#I mean round head style is kinda normal but the eyes are usually round circles mine is like a s0nic + turm4 da mônica eyes

[celibibratty]

my style must be a little different for people, cuz me being me(the one who draws it) I'm used to it so for me looks normal😅, but like, I draw the characters with round heads, giant eyes aaand they don't have nose (describing like that sounds scary😂💦), but funny that it doesn't look scary at all (i mean idk maybe some people find scary😕, but i the one who draws i don't find)

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you��d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

[dixie12]

kink confession #3

i really love puppy play. i see it as a progression of d/s play, where the sub partner gets to really get out of their head, and just get totally spoiled and taken care of by their dom. and if anyone deserves to be petted and loved on and called a good boy, it's jonny.

i meant this to be a quick, smutty thing, but the boys wouldn't cooperate and get down to the porn, so it's almost 4k words, but i had fun writing it!

“You can’t even keep a houseplant alive, Kaner. There is absolutely no way anyone would ever entrust you with a dog,” Jonny said, for what felt like the twentieth time that night. Sharpy never should have let Pat dog-sit Shooter a few weeks ago, because ever since then, Pat seemed to bring up getting a dog at least once a day. “Plus, we’re on the road, like, all the time. It would be cruel to the dog,” Jonny continued. He had no idea why Pat was so insistent on this.

“I’d be awesome at it, though!” Pat exclaimed, sulking just a little. “I practically raised all three of my sisters, and they turned out great.”

“Raised them in between playing on five different peewee teams, Peeks?” Sharpy interjected into the conversation. “And you’re barely a year older than Erica, come on!”

“Whatever,” Pat grumbled. “I’d be the best dog dad ever. Shooter’s probably begging to come back and live with me. I’d give him steak, and belly rubs, and we’d go on long walks, and-”

“Are you describing a dog or your dating profile, man?” Sharpy interrupted, laughing, and Patrick’s cheeks turned a light pink, almost unnoticeable in the dim light of the bar, but Jonny was watching him pretty closely, like he always did.

“Fuck off, Sharpy. Jesus, don’t make it weird,” Patrick replied, rolling his eyes. Thankfully, the conversation moved on after that, when the rookies came back with a round of shots for the table. Jonny lost track of the number of rounds after that, but the rest of the night passed in a blur, and he and Pat were leaning on each other for balance by the time they were waiting for a cab to get back to their hotel.

When they were finally back in their room, clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor (Jonny) or folded neatly on the desk chair (Patrick), Patrick brought it up again. “Seriously, Jonny, I’d be so good at it,” he said plaintively. Jonny could imagine the puppy dog eyes he was making, so appropriate for this situation, and forced himself to stay quiet. Patrick sounded almost forlorn, and Jonny really hated when he sounded like that, all of his instincts telling him to make Pat feel better, but it was still a bad idea.

“Maybe I could, like, prove how good I’d be!” Pat said into the silence. “Come over next weekend, man, and I’ll show you. You’ll change your mind, I swear.” At that point, Jonny was drunk and tired enough that he said yes, mostly just to get Pat to go to sleep. Looking back, he really should have asked some important questions, mainly, what the fuck did Patrick mean by “showing him,” but his eyes were dragging closed, and he passed out as soon as he mumbled his agreement.

*

Jonny walked into Pat’s apartment, unsure what to expect. Pat hadn’t been very forthcoming on the phone. He’d actually sounded a little nervous, voice higher than usual, words coming out quickly, telling Jonny to just get over to his apartment already. Jonny walked in slowly, peering around the corner, ready to be ambushed by an entire pack of dogs, or maybe a powerpoint presentation entitled ‘Why Patrick Kane Deserves a Dog” complete with ClipArt pictures and comic sans font. He certainly wouldn’t put it past Pat to try something that ridiculous.

Pat was just sitting on the couch in his living room, though, TV on but not really watching it. His head jerked in Jonny’s direction as he entered, and Pat sat up straighter.

“Hey, man,” he said, still with that undercurrent of nerves that Jonny heard over the phone.

“Ok, I’m here,” Jonny replied, skipping over a normal greeting entirely. “Let’s get this over with so we can watch some tape tonight.”

“Yea, yea,” Pat said, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward and picked up a small package that Jonny hadn’t noticed, sitting on the coffee table. “Here,” he said, offering the box to Jonny. “This is for you. For today.”

“Ok…” Jon answered, taking the box in his hands. It was light, but it rattled a little when he shook it. He opened it gingerly, lifting the top off. There was tissue paper inside, and when he pulled it out, he saw a red and black leather dog collar. There was a tag on it, a simple circle that was cool to the touch as he fingered it gently, turning it over. The back just read “88” with no other markings.

“Uhhh, what is this, Pat?” Jonny asked, stroking his fingers over the leather. It was buttery soft in his hand, silver buckle polished to a high shine.

“It’s for you!” Patrick repeated, voice somewhat manic. “You’re going to wear it, and pretend to be a dog, so I can take care of you and show you how good I am at it!” Jonny just stared at him, dumfounded. He could feel his jaw hanging open, but didn’t have the mental energy to close it, too busy repeating Pat’s words in his head. He seriously expected Jonny to…

“You seriously expect me to put on a fucking dog collar and what, crawl around on the ground? So you can show me that you should get a real dog? That will be left alone half the season and then dragged back and forth to Buffalo? Are you insane?” Jonny half-yelled the last sentence, feeling hysterical.

“I mean, when you put it that way…” Pat’s eyes dropped guiltily, and he was blushing now. “I wasn’t really thinking of it like that. I just… I think I’d be good at this, and it sucks that everyone thinks I can’t be trusted.” He looked up at Jonny through his lashes, and with his curls in desperate need of a haircut, he looked heartbreakingly young and sad. Jonny could feel his resolve breaking.

He guessed they had kind of been jerks to Pat in the bar, making fun of him. Pat had gotten a lot more responsible in the last year, and he’d probably do fine with a dog, and maybe they shouldn’t have teased him so much. Pat was still looking at him imploringly, eyes wide and hopeful. Fine, he’d do this for a few minutes, assuage his guilt, and then they’d never speak of it again.

“Jesus, fine,” he huffed out. “But you mention a single word of this to anyone and I’m going to stab you with a skate blade, Happy Gilmore style,” Jonny threatened, narrowing his eyes at Pat, whose blinding grin made the upcoming embarrassment worthwhile.

“Yea, of course, Jonny. It’ll be our thing, I promise,” he said, taking the collar from Jonny’s hands. “Go put on some sweats, I think that will be more comfortable, ok?” and Jonny didn’t even bother fighting that one. The sooner they got this started, the sooner it would be over.

He came out of Pat’s guest room dressed in a pair of his own sweatpants that he’d left there at some point. They were well-worn, soft, and smelled like Pat’s detergent.

“Ok, come here so I can put this on you,” Pat said, gesturing Jonny towards him with the hand that still held the collar. Jonny walked towards him slowly, prior nerves that he’d fought down returning with a vengeance as he watched Pat unbuckle the collar in preparation. He took a deep breath, stopping just in front of Patrick, who tugged his shoulder until he turned around. “Crouch down a little so I can reach, dick,” Pat said, pushing on his shoulder.

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t call your, uh, I mean, a dog a dick, Pat. That’s kinda mean,” Jonny complained.

“Hey as soon as it’s all the way on, I’m going to treat you like gold, Jonny,” Pat said. Jon felt the collar tightening against the tensed muscles in his neck. “Relax,” Pat said, voice dropping low, one hand running from Jon’s neck to his shoulder, soothing. Jonny shivered, but some of the stiffness in him relaxed, and Pat slid the buckle into place. “How’s that feel?” he asked, slipping a finger underneath to test for any give.

Jonny had to clear his throat, which was suddenly dry. “Uhh, it’s good,” he got out. “I mean, it’s fine. Not too tight,” he mumbled.

“Perfect,” Pat said, and the word warmed something inside him.

“So what do we do now?” Jon asked, wondering just what Pat had planned for their play date.

“Uh-uh, Jonny. Dogs don’t talk,” Pat answered with a smile. “You just do what I say and let me spoil you.” And oh. Jonny had never had someone say anything like that to him before. He could feel the blossom of heat in his cheeks and knew it was spreading down his neck and chest, as well. He desperately hoped that Pat just thought he was embarrassed. That’s all it was, he told himself firmly, willing himself to get it together. He just wasn’t used to hearing things like that directed at himself. Hell, he’d never talked to any girls like that either, like they were something precious to take care of.

Jon nodded jerkily, determined to play along and not make it weird. Or, weirder than it already was, he guessed.

“Ok, first things first- every dog deserves some time snuggling on the couch, come on,” Pat said, starting to walk into the living room. Jonny hesitated, unsure for a moment if Pat expected him to like, crawl on all fours behind him. That wouldn’t be very good for his knees, he thought. Or his dignity.

Patrick seemed to get what he was thinking and laughed as he answered “nah, man, you can walk like normal. Unless you like, really want to get method on me, then you can go ahead and crawl.” Jon shook his head hard, following behind Pat into the living room.

Pat sat down on the couch, then gestured next to him. Jon sat, somewhat stiffly, but Pat immediately pushed him down. “No, come on, that’s not snuggling. Lie down,” he directed, and Jon allowed himself to be pushed over. His head ended up in Pat’s lap, which he didn’t think he’d done since he was drunk with TJ at UND. He’d definitely never cuddled with his head in a guy’s lap while sober, he knew that much. Maybe he should have pregamed with some shots before he came over today.

Too late now, though. “Yea, that’s good,” Pat was saying, as he stroked his hand through Jonny’s hair. “Good boy.” Jonny suppressed another shiver. He’d always been a sucker for having his hair played with, and it figured that Pat had discovered the weakness right away. “I know you don’t like my reality TV, so I’m putting on a nature show for you. They’re supposed to be very soothing for dogs, ok?” Pat said, and Jonny could get used to that, to Pat catering to what he wanted. Jon was pretty sure Pat didn’t actually want a response, what with the whole “dogs don’t talk” thing he had insisted on, so instead, he let himself relax a little bit more into Pat’s lap.

