#I don't think its fine that if I fell at exactly the right angle this thing could just pop right of of my body

[thateclecticbitch]

"the placement is fine, your protected. You know, maybe this method just isn't for you." FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Barking and biting at my gynecologist <negative>

[dufferpuffer]

honestly I don't even blame the intense Marauders fans for making the boys barely seem like friends.

How many lines are there (that wasn't said to each other) where teenage Sirius and James were not being absolute pricks...? They're such insensitive assholes. In their heads it really was James & Sirius and then everyone else in the world. Remus and Peter are included but constantly disrespected.

And like of course they were friends, and had each others backs - but there's a power dynamic in that friend group, and its James and Sirius are kings and Remus and Peter are useful for entertainment. Toxic lil teenagers. Dumb asshole kids.

But that's exactly the point, right? Every time we see a memory of the past, its to show the opposite of what Harry thinks: - James and Sirius were actually quite nasty - Remus wasn't a role model, - Peter was a bit of a victim, - Severus is honest - and straight up correct most of the time

I think the unfortunate thing in fanworks on this era is how they treat this dynamic as golden. As fine. They were the bestest and tightest of friends, the toxic shit was all stable and normal and good... and the only way to have that make sense is to twist who the characters are.

- James has to be a labrador who barely knows what he is saying. - Sirius has to be a drama queen to say insensitive things. - Remus has to be a grumpy badass to be so quietly defensive. - Peter... well they just ignore Peter. When he is there they have the others love-bomb him to make up for the abuse. - Severus has to be the worst otherwise the marauders look bad. But its more interesting that it wasn't like that! That the group fell apart! Remus separated after school, there was a rift between him and Sirius - Peter was such a fourth wheel he wasn't loyal at all - Sirius was almost TOO loyal and reliant on James, too dedicated - and while James loved Lily he was still irresponsible and selfish.

IDK its 4am and I'm rambling. I guess seeing so much stuff of pallid, pale, sickly Remus as a butch tanned teen scowling at people... it gets to you at 4am. I think, if you wanted a more assertive Remus to have hot sex with Sirius (if teenage sex can ever be hot...?) leaning into their characters would be cooler. That's my 2 cents.

“I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

There's fire in that. There's dissatisfaction and annoyance and bite - alongside Remus' general meekness. There's disregard from Sirius. Idk. Feels like that's a cool angle to work with.

[k0kichiimagines]

hi do you write mysme? if so can you write seven x (fem but it doesnt matter that much) reader who self harms? like since hes watching them from the security camera he realizes that theyre literally cutting themself up and then coming to the chatroom like “heyyyy isnt it such an amazing day??” while still looking so down or something .

sorry if you dont write seven or self harm btww thanks already

i do all three of those yes! sorry this took a few days, i usually try do requests like these instantly due to their topic,

nonnie i hope youre doing okay <3 if you, or anyone else here struggles with self harm, recovery is hard but it's possible! been there, done that, almost out the other side - so i can assure you, its rough, its not fun, but it is possible, and it is worth it, so set small goals, and try <3

- mod kokichi

saeyoung [707] x reader

-> self harming reader [c-tting to be exact]

cws : self harm, knives,

for plot pretend there's a camera in the kitchen,, he said theres one outside? and none in, and he had nothing of saeran breaking in, but also he talks about being able to see you - so either you step out often to wave hi, or maybe there is a little one inside? dunno, again just pretend theres one

you hadn't been thinking really. you usually kept this to the bathroom, hidden and away.

today the knives looked especially... appealing. the soft water drops left from the recent wash that fell down the sleek metal, the sunlight that flicked through the window and hit them at a pretty angle. it looked like a painting, it felt like they were whispering to you, teasing you, taunting you. the blade looked too sharp, just a gentle slice would draw blood.

you lay it against your wrist, you pressed it lightly and took a sharp breath, then hissed in pain once you quickly slid it across. bad idea, the blood was instant, pooling out the new wound. one or two more, and then you shoved it under the tap, trying to recall where the bandages were.

your phone dinged your usual notification sound. you glanced over at it, placed on the countertop. the messenger gave you unclear messages, you guessed it was part of its secrecy, so all you saw was 'One direct message'. but it reminded you of something, it reminded you of why exactly you had recently taken to hiding in the bathroom.

because you weren't at home.

and there were cameras here.

you grabbed your phone, rushed into the small room, and locked the door as though someone might burst through. as though, he might burst through. your fingers shook as you ignored the second message, rushing to cover your cuts before any blood fell to the floor, before the stains stayed as evidence, just in case this time you couldn't remove it. you felt sick, your chest ached, your whole body was shaking now.

you didn't want to check the text. you didn't. you hoped it was a coincidence, that even if it was him, he hadn't seen you.

even though he checked every 0.2 seconds.

the longer you ignored it the more obvious it was. maybe you could play it off as a mistake, you were sure the cameras weren't super clear, right?

your hands shook, you stepped out, pacing around the small apartment as you opened the text, just avoiding the camera.

it was him. your throat felt dry. what would he think of you?

"did you accidentally cut yourself while cooking? ahh, that's the worst! there should be plasters in the cabinet, unless they've been moved."

"???" - that must have been in response to you running.

there was then a gap. a moment of time with nothing. then your name. you could feel the serious tone.

"could you call me, please?" he'd worked it out. or maybe he'd checked the footage. you replied, taking forever because trembling fingers led to typos, and typos seemed suspcious.

"don't worry, seven ! i'm fine haha, i won't distract you from work, you said you had a lot, let's call later! ^^"

"i'm not busy. not when it comes to you." the quick reply made you jump, he was clearly waiting. you began to type out a reply, about how it was all just a silly mistake, but your phone screen was replaced by the calling icon instead. you took a deep breath, you didn't trust yourself for long replies, so you answered with a simple "hi".

"i can't come right now, so i can't keep a full eye on you, nor can i force you to stop. but i know what you were doing, and i'm telling you right now, its not worth it. any sort of satisfaction you think it gives you - it's not worth it."

"seven. i..." there goes your voice cracking. "i wasnt.. doing that."

he only sighed. "i'll see you soon. at the party, or maybe sooner if i get a break. it'll be a few days at most, that's a small goal, right? try stay clean for that long, just those few days, see if you can. and if you feel you might not, then call me, and we can talk about something else. i'm good at multitasking, i can talk to you and work, alright? and even if you don't make it, i just want you to try. that's all."

"i... yeah. okay. i'll try." his voice was soothing, he wasn't disgusted, or angry. just caring. worried?

"promise me?"

"i promise."

"good." he sighed again. "did you deal with it? clean it up?"

"um, yeah." you were crying now, something about having someone both know and be trying to help felt... nice. you didn't feel strong enough to recover, and you suspected it would be hard. in fact, maybe you both knew you would do it again. maybe even in an hour. but somehow... with him there, you felt a soft hope that maybe... just maybe... you might be alright.

"don't cry..! don't cry, you'll be okay. i won't tell the others if you don't want me to, but i could tell yoosung you're not feeling well, and to go visit you? ah... but the location is a secret... maybe you could go visit him? the others are busy, he's likely just gaming"

"thank you, seven, but i think i'm okay."

"are you sure?"

"yeah."

"i can stay on the line if you want? we don't have to speak the whole time, but it would like being in the same room."

"that'd be nice. thank you." you wiped your eyes, smiling at the idea.

"anytime."

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

Wanted to draw, but then the laptop decided it was time to spend all day doing updates, so I decided to share some scrapped and WIP doodles instead for some of my sketches for the Amnesia AU

I'm gonna put this under a Read More because it's quite a few, and a couple of them has some unsettling imagery that depict Jacky after the initial accident, so I wanna give a slight forewarning although nothing is colored and most everything is in blue linework anyway.

Starting off a little fluffy here, but I gave up on trying to figure out how to make Claire's beak was going to work here, but anyway, that little playful dance scene.

Jacky from the Faux-80s era thing (the non descript pre-snappage setting that I decided technically takes place in the 80s but the DWD comics created a snarl by boosting technology to mimic the 2010s despite the original cartoon being in the 90s and no one aged a single gosh dang day), and its that one hospital visit where he's molting from a stress-rash brought on by the anxiety during that trial over the recall on his products. Mostly a quick loose doodle to get a visual on how absolutely uncomfortable he's feeling.

Nothing in particular, he's just freaking hyped over something.

Face. Nothing else, I don't even think I wanted to draw anything other than face. A little more on-model than usual, tho.

Very sassy "Y'all seein' this junk??" More proportionately closer to my general style, but I didn't get around to lining and coloring this one yet.

Blanket cocoon, Jacky trying to get over that cold he got while insisting he's fine, but Claire thinks otherwise

Figment!Jacky as seen during the fever chapter when Jacky starts imagining him as he saw himself on the tape of the "Fell Out The Window And Cracked His Skull Like An Egg" incident that landed him here to begin with. Originally described a little more scuffed in the story proper, I wanted to figure out a design to work with for the illustration purposes (I wanted to keep the image put in the AO3 release to not go as hard as the actual words, and also drawing injury to a blorbo is way freaking harder to endure than typing a few words down because you gotta stare at that the whole time making it ahhhhhhhh) that adhered to the description, minus the... um... stains, so one working idea was to draw the headfeathers more ruffled to give the indication that the injury still existed. Also, there's like NO reference images of QuackerJack with his cap askew so I had to figure out how the angling and eyeholes are going to work, so you can imagine this is a challenge for me.

POV: You're Darkwing and this is the moment where the AU starts, after QuackerJack was launched out of a third story window by two large sentient banana toys. He's got the concussion of a lifetime from hitting concrete, and doesn't remember the last four months (AKA: My initial estimate for the timeline of the first half of the comics). He doesn't realize that his life is in your hands right now. Good luck, Darkwing.

This was intended to be the illustration of the incident, but I still can't figure out how to tone it down while still keeping the urgency of the scene intact. Again, blorbos in ouch ain't exactly fun to draw but I suppose the solace in this is knowing that he gets taken care of and put on the mend right away, so it's not like this is totally bleak, but still... this has been sitting on the backburner for months...