The show actually was soothing. Jonny was only half-listening to the English-accented narrator talk about different kinds of jellyfish, letting his mind wander as Pat continued to stroke his hair. Sometimes he’d grasp at it and tug, and every time, Jonny had to bite back a moan. Soon, Pat’s hand had wandered down from his hair and was stroking long, firm pats (there was no better word for it) down his neck and shoulder. Jonny shuddered into one of them, and he could hear the smile in Pat’s voice as he said “yea, feels good, doesn’t it?” hand never stopping.

Jonny was glad that he wasn’t expected to answer, not sure he’d have been able to get any words out anyway. He let out a deep sigh, instead, and Pat crooned at him “good boy. Good, good boy.”

Jonny lost track of time after that, mind and body both relaxed. He jerked in surprise when Pat moved to get up. “Shh, it’s ok. Good boy,” Pat soothed. “I’m just going to get dinner going. I promised you a steak, didn’t I?”

Jon nodded, letting himself sink back into the cushions of the couch. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable without Pat there underneath him, but it gave him a chance to get himself back under control. It was hitting him harder than he expected, Patrick touching him gently and saying soft, sweet things to him. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind from the fog it had fallen into.

He could hear Pat puttering in the kitchen, and for once didn’t feel any guilt about not helping. He listened as Pat heated the stovetop, then heard the sizzle of steak hitting the frying pan. Usually, he’d be bugging Pat about not cooking with oil, and preparing healthy side dishes, keeping up his side of the banter that was expected of him. Tonight, though, Pat didn’t expect that from him. Didn’t want it from him, either. Just wanted him to lie still on the couch and wait, and Jon could do that.

He was almost dozing when Patrick walked back in. Jon perked up at the smell of food, and Pat sounded fond when he said “dinner’s here, pup.” Jon started at that, but before he could get himself good and worked up, Pat was sitting next to him, two large steaks on a plate on the coffee table. Jonny sat up, looking at the food expectantly, but Pat shook his head.

“Pups don’t eat on the couch,” he said, and he placed a cushion that Jon had never seen before on the floor. Pat pushed at his shoulder once, and, fine, the steak looked and smelled delicious, so Jon could suffer the indignity of eating on the floor. He settled down on the cushion, which was soft and velvety beneath him, and reached towards the plate. It was only then that he realized there was only one set of utensils.

Pat leaned forward, cutting a piece of steak from one of the filets. He blew on it for a moment, then gently took it off the fork and offered it to Jonny between his fingers. Jonny took just a moment to consider the pink center and perfect sear, smell even more tantalizing as Patrick brought it to his mouth. He swallowed hard, then leaned forward, taking the bite from Pat’s fingers. Pat smiled at that, broad and bright, as he cut the next piece off for himself.

Pat had turned the TV down, now just a quiet white noise in the background as they made their way through dinner. Usually, as two guys in their twenties with a physically demanding job, they inhaled their food, finishing in a matter of minutes. Pat was taking his time tonight, though, cutting off pieces of steak that were the perfect size for Jon, letting Jon take them delicately from his fingers.

Without the ability to talk, or even use his hands, Jon’s other senses felt heightened, even as his mind felt more relaxed. He could feel himself settling deeper onto the cushion, shifting his weight more comfortably on the velvet, which was soft on the tops of his exposed feet. His arms were heavy as they hung by his side, hands folded in his lap, unnecessary now, because Pat was taking care of him. The smell of the steak hung in the air, enticing and reminiscent of dozens of other nights he’d spent with Pat.

He closed his eyes as Pat fed him another bite, and fuck if this wasn’t the best steak he could remember having, seasoning sharp and tangy, steak melting in his mouth. He could feel some of the juice running down Pat’s hand, and he lapped it at without thinking, not wanting to miss out on any of the taste. He heard Pat’s quiet gasp as he licked over his fingers, tongue curling in between them, but Pat didn’t pull back, didn’t say anything else, just took his clean hand and stroked Jonny’s cheek.

“Yea, it’s good, huh, isn’t it, pup?” he asked, voice hushed. “Made it just for you,” and Jon licked harder at that, strangely comforted by having something in his mouth. He heard himself whine when Pat gently pulled his fingers out of Jonny’s mouth, but couldn’t spare the thought to be embarrassed before Pat’s hand was back with another piece. Instead of holding it out for Jonny between his fingers, though, he had it in the palm of his hand. Jonny bent his head closer, no hesitation in him as he picked up the piece with his teeth and tongue, and then Pat’s hand was still there, dripping with juice and salt and seasoning, and he set in to lick it clean.

He enjoyed the sensation of the rough calluses on Pat’s palm, built up from years of stickhandling, and kept dragging his tongue over them long after Pat’s hand was free from any traces of the steak. Pat kept a hand in his hair, smoothing through it, scratching at Jonny’s scalp in a way that felt blissful. He kept at it even after Jonny stopped licking, as Jonny knelt there on the cushion at his feet. They stayed like that until Jonny’s head grew heavy, neck wobbly with relaxation, and he rested it on Pat’s leg.

“Ok, pup,” Pat said eventually. “Let’s get you some water, yea?” Jonny didn’t attempt to answer, just picked his head up and watched as Pat rose from the couch. He realized Pat was walking out towards the kitchen, and suddenly didn’t want to be alone. Without thinking about it, he put his hands on the hardwood floor and started crawling out of the room after Pat.

Pat only took a few steps out of the room before he stopped, turning around and looking down at Jonny. Jonny couldn’t quite tell what expression was on Pat’s face, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile so softly, not even when talking to his sisters.

“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you, pup?” he said gently, and Jonny shivered. “Yea, you just want to be with your person, huh,” Pat continued, bending down and working a finger under Jonny’s collar. He tugged it gently, making Jonny gasp at the reminder of what was around his neck, and then let go. He scrubbed his hand through Jonny’s hair once more before turning back around and continuing towards the kitchen. Jonny kept crawling behind him, then settled himself in the entryway while Pat poured two glasses of water.

“Come on, boy,” he said, walking back to the couch, and Jonny followed without pause.

When they got back to the living room, Pat grabbed the cushion that he’d laid out for Jonny for dinner, dragging it closer to the couch. “It’ll be easier for you to drink like this, pup,” he explained, tugging Jonny towards him and holding one of the glasses out to his lips. He tipped it up slowly, letting Jonny drink at his own pace, and Jon could feel himself blushing again. The intimacy of the moment, being at Pat’s feet, letting Pat help him drink, hit him hard, and he realized that he hadn’t even attempted to take the glass in his hands, even before Pat said anything. He’d just assumed that Pat would take care of that for him, just like Pat had been taking care of everything else tonight. He was overwhelmed, suddenly, with affection for Pat, and he dropped his head, nuzzling into Pat’s thigh.

He heard Pat’s short, sweet laugh above him, and he almost pulled back, but Pat brought one big hand down, laying it on the back of his neck, keeping his head there.

“Yea, I love you too, pup,” he murmured, and Jon could hear the warmth in his voice. Jon smiled to himself, groaning quietly as Pat’s hand started up with the long strokes through his hair again, and he let his head rest on Pat’s thigh, body melting into Pat’s strong legs at the feeling of the hand in his hair.

He let himself be lulled by the soothing strokes, mind drifting, eyes closed. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes again, the room was darker, and Pat had slouched down a little further on the couch. He still had his hand in Jonny’s hair, though, occasionally running it down his neck, rubbing in small circles. It felt amazing, and Jonny leaned forward, trying to get Pat’s attention to give him another drink of water.

When he leaned in, though, he rubbed up against Pat’s leg, and fuck that felt good. He hadn’t even realized he was hard until his cock made contact with Pat’s leg, but now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t stop himself from jerking his hips again. A whine slipped out of his lips as his hips thrust forward a third time, seeking out the hard planes of Pat’s leg, grinding his cock there. He could feel the precome slicking down his dick, easing the way for him to keep rubbing up against Pat, even through his soft sweatpants. He whined again at the feel of it, dirty, but so good.

He heard Pat gasp a sharp breath above him, heard him groan out a “fuuuck J-, I mean, pup.” Jonny could feel the blush blooming in his cheeks, but he didn’t care, not when the simple pressure of Pat’s leg against the hot length of him felt like this. “Yea thats good, pup,” Pat said, half a moan, and he dropped his hand lower, between Jonny’s shoulder blades, pushing gently on his back, encouraging him to ride Pat’s leg even harder. “Want you to feel good, baby. Make yourself feel good for me,” and the approval in Pat’s voice lit Jonny up from the inside, warm glow of it driving out the last of his embarrassment.

He buried his face in Pat’s thigh, not using his hands at all, just letting his hips work mindlessly, rutting up against Pat’s leg. This wasn’t going to take long, not with Pat’s strong hand firm on his back and Pat’s soft praise in his ear. He could feel himself losing the rhythm, could hear his breath coming in harsh pants, and he didn’t fight it, not like he usually did, struggling to last, to make it good for whatever girl he was with. Now, he just let the orgasm race through him, coming hard and groaning with it.

He shuddered, feeling utterly spent in the best way, body loose and limp. Pat dragged his hand up from Jonny’s back, tangling it in his hair for a moment before reaching down for Jonny’s collar. He snuck his fingers under it, and Jonny let himself drift again, pressed up against Pat, Pat’s fingers tight on his collar.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Chapter 12- ILY

Chapter Summary: Its Christmas…and we reach the end of a stressful year for Frank…but as he looks back he realises, it ain’t all been that bad.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talks of SMUT but nothing major

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 11

Frank looked up as Fliss walked into her parent’s kitchen and his mouth dropped open. She was dressed in a gorgeous long legged strapless jumpsuit along which the neckline was embellished with lace flowers which spread down the sheer sleeves. Her long hair was styled in loose curls and she’d done something to her make up that made her cheek bones stand out even more. Her eyelids were adorned with a deep green that shimmered and made her dark eyes pop and she had a clear gloss on her plump lips. Fuck, she looked stunning. But as he watched, he saw her face fall and she bit her lip.

“Is it…is it not ok?” She asked shyly “I can change…I mean…”

“Don’t you dare.” He said sternly, stepping forward, his hands falling to her hips “Honey, you look amazing.”