Let's do a palate cleanser for a sec after that jarring image. This ain't got anything to do with the AU, but it's still a neat unfinished sketch.

Not exactly part of the AU, but remember that Wereduck!Jacky thing I did around October last year? Here's a playful sketch of him wagging his tailfeathers with his tongue out because he am puppy.

And that's a handful. I tend to scrap things if I either just don't like how the layout is or if I'm unsure if it's appropriate yet to do so, either because spoilers or because I don't think enough context could make it make sense yet.

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 3

Hey there! Thank you for taking the time to read this

There are so many left out details here that I did on purpose for future explanation within the fic for the element of mystery I'm trying to brew . Hope you don't mind! Enjoy reading❤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

1.7k words.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury and fighting.

*

Without thinking, I drove my fist towards the voice, regretting it the instant I recognized who it was.

Tai'chi.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found my fist encased in his hand. He seems unfazed by my reaction, seemingly expecting it.

“Oh shi— I’m so sorry!”

How the hell did he sneak up on me without making a sound??

“Feisty- I mean, I should be the one sorry, for startling you...And for following you. I just wanted to, make sure you were alright.”

I blinked. He was concerned?

He spoke up when I didn’t respond.

“So, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. Just, disappointed.” I breathed in and sighed as he gently let go of my fist.

Oh, and his scent helps right now. He smells so...wonderful I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve been surrounded by disgusting odors my entire life. I swear I’ve inhaled appealing scents like lilac, sandalwood, cinnamon, even rain has its particular smell! But Tai'chi, he—he’s something else entirely.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else like, I don’t know, maybe getting lunch with some of your friends or in a classroom?” I asked. I wonder why he would even bother to be in my presence. Anyone should be creeped out by the way I spoke up earlier. I mean, who does that? Plus, I did throw a stranger down to the floor. But part of me knows he deserved that.

Definitely.

“Want to talk about it?” He ignored my question. Tai'chi was now sitting cross-legged beside me, the oak’s root in between us. His deep azure eyes studying, watching me carefully.

“What?”

“What you did back there, wasn’t something a plain, timid college girl would do.”

Wait. He knew I was pretending to be one?

“Yes, I knew.”

“You can read minds?!” I stammered out. He can read my mind this whole time?! Shit.

He held up for a second before a boisterous laugh broke out of him and echoed through the circling trees, scaring away some birds perched above. I don’t know if I should be offended or flustered by his guffaw. It was so, so deep and rich and —

What the hell Pearl? What if he's reading your mind??

Tai'chi faced me again, sighing once he calmed down.

“To answer your question, no, I can’t read minds. But like I stated before, your face gives it away. Or your brows since you’re wearing a mask, but I can imagine your expression.”

I let out an incomprehensible noise.

“How did you find out I was pretending to be…you know,” waving my hands around.

“The moment we made eye contact this morning when you entered. And the way you shifted your body at the last second to prevent yourself from plunging into the trash bin, I knew you were something more. Your eyes and your actions show your experience in combat. A skilled warrior would notice these little things right away.”

My jaw fell open, and I’m sure he knows. He left me speechless.

Should I tell him I am a trained martial artist and a weapon wielder?

But we just met like 5 hours ago!

He seems trustworthy. And he’s an orc, didn’t they have a code of honor or something?

My thoughts ran wild I swear Tai'chi could hear my mind, screaming.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t wish to. And I must’ve sounded, creepy when I admitted I’ve been observing you. But before anything else, will you allow me to introduce myself, for real this time?”

“You mean your name isn’t Tai'chi?”

Letting out a chuckle, he replied, “I swear to you, my name is Tai'chi. What I mean is, I want you to know my full name. Do you understand what this implies, Pearl?”

I racked my brain for a moment, trying to recall what my parents said about orc traditions when my uncle, papa’s brother, married the orcess he fell in love with. Something about an orc’s real name being reserved only to those they’re close to?

“I guess so? But what exactly?”

“I want to become your friend.”

I couldn’t help the slight warmth creeping into my cheeks behind my mask. He can’t see it, can he? A friend, he says. A friend!

“Oh,” was all that came out. A pause and;

“Uh, I mean, I’d love to be your friend! I never had an actual friend before. I mean, have cousins, but we aren’t acquainted enough to consider myself their friend— I mean— uh, what should I do?” I blurted out a little rapidly.

He smiled. He actually smiled! Oh, damn, it was adorable!

Tai'chi was about to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut and grimaced. I was confused by his sudden change of mood, along with his scent.

Then it struck me.

The two of us shot up when multiple smells filled the air, making my stomach clench.

We were followed, not just one but six individuals. One of them was the pretentious human from earlier.

My day can’t get any better. And is that a baseball bat? Great. Fucking great.

I swear. I’m cursed to find trouble anywhere I go.

“Hello, freaks.” The guy in the middle began. “Whatcha doin’ out here in the forest?”

The others began spreading out and surrounded us.

“Planning something nasty I bet.” A human to my right spat.

“You will pay for what you did to me, you bitch. Just so you know, my father is the dean of this university. No one will ever hear a word of what I did here and what we will do to you.

'Dean’s son, David Silverstone, assaulted by an insane student in the woods within campus grounds. His friends graciously helping him fight off the lunatic until she passed out and was carried to an isolation chamber for monitoring, later finding out about her severe psychological disorder.’ Now wouldn’t that be a hit in the papers!” The bastard and his companions cackled and snickered, some of them stealing glances between my legs and I felt my skin crawl.

Tai'chi growled lowly, silencing them for a brief moment. He was getting mad but held his ground.

“And you,” the human pointed, “you beast. It won’t be hard antagonizing you, people will no doubt believe you were the one who violated the schoolgirl and left her in the woods to die.”

This fucking—

I felt a hand on my shoulder just as I was about to start, gently gripping, in hopes of trying to calm me down. He knows they were baiting us on making the first move. He shook his head, and an idea popped up.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to make my voice as girly as possible, sounding so hilarious, like those overdressed, flashy high school girls with flowery perfume so strong I wrenched every time I get a whiff of it.

Provoking them would do.

“Oh, I’m so scared! Should I get on my knees and beg for mercy? Oh please, great and noble one, have mercy on my poor soul.” My voice laced with mockery and sadness, with my legs fake trembling and my arms flailing.

And did Tai'chi just snort?

“If you beg nicely, I will perhaps give you a chance to— ”

My sudden wheezing interrupted him and I laughed. Hard. I can’t believe he bought my terrible acting! I expected him to straight-up be offended rather than actually bite the false bait. He is dumber than I thought.

I was holding my middle by the time I was done. Tai'chi’s shoulders were moving slightly, probably chuckling and trying to hold back his amusement.

“Did you honestly take it seriously??? I can't— oh my God!” I choked out once more before I went on.

“There’s no chance in hell I’m gonna bow to you, not even one degree of an angle, you foolish, idiotic, spoiled, bastardized son of a bitch.”

His face was turning red out of rage and oh! Wasn’t that a sight to behold?

“You brat!” Turning his head to the others, he yelled, “What are guys standing there for?! Get them!”

Good.

Perhaps they didn’t catch my hands slipping on my beloved crimson knuckle dusters out of the bag when I was laughing then, tugging down my hoodie’s sleeve to hide it.

“Don’t move.” I told the orc, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“But—”

“Just don’t.” I said with my voice firm. I will take them on my own. I can’t have him getting in trouble and people blaming him for being an orc. Imagine that. The ones who attacked him will be viewed as victims because they were up against him, an orc. Numerous humans will jump at the chance to throw dirt at their race, a single act of self-defense treated as a one-sided assault to humans, the thought of it being enough to somehow remove all of them from the city, but everyone knows it's not that simple. Dimwits.

I strode forward without earning his response, waiting for the first person to come at me.

I took my stance, although it was more of preparing half of my body since I was still hiding both of my hands.

They all seemed confused and hesitant, which was what I was going for. To me, and those with experience in hand-to-hand combat, this is one of the most basic stances, but fundamental, nonetheless. A simple form that can determine the outcome of a fight. With my right foot forward, left foot back, both firmly planted to the ground, and my dominant hand wearing my dusters. In their eyes, it was…wrong, foreign. Some may even say it’s an open vulnerability, showing how inexperienced the opponent is, but oh, it is the exact opposite.

I didn’t see Tai'chi’s expression, though. I was on alert and getting into my zone to peer at him, one motion that can put me in a compromising position. Did he notice my brass knuckles? Likely.

“Scared to hurt a little girl like me?” I enticed.

Finally, the one beside their alleged leader charged at me.

A typical amateur approach.

The guy, about two inches taller than me, threw a right punch, which was a huge mistake.

Predictable.

I smirked under my mask and dodged it not a second before it connected. Making him falter as I grabbed his arm and brought it down to my knee, dislodging his joints.

A high-pitched scream of pain broke out of him as he dropped down on the forest ground, gripping his bent-off arm, cursing, but refused to rise and fight me again.

I gave him one last glance before I looked back at the others.

“Who’s next?”

****************************************

Those human shits just can't leave them alone! Interrupting their supposed-to-be official introduction! There's more to the orc that meets the eye *wink* Who is he exactly? Why was he so... observant?

Part 4 is actually on its third revising— and I'm still trying to come up on HOW to phrase my next words to lead to part 5. I let me brain take a break from spewing senseless words for now so I'll probably post the next part of this later or tomorrow

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And I'd appreciate it if you have some advice for me, or just point out some mistakes I made! Thank you

Ps. This is really not perfect formal writing if you're wondering. I just type away whatever comes into my mind, and then proofread it to the best I can. And I hope you don't mind me using a lot of spaces. It... sort of makes my mind clear and continue moving forward, and it helps me when I'm reading it again, mentally taking note that with every line between spaces there's a slight pause and again, read it clearly like you were the one thinking it. I don't know how to explain how my own brain works but I guess that's that?

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[penninstitute]

Statement of Miette Capello, regarding… the ocean. Original statement given April 21st, 2020. Statement taken live from subject.

Transcript under cut.

[Click.]

ARCHIVIST

Alright. Let's try this again.

MIETTE

Uh, why exactly are we using your personal laptop for this?