Her face lit up and she smiled at him, shyly “I wasn’t sure how posh to go or…”

“Lissy…” He chuckled “Stop it.”

“Sorry.” She wrinkled her nose as she stepped back slightly and looked him up and down, taking in his dark jeans, boots and light denim button down. “You look pretty good too Sailor.” she smiled, running her hands up his chest to his shoulder and he noticed then she was also wearing her Pandora. He smiled back, his eyes also spotting that her neck was bare and then had the perfect idea for a final Christmas Gift he had been struggling to come up with. With a soft smile he leaned down, taking in that she was slightly taller than usual thanks to her heels and he pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“Get a room…” Bill shot as he walked into the kitchen, Mary in tow.

“Bore off.” Fliss shot back, looking at her dad as he sent her a grin before he did a double take.

“Wow, you look cracking Titch.”

“Thanks” she smiled

“You ready to go?”

“Sure you don’t mind dropping us?” Frank turned to look at Bill “It’s no problem to get a cab.”

“It’s no bother at all, besides, I need to collect the Thai anyway.” Bill waved him off.

“You’re getting Thai?” Frank raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mary “Funny that just so happens to be your favourite…”

She shrugged “Verity asked what I wanted for dinner.”

Frank sighed and looked at Bill “You spoil her.”

Bill shrugged “And?”

Frank rolled his eyes a soft smile playing on his face. The way that Bill and Verity had welcomed Mary, and him for that matter, into their lives still amazed him. Whilst he and Fliss had only been officially together four weeks or so now, they’d opened their doors to him the day they had met pretty much back in August and he was eternally grateful. Mary got a sense of family, something he had wanted her to have all her life. It had even been brought up at the Court Hearing earlier that week where the paperwork had been signed awarding him legal guardianship status, the woman from the Child services department commenting in the court room that Mary had been gushing about Bill, Verity and Fliss, and seemed extremely settled.

Frank was simply relieved all of it was more or less over.

The last two weeks had been stressful as Greg had been handling the main discussions with the state for him and when they’d sat down one night to go over the notes for the settlement they had proposed, Greg told Frank that 2 major conditions would be set. Firstly that he found a home to allow Mary a room of her own and secondly that she was given access to a higher, more challenging form of education. After a bit of discussion with Mary, who had insisted she didn’t want to go to a posh school, Greg had done a little research into previous cases and come up with a suggestion that Child Services agreed with. They would provide a scholarship grant that would allow Mary to attend a number of University classes a few days a week and then her normal school the rest. It was a middle ground, giving Mary the mental stimulation she needed but also allowing her to be a normal kid. It was agreed she would return to normal school when term started in January and the arrangements would be made with the University to start there when their term picked up the middle of the same month. Frank had insisted that she wouldn’t be taking any exams or anything like that, just doing the work, keeping herself occupied. The judge had accepted the proposal, giving Frank 6 months to find alternative living arrangements, and had then awarded the Guardianship temporarily with the instruction it be awarded permanently upon a review in 6 months. So whilst not 100% complete, it was almost there, and Frank knew that as long as he did what they said, there would be no problem. The other good thing was nothing had legally been awarded to Evelyn, after she had remained completely absent from the proceedings. Which meant that if she did reach out, Frank would have total control over where and how often contact took place. Which suited him fine as he could ensure it was on Mary’s terms completely.

“Hey…you ok?” Fliss asked, rubbing his arm. He jerked round, realising he had been completely elsewhere and gave her a smile.

“Yeah, sorry, was just thinking.”

“Did it hurt?” Mary asked and Frank shot her a look as Fliss and Bill laughed as Mary left with the drink she had come in to the kitchen for.

Frank followed her into the living room as she perched on the large sofa next to Verity, the pair of them looking at something on the laptop.

“Behave.” Frank looked at Mary. “Go to bed when V and Bill tell you, no back chat or arguing…”

She saluted him and V looked up smiling. “Stop fussing Frank, she’s never any trouble.”

Frank nodded and then headed out to Bill’s Range Rover catching Fliss up.

“You do realise she’s gonna be up until midnight, pigging out on junk and watching movies right?” Fliss said as he reached her side, looping an arm round her waist.

“Yup.” Frank said “But she’s staying over there and not in the Annex, which means she’ll wake them up at stupid AM in the morning after no sleep and not us so I don’t much care…”

A little while later Frank guided her into Bongos Beach Bar and over to a booth at the far side. Fliss smiled as she recognised Greg, and Frank introduced her to his wife Zara, then his friend Jake and his fiancée Lisa. Finally she smiled at Simon who then excused himself heading off to meet his date at the door.

“Date?” Frank raised an eyebrow

“Yeah he’s been seeing her for about three weeks.” Zara supplied “He invited her tonight…”

“Huh, must be serious.” Frank mused and Jake looked at him.

“Could say the same about you.” He teased and Frank shoved him on the shoulder.

“Prick.”

Jake laughed and then raised his hand “They’re here now.”

Frank turned to see Simon making his way over towards them with a familiar brunette in tow.

Oh for fucks sake…

“Bonnie…” Fliss smiled at her as the woman stilled when she saw her and Frank.  

“You know each other?” Simon asked, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, errr…” Frank began, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this when Fliss spoke up.

“Bonnie is, was, still is I suppose, Mary’s teacher.”

Bonnie shot her a grateful look and Fliss simply smiled as Simon made a noise of comprehension.

"I should have twigged!” Simon smiled, as they all took a seat at the booth. Zara handed out a few glasses of prosecco from the bottle that sat on the table to Bonnie and Fliss who both thanked her, the men grabbing a beer from the bucket.

“Thank you.” Frank whispered into Fliss’ ear as she turned to look at him. “I didn’t know he was seeing her, or that she was gonna be here, I promise…”

Fliss frowned and shrugged “It’s fine.” she said, almost as if she was puzzled as to why he was apologising. The confusion on his face must have shown as she smiled and lay her hand on his knee. “Frank, I don’t have a problem with Bonnie. I still think it was a stupid thing to do but…” she shrugged.

He smiled at her and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You’re fucking amazing you know that?”

“Yep…” she popped the p, grinning at him as she took a drink from her champagne glass.

Fliss kept up with the conversation, but she soon realised that as nice as they were, Zara and Lisa were just not her type of people. With both their husbands having well paid jobs, as a lawyer and a bank manager, both were stay at home mums with a lot of money to spend and time on their hands. Plus they clearly spent a lot of time together so a lot of the chatter they made between themselves, leaving Fliss to simply listen.

At one point she glanced at Bonnie who was sat, nervously twisting her fingers together before she excused herself and headed over to the bathroom. Fliss gave it a few seconds before she too did the same, Frank moving so she could squeeze past him, hands falling to her hips as she went.

“Hey…” Fliss looked at Bonnie who was stood leaning on a sink. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I err, well, I don’t know about you but I feel a little out of place. I mean they’re nice enough but…“

"Kinda feels like we’re outsiders.” Fliss nodded finishing the sentence for her.

Bonnie snorted “I feel like they’re judging me a little. Like I’m a teacher…who has to work, and it’s not a great job…”

“Dude, I shovel shit for a living and Frank’s a grease monkey.” Fliss shot causing Bonnie to snort. “It’s not that at all, they’re just friends and we’re…well…”

 “Strangers…” Bonnie nodded.

“Exactly.” Fliss shrugged “Trust me, I’ve done the whole awkward social circle thing before, this…well, this is actually kinda nice in comparison. I met some real ass hats when I was with my ex. These guys are ok”

Bonnie smiled and then she grinned cheekily "Wanna go do tequila?”

“Fuck, yes.” Fliss nodded and they left the bathroom giggling, heading straight to the bar. Bonnie placed her order and slid a note over the bar as they both settled on a stool. Fliss glanced round to the booth where Frank was sat talking to the rest of his friends before she turned back to Bonnie who slid her a shot over. Without a word they both had their salt, downed the shot, then bit into the lemon, both grimacing and laughing as Fliss ordered another two and asked Bonnie what long drink she wanted. Turns out she was also a gin and tonic woman.

“I’m glad you and Frank ended up together.” Bonnie smiled at her. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Fliss grinned. “Kinda crept up on me a little, you know? I wasn’t looking for anything but...”

“I’m glad me and him didn’t ruin it.” Bonnie said gently “That entire night was a huge mistake…I could tell the day after he regretted it.”

Fliss shrugged “Well we all do dumb shit.”

“Say that again.” Bonnie mumbled as their second shots arrived along with their gin.

“You know when he told me he’d told you it was a mistake I went mad at him.” Fliss snorted “I mean, talk about a shitty thing to say.”

“Oh that’s not the half of it, he-…” Bonnie trailed off and shook her head as she took a drink of her gin. “Forget it, doesn’t matter.”

“What?” Fliss pressed.

“Nope.” Bonnie shook her head firmly.

“You can’t just say that and not tell me!“ Fliss whined as Bonnie downed her shot, before she sighed

“He called me by your name, twice.”

Fliss choked on her gin, her eyes wide “What, when you…”

Bonnie nodded.

“Ok, so I feel like I should be apologising…” Fliss snorted, “Not sure what for but…” Bonnie chuckled as Fliss shook her head and continued “How did you not rip his cock off…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad you didn’t but…”

Bonnie laughed loudly as Fliss sprinkled more salt onto her hand “It’s not a big deal, he was mortified when I told him.”

“So he should be…” Fliss shook her head, as she picked up her tequila.

She turned to look at Frank who was now looking round the bar, questioningly. He spotted her at the bar and raised an eyebrow and she met him with a look of her own. “I’m dating an ass hole.” she said, turning back to Bonnie “He’s cute though.”

There was a pause before they both laughed, and Bonnie gestured to the empty glasses. Fliss shrugged and Bonnie, with a grin, ordered another 2 shots.

****

 “So, how’s the new job Frank?” Simon looked at him and Frank smiled, taking a pull from his bottle.

“I don’t start until January.” he swallowed his drink, “But yeah, looking forward to it. Full time wage, benefits…what’s not to like?”

“And a boss.” Greg said, and Frank laughed.

“Well, be kinda nice not to have to think about where the next job is coming from.” he shrugged, “I still get to do what I enjoy but less stress…”

Greg, Simon and Jake all exchanged a look which Frank didn’t miss. He gave a sigh. “What?”

“Nothing…”  Jake smirked “Just watching you finally growing up is bringing a tear to my eye. I mean, you brought a girl to our Christmas gathering, the first one ever…in the history of the Circle of Truth holding Christmas gatherings…”

“Yeah, I imagine this is what it’s like waving your kid off to university.” Simon nodded.

Frank raised his middle finger at them all, causing them to laugh.

“We’re only joking.” Simon winked at him. “In all seriousness, it’s nice to see.”

Frank shook his head “You make it sounds like I’m some kind of utter disaster case…”

They all paused and once again looked at each other. “Oh fuck you.” Frank snorted as they all laughed again.

Anyone seen the ladies?” Greg looiked around suddenly.

“Oh, I think Zara and Lisa are on the dance floor…” Jake nodded.

 Frank glanced round the bar, looking and saw that indeed they were but there was no sign of Fliss. Or Bonnie for that matter. Fliss had gone to the bathroom a while back but surely it couldn’t be that long to pee, even if you were a girl.

“Oh, looks like our girls are getting on…” Simon jerked his head to the bar. Frank turned in his seat and glanced over and saw Fliss laugh at something Bonnie said, before she licked a line of salt off her hand, downed the shot, and bit into the lemon. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or a little weirded out at how cool Fliss was around the woman he’d almost ruined his chances with her over, but as he watched her cutting loose, talking to Bonnie, the two women locked in a very friendly exchange he felt his chest warm. Fliss had openly admitted to him not long back she was a little lonely, her own friends being in England and the ones she had in Boston, well, they’d not really been her friends, more his. He supposed it was nice to see her with someone like that, even if it as one of his one night conquests. As he watched Fliss spluttered on her drink and looked at Bonnie, another exchange was had before Fliss picked up her next tequila and looked at him. He raised a questioning eyebrow but all she did was smirk and turn back to Bonnie. With a slight shrug he turned to Simon.

“Wanna join em?”

Simon nodded “Yeah, why not.

They excused themselves from the booth and headed over. Fliss smiled as Frank slid an arm round her waist and dropped a kiss to her neck, before Simon grinned and nodded as he added another 2 tequilas to their order.

Several more shots and gins later Fliss was drunk. So was Frank. Which was the reason the two of them had ended up on the outside beach dancefloor, dancing to some random Christmas shit. It was also the reason Frank’s denim button down was now un-done revealing his white sleeveless which he had on underneath, giving Fliss a perfect view of that collar bone tattoo she loved so much. It hadn’t surprised her in the slightest when he had explained where the words were from, being a man of philosophy and all that. She also loved the reason behind his Taurus tattoo, it being Mary’s zodiac sign. Basically her sailor underneath all his bravado was a huge sentimental sap. A huge, sentimental sap whose hands were once again now cupping her ass as they swayed together to the music. Fliss had long given up reaching around to restore them to the bottom of her back and simply smirked to herself slightly as she looked round the dancefloor and out across the dark ocean

“Still not right.” she murmured.

“What?”

“This…” she made an elaborate gesture with her arm and hit a guy next to her. “Whoops…sorry.” she grimaced as Frank snorted, the guy simply shrugged and carried on his way. “I mean…no snow at Christmas…”

“Yeah but, you’re outside, on a Christmas dancefloor, on the beach” he shrugged “I mean it’s kinda cool…”

“Suppose…” she shrugged, and then she paused, and Frank watched as a gorgeous grin spread across her face whilst she cocked her head to the music. It had just morphed into Fairy Tale of New York and she let out a whoop “I fucking love this one!”

There was a loud cheer from someone and suddenly the two of them were squashed together as Simon and Bonnie appeared, followed by the rest of the group and they found themselves in a circle,  arms tangled around shoulders, the girls singing the girls part and the boys singing the boys part. At one point someone dressed as Santa muscled into the middle of the group, simply giving a loud cheer before he exited and moved elsewhere, causing Fliss to snort hysterically, hanging onto Frank’s arm as she did. As the song ended, everyone belting out the last line the group descended into giggles and Frank just watched his girl. Her cheeks were flushed, hair was slightly frizzier now thanks to the humid outdoor air and she was absolutely the wrong side of wasted but god did he love that woman.

Oh.

He loved her.

Frank Adler, one time self-proclaimed bachelor, king of the Friday night fucks was in love. When did that happen?

As he watched her lean in and say something to Greg who burst out laughing he realised he couldn’t pin point it. It had crept up on him, like a slow burn, a deep fire in the very core of his belly. And damned did that fire feel hot.

Frank reached for his girl and pulled her away from Greg. She stumbled slightly into his arms and she looked up at him, giggling a little and he cut her off with a deep kiss. And before he could stop himself, he blurted it out, right there in the middle of a temporary beach dancefloor

“I love you.”

 If anyone else in the group had heard they were tactful enough to all turn away, pretending not to, but there’s no way they could have missed Fliss when she pulled back, a look of shock on her face which morphed into a grin and she pointed at Frank

“Youuuu loooooveeee meeee!” she sang and Frank felt himself blush.

“Yeah, do you hafta announce it to the entire of South Pass?” his Boston accent dripped off his tongue.

“Youuuu loooooooveeee meeee!” she said again and he groaned, pulling her closer. She leaned up so she could whisper into his ear, and damned the touch of her lips against his ear aroused him far more than was appropriate for the middle of a public dance floor.

“Wanna know a secret Sailor?” she asked. He turned his head to look at her and she smirked at him “I love you too.”

Well fuck.

Despite the fact they were both trashed, they both knew this wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. Both felt it, both knew that whatever it was they had was different, special, a part of them now and Frank felt himself mimicking the stupid smile on her face. He leaned down to kiss her again, and her hands tangled into his hair, the feel of her delicate nails on his scalp sent hot pokers to his belly and his already half growing arousal was, well, aroused even more.

“And that’s even though you’re an asshole who calls someone else’s name during sex.” she pulled away. With a groan Frank hung his head as her arms linked around his neck, his hands locking behind her back.

“You know about that?” He asked with a little hiccup. “She told you?”

“Yup.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “And FYI you do that to me I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to Thor.”

“Harsh but fair.” Frank conceded after a short pause.  She grinned and leaned up to kiss him again before she pulled away.

“Can we go now ‘cause I’m kinda horny.”

Ok, so Drunk Fliss was another Fliss to add to his list of favourite Flisses. Along with Sassy, shy, stern, sleepy, just fucked, just woken up…basically all the Flisses

“Nope.” He teased “I’m good here.”

“Really?” She asked, pressing closer to him, tilting a little and he grunted as her hip bone pressed into his groin “Sure about that?”

“Yup.” He managed to squeak out.

“That must be a spanner in your pocket then. Or a screwdriver, or some other form of pointy tool…” She was hardly able to finish the sentence she was laughing that much.

“Yeah, those…damned pointy tools…” He shook his head as he leaned down to kiss her. It was sloppy, open mouthed, full of tongue and absolutely filthy and left the pair of them in a bit of a daze. Frank pulled away and looked around, taking a deep breath “Ok, we can go now.”

Somehow they made it home in one piece. It took Fliss three attempts to get the key in the lock, the pair of them giggling like a couple of school kids, before she finally managed it and Frank leaned over and pushed the door open. Fliss stumbled slightly and Frank caught her, laughing.

“Shhh” He said.

“What for?” She asked, kicking off her shoes.

He paused for a moment and then shrugged “Actually I don’t know…”

“Idiot…” She sniggered, pushing his undone shirt down his arms before pulling at the bottom of his sleeveless underneath. He moved so she could pull it over his head and as her fingers started to undo the button at the top of his jeans he reached round and gently found the zipper on her jumpsuit, sliding it down, his fingers gently skimming her back as they backed to the couch. Fliss fell over the arm with a thud, Frank following, before the momentum tripped him and he rolled onto the floor, pulling her with him, landing with a thud on his back. She fell on top of him, her elbow catching him in the ribs and he gave a loud huff, before she laughed and leaned over kissing him. His hands tangled into her hair, keeping her head angled perfectly, the kiss searing, leaving them breathless. Fliss pulled back and he brushed her hair back with both his hands, smiling softly at her.

“I meant what I said you know.” He looked at her

“Remind me again what that was.” She teased.

“I…” he leaned up and pecked her lips “love…” another peck “you.”

“Tell me when you’re sober.” she sassed back and gave a squeal as he whipped her over so she was on her back on the rug by the coffee table, framed between his strong arms and legs.

“In vino veritas.” He quipped and she propped herself up on her elbows, the front of her jumpsuit fell forward slightly and Frank blatantly stole a look down it at her lacy strapless bra, giving a groan.

 “Yeah, and in vino a load of non-sensitas too…” She grinned and he gave a snort, as he dipped his head.

“Shut up.” he mumbled, his lips pressing onto hers again.

 *****

 Frank groaned, blinking against the light that was streaming in through the crack in the curtains. Jesus Christ his head hurt. Rolling over he was met with a face full of hair and he blew it out of the way, smoothing down Fliss’s wild locks which were splayed all over the pillow. Gently sliding an arm under her neck he dropped the other one round her bare waist and pulled her into him, her back pressing to his chest as he snuggled close, screwing his eyes closed against the painful daylight.

“What year is it?” Fliss groaned and Frank chuckled slightly.

“Feeling rough, baby?”

“Rough?” She croaked “I feel like I have a smurf in my head with a pick axe. This is all your fault.”

“My fault?“

“Yes you let me drink tequila with Bonnie.”

“Ok, first off I didn’t know you were doing that until I saw you at the bar…”

“Yeah, and then you and Simon joined in…

“…and second off, you’re a grown ass woman. You make your own decisions.”

She groaned again and then stilled “Fuck, we had sex last night…”

“Wow.” Frank laughed. “Way to ruin my pride, Sweetheart…”

“No I mean…” she shuffled onto her back and looked at him. “Did we…use…“

Franks eyes went wide. "Oh, erm…”

No, no they hadn’t… fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, come on, surely, we’ll be fine right?” he asked, “I mean, one time…what are the chances of…”

“No, it’s not that I’m worried about.” she shook her head “I’m on the pill…I just..” she trailed of

Frank propped himself up on his elbow as he cottoned on to what she was saying “Are you being serious?” he snorted.