ARCHIVIST

Sometimes the Institute's computers don't… record properly. Things get corrupted easily. This is just more reliable.

MIETTE

Huh. Alright. Should I start over, or…?

ARCHIVIST

Yeah, that'd probably be best. Here, let me--

Statement of Miette Capello, regarding…

MIETTE

Um. The ocean.

ARCHIVIST

Statement given April 21st, 2020. Statement taken live from subject. 

Statement begins.

MIETTE

Yeah. Okay. So, I'm from Point Judith, Narragansett, and we're like, right on the shore. It's not hard to get to the ocean from where I live, and I go all the time. It's nice to walk along the beach in the wintertime, and I--again, I do it all the time.

I guess I just really like the sound of the waves, and the smell of the ocean is really nice, too. Um. I just really like the ocean, I guess. It's usually pretty peaceful.

It was, uh, January when it happened, though. I haven't been back since.

I'd been walking on… January 5th, I think, after some argument with my dad, and I was trying to let off some steam. Walk it off, get all the anger out where he wouldn't yell at me for it.

I spent at least an hour out there on the beach, and eventually I figured, well, this wasn't really doing anything, and it was almost dinner time anyways, so I decided to head home, and then…

There… the beach was. Gone? Not gone, I guess, just, um, it was different.

I was just standing on this one little sandbar in the center of a bunch of ice. I don't know how it happened, it--one second I was listening to the waves, and the next I was freezing and standing in the middle of what looked like the… I dunno, Arctic Ocean? I don't think any ocean is actually… frozen like that.

It was more confusing than scary in those first few moments, but uh, a few seconds later I realized I couldn't see any actual land. It was just… ice, for as far as I could see.

I decided to be brave! I didn't want to just… sit and freeze. I had a good jacket for winter in Rhode Island, but not winter in… wherever I was.

The ice seemed thick enough to walk on. I wouldn't have gone out onto it if it wasn't. But, um, it was! At least, for the most part.

It was slow-going at first, because I didn't want to slip and fall, because I didn't… I didn't really trust the ice? It was sturdy enough to walk on, but I had a feeling that if I slipped and fell, I'd go right through it. So I was just very, very careful.

I don't know how long I was walking for. I know I was out there for a few days, but I didn't get tired, or hungry, or thirsty. I just kept walking.

Um, after a while I started to hear this… creaking noise. And scratching. It wasn't, like, the ice starting to break, but it was coming from underneath it. And, and then I noticed the shadow. Under the ice.

It was long, and thin, like a snake, almost, except I could see limbs sticking out. It was blurry and dark underneath the ice, so I couldn't figure out what it was, exactly, but--but there was something down there. And one of the limbs moved and I heard the scratching noise again, and I realized it--the thing was scratching at the ice, and I think it was trying to get through.

I backed away from it, slowly at first, but then I realized it was following me, and--and I don't know why I did it, but I stomped as hard as I could on the ice, and it cracked.

The… thing pretty much pounced on that crack. The scratching got louder, and then there was more cracking, and suddenly the ice was opening up and, um…

I screamed. I'll admit it.

These long, black, spindly fingers began to claw their way through the crack, and, um, my first reaction was to stomp on them. I mean, what else would I do? Run? I'd just fall on my ass and it would get me quickly. I, I figured I'd go out with a fight, at least.

So I stomped on the hand hard when it emerged, and the thing made this awful howling noise.

It was kind of terrifying to hear after so much silence. And also because of what the sound belonged to, obviously. The ice began to crack faster, and it looked like it was trying to just… crash right through it. The--the ice around me was coming apart, and there was this big heavy chunk of it floating in the water that looked a manageable size, so I grabbed it.

The thing came out headfirst, and it was--it looked… human-ish. It was all black, and I mean pitch black, like the color of the water, and it had these horrible white eyes. It was covered in, in fins? I think? It all kind of blended together in the moment.

And it, when it opened its mouth to screech again, there were rows and rows of teeth. All long and pointed and pristine.

I threw that chunk of ice as hard as I could and, um, hit it right in the face. It was enough to make it fall over backwards, it looked… fragile, actually. The limbs were too thin, you could see what looked like ribs, maybe, through the skin of its torso. It screamed again. I grabbed another chunk of ice and threw it at it again when the monster tried to get up.

The neck snapped on impact. It still got up, head hanging at an awkward, horrible angle, and it screamed another time, it--it was a worse sound, now that I had, um, broken its neck.

I threw another chunk of ice, then ran. I didn't make sure I hit it this time, I just threw it in the hopes it would be distracting enough and took off. It was--running on ice isn't easy. I almost slipped right away, but uh, I didn't! I could hear it howling behind me, but it wasn't as close as before, and when I glanced back I saw it begin to retreat back into the water.

I had to sit down after that. I didn't see the shadow come towards me under the ice, so I--I figured I would be safe for a little while, at least.

I laid down and stared up at the sky--it was just gray, no clouds in sight--and closed my eyes for a minute.

And then I heard waves, and my back wasn't against freezing ice, and I opened my eyes and was back on the beach back home.

I'd been gone for three days. Still wasn't dehydrated, or tired, or hungry. I was fine, save for some scraped knees and hands after handling the ice. No frostbite, somehow, but my hands were freezing, along with my ears and nose. Health-wise, I was fine.

My dad was… mad, that I'd been gone for so long, thought I'd run away, or something. My mom was more relieved to see me, I think. Um. I think that's it.

ARCHIVIST

… Statement ends. And you said the creature got back up even after you'd… broken its neck?

MIETTE

Uh, yeah. That's probably not the weirdest thing about the experience, though.

ARCHIVIST

I suppose not.

Well, we'll look into it for you, and if we find anything concrete, we'll be sure to let you know.

MIETTE

Thanks. For listening, too, I guess.

ARCHIVIST

Oh! Of course. It's uh, what we're here for.

End recording.

[Click.]

---

The Archivist: @cacowhistle

Miette Capello: @icedhotcocoa

[hazelandglasz]

Oh my, oh my, "I’m calling to cancel our date because I’m actually in the ER right now, sorry. …I mean, sure, I guess you can come down here, but… okay…" with Klaiiiine, pretty pretty please ? (I think this is the first time I've ever prompted you and I don't know why)

On  AO3

Blaine could cry.

Out of pain, sure, but also out of sheer frustration.

After months of sighing after Kurt Hummel, Blaine finally pulled his head out of his ass and asked him out--and was rewarded with a loud and clear “yes”--only to have to cancel because of his stupidity.

As in, got so excited about getting ready for his date that he tripped on his scarf and fell.

And now, Blaine’s wrist is hurting very badly, and oh God it’s an odd angle too.

Shit, shit, shit.

At least it’s his right one--silver lining of being a lefty.

While he waits and tries not to cry--not that there's anything wrong with a man crying, it’s just that Blaine didn’t pack any tissue and crying always makes him sneezy--Blaine sends a message to Kurt.

B: I’m so sorry I have to cancel our date but I’m in the E.R. Long story.

B: Raincheck?

K: Oh no! Are you okay?

K: Stupid question, nvm

K: Which hospital?

That gives Blaine pause. Why would Kurt want to know the name of the hospital?

B: Brooklyn Hospital Center

B: Why?

K: On my way.

B: What? No, no, Kurt, it’s fine! Don’t come down here I’m a mess

K: Blaine.

K: I’m not going to leave you alone while you’re in pain

K: I’ll keep you company, bring you smthing to eat, and we’ll see ok?

Blaine considers his options.

He can allow Kurt to come down to the hospital, see him be a pathetic, hurt mess, but they will be together and who knows, maybe he’ll get a sympathy first kiss.

(No, he does not have a nurse kink--but now that the image of Kurt in a doctor’s outfit presents itself, oy.)

Or.

He insists Kurt does not come, Kurt’s feelings are hurt while Blaine’s body is hurt, they never speak to each other and Blaine has to move back to Ohio.

Door number one, then please.

B: I suppose it won’t hurt, but no comment on how I look or no deal.

K: Scout’s honor.

Blaine smiles at that, barely suppressing a laugh at the next message.

K: I never was a scout, to be transparent and honest, but being a cheerleader counts, right?

Well now that opens a whole can of conversation, doesn’t it?

B: Cheerleader uh? I guess I can admit that if you have photographic evidence that it happened

K: Deal. See you in a few!

Blaine smiles at his phone before slowly but surely descending into a panic.

Kurt is coming.

Kurt, whom he has crushed on for the better portion of this semester; Kurt, who is always effortlessly stylish and remarkable; Kurt, who is probably the most interesting man in the school, if not the entire city.

This Kurt.

Is coming to, what, hang out with him in the E.R. while Blaine looks like a trainwreck smashed by a bulldozer? 

Before slipping on his scarf, Blaine was getting ready for his date with Kurt.

The keyword here is clearly the “getting” part, because he is nowhere near ready.

Not even taking into consideration the broken wrist and the puffy eyes from crying, which would be more than enough, Blaine knows that he is objectively a mess.

No product in his hair, an old t-shirt--the only thing he has going for him is his pants, because they are his Pants, capital P required.

But he’s sitting, so even that is a moot point.

With his free hand, Blaine tries to tame his hair but with no mirror and no product, he probably messes it up even further.

“Mr Anderson?”

A nurse appears in front of him. Nurse Pavarotti, it reads on her tag.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to take you down for a X-Ray in about twenty minutes, if that’s alright with you. Sorry about the wait.”

Blaine nods. “I just--there is a, um, a friend coming to keep me company. Is it okay if we …”

The nurse gives him a long, searching look before giving him a small nod.

Twenty-one minutes later, Kurt makes an appearance. He is short of breath, slightly dishevelled, and his cheeks are a dark shade of pink.

Not a bad look on him, all things considered, but not one Blaine has ever seen on him.

“Blaine!” Kurt exclaims, making his way to the chair next to him.

“There you are,” Blaine says, unable to keep himself from smiling.

Kurt smiles back, unbuttoning his coat before taking a look at Blaine’s hand, wrapped from the tip of his fingers to his elbow in a dish towel with melted ice cubes. “Does it hurt?”

“Oh, yes. A lot.” Blaine chuckles darkly. “I’m considering gnawing it off to stop the pain.”

Kurt coos before looking from Blaine’s hand to his hair. Something sparks up in his eyes.

“That’s a new look?”

Blaine can feel his face heating up. “N-no, oh gosh no, I was just, just, um, getting ready for our date when my scarf attacked me from the floor.”

“Traitor.”

“Exactly.”

They look into each other’s eyes and Blaine really has no self-control over his zygomatics when it comes to Kurt, does he?

“Mr Anderson? Are you ready?”

Blaine shakes himself from his Kurt-induced trance and nods to the nurse.

“Give me your coat, I’ll wait here,” Kurt offers, already settling in his chair.

“I’ll be right back,” Blaine replies, groaning when the towel slightly moves over his wrist.

“Don’t worry,” Kurt says, “I’m not going anywhere. You won’t get rid of me so easily.”

A weight is lifted from Blaine’s chest, a weight he didn’t even know had found its spot there.

“It won’t take much time,” Nurse Pavarotti says as she guides Blaine toward the examination room. “And you two lovebirds will be back together in no time.”

Blaine’s blush is back at full volume. “We’re not, I--”

“Tutt-tutt-tutt,” the nurse stops him. “I can tell. Now we will X-ray you and in the best case scenario, put you in a cast before sending you both on your merry little way.”

Blaine sighs. “Okay.”

“Oh, don’t be so gloomy, dear. I’m sure we can find a color that will enhance those eyes.”

“Okay.” This time around, Blaine puts a little more energy and enthusiasm in his voice. After all, if there is one thing he knows how, it’s to accessorize.

---

Kurt is keeping busy with Candy Crush when Blaine returns, arm in a cast.

He doesn’t know why he went to the hospital--it can be because he waited for so long to either get the courage to ask Blaine out or for Blaine to cut through his obliviousness.

It can be because he cares about Blaine already.

It can be because Blaine made the first move and it was his turn.

--but right this moment, he doesn’t regret it.

Because Blaine has a cast on and he looks so shy and vulnerable. All Kurt wants to do is wrap him in a blanket and take care of him.

… Come to think of it, Blaine may need some help in the days to come. Even if he’s left-handed--and Kurt knows that tidbit of information, thank you very much--, it cannot be easy to navigate his daily tasks one-handed, can it?

“We had to give him a strong painkiller,” the nurse explains as she guides Blaine back to his seat. “Will you be able to take him home?”

“Oh! I’m not--we’re not--that is, not yet. I mean …”

The nurse frowns at him. “You are Kurt, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“I thought so. Mr Anderson here mentioned you a couple of times while we were putting on the cast.”

“He--he did?”

“Only good things. So good, in fact, that I assumed you two were already an item.” The nurse cocks her head to the side. “I’m telling you this because we need to make sure Mr Anderson won’t stay alone for the next 24 hours. And if you’re not in a capacity to be here for him, we need to contact his emergency contact, which appears to be a Mr Anderson …?”

“That must be his brother. But he recently moved to Los Angeles so that’s a moot point.” Kurt takes a deep breath--it’s a no-brainer. “Don’t worry, Miss, I will stay with Blaine.”

I would stay with Blaine forever, but that’s perhaps a tad too soon to say it out loud.

“Fantastic! Well, all you need to know is that the cast needs to stay dry, and here is a prescription for painkillers. Otherwise, just check with him how his fingers feel. If he starts losing sensation in them--”

“Bring him back?”

“Bring him back.”

“Alright.” Kurt gives the nurse an approximation of a military salute before turning back to Blaine.

Who is wearing his jacket like a cape and smiling adoringly at him.

“Blaine? You okay buddy?”

“‘m fine,” Blaine replies, getting on wobbly legs. “Not as fine as you, though.”

Kurt flushes deeply but cannot help the pang of satisfaction at hearing this. Really, after months of being either oblivious or afraid of his feelings, Blaine is now going to let them all out, just because of a painkiller?

As little as he put into his thought process in coming to the E.R., Kurt can only pat himself on the back for the best decision made tonight.

“You flatterer,” he simply says, steadying Blaine with one hand around his waist. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“On the first date?” Blaine snorts before giggling. “Oh, Mr Hummel!”

Behind them, Kurt could swear he hears the nurse huffing a laugh. “No, not like that, Blaine. I’m just taking you home so you can rest and get better.”

Blaine pauses and Kurt has to stop. His eyes are a bit unfocused, sure, but there is a seriousness in them all the same. “You’re going to take care of me.” It’s not even phrased as a question.

Kurt swallows hard on the unexpected lump in his throat. “I will,” he replies, and he finds that he doesn’t mean just for the period of healing ahead.

He wants to date Blaine, sure, he wants to kiss him and “dot dot dot”, sure, but he wants …

Kurt wants the nitty gritty too.

He wants to figure out if Blaine is tidy or messy, he wants to find him drinking milk out of the bottle, he wants to see him under all the colors of the emotional rainbow.

He wants the passionate nights of lust and the quiet nights of comfort.

He wants everything Blaine has to offer and he wants to give Blaine everything in return.

That’s how far gone he is.

But for now, a helping hand to get clean and into another t-shirt and maybe some help heating up some soup will have to do.

“I know you will,” Blaine says, leaning his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “‘m sorry for our date.”

“It’s only a delay, don’t worry,” Kurt says with a smile as they start walking.

“I had this whole plan, you know.”

“Oh? Care to tell me about it.”

Blaine opens his mouth before glaring at Kurt.

(Well, “glaring”. An attempt is made, and Kurt really shouldn’t be laughing.)

“No, no, no. I’ll keep my surprise for you, Kurt. I’m going to woo the shizzle out of you.”

“The shizzle? Consider me swept off my feet already.”

“Good. But you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Blaine says with a smile and a wink, the insufferable …

The adorable, insufferable idiot.

God, Kurt loves him so much already.

“Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“I really am sorry it took me so long to ask you out.”

Kurt smiles crookedly at Blaine. “It’s fine. I could have asked you out too, but I was--”

“--scared?”

“Terrified.”

Blaine huffs. “We truly make a pair.”

“As long as we get it right in the end.”

A short nod and a happy sigh. “As long as we get it right, yeah.”

[whatevertbbhhb]

Amnesia (Loki x Reader songfic)

Word Count: 2070

This was inspired by the 5sos song “Amnesia”

 Its really badly written angst, I guess

I drove by all the places we used to hand out getting wasted

Y/N slid into the stool next to me.

“Cmon Loki!” She urged “Just one drink!”

“I don't wish to become like my obnoxious, frankly quite rowdy brother.” I mumbled in response, sipping at my water.

She scoffed. “Loki I’m sure that you would be a much more dignified drinker than your brother.”

My expression remained stoic, however, and she took note.  

“Allright then. Suit yourself.”

“Come lady Y/N let us dance.” Thor boomed, appearing by my side and making me cringe. She took his outstretched hand and began to dance with Thor.

I tried to calm myself down. Assure myself that there was nothing between Y/N and Thor, but i couldn't shake my feeling of discomfort. I snatched up a shot from the tray beside me and downed it in one go.

“Y/N” I tapped her shoulder and she turned to face me. Her cheeks were pink and her hair was slightly damp as she squealed and grabbed my arm, pulling me deeper into the crowd.

“Loki stop being so stiff!” she laughed, swinging her hips. As the alcohol began to take its effect, I slowly felt myself begin to let go as well as I placed my hands on her hips and began to dance.

I thought about our last kiss how it felt the way you tasted

“That up there,” I said, guiding Y/N’s arm to the right angle, is Sirius, and that's Auriga. Right next to that bright star, way to left, is Sagittarius.”

“Wow, you sure do know a lot about stars” she said in awe. Her head was resting on my chest and we were surrounded by a cocoon of blankets up on the roof of Starks tower.

“I used to enjoy spotting constellations with my mother back on Asgard. She taught me all that I know.”

“ You know, I never thought that I could experience love, not after my mother died. Who could love a creature-”

“Loki…” she cut me off  “Don’t speak like that your brother-”

I cut her off “Until I met you. Love, you complete me and I don’t deserve you.”

“Loki, you deserve so much more than me. Don’t ever think for a second that you don’t deserve love; every single person on this planet has a chance for love and redemption, and you seized that chance.”

I tilted her head up so that I could see her eyes. She fluttered them closed and leaned in to place her plump lips on mine. Her hair felt soft as I ran it through my fingers, and her lips tasted like the hot chocolate that she had been drinking.

And even though your friends tell me your doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though hes right beside you

“Y/N and Eric make a great team.” Said Tony, strutting into the kitchen with an empty glass in his hand. “I just got off a meeting with Fury and Y/N. It was a good idea teaming them up, the mission is going exactly as planned.”

“What exactly does the mission entail” Clint asked, leaning over the back of the couch to look at Tony. He had just come back from a vacation with his family so he still had to be filled in on certain things.

“Y/N and Eric Eisenhart went to New Mexico. Fury wants to start a S.H.I.E.L.D chapter there, that way we have response teams available faster. Eric is one of the higher ranking S.H.I.E.L.D agents.”

Clint nodded in understanding. “And Y/N was willing to leave everyone here?” Clint asked, surprised. He knew you as a deeply affectionate and caring person who loved her friends, and was shocked that you would pack up and leave everyone so quickly.

Tony looked up from washing the glass to see Loki slip away from the kitchen.

“She asked for the mission” he said in a hushed voice.

“And her and Loki?” Clint questioned, equally quietly, gesturing to the door Loki had just left from.

“She broke up with him. One day, they were happily, quite grossly might I add, in love, and the next she was running out of his room demanding I send her on the farthest possible mission.”

“What did the douche do to her?” Clint growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Slow down there Buckaroo. As far as we know, nothing. I even watched F.R.I.D.A.Y’s recordings and it was her choice. I’m not a big fan of Reindeer Games, but Hell, poor dude doesnt deserve this.

when he says those words that hurt you 

do you read the ones I wrote you?

I sat down on the hotel bed after a long day of looking for real estate for the new S.H.I.E.L.D chapter. As my head hit the pillow, I heard three consecutive bangs on the door.