“Well I don’t know where you’ve been!” she shrugged indignantly “well, ok, maybe I know some of where you’ve been, but…”

Frank snorted and shook his head “What do you take me for?”

“An ex ho?” she shot back immediately.

He fell onto his back laughing “If you must know I’ve never had unprotected sex with a one night stand in my life. And the other week I went and got tested, just for you. And I’m clean so…”

“That’s so romantic. ” she grinned at him.

“Well I try.” he raised an eyebrow.

“Still love me?” she quipped and he turned his head to look at her.

“Fraid so.”

“Too bad.” she teased, shuffling over to him “Coz that means you’re stuck with me…”

“Oh no…” he said sarcastically as he turned onto his side, glancing down at her bare breasts “How will I ever cope?”

“Sure you’ll think of a way.” she arched an eyebrow before she suddenly went green. “Oh shit…” she mumbled, before she shot out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Frank listened to her barfing and snorted a laugh before he swung himself out of bed, glad to find his boxers on the floor by his feet. Although where the rest of his clothes where he had no idea. He knocked on the bathroom door.

“You ok?”

He heard the toilet flush and she emerged, wrapped in a robe and looked at him. “I’m never drinking tequila again. Ever.”

Frank had to hand it to his girl, despite her raging hangover she still managed to teach four classes of kids that day, and made it through to nine that evening before she completely crashed on the sofa, falling asleep as the three of them sat in the apartment living room watching The Grinch, Mary’s choice. As the film finished at little after ten, Mary, who was lounging on Frank’s lap looked over to where Fliss lay, her head resting on the other arm of the couch, her feet nestled under his thigh, and nudged Frank.

“I know.” He smiled softly “Leave her be.”

Mary grinned and reached up to run her hand through his beard “you love Fliss.”

He looked at her for a second, eyebrow raised “What makes you say that?”

 “Roberta.” she shrugged.

Frank snorted. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

“Did you tell her yet?” Mary looked at him.

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“That she loves me too.”

Mary grinned “Lissy and Frank, sitting in a tree…”

He rolled his eyes as she chanted off the rest of the ridiculous rhyme and then looked at her. “You finished?”

“Yup.”

“Good, bed time.”

“Awww Frank….”

“No arguments. Bill told me what time you stayed up till last night.”

“Grass.” she narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, you better believe it. Go on, wash your face, clean your teeth.”

“Shower?”

“Quit stalling Stack you had one when you got back from the stables…”

With a groan she pushed herself off his knee and he stood up as she headed into the bathroom. He pulled a fresh pair of pyjamas out of the clean pile of laundry he needed to sort that was on the chair at the back of the room and lay them on his bed before he moved over and knelt down by Fliss’ head.

“Honey,” he said gently, pushing her hair back off her face, “Lissy…“

She made a noise as she wrinkled her nose, and he smiled as she blinked and looked at him.

“Oh, shit. Sorry…” she yawned as she realised she’d fallen asleep. “What time is it?“

“Not too late.” He smiled “Just about to put Mary to bed. You staying here or…”

“Yeah if that’s okay?”

“Course it is.” he smiled and dropped a kiss to her lips before she sat up running her hand through her hair as she blinked, yawning again.

“Fuck I’m so tired.” She stood up, stretched and then smiled as Mary came back into the room. The girl shot Frank a filthy look and stalked past him into his room. “Ok, wow…”

“She doesn’t want to go to bed.” he shrugged, “moody little madam.”

Fliss laughed as she headed into the bathroom. Frank sat down on the sofa and a little while later, Mary emerged and shot straight for her bed.

“Can I at least read?” she looked at him.

“Ten minutes, tops, whilst I do the dishes…”

She grinned and he turned off the TV and headed into the kitchen, clearing away the remains of their takeaway, stowing the left overs in the fridge for lunch the day after.

In the bathroom Fliss was busy groaning to herself as she realised she’d come on. She knew she was due, but still, this was a pain in the ass. Sorting herself out, she washed her hands and walked into the kitchen. Frank looked up and raised his eyebrow, misinterpreting the look on her face.

“You been sick again?” he asked.

“No… ” She shook her head as she bit her lip. “Look, Frankie, I think I’m go home…”

“Why?” He frowned.

“I errr…” She flushed “I forgot…I…” she trailed off and his frown deepened as her hand moved instinctively to her stomach before a look of realisation crossed his features.

“Oh…” He nodded. “Well, ok, if you’re more comfortable going home then that’s up to you.” He dropped a kiss to her head and she looked at him, confusion flooding her brain.

“You don’t want me to go?”

“Why would I want you to go?” he frowned.

“Because…” she looked at him, unable to voice what she was getting at. Another memory flooded her mind, one of John screaming at her for the sheets being marked, she was jerked back to the here and now as Frank closed the distance between them, tipping her head up to look at him.

“Lissy, talk to me…”

“Sorry, I err…” she rubbed at her head “He used to make me sleep in a separate room.”

“Are you for real?” Frank blurted out, and she could see the anger flooding his system. “Seriously?”

She visibly recoiled a little at his tone and Frank cursed himself as she looked at him, eyes wide as she began to apologise.

 “Hey.” He said gently, reaching out to her. “Stop. You’ve nothing to be sorry for I shouldn’t have shouted I just….” He took a deep breath.

“That’s fucked up.”

She looked back up at him, her eyes now had a fierce spark. “You think that’s fucked up? When he was trying to get me pregnant, every month he’d stop me taking pain killers when I came on. Told me it was my own fault for not managing to conceive.”

“Jesus Liss…” Frank shook his head, as she shrugged, her head turning to the side. “Baby…”

“Don’t” she shrugged “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Ok.” he nodded. “Look. If you wanna stay then it’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do.”

“I do.” She nodded, smiling softly.

“Good.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead before he moved away from her and reached over, filling the kettle.

“What are you doing?” She asked from behind him.

“Making you a tea.” He shrugged “Used to help Diane…”

“Thanks…” she smiled after a short pause.

“You got everything you need or you need to go the store?”

“I’m good. Ex Girl Scout, always prepared…”

Frank gave a laugh.

“Think I might take another shower though, if that’s…”

“You don’t need to ask.” He looked at her. “You’re my girlfried. I want you to feel like you’re at home when you’re here.”

At that she gave him a soft smile as she moved over and wrapped her arms round his waist, nuzzling into his chest. He gently rubbed at her back, before she leaned up, kissed him and headed out. The kettle boiled and he leaned on the side, dropping his head slightly. What kind of fucked up asshole did that to his own wife? To a wife he was supposed to love and protect no less. It broke his heart to think anyone could be so callous, so mentally and physically abusive to someone so soft, so gentle, so damned amazing….he looked up as he saw her making her way into the bathroom, bag in hand and she smiled at him, shutting the door.

Once he’d made them both a hot drink and grabbed the Advil, he made his way through to his room, placing one mug on the bedside table on the side he slept on and then another on the sill behind Fliss’ side and leaned on the doorframe, looking at Mary. She was still reading.

“Please just the end of this chapter.” she held up the Harry Potter book. Frank took a deep breath, then decided fuck it. She’d fall asleep at some point, there was no school.

“Lights off after that. I’ll be out to check.” he instructed as he dropped a kiss to her head. “Night Stack.”

“Night Frank.”

Back in his room he stripped off, tossing his t-shirt into the hamper before folding his jeans and dropping them on his dresser. He settled on the bed, stretching his legs out as he kicked the duvet down and flicked on the small TV, flipping through the channels looking for something to watch. Grinning when he found an episode of Family Guy, he turned the volume down low and had been watching for about five minutes when he heard Fliss talking to Mary who mentioned something about the book before he heard her bid her good night, and as Fliss opened the door he saw Mary’s light flip off.

He smiled at his girl who had her hair pulled back in a braid and was dressed in a pair of bed shorts and a tight camisole type top, her shoulders bare, long legs stretched as she dropped onto the bed besides him.

“You okay?” he asked, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as she reached round for the drink. She paused as she saw the Advil and then picked it up, smiling at him as she turned to face him.

“Yeah.” she assured him as he kissed the bridge of her nose. She tossed down two pain killers and sipped her drink, her legs bent in front of her as they sat in a comfortable silence, watching the TV, both laughing softly at the show. Eventually she placed the mug down and snuggled closer to him. He reached down for the duvet and pulled it up round their legs as her head lay on his chest, his arm falling round her, fingers lightly brushing down the back of her neck, shoulder and then up again. It was an action he knew she found comforting, and he was proven right as little over fifteen minutes later he looked down to find her fast asleep.

With a soft smile he turned off the TV and gently moved her so that they were both lay flat and she gave a soft hum of contentment and snuggled into him closer. With a yawn he pressed a kiss to her head and closed his eyes.

The rest of the two weeks remaining to Christmas was spent in a whirl of tree-decorating, paper-chain making, shopping and eating more crap than Fliss had thought humanly possible. Steve and his wife Sian arrived on the 22nd and Verity cooked a huge family dinner where Mary was introduced to their twin boys. Frank watched her with interest, they were both her age and he was pleasantly surprised to see she actually seemed to mingle with them quite well. Steve was also noticeably warmer towards him too, which was a relief, and Frank was more than happy to take him out for a beer with Bill one evening whilst the women stayed at home and wrapped presents whilst drinking copious amounts of champagne. A Gallagher tradition Frank was informed, a tradition he eagerly told Bill he could fully get on board with, especially when Fliss had offered to wrap Mary’s presents as well.