“Come in” I wearily called, still lying down on the bed. Eric charged in.

“Y/N what are you doing lying down?” he screamed. “We are way behind schedule and you are lying down!”

“Eric, calm down, we are not behind sc- “

“We are!” He cut me off “Just because your Avengers ass can save the world with your own powers doesn't mean the rest of us can. You shouldn't have come on this mission! Just because you wanted to get away from your ex doesn't mean you have to botch up the security of-”

He was cut off as I used my powers to slam him into the hallway. I banged the door shut and let out a choked sob. I never wanted to leave Loki. He was my everything, my life and now, now i can't even talk to him. His father threatened to smite me if I continued seeing his son, and he forced me to never speak to him again. Odin continued by saying that I could not be with his son, or not only my life, but his too would be in danger, and I love Loki too much for that. I collapsed on the bed and snatched up my phone, scrolling to the beginning of my text message history with Loki. Without him, nothing would ever be the same.

Sometimes I start to wonder was it just a lie

If what we had was real how could you be fine?

I slammed the door shut behind me as I entered my room. Yes why did Y/N want to leave everything behind. It was that Eric guy I’m positive. He stole my Y/N and she went with him. So much for everyone deserving love.

Cause I’m not fine at all

I can’t take it. How could she do this to me. “HOW” I screamed. She promised. “YOU PROMISED” I flung my dresser across the room. I smashed my bed and threw objects everywhere. Falling to the ground, I screamed my throat raw.  I am a monster, I guess, so why not act the part.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the makeup running down your face

I woke up to see Y/N packing a suitcase.

“You have a mission?” I asked, confused. She sniffled and continued packing. Y/N, what's wrong love?”

“Don't call me that.” She said.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I said, don't call me love. Your not capable of love.”

“Y/N?” I asked, hurt. “don't say that.”

She stood up, dragging her suitcase behind her and shoved me out of her way. “I can't love a mon-monster” she said and ran out the door.

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them

Like every single wish we ever made

I locked myself in my room. Y/N, the one person who truly loved me, or so I thought, had called me a monster. Through my tears, I saw a glistening object on the desktop. the promise ring I had given her was lying on the desk, along with every last shred of hope I had that she still loved me.

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

and forget all of the stupid little things.

Thor barged into the room. “

What did you do to Y/N brother?!” he roared, squeezing me by the shoulders.

“Do you think I asked for this?” I looked up at him with despair. “She just left.”

“He’s right.” Tony said from the door. “Y/N said he didn't do anything.”

“WELL THEN WHY DID SHE LEAVE?” I screamed

“She said she didn't, well she didn't love you anymore.” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

I went limp in Thor's arms.

“Brother…” he said, “I-”

“DON'T” I screamed.  “JUST LEAVE ME! I JUST WISH I COULD FORGET EVERYTHING”

like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I can never escape

“Whatcha reading?” Y/N asked, resting her head on my shoulder.

“A Midgardian play, this Shakespeare fellow was quite the talented man.”

She fell back on the pillow and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Mmk, just shut the lights when you finish. I wanna cuddle.”

“My darling, you know I always have time to ‘cuddle’ as you call it.”

She smiled as I marked my page and reached over to turn off the lamp.

“Love you” she said as she snuggled her face to my chest. I stroked her hair with one hand and place the other on the small of her back.

“I love you too my darling.”

Cause I’m not fine at all

The pictures that you sent me are still living in my phone,

I’ll admit I like to see them I’ll admit I feel alone

I sat in the rubble that was formerly my room and turned on the device Midgardians so often had their faces glued to; a cell phone. Countless photographs of Y/N were still on my collection of photographs. Her smile was frozen, caught in that moment, a moment of pure joy. Something that she apparently could not experience with me.

And all my friends keep asking why I’m not around

“Brother, I know it is not easy after…”

“Just get on with it”

“Loki you need to come outside.”

“I go on missions with you and your stupid society of Avengers.“

“Loki that's not enough. You need to focus on your own health.”

“How can I without her, Brother?

It hurts to know you’re happy yeah it hurts that you’ve moved on

It’s hard to hear your name when I haven’t seen you in so long.

“Reindeer Games, get down to the briefing room, were having a meeting” Starks voice boomed through the PA system in the tower.

I quickly cast an illusion to hide my wrecked state and made my way downstairs.

“All right now that you’re here we can start” The Black Widow said, standing up as I entered the briefing room. I was in a dazed state as she began droning on about logistics and charts, and I was just about to fall into a doze when I heard her name.

“The new S.H.I.E.L.D chapter is going very well,  Eric and Y/N are…”  And my mind collapsed. My illusion fell away as I ran out of the room.

If today I woke up with you right beside me.

Like all of this was just some twisted dream

I hold you closer than I ever did before

And you would never slip away and

you would never hear me say

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to see her. I cast an illusion of my lovely Y/N with a shaky hand. I was warned against casting too many illusions; spend too much time with illusions and reality will begin to slip away, but what difference would it make. My reality, my Y/N had already slipped away. Her illusion stood in the middle of the room, her face neutral and still. I slowly approached her and traced the outline of her face.

“Y/N my love- I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.”

Cause I'm not fine at all

No I'm really not fine at all

Tell me this is just a dream

Cause I'm really not fine at all

Does anyone want a part 2?

[seeoveray-blog]

Patched, a GTA LCS fanfic (Chapter 1)

A lady who goes by the name Venetia is seen in her locked bedroom, wearing a gray black jacket and holding a black PlayStation Portable. Popcorn is scattered on a table, and a 1 liter water bottle has half of its content sitting while the room was air-conditioned.

"Finally, finished that bastard GTA V. Now let's continue the crap I left out before in Liberty City." she mumbled as she put in the Memory Stick.

The game loaded, and Antonio Cipriani was in his safehouse. There was a floating compact disk on the living room, a spinning heart on a blue circle on the kitchen, and a spinning T-shirt on a blue circle beside the wardrobe in the bedroom. Spinning on his mind, was that his bed was cranky.

He could only feel his entire body acting like a puppet. He did not know why, but at least he's got a brass knuckle, a knife, a pistol, a submachine gun, a sniper rifle, a shotgun, and an AK 47. And he's got money as well—but it's just that he could feel something was controlling him.

Meanwhile, Venetia's eyes appear to somewhat smile. She 'controlled' the protagonist Toni so he could accomplish the next mission.

***

"OH SHIIIIIIIIIT!" Salvatore Leone shouted as Toni drove the Leone Sentinel car to the Callahan Bridge ramp. The car flung forward, and while the police were chasing them, it was still a memorable close call for Sal.

"I would kiss you if you had shaved!" Sal adds, looking at Toni's 5 o'clock shadow.

With the right angles and strategic analog stick steering of Venetia, Toni was able to drive to the safehouse even before the police cars could ram them or put some spikes on the road. Toni and Sal briefly talked before they parted for the meantime.

Toni gazed at the apartment, and he went inside. Cutscene and then he's now in his room. Compared to the Portland safehouse, this one was significantly spacious. The garage even had a capacity of two back when he saw it earlier.

Venetia's eyes drooped out of exhaustion. Believe it or not, she had played for 30 hours straight so far. And—

***

When she blinked, her whole body was, as if trying to adjust. Her joints felt sorta painful. And opening her eyes, she yelped—as she saw a naked Toni trying to choose between an Antonio and a Chaffeur outfit.

"Damn!" she mentioned, closing her eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here? In my room, huh?"

With her eyes shut, she tried to rely on her ears. But think of it, whatever was the layout of Toni's bedroom, it looked exactly as was her own... she thought.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Blodwen yelled.

"Shut up, bitch." Toni replied, wearing his Leone suit. He pointed his shotgun onto her forehead.

"What's this? Explain this to me." Toni told her, holding up her shiny black PSP.

"That's a PSP."

"Why am I in this screen?"

Ven was speechless.

"Tell me or I'll pull the trigger!" Toni replied.

"I'm playing with it, okay?"

"You're playing with me? And who are you to do that, even to the point of going into my apartment?"

"Man, you're fiction."

"I don't believe you." Toni then holds the shotgun to his side. "I don't even know you."

"Listen up, and don't kill me. I know your story. I know that your Ma hates you. I know that Maria Latore is Sal's girl and wanted to start an affair with you at some point. I know that Sal is against the Sindaccos, Forellis, and other crime groups. You can't swim! Damn, you say you're a tough guy but yeah! Also, you killed Vinnie, but that's because I'm a good player! Also, call me Ven by the way."

"You mean you also nearly killed me 40 times before I could go to the third mission?"

"It's called 'Wasted', mister Cipriani. Alas, you're in the game, and I'm the real player. But for fuck's sake, I'm in your fucking universe! For no reason at all!"

Toni shrugged but looked at her with question, and then the PSP screen. Yeah, she's in the screen. Amazing patch there.

"But promise sir, I'll help you finish the missions, if you will let me control you, because I know everything about this Liberty City thing.?"

"Fine, help me with some missions by being my proxy or better, a servant, you shitlass. I better go to sleep, Ven, and tomorrow I shall have some noodles. Capiche?" Toni said and then laid on bed.

While he was asleep, Ven gently inserted her hands onto a pocket in his pants, and she was able to pull a green bill. She pulled some more until she got some ten thousand bills out of he twenty-five thousand Toni held.

"Fuck yeah." Ven whispered to herself, and she walked out of the apartment.

Ven found a PCJ 600 in the alleyway and then noticed that in her pocket, was her cellphone. No matter how she would turn off the positioning radar, it wouldn't shut.

"Damn location might track me and kill me." Ven told herself.

But then a thought struck her. She's in the game. She can use the radar to check locations so she wouldn't get lost. Although she isn't used to riding motorbikes, she had to. She turned on the engine, and boy it was fast! She stopped whenever she was about to hit a vehicle, and cussed at it. She first drove near Phil's Fully Cocked Gun Shop and in the alleyway she found a Katana. Holding the light yet strong sword, she grinned at it.

"Flashy bastard can help me out. I wonder how I could bring this?"

Fortunately, she had a magic satchel. In her jogging pants' pocket, she slid the long sword and poof, it fit as it it was just a Pokémon in a capsule. She went to Ammu-Nation to buy an AK-47, body armor, and an Uzi.

Driving away, she went to the Bedford subway station and then boarded the train back to Chinatown. When she got there, she treaded to find the "Punk Noodles".

"Oh shit, there's an RC triad and they're probably armed!" Ven told herself, and she gulped. She shook, but then she held her katana, and a wave of virility entered her veins.

"I must decapitate these bastards."

With a single stroke deriving what she learned from Wushu, she was able to kill two of the three. A pool of blood made them flesh islands on the road as well. She stabbed the last one, but then looking around, a cop was there to hit her with his Nightstick. Fortunately she slashed the Katana and his head fell off, and a fountain of blood gushed from his neck. Meat cleavers were dropped, alongside the cop's Pistol which she took and a Nightstick, as she took the money they left.

[bestiatexere]

Low jazz tunes resonated throughout the club, a soft & lilted symphony as the band strummed a soulful tune even without the momentary accompaniment of their vocalist. Their vocalist, who had transferred to the bar, head cocked upon a hand as digits idly swirled a stirrer through her glass, vaguely content in the midst of her solitude; before dull recognition of another's presence sliding into the seat beside her made her sigh. "Please don't." She doesn't even spare them a glance. "I'm on break."

Sleek, polished stone made up the exterior in flat tiles, stacksof striking shapes, and carved, geometric motifs. A series of bold lines racedupwards from either side of the symmetrical façade and fell into an angular,zig-zagging rhythm as they climbed towards each other. They met as they bloomedoutwards into a wide curve of stone ledge, decorated by stylized flowers andvines. The floral statues supported a large sign which glowed a warm yellow andannounced the building’s name.

The Midnight Sun.

The arched entry was set in deep under the ledge and up aset of low, stone steps that swept out from the face of the building. A sturdyhandrail, of a contrastingly delicatewave design, lined the worn steps leading up to the entrance. The wood andglass double doors were topped and framed by a set of textured leadlights presentinga starburst display. In an eye-catching script, club’s name was repeated withinthe central sun.

With one last, admiring look, Raz headed up the steps andthrough the elegant doors. Inside, the smooth, herringbone floor of theentryway spread out before him and seemed to soak in the glow coming from thedramatic pendant light above.

Straight ahead was a large desk with an employee positioned behind. Off to the side of her was the metal face of the elevator, with etchedpanels on either side and golden streaks of details on the doors. To the right,the floor stepped down into a lobby area, filled with comfortable chairs andcoffee tables, and complete with its own bar on the far wall. It was a place tomingle in a quieter atmosphere while still enjoying the music flowing from theother half.

Raz smiled and inclined his head at the woman behind thedesk as he turned left. He moved throughwide, open doors into the main lounge, stepping past a happy couple makingtheir way out.

Spacious, but lit in such a way that made it feel intimate,it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist…The club was beautiful. Finelocation, fine craftmanship, fine refreshments, and even damn fine-lookingemployees. Yes, this was the place to be, and the place he would make his ownsoon enough, if everything went according to plan.

Dark wood made up the floor, frames, and the majority ofthe furniture inside the large room, with metallic detailing inlayed withinthat drew the eye, but did not overwhelm it. High above, like crystalisedraindrops, suspended and glittering, the brilliant chandelier cast its lightonto the floors and walls, which seemed to bathe in the warmth.

Lights installed in rectangular covers were spread out alongthe walls, resting between the gold, bronze, and silver lines that ran along insubtle bands. His eyes followed along and reached the point where the linesmoved into a broad arch along the back wall. The stage was nestled beneath, setinto the curved alcove and holding the array of musicians as they played.

Hmm…

He frowned after checking his watch. He wasn’t late…

Turning his attention to the large blackboard, which heldthe evening’s schedule within its ornate frame, he easily spotted his problem. Theyhad changed the line-up it seemed, and he’d missed a certain woman’sperformance as a result. Damn them.

His frown disappeared with a sigh and a mental shrug. Therewas always next time. For now, he could just enjoy the scene and continue abouthis goal.

In between surveying the people around and moving throughthe room, his eyes travelled up along the walls and ceiling, finding the uniquedetails and impressive architectural traits that were this building type’ssignature. He took note of what might need touching up or reinforcing in thefuture. (He had to take care of his investment after all.) This place was goingto be around for a long time, if he had anything to say about it (and he did).

God, there was something about this style that stirred up anodd ache in his chest, and even he, who was usually in such good control of hisexpressions, couldn’t hide the light which came into his eyes due to it. Highquality materials, sleek lines, geometric designs, an air of classy refinement,with a dose of extravagance and luxury…it was a miraculous balm, a soothingpresence and one that pleased him like no other trend or movement had donebefore. If there was one thing humans did right, and that he thanked them for,it was the creation of this ‘Art Deco’.

His gaze drifted down from a stylistic painting of a cabaretperformance, going along with one of the lacquered lines along the wall andover towards the large bar. As guests moved across his vision, he caught aglimpse of a familiar figure.

Well, well, well…

The corner of his mouth quirked up, eyes once againbetraying his interest and delight.

Because there was one otherthing he thanked humanity for, and that was the gorgeous, talented woman thatsat at the very bar he was now heading over to. He might have missed out on herperformance, but it seemed he would currently have a better opportunity, one toactually talk to her and perhaps figure her out.

It was unlikely to him that she had noticed him in heraudience over the past week as he scoped out the place, given the lighting andthe fact he’d tried not to seem toointerested. But oh, he was veryinterested. There was something about her. Something different, and tempting. Useful, he told himself.

Perhaps if he got closer to her, literally and in otherways, he would figure it out. (His best guess so far was some sort ofconnection to a siren…)

He brushed past a pair of gentlemen, a waitress, and a womanon the prowl. A man with greasy hair and eager eyes was making his way towardsthe bar, eyes trained on the vocalist’s curves. Raz caught his arm in a lightgrip and tugged his attention onto himself, almost as if they were old friendscatching up. As their eyes met, he smirked, a glint of warning in play,delivered along with the low words.

“Think again, mate. That little songbird is not your game to hunt.”

Raz tightened his grip as he pushed a ‘suggestion’ into theman’s mind, “Stay on the other half of the club, and don’t you dare look at heragain.”

The surprised note in the human’s eyes melted intounderstanding and acceptance. Raz let him go and watched as the instructionswere followed and the man stationed himself on the opposite side of the room.

Satisfaction slipped in with a hint of a smirk and eased hisshoulders. Sometimes things were almost too easy.

But now, to get back to his objective…

He closed the remaining distance with no other troubles and claimedthe seat beside the woman at the bar in one smooth motion. His weight settledlightly on the leather top of the barstool, one of his arms coming to rest onthe smooth bartop. Pieces of carefully cut mirrors were arranged on the wall, reflectingand spreading the low lights around, catching on the multiple rows of glassesand bottles lined neatly on the back counter.

Those were details he had seen frequently this week, he didn’tneed to look at them now as there were others that held his attention (in theform of the singer beside him). He took in what details he could from thisangle, aware that this was his first close-up look and possibly the only one he would get, depending on how this went.

Long, dark lashes caught his eye, along with the soft skinof her cheek, and pretty profile of her nose and lips. She was beautiful, yes,but he was more interested in a detail that went beyond skin…or, moreaccurately, beneath it. Her bloodand the scent it gave off. Even with this proximity however, he couldn’t figureout what it was whispering to him. What was she? Perhaps if they were alonesomewhere, it would become clearer…

With a slight turn in his chair, he faced her a little moredirectly in preparation of starting some sort of conversation with her.

He didn’t get a chance to even open his mouth.

Her words beat him to it and caused him to blink. Amusementsnuck in and brought a smile, even as he gave a small wince and shake of hishead.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it, love? You don’t even knowwhat I was gonna say, or if I was gonnasay something.”

Shot down so swiftly, without even being looked at! (It was good his pride could handle such a thing) Thiswoman was clearly used to being approached and was no pushover. Interesting.And well, he couldn’t exactly blame her for wanting to have her break toherself.

He lifted his hand to catch the bartender’s attention,signalling for a drink before he added to the singer, his attention back on her,“Maybe I’m just here for a nice view, hm?”

There was a touch of teasing in his tone and smile as hiseyes briefly flicked over her and then glanced away. He shrugged and waved hishand in a conciliatory gesture.

“But, I get it. You want to be left alone.” There was a beator two, his focus drifting around towards the other people showing interest inher, seeming like they might approach. “So how about a deal?”