 By the time Christmas Eve rolled round Frank noticed that Fliss was ridiculously excited and was happy to admit it was because she was looking forward to spending it with him and her family. When Verity had invited him to join them for Christmas dinner he’d been reticent to accept at first, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to put her out. When she’d told him she’d be more offended if he refused he’d relented and made the mistake of telling Mary who hadn’t let the subject drop for the last two weeks. Fliss joined them in their traditional Christmas Eve celebration with Roberta, where they exchanged gifts, Roberta made up with the chunky silver bangle Fliss had spotted in a shop and the photo frame which Mary had made one evening with Bill by glue-gunning sea shells onto a plain wooden one she had gotten from Target. Once they were done, they packed Fliss’ jeep up and headed off to the annex. After watching “Elf” in the cinema room with the rest of the family,  wearing her new Christmas Pyjamas (another Gallagher tradition that all the kids in the family got new ones to sleep in on Christmas Eve)  they three of them headed back over to the annex and Mary shot up to bed with no fuss at all, leaving Frank and Fliss to enjoy the rest of their evening which they spent making out like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch until they’d ended up fucking like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch too.

Christmas morning Fliss cracked open an eye and grinned as she sat up, listening to Mary who was calling from the spare room, before she started to sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas, which was punctuated by barks from Thor. Besides her Frank gave a groan and she nudged him.

“Wake up scrooge.”

“Fuck off.” he mumbled.

She laughed and nudged him again before she climbed out of bed, wearing his T-shirt and pulled a pair of denim shorts on “I reckon you got about two minutes before Mary barrels through the door…”

"Fucking Christmas…” Frank scoffed, but Fliss caught the smile on his face as he swung his legs out of bed and stretched, the muscles on his back rippling as he did so. Standing up Fliss watched as he moved, his ass looking pretty damned fine in his boxers as he headed to the bathroom, banging on the spare room door as he did. Fliss heard it fly open and a few minutes later Mary came shooting into her room and bounced on the bed, a half-eaten chocolate Santa in her hand which she had unwrapped from her Stocking. Thor followed, taking up position on the foot of the bed and Fliss hugged Mary, grinning. She loved Christmas, she always had done as a kid. Granted, it hadn’t always been fun with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but the last two since leaving him she’d gotten that childish excitement back, and today was no exception.

“So, I just stand here do I?” Frank asked as he leaned on the doorway, gesturing to the now full bed. Fliss grinned at him and shrugged.

“We’re not staying here.” Mary looked at him “We got presents to open downstairs…”

“Hmmm not sure we do.” Frank teased as he pulled a shirt from his bag in the corner of the room “I mean, does Santa know you’re here and not at the apartment?”

Mary rolled her eyes “I haven’t believed in Santa since I was five, Frank.”

“What?” Fliss looked horrified “I still believe and I’m like thirty three!” Mary gave her a scathing look. Fliss shrugged. “What can I say, I believe in Christmas magic”

“I did…” Mary shrugged “Until he didn’t bring me a puppy.”

“He doesn’t do live animals.” Fliss reasoned.

“Or a piano.”

“Too big to fit on the sleigh.”

“Or an algebra book I wanted.”

“Yeah, why the hell would he bring you maths books?” Fliss snorted “That’s school work.”

“I like it. "she shrugged, before she shoved the rest of her chocolate in her mouth and jumped up, bouncing on the bed. "Come on! Get up!”

Thor looked up giving a huff as Frank told her to stop bouncing. She flopped down and looked at him, folding her arms and Fliss laughed.

“Ok, let’s go!”

The two of them raced down the stairs, Frank following as Mary burst into the living room to see her presents piled by the sofa, and her eyes immediately went to the large wooden box which wasn’t wrapped that had her name painted on the side, and a large painted white pony on the top, resembling Monty. She moved to it and opened it, giving a squeal as she began to pull out the various grooming products that Fliss had bought her to make her own little pony box.  As Mary began to hastily rip the wrapping paper off the rest of the pile of gifts, Frank moved to the tree and pulled out two boxes. One large, one small.

“Merry Christmas baby girl.” he said, dropping a kiss to Fliss mouth. She grinned and sat down on the couch, opening the little box first. Inside was a silver necklace a pendant in the shape of a Daisy which Fliss beamed at.

“I love daisies!” she smiled at him “They remind me of home.”

“I know.” he smiled as she looked at it again before she moved to the next box. This was the one Frank was excited about. They’d cost him a small fortune but, turns out when you don’t spend every Friday night in Ferg’s you actually saved a fair bit of dough. Who knew?

“Oh my God…” she whispered as she cleared the paper away from the contents and glanced down at the tan Cowboy boots. She took a deep breath as she picked one out of the box to examine the detailing on the leather before her eyes widened as she saw her name ‘Lissy’ stitched on the top.

“Do you like them?” he asked softly, although he could tell from her reaction that was a stupid question.

“Frankie…” she looked at him with tears in her eyes, God this man really did listen to every damned word she said.  “I can’t…” she leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Thank you…”

He smiled as she slipped them on and stood up, giving Mary a twirl. There was something about her wearing them along with denim shorts that Frank wasn’t ashamed to admit he found a little arousing.

Frank laughed when he got his presents from Fliss, a new Paul Smith shirt, a Red Sox Cap and a new Samsung Smartphone as she informed him his Nokia had gone out of fashion in 2009. Which was before Mary was born, she pointed out. But it was the gifts they both got from Mary that surprised and reduced them to tears of laughter.

Fliss held up the cowboy hat, grinning from ear to ear as she slipped it on whilst Frank held the white Navy Captain’s hat up and shook his head. “Where on Earth did you get these?” he asked, laughing.

“Bill helped me.” Mary shrugged, looking up from where she was now jamming a pink Ariat baseball cap which she had just unwrapped on her head.

“Remind me to thank him later!” Frank rolled his eyes as Fliss snatched the hat from him and stuck it on his head.

“Mary, get in…” she patted Frank’s knee and Mary hopped up, as Fliss held her phone away from them, snapping a selfie of the three of them. Frank watched her as she smiled, inspecting it and he had to admit it was a pretty good snap. All of them were smiling, all wearing some form of head gear, and for the first time in as long time he realised he was enjoying Christmas morning because HE was having a good time, not just Mary. To him it normally meant a fuck load of expense and the fact another year was rapidly drawing to a close. But he was more than happy to draw a close on 2017. Not simply to shut the door on a mentally draining court fight, but also because he was looking forward to the future. He was starting a new job, would be in the market for a new home and moving through all of those changes with his girl by his side excited him instead of filling him with dread.

As Mary slid off his knee to examine another present he turned to Fliss who grinned, knocking his hat off his head.

“Merry Christmas cowgirl.” he grinned,

She smiled, leaning over to kiss him “Merry Christmas Sailor!”

**** One Shot- Whamaggeddon Chapter 13

[sanstropfremir]

it’s the episode 8 review!!! how many episodes is this show supposed to even be?

the stages from the episode feel like such a grab bag.... i still don’t understand why they didn’t put all the skill stages together, and then did the normal two episodes of the third round. i guess it makes sense that they didn’t want to have six stages in one episode and then three in the other two, but eh. 

feeling kinda average on these as a whole, there’s a lot of good elements going on here but probably because of my own preferences (i don’t listen to ballads or blackpink) none of them really hit all the buttons. hopefully this will be a shorter review because i'm only going to do a quick rundown of the vocal stages; i dont really have that much to say about them because they are (intentionally) not very stage picture focused. i'll do the normal stage breakdowns for the other two though, even though i won’t rank them because we still need to see the other four!

vocal stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

not much to say here other than wow, that’s RED. glad to see some more specific use of spotlighting and i always love when they light things on fire. i do wish they had fill lit with a brighter amber so we could actually get a bit more detail on their faces, especially because there’s six of them. i appreciated the simple blocking and only using one of the ‘stages,’ this stage didn’t need to be anything complicated and it wasn’t. i don’t love spinning camera shots because they make me a bit ill, and i'll forgive the constant cutting because it's a vocal stage and there isn’t any other real movement that we should be paying attention to. not my favourite of the two, i found it visually a bit too repetitive and complex at the same time. always love a crushed velvet suit though, so bonus points for that.

atz + skz + btob

i was braced for the worst and i dont know what kind of miracle happened but it was listenable! like i said, not a ballad fan but i could listen to eunkwang all day. i love a good plinth for a ballad stage, they’re one of my favourite devices in kpop design and i especially love it with a good groundlevel fog. glad they kept it black and white for the first half of the stage, it was in line with the blooming flower projections, and it made a very clear colour arc. they kept the visuals clean and simple with very little blocking at all, a very smart choice for this stage. not sure why they decided it would be the chanel time stage, which i disapprove of because i don’t like chanel, but i do love eunkwang’s shirt with the cameo buttons and the massive turnback cuffs, very 17th and also 19th century. i know they never do it because they dont read on stage normally but yes absolutely more thin chain pendant chokers on men, thank you! i also liked that there was emphasis on a more traditional lighting scheme, there weren't any crazy concert effects, just some good directional beam spotlights and the rear stacks in the climax. 

third round stages

ikon

costume

the first look for them is definitely my fabourite of theirs so far. there’s enough variation in the jackets that the base layer of tshirt and jeans don’t look too repetitive. and i do love a good statement jacket. my favourite is probably donghyuk’s because i'm a sucker for fringe always.

i don’t like the backup dancers costumes, but given the way i’ve reacted to every other all black outfit for this entire show i don’t think anyone was surprised about that. these ones particularly irk me because they’re very matte; there's pretty much no texture or pattern differentials to define the shape of the limb, which makes them disappear when theyre all grouped together (mostly on the women). i think they probably were intending to make a statement/emphasis on the hands because of the sleeve cutoff point, but there were so many arm movements that were just totally missed because the costumes were just black voids. most egregious parts are here, with the female dancers up center. i can barely tell what the movements are unless i’m paying specific attention to them because there's so many black shapes. maybe it was the point for it to be an indiscernable writhing mass, but it wasn’t my vibe.

don’t love this styling on lisa. i hate peeptoe shoes in general but peeptoe boots are the worst offenders. they make you look like you have duck feet, no matter who you are. especially with a flat cutout like that. a universally unflattering shoe, and i would know, i worked in a shoe store for two years. this whole look is just pg-13 rihanna cfda awards 2014 and really nobody should try to run up against rihanna.

also i have to mention this because it’s actually really bothering me, but lisa’s backup dancers are serving very allgemeine ss looks and i do not like it. generally when we see ‘military’ uniforms in kpop theyre usually modelled off older styles (pre wwii) of western uniforms that usually aren’t in circulation, and they’re usually non-matching and embellished in ways that are deliberately not military. i know logically that it's a budget constraint+they’re backup dancers+current trend thing but the clean lines with only button detailing and the all black and that specific harness shape? it hit my brain the wrong way. i mean, technically those uniforms are designer because hugo boss did them, but the uh..... girlboss move didn’t land for me.

this is my PERSONAL OPINION please for the love of all that is holy do not come yelling at me about this. it’s all under a cut, you chose to read the post.

set

very glad to see some busy kitschy sets! this is a massive build, since there’s essentially three full sets here: the temple, the jungle, and the first tiny room. and all of them are very heavily decorated. 

the starting room is just five walls on casters (wheels), that have been set into place with the cameraman and ikon inside at the start, and then once they exit the walls can be easily struck and rolled off set. simple, smart, and convenient!

i missed it the first couple times around but glitching out the projections in the temple for a split second was a neat little trick.

the silver and polygonal nature of the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a bit disconnected from the gold and the aesthetic of the rest of the stage for me. the difference between the original room set and the jungle tracks, but the cat head isnt able to make the same leap for me. i'm also not a fan of mixing metals so maybe that’s why.

the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a fun physical transitional device; i'm a big fan of tunnels and small transitory spaces like that and if they’re well dressed like this one they do so much for establishing place and mood.

i'm very sure i’ve seen this style of polygonal animal head with laser eyes before....i cannot for the life of me remember where or for what. i know wang yibo did a panther stage for sdc3 that had a human formation panther with green laser eyes, i wonder if i'm just crossing wires.

OH nevermind it’s because it looks like the witcher medallion. wires were definitely crossed.

lighting

using purple/teal lighting for the jungle was a smart choice because purple is the direct compliment to the gold and also is much more flattering on humans than green. green is one of the colours that humans can see the most variations in, so when something is green when it's not supposed to be (like human skin), we register that very quickly and associate it with unease and sickness. you know how old fluorescent lights have that greenish tinge that kinda makes you feel ill? it's your cone cells and your brain recognizing that you’re looking at things that are not supposed to be green.

very clean colour arc, i love to see it.

sound

it’s.....fine? i don’t listen to blackpink and have no opinions on their music other than it's not my type. i dont really know what the thematic connection to the visuals is, which is not strictly necessary in a lot of cases, but i don’t particularly care for the conflation of ‘savage’ and a (presumably) precolonial religion that’s assembled from stereotypes of real colonized cultures. you can come at me about how ‘it's not that deep’ all you want but i am here specifically doing an in depth analysis, and i gotta point it out. i'm not here to pass judgement on you if you didn’t realize or don’t care or whatever, i'm just saying that it's important to consume content with a critical eye. what you do with that information is your own personal choice, but you should be aware of it at least. 

staging

they took a big risk eating popcorn right before singing, and we definitely got some residual mouth noises of them trying to clean out their teeth. eating on stage is difficult in general because you have to make sure it's not going to dry out the performers mouths, because they dont have access to water and it takes WAY longer to chew and swallow something than you would expect. there’s a LOT of testing that goes into making stage food and guaranteed it’s not made out of what it looks like or what its supposed to be; i worked on a production of amadeus were we did literal weeks of testing amalgams of different desserts to make sure that salieri could actually eat the ones onstage without totally drying him out, because fun fact about that show, salieri doesnt leave stage like, at all, so there was no way to get him water. poor bloke.

i thought the blocking of this was really smart. the long take from the ‘normal’ room and transition into the jungle was super slick, even if that weird circle the camera did while pointed up at the ceiling was unnecessary and pointless.

bobby’s ‘acting’ was extremely funny and that’s the only way people are allowed to act surprised now. edvard munsch scream style only.

the pacing is a bit off and this time it wasn’t mnet’s editing that fucked it up. as fun as it is to have a feature, clearly she wasn’t allowed within proximity of the rest of them for covid or other yg related reasons, but it made for some extremely long transitions, especially the one out of her verse. it kills the momentum of the stage in that beat, even though they manage to pick it up after.

this is a very simple little narrative arc that’s easy to follow and doesn’t require any extra explaining. which is exactly the kind of arc that groups should be doing at this stage in the game. this is a good formic step up for ikon!

i thought the turning off of the monitor at the end was fun and a good callback to them watching the videos at the beginning of the stage. a nice clean way to make it circular.

skz

costume

FINALLY something different on the skz boys! these were mostly fun eboy looks for them, and i like it on the basis that it's not the same as the last set of costumes.

bang chan out there with his thigh OUT and a (fake) bridge piercing? LOVE to see it. great work.

(copy-paste every thing i’ve said about backup dancers wearing all black)

the backup dancers that were dressed as bystanders/extras were great! they should have kept that with all of them because it would have given a little more shape to the choreography and establishing what function the backup dancers were supposed to have.

set

that is meant to be a giant rice cooker on stage, right? i think so because it's a god’s menu mashup? if that's not a rice cooker i have NO idea what its supposed to be

there’s only two large setpieces here, which was a smart way to go. i LOVE the subway car doubling as the truck, even if the truck itself makes no narrative sense. what a fun way to double the use of a single big piece. you’ll be able to see the way it moves in the full cam but it splits down the centre and there entrance doors at the back with attached stairs that bang chan and the dancers use to climb up.

lighting

not a whole lot happening here. i like the cool white leds in the subway car and the contrast with the more warm tones of the outside, which is good atmospheric establishment, but i can't discern a visible arc. 

not a fan of these projections; they’re in line with what we’ve seen from skz so far, which is: extremely literal. i dont think they’re that distracting, but they’re not to my personal taste. they really should have kept the comic panel theme that they did for changbin’s first verse, because that was inventive and fun to watch! and a great atmospheric indicator! i would love to see a bit more experimental projection use but it's hard when they don’t have a lot of time to build these stages and the lighting team is definitely working remotely.

sound

i love that they made the choice to do some actual talking, it’s a good gimmick and it works for the deadpool/comic book/fourth wall break theme, but australian accents take me the fuck out i am so sorry i cannot listen to either felix or bang chan speak english without laughing uncontrollably. 

i don’t like this arrangement but i'm not surprised about that, given my predilections. i'm also tired of skz shouting STRAY KIDS in every performance they do. i know on music shows it's probably more relevant and yea producers tags are a thing but we’ve been watching this show for nearly two months at this point. we know who you are, you can stop yelling. be more creative with it!

staging

my biggest issue with this stage is that it doesn’t have a payoff. there is an arc here: they’re stealing the truck, but why are they stealing the truck? who are they stealing it from? who are they fighting against? it's kind of important in a stage where the theme is stealing and fighting someone that you tell us who that is. in both of ateez’s previous stages were they were both stealing (rhythm ta) and fighting (wonderland), they made sure to show us who the villain was. there needs to be tension for a big blowup climax to actually pay off. whether it be against a a balloon arm kraken or a fascist government. this stage could have reached that next step if they’d just done a little bit more exposition. 

there were a lot of fun choreo moments here, and this is probably my favourite choreo of theirs so far. i thought the whole first bit in the subway car was excellent and a very fun play on those viral videos that we used to see roll around every so often of dancers doing routines in subway cars.

did it need the guns? not in the slightest. more on this point later. i could talk more about weapons and weight here, but i’ve done that several times already.

like with the tbz game of thrones stages, theyre relying a little too much on the audience's preconceptions of the source material in order to carry the theme. the guns are there because deadpool likes guns, but they don’t actually use the guns for anything? the most we get of the stealing segment is felix and the safe, which admittedly is a great bit with him leaping over and under the ‘laser’ lines (theyre likely led strips). because comic books are by nature procedural and deeply tied to narrative, it's unsatisfying when there’s no tension and no payoff.

HOW did we manage to get two stages that are blackpink covers with remote/tv static gimmick and durags? i know the slot machine of kpop tropes is not very big but surely the probability of hitting triple sevens on this one was pretty low. i’m pretty meh on both of these stages overall. skz was unsatisfying but i loved the choreo in the subway bit so that bumped it up a little ahead of ikon’s in my personal preferences, but i'm reserving my actual rankings for next week. assuming we get the other four stages next week and they dont do something stupid and only show two. which they very well might. i’ve stopped trying to understand why mnet does things the way that they do. 

as always the ask box is open, drop your comments/questions/personal opinions, i love to hear ‘em! but don’t be rude just because some of this is touchier subject material.

[achlysmiseria]

Chapter 1: =My First Day at a New School=

Being in a relationship with a serial killer kinda sucks. But before that, maybe I should start by introducing myself or something. I don’t know. There’s nothing special about me. My name is Perseus Alexander Moore. I’m an eighteen-year-old guy in his twelfth year and I’m distinctive in most groups but I’m not famous or rich or smart. I’m just those guys you normally see in school except I don’t exactly go as ‘normal’ since my hair is styled in an afro which makes it easy to distinguish in a group of people. This is the start of how I made the greatest mistake of my life.

Today I will be going to a new school. It had to be arranged since I moved into my older brother's place. If you’re wondering why, a big incident took place, which I have to live with my whole life but we’ll talk about that later. After changing into clothes for the day, I crept out of my room and went downstairs and the first thing I came upon was the sweet smell of pancakes and bacon filling my nose. My nose scrunched up which made me stop but not because of the smell, but because of the person right in front of me.

Eric Ulysses Moore, my big brother. He’s a successful hematologist oncologist here in this small city of Asheville, North Carolina. He’s got the same curly brown locks as mine except it’s not long or styled informally. We both look somewhat alike but since he’s blessed with our dad’s genes, who is a tall man, he has much darker skin than me and I was told he was taller than me when he was my age.

While my brother cooked breakfast and I’m standing at the kitchen door, I felt like I should just tiptoe out of there but he turned and saw me. “Good morning, Perseus,” he greeted with a smile. “Had a good night’s sleep?”

“Yeah,” I blandly replied. “I also have to go. I might be running late.”

“School doesn’t start at seven-thirty. Eat something first.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said but of course, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He served a plate and pointed his eyes to the vacant chair, gesturing I should sit down.

“Look,” my voice was leveled. “I don’t want to deal with you right now. I have to get going.”