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Tess

A nice pre-Christmas argument

Tess joined the chat 2 hours ago Ali: Mamacita! How's tricks? Did you manage to get the gum out of Rocky's hair in the end or is he rocking a no.1 rn? Tess: It's hat season he'll be fine. It's your da you need to worry about if he doesn't get those bloody Christmas decs out Ali: At least you'll be saved the toxic fumes of the nit shampoo, like. I'll make him some earmuffs, ears like that, he'll get frostbite. Ali: Aww, leave off, he's got a bad back, like 😜 Ali: Caleb can come help with the heavy shit, he's like an ox, I'll be creative director, obvs, I've got the eye, he's got the body Ali: 😉 Tess: I hope you've got plenty of wool 'cause the dog got to ours and its a bloody state. He'll have a bad head to go with it in a minute. Nah you're alright bab Tommy's offered and Drew might as well make himself useful now he's sniffing round again. Ali: Well, there goes your classic jumper presents! Have to brave dem crowds, fight a bitch for the last...idk, what do kids even want these days? Last I heard from Rock mutant turtles and power rangers were back in vogue but they're probably out again, its been a week or so 😏 Contrary fuckers, eh? I was NEVER that bad, was I? Bet you wish you could relieve those easy years raising me, the dream child 😇 Ali: Alright then, though I wouldn't recommend confining Tommo and Drew to a space as small as the loft, T is gunning for him Ali: aren't we all? but hey 🤷 see if those muscles are just for show ay Tess: He's still on about that slime bollocks. Supposedly this stuff blows bubbles and expands or whatever. All I'm bothered about is that it says it ain't sticky. Better sodding not be. Ha! If you weren't being a little demon you were trying to raise them. Easy ain't the word love! Tess: I'll put Drew at the bottom of the ladder. Maybe some of the boxes'll land on his head. Knock some sense into the lad. Ro too seeing as she's never far. Ali: That shit is such a rip-off though, I could make him some dead cheap, tell him he can have it whatever colour, whatever random shit he wants in it, and no one else will have the same at School Ali: Save your money for the feast 💃'cos I won't be absolutely stuffed from my first xmas dinner, like, nah Ali: and demons need love too, ma, just ask Ro Ali: will he be joining us for meal numero dos? cos i don't think i can stomach 2 helpings of him in one day tbh Tess: Tell him yourself. I tried to make some with him in the summer and the ungrateful little sod wouldn't even come sit up the table. His loss. They loved it at work. Tess: Don't. That girl'll do me in one of these days . I'm surviving on spite by now 'cause he'll be eating with us over my dead body. Caleb's lot are welcome to keep him. Ali: I'm tellin ya get the kid some prescription speed, it'll do him wonders 😂 Well, that's another idea fucked...tis the season! Ali: I know, it ain't even funny at this point. Ali: You know she's gonna wanna go see him, yeah? You'll never get her to sit through games and shit telly once she's picked at her veg Ali: Its like kid swap up in here Tess: If I can get some what's on her plate into her instead of just the dog I'll be laughing. Fuck's sake. Kids who'd celebrate 'em? Grandkids on the other hand. Mary'd have been proper buzzing for that. Ali: Oi, woman! I'm right here Ali: and the giver of majority grandkids, so, think on, love Tess: You're even stevens kiddo. Keep it that way 'til you're done with uni yeah? Call that the xmas gift that keeps giving. Ali: yeah but a twofer ain't the same, is it? 😜 don't make promises i can't keep, ma Ali: engineering students are so fit, how will i resist? Tess: Tell that to Bea. I'm sure she'd have plenty to say back. Ali Mckenna don't test me there's plenty of room in the car when we go for Tommo's new specs I can get you in too. Ali: Yeah, yeah, she can lord it over me with her efficient vagina, getting it done in one, I'll be many bucks fizzes deep by then, give a shizzle Ali: Gurl, my vision is 20/20, in my third eye too, ooOOoOoOOOo Ali: Maybe Beatrice will prove again why she's your favourite daughter by distracting Ro so much with this London visit she won't have time to pine over Drew at all, happy days Tess: That's the spirit. Save your dad's back. He still thinks he's a brawler. Tess: Shh I don't have favorites I'm not one of your teachers. Tess: I'm sure Drew'll stay one text away throughout. Never off her phone now is she. Ali: Ahh, old man could still take him, Drew's a pussy Ali: I'll get Marlene round again lmao Ali: Suuuuuuuuuuuure ya don't 😏 Ali: We can only assume texting is a medium in which he really shines, 'cos seeing them IRL, doesn't make sense, so... Tess: Now that girl is a fave, thinking 'bout it. Yeah I like her. Tess: He must know his selfie angles or some shit. Tess: You tell me I'll never see the appeal. Ali: oh, sweet mama, if only you'd voiced your preference sooner, maybe i'd of married her and had lots of gaybies instead Ali: alas 🤣 Ali: you sound 100, do you feel it? 😉 Ali: he's a vessel for her hopes and dreams, init, but he ain't, he just needs to man up and move the fuck on so she can too Tess: Like you've ever listened to your ma. Double it and you ain't close, bab. I'm in those vampiric numbers here. Tess: Yeah. Maybe try telling her that. Ali: You wish you were a vampire. Which, tbh, is telling of how old you is. Ain't nothing cool about being a basement dwelling weirdo who can't sample the wonder and joy of garlic bread. Ali: Why don't you? Oh wait, cos it ain't for either of us to say it so we'll just sit here like bitter old lemons Ali: You're a bad influence, lady Tess: If that's what you think about vampire lore then I ain't gonna even waste my breath young'un. Tess: I have, cheers. I ain't sitting on my arse doing fuck all for you lot even if that's what you reckon. Tess: Exactly. Learn a lesson. Ali: Mhmm, go tell it to the lost boys 'cos I don't give a damn, I'm getting doughballs baby Ali: Pshhh, well fat lot of good its done, why you setting me up to fail then?! Ali: I know when to bow out gracefully Tess: I don't need to 'cause we'll all be snacking. If you'd watched that movie when I offered you'd know garlic don't work in that verse. Tess: There's nothing graceful about tapping out with a fight left to finish. I thought you'd been set up to go 'til the final bell but do what you've gotta do. Or don't. Tess: There's plenty of other shit stuck to the fridge singing your praises like Ali: No thank you, there's watching some lame for jokes, then there's forcing yourself to endure kiefer sutherland and co Ali: That's sadism. Ali: Well, there's nothing graceful about kicking a girl when she's down Ali: going blow for blow ain't always the right approach, is it? not with someone like Ro so don't start alright Tess: Lame? And you wonder why you ain't my fave. Tess: Helping your sister up is always the right approach if you don't want her to stay down. Tess: I'm not starting anything. I've said my piece. End of. Ali: C'mon, I know even Joe couldn't pretend to like it, like Ali: That's my point, she ain't fell yet, she's on a Drew-related high so pardon me from not trying take the rug from up under her Ali: not that I could if I tried, like I said, what good has you 'saying your piece' done? Ali: sometimes all you can do is be there to pick up the pieces after, that's just facts Tess: You all take after your da is why. No taste none of ya. Tess: It's done me a lot of good being able to get it on the record each time, cheers. Tess: sometimes that's a cop out 'cause you want a easy life Tess: Fact is there's plenty that could have been done before he did his reappearing act. Ali: Oh, yeah? Like what? Changing her entire worldview in time for tea? Ali: If it was that easy, you would've managed it by now Ali: Don't be so hard on yourself, your not doing her, or any of us, a favour with this shit Tess: He's a dealer it is that easy. It ain't my job to manage it though. You all wanna be treated like adults and have me wipe your arses for you at the same time I think not. Do yourself and her, a favor and use that big brain of yours. Ali: You think she doesn't know? Now who's being thick Ali: She doesn't care, so unless you're planning to cop shop him that means sweet fuck all doesn't it Tess: It ain't about what she knows. Last I checked he's not the only dealer in Dublin. There's still some honor among scumbags and more than one way to get caught out. Ali: Aww, such a softie at heart, ain't ya? Tess: Takes one to know one. Ali: That is one small step above 'I know you are but what am I?' Ali: No one wants Drew to get kneecapped or Ro to be collateral but he wants to be treated like an adult, so we can't wipe his arse, can we? Tess: Speak for yourself I'd spend my reddies to see that. However bad he thinks he is there's always someone worse and the sooner he learns it the better for all of us having to watch him play silly beggars Tess: Ro's worth a million of him maybe when she's grown up she'll know it. Ali: Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're such a hard bitch. Maybe if he'd got proper help from people like you he woulda turned out better when he was grown too. Ali: It ain't too late for either of them. Tess: I'm what I've had to be. I can't save 'em all. Not even close. You'd be well to stay away from him if you've still got the sense you were born with. Ali: Yeah but you still try, don't you? Read back your previous wisdom for your answer there. Ali: Bit hard when we live in the same gaff isn't it but I can assure you I'm not going out of my way to be his bestie, mother Tess: I ain't about to flog a dead dog. He ain't a stupid kid anymore and what happened when he was a little 'un ain't an excuse either Tess: Nobody's got it easy. Tess: It's up to him to work out if his turning point's come and gone or if he even reckons he needs one. Ali: You don't have to but you can see the pretense Ro is working under, yeah? She doesn't think she's doing anything wrong and, arguably, she ain't. But sometimes all you get for your efforts is a kick in the teeth. Ali: Nobody's got it easy. Ali: It's up to HER to call time, not us. Tess: Who says? I've been there. Thinkin I had it all and knew even more about my future with my dream boy. Nobody came to clue me in but even now I wish they fucking had done. Ali: Like you'd have listened. Tess: If I had someone who gave a shit maybe Tess: She'd listen to you. Ali: Say you had, would you have done anything differently? Even if you knew how it'd go, if you didn't have Ronnie, you might still be with Josh now Ali: It changes everything about you Ali: I don't think she would. There's no reasoning because there is no reason, or rhyme for that matter Tess: Of course I would. I'd do everything differently. I'm not trying to romanticise who I was. Or am. Tess: Change ain't no bad thing when it comes to this. Or me Tess: Because you don't wanna think that she would and deal with all the shit that comes with her doing that. I don't blame ya but that don't make it right Tess: it's still a cop out. Ali: Well, I hope it soothes YOUR soul villainizing yourself because as someone who's half you, it's not something that is helpful, at all. Ali: Who's been there for her after every break-up? Who has to listen to every fucking detail? It ain't been you. And I can assure you I didn't spend those times when he was out of the picture singing his fucking praises. I HAVE told her. Everyone has. It just pisses you off that you can't fix this, or her. Tess: You're all you. Your own person. End of. Tess: And it should help you to know the truth. I was a bad person Ali and I ain't exactly sainted now. I do my best that's all any of us've got. Deal with it. Tess: I'm sorry you want a gold star or pat on the head for doing what you're supposed to for who you love. You're not getting it from me. Try your luck with your da maybe. Tess: And yeah it does piss me off so what? Ali: That isn't close to being true. There's no such thing as an individual, sorry to burst your bubble. Ali: And no one is one or the other. Christ, you're so fucking old testament. Ali: If your going in for all that shite, you should look at how revered a knocked-up teenage girl is whilst you're at it Ali: No one gives a shit about your war stories, they don't help anyone but you so you keep all that anger and hold it tight 'cos none of us are here for it any more Ali: Good luck trying to get Rocky to sit still so you can tell him all about damnation to scare him straight, good fucking luck Tess: You're not gonna change my mind. If you were anything close to being half of me we wouldn't be having this conversation. Tess: Life's black and white for me. That's what happens when you don't have choices. Call it what you like. Tess: And there's nothing to be preached to me about being a knocked up teen by you or anyone else. I ain't trying to either you just think it's that onesided 'cause you never listen Tess: There you go again speaking for everyone else when you mean yourself. But whatever. Tess: Get your own stories and leave mine out of it. Tess: Grow up, Ali. Ali: Now there's a copout if I ever heard one. Ali: Listen to what? What are you spouting but hot air? Ali: Oh, yeah? What one of your sainted children has benefitted? Ronnie hates you, Joe's a junkie, me and Fraze did exactly what you did. Ali: Tommy is passable but he's unhappy as fuck so, well done there. You've only got one left. Ali: What's the point? No one can ever match up to your infinite wisdom, I'd rather stay young so I knew what the hell I was talking about instead of making myself look like an old fool

[valentinevar]

Don't Hesitate to Come Find Me

Chapter 7: I’m So Grateful For This Moment - When I Can Finally See You

Read it better on AO3 or Fanfiction

He was asleep, yet he fiercely held onto you. It took a few minutes before you gathered enough willpower to try and wiggle out of his arms, moving as little as possible to avoid waking him. You would love to fall asleep in his arms but you weren’t ready to let go of him again so you fought your urge to sleep and got off the bed. You couldn’t help but stare lovingly at him in his deep sleep. His breathing regular, his hair covering part of his face, and his creamy pale skin almost blending with his white sheets. He looked like an angel. After staring at him for what didn’t feel it was long enough, you left his bedroom. You went ahead and used the restroom, cleaned up, put your clothes back on, and walked around his apartment. You found his fan letters in a box by a small bookcase. You looked at the books in it and saw it was mostly scripts and theater plays. It brought a smile to your face. You found an electronic keyboard piano in a corner with a pretty worn out music sheet notebook. You picked it up and looked at a sequence of notes scribbled on the sheet. Well, you couldn’t read music, that was for sure, but all the eraser marks on the page hinted that whatever was written there was written by him. You turned the page around and a page fell out. Well, maybe not a page, just a piece of paper that had been hiding between the sheets. You pick it up to put it back in the notebook when you noticed his handwriting.

Take a chance, stay by my side

I could not condone losing you

I cannot love you halfway, nor be loved

Take a chance, I must know

Time stops when your love shines

You complete everything

You take my pain away

You make me lose myself

My body without your soul is

A ghost that fades at nightfall

You complete everything

You wondered if it was a poem or maybe lyrics to a song. You complete everything... Why don’t you just pull at my heartstrings, Zen? Even if it wasn’t something he wrote for you, these few words encompassed what you felt. Incomplete without him. You touched the keys of the keyboard. It was turned off so they didn’t make a sound but you ran your fingers through them anyways, wondering how many times Zen had sat in very chair, playing the piano, perfecting his music. A sound dragged you out of your thoughts when -

“MC!” you heard Zen call out, as he stumbled out of his room, frantically looking for you. He stood in the hallway, as completely naked as you had left him in bed.

“I’m here” you answered, getting up from the piano stool. It wasn’t obvious where you were from his angle as the bookcase covered probably half of you. When you stood up, however, his eyes found you and you saw him breathe in a sigh of relief. He turned around and went back into his room. You got up to follow after him. By the time you reached his room he had pulled up his running shorts which he had been wearing before your lovemaking. When he saw you he rushed to hold you, pulling your head against his chest.

“I thought you were gone again” he whispered.

“I didn’t fall asleep” you said “I was scared to”

“I’m glad you’re still here.” he said, laying a kiss on the top of your head. “Would you like to take a shower with me?” he asked. You nodded.

He guided you to the bathroom and opened the shower, letting the water run before stepping in. “It takes a minute to heat up” he said as he turned to grab a couple of clean towers from the cabinet overhead, placing them on the hook by the shower door. He turned around and smiled, placing his hands on the edge of your shirt. He pulled the fabric up and you lifted your arms, letting your top slide off. You had not bothered to put your bra back on after lovemaking so this left your breast exposed. He squatted and lowered your shorts, taking your underwear down with them and left them around your ankles, motioning you to step out of them. You complied. He stood again, turned around, and reached out to the water with his arm. “I like the water pretty hot. Is that ok with you?” he asked.

“Hot is fine” you said, admiring the muscles in his arms just from him stretching over to reach the water.

“After you, Princess” he said, smiling in your direction. His eyes traveled around your naked body and his smiled only widened further. You felt a flush to your cheeks. God, you felt so average compared to him. It wasn’t being naked that embarrassed you, he had already seen you naked. It was just… him, standing there in nothing but shorts, and looking like the most perfect man in the history of creation made you feel so... average and frankly, rather unsuitable. You walked past him and stepped in the shower, letting the water run through your body, trying to wash away your insecurities. He took his shorts off and stepped in the shower right behind you. He was so much taller than you that he could lean over you and steal all the water from the shower, which inexplicably made you laugh.

“Hey!” you complained, laughing at the situation. He laughed with you.. The shower head had a hose and could be moved from its locked position on the wall so you took it off its hook and aimed it at his head, the water running on his more comfortably. He rinsed his face and looked down at you, his wear hair dripping over his forehead. He looked beautiful.  “If you just wanted some water, you just had to ask” you said, still holding the shower head.

“I wanted to share babe” he said, turning his back towards you and getting the rest of his hair wet while you still held the shower head over him. You aimed the water to wherever he was still dry but looking at his wide back you couldn’t help your eyes travelling down to his buttocks. You couldn’t help but to find yourself admiring him again, biting your lower lip. He is so damn perfect. You didn’t notice when he grabbed the body wash and turned around with a loofah. “Put the shower back on the hook and come here, I want to wash you” he said. You obliged.

He started on your shoulders and your neck, gently rubbing the foamy sponge over your skin. He covered your arms and lifted them, getting your armpits and the sides of your torso. He ran the loofah over your chest but when he got to your breasts he just put the foam on his hand and washed them gently. It made you hold your breath for a second but he continued with the loofah, going down your abdomen and down to your legs. By now he was squatting in the shower, lifting one of your legs, to wash them and then the other. He did the same thing with your sex, washing it gently with his hand and some body wash. When he rubbed between your folds you couldn’t help but squirm a little,  making him smile. But he continued, rubbing your thighs, turning you around to wash your back after moving your hair out of the way, washing your buttocks gently. Then he grabbed the shower head and moved it around your body, rinsing off all the body wash.

“God, you’re so beautiful” he said, while admiring your body, catching you by surprise. The shower may not wash away your insecurities, but Zen’s words definitely helped.

“I was just thinking you’re the beautiful one” you said, taking the sponge from him. “Your turn” you added, smiling at him. You rinsed the sponge and added body wash again, making it foam. You started on his backs and applied pressure, rubbing every inch of it. You went to his flanks and wrapped your arm around him, reaching his abs but really, you were rubbing your breasts against his back. You noticed him taking breaths deeper than he was before, as if trying to control himself. You couldn’t keep the smirk off your face. You went down to his legs and then motioned him to turn around. When he did, you couldn’t help but notice he was hard again.

You looked at his erect member and took your hand to it, soothing it with long strokes. You saw him close his eyes and moan. You laved his groin with the shower head and placed it back in its hook, all while still languidly caressing his manhood. You took advantage of his eyes still being closed to press your body against his, tantalizing him, letting his arousal slide between your legs. Before he had a chance to react, you entwined your lips to his, getting lost in a long, deep kiss. It was impossible to describe, it consumed and sated you at the same time. Zen ran his hands through your back, exploring and immersing in every inch of your wet skin. Not a minute later he had you pressed against the wall of the shower, holding one of your legs with his forearm while plunging into you, You succumbed, yet again, to his ravishing provokations, his urge; inciting in you quivering sensation that you had only ever experienced with him before. Soon after, both of you had reached your climax while the water still slid down your bodies.

Once you regained your composure, you washed each other’s hair and rinsed off. Zen wrapped the clean towel around you and rubbed your arms to warm you off as it immediately felt chilly out of the hot steam of the shower. You both got dressed and he had you sit on a stool in his bathroom while he blow dried your hair.

“I don’t want you to get a cold my baby lamb” he said playfully. You couldn’t help but to giggle at his remark.

“Baby lamb? Is that because you’re a wolf?” you asked lightheartedly.

“That’s…” he said leaning close to your ear “...exactly right” he whispered, before planting a kiss on your neck and continuing to blow dry your hair. Moments like this made your heart flutter with love. Such a simple thing but it made you soar. Nothing could ever compare to this feeling.

You talked about silly, mundane things and the time flew by. You cooked food together and fed each other while kisses, caresses, and whispers of love floated in the air whenever your eyes crossed. But even then there was an ache in your heart that coated with a sour undertone every time you looked at him. You did your best not to let it show but there was this melancholy to his eyes that no matter how many times you kissed him or you professed your love for him just wouldn’t disappear.

Trying to put these thoughts out of your head you asked him about the piano. After some persuasion, he agreed to play something for you. He started with some basic stuff, songs you’d heard countless times before. He was wonderful. His singing was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard and just staring at him play made you forget anything that was wrong. Any looming sense of dread you had vanish, if only for a few minutes. He moved the pages on his music notebook and the paper came out with the handwritten lyrics. He chuckled when he saw it but made no motion to comment on it.

“Did you write it?” you asked him, referring to the lyrics.

“I did” he said. “You read it? It is not complete” he added. “I started writing this before I met you… but the last part I wrote when you were gone“ he stared at it in thought. “Do you want to hear it?” he offered. You nodded. He opened the previous page of his music notebook and position his hands on the keys. He paused for a second, as if stringing the music in his head before laying it out to you. “It sounds better on a grand piano” he added before starting “I wrote most of it using the theater’s piano”. Then he began.

It was a soft melody, full of light-toned keys that mixed well together. It wasn’t upbeat, in fact, it was very much a melancholic song… or maybe it was just how he was playing it. He sang the lyrics you had read, his eyes closed when he his the higher notes and he did so beautifully. Then he added a verse you hadn’t read before.

Even apart, I still love you just as much

The yearning of this love still beats today

I see in your eyes this fire won’t fade

This fire is still there.

You complete everything.