“Perseus,” he called back. I ignored him and ran out the door. I brought out my earphones and plugged them in my ears, momentarily escaping from this hell called reality. I grabbed my skateboard and I skated through the busy streets.

Normally, my mom would kill me if I did this. My mind being preoccupied with the music playing, words popping up in my head for lyrics, guitar chords I could possibly use for a song I’m writing while I pass busy streets, small comments in my head about the places I pass will definitely make her want my head.

The trip would have been really quick if I hadn't had to go through so many huge groups of people hurrying to their destinations and most of them are too oblivious to notice what’s around them.

Once I reached the gates of the school, I was somehow —what’s the appropriate word— disappointed.

Right in front of me could have been a grand building but the gate alone is covered in graffiti and the paint is tearing off. The building itself looks like it’s about to collapse, given a few years or even less. You might even think it’s haunted. Students filed into the entrance and it gave me second thoughts. What if I just skipped school today? I thought it would be nice. I could just go home and go back to sleep but then, I have to deal with Eric. And to think of the possible scenarios when I enter these gates: probably new friends, or more jerks who are looking for trouble. I swallowed the anxiousness and the excitement growing in me and I walked in.

Entering the building, I felt like I was a kitten that trespassed a lions’ den. In the hallway, everybody turned their head towards me and I tried my best to stay passive.

Luckily, when I got enrolled here, they gave me my schedule and the room numbers so I didn’t have to ask around. I reached the room for my first class, which is Conservatory of Music. Then I noticed there was this note taped on the glass window of the door. It said: Class will be in the Music Room. I raised an eyebrow. Music Room, I thought. I looked down at the paper I had in my hand and scanned it. It didn’t have any directions for the room. I buried the annoyance that’s building up in me and looked around just in case no one could see how stupid I look and with my luck, I found three guys walking in my direction. The guy on the right had copper-red hair, freckles across his cheeks and nose, and a mischievous grin on his face and is probably one of the people I will never trust my life with when handling matches or sharp objects. The one on the middle had emo/scene slick black hair and it was long on one side so it hid his face. He looked reserved at first glance since he had his head lowered and even if his friend on the right had his arm locked on his neck, he didn’t complain. The one on the left took me aback. I was looking at a much younger clone of Brandon Routh when he played Clark Kent or Superman. He’s this tall guy with glasses, shiny black hair swept to the side, and a jacket. His facial features are almost perfect and I don’t think his face is familiar to acne or a single pimple. The guy on the right saw me. His hazel-green eyes shone and his grin widened. “Hey,” he waved. “You must be new.”

“I am,” I had to keep a straight face. The redhead kept smiling but when he faced the note on the door, he frowned. “Damn,” he snapped his fingers. He faced his friend and yelled to them, “Upstairs, guys. Prof switched rooms.”

“I told you he would,” said the guy with the glasses. The ginger raised his hands in defeat but still cracked a smirk. “At least we found this guy,” he gestured his hands to me. “If we didn’t think to check this room, he would be late than we already were.”

“Yeah, yeah shut up, Michael.” The other two faced me and studied me from head to toe. Superman said, “You were lucky. This campus is huge.”

“That’s what she said,” the guy named Michael snorted, which earned him a smack on the back of the head, “You’re so mean, Xavier.”

“And you’re being an idiot,” replied Xavier, who had a more Asian look than everybody else I've seen.

I felt inept. I’m standing in the middle of a playful conversation of strangers I just met and they didn’t really mind me there. Or how late we were.

“Hey,” I spoke up. “Aren’t we supposed to get to class?” The three of them stared at each other then realized it with a start. Some of them cursed and then we ran to the Music Room.

Fortunately, we reached class before the professor arrived. The place was huge and I think we were more than fifty students here. We were going to be seated on the floor and our bags were piled onto each other at the back. But what’s enticing are the instruments in front of us. I was tempted to grab a guitar and run but the professor finally entered the room. Before I could look around for a place to sit, someone already grabbed my hand and pulled me down.

“Sorry,” said Clark Kent. “I didn’t get to introduce myself. I’m Nicholas Taylor but call me Nick.”

“I’m Perseus Moore,” we held out each other’s hand and shook it. Behind Nick, Michael’s head popped out and he beamed. “I’m Michael Johnathan Carter. Most people call me Michael or Mike. You pick. I don’t care.” We shook hands and I faced their other friend.

“I’m Xavier Hernandez,” he said politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Perseus.”

“Yeah,” I tried to smile. They seem nice, I thought to myself. We started talking in our small circle and then Nick asked, “Do you play any instruments?”

“I play guitar,” I replied. Michael’s grin got even wider if that was possible and then he scooted near me. “What songs can you play?”

“Erm,” I moved a bit farther from him but I was saved when the professor got our attention. He’s a guy that looked like he was supposed to go to a Rock concert but got lost and ended up in a classroom full of teenagers. Instead of the usual teachers’ uniform, he wore this black band shirt of Korn, had a few piercings on his lips and eyebrow, plus tattoos all over his arms. “Good morning class,” he greeted. I thought we would respond with the habitual bland greeting but the place roared with excitement. Everyone was just yelling at the top of their lungs so the teacher had to silence us. “After a summer break, you all are still very loud.”

“We love you, Sir Ramirez!” Michael yelled and it just ignited another round of cheers. Again, we were silenced but I’m surprised one finger from the teacher made everyone quiet.

“I am also glad to see you all again. Most of you have moved up which is great,” Sir Ramirez congratulated us. “I was also informed that we have a new student joining us. Where is he?”

I just sat there, not planning to do anything for anyone to catch my attention but Michael grabbed my arm and raised it for me. Quickly, I yanked it away and glared at him. “Thank you, Michael. Now, please come up front.” The first thing I thought was, What is this? Grade school? But I obeyed and walked over to his side. “Introduce yourself.”

“Hi,” I started, I could feel my palms starting to sweat. “I’m Perseus Moore.”

“Do you play any instruments, Perseus, or are you just here to learn a thing or two?”

“I can play.”

“Awesome,” Sir Ramirez clapped his hands. Everyone started muttering to themselves and I didn’t like it at first until the prof asked, “What instrument do you play?”

“Guitar, sir.”

He smiled and walked over to the corner where the pile of goodies are and picked up a maroon Gibson SG then handed it over. My eyes widened at the guitar and I looked up at him for confirmation. “Give us a show, Perseus.” He signaled me to start and with barely any practice for the past month, I played Thunderstruck by AC/DC. The students went wild and I think everyone on this floor, and possibly the one under and the one above us, could hear them singing the song.

Sir Ramirez raised his hand to stop me in the middle of the song and I did. Everyone had this look on their faces which I can’t comprehend and my heart was pounding against my ribs. “So,” the professor starts. There wasn’t that much emotion shown on his face and I wasn’t comfortable with that. “I can’t tell you how much I’m impressed.”

“You are?” I blinked. “I mean, thank you, sir.”

“Of course I am. It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone with this much grit and how much the whole class enjoyed it.” Then everyone started screaming like their favorite basketball team won. Makes me wonder how their voices haven’t cracked yet. I would never last that long. When they settled, Sir Ramirez clapped his hands and everyone joined him. With an awkward smile and my pulse beating in my throat, I bowed. Nick and the others cheered and they were joined by everyone else. When I got back to my seat, class started and at that point, I happily thought that this was going so well so far. Boy, was I wrong.

After three classes, it was finally our Lunch Break. I hated the other classes since the teachers after Conservatory were snobby, nosy, and irritating as hell. They lose their cool easily. I’m only grateful that Nick, Michael, and Xavier will be in the same classes as me since they’re the only people I know.

While we were walking to the cafeteria, Nick said, “You were great back there.”

“Thanks,” I tried to sound more confident than I am.

“Wanna join our band?” Michael smiled. “We’re missing a lead guitarist. And you don’t seem to be part of anything yet.”

“You’re recruiting me?”

“Of course,” he placed his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been talking about it. You in? Please say you are.”

“Stop that, Michael,” Xavier spoke up. “You know we have to talk to Morpheus first about this.”

“Who?” I turned to him.

“He’s our band leader and frontman,” Nick replied. “The guy’s awesome and super chill. He would love to meet you. But we need to know if you want to join us as well or otherwise, he’d think that we forced you to.” Then I heard Michael comment, “What is this? A cult?” Xavier flicked his fingers in the middle of his friend’s forehead and it made a sound, probably shaking his skull. Watching them alone, being whoever they are, saying whatever they want and their closeness to each other makes me think about their offer. I faced Nick who had an expectant look on his face. “I’m in.”

We reached the school’s outdoor covered court. It’s after passing the cafeteria. I’m telling you now that this is the only place that’s pleasant in the whole school. Instead of seeing trash littered everywhere, the court was clean and there were trees aligned on the side of it. Under one of the trees, there was this Blond holding an acoustic guitar. Michael ran to him and gave him a tackle-hug.

“What the hell, Michael?” He exclaimed as the others just laughed out loud. They sat up again and the redhead tugged on the guy’s sleeve. “We found a lead guitarist, Morph.”

“Hi?” I waved. The Morpheus guy studied me with his sky blue eyes and frowned a bit. He stood up and I realized he’s way taller than Nick which only made me anxious about my height. Gee, thanks. He circled me, like a lion studying its helpless prey. Morpheus turned to his bandmates and asked why I should be in the band. They explained it to him with enthusiasm while I just stood there not even getting why he’s asking them instead of me.

“So,” the tall blond turned to me. “I see that you got yourself some fans now.” Looking over his shoulder, Nick and Michael had huge grins on their faces, excitedly waving their hands while Xavier is also smiling but not like the other two. My eyes went back to Morpheus and I shrugged. “I never meant to. They just asked me to play.”

“Can you perform in front of something bigger than a bunch of students in one room?”

I could’ve answered him with an eager ‘Yes’ but in the pit of my stomach, my anxiety starts poking me. Morpheus patiently waited for my answer while I thought, A bigger crowd? That would be awesome but if I’m not good enough… Then what? I mentally slapped myself in the face. I looked up to him and said, “Even if it doesn’t take me anywhere, I can.”

Morpheus gave that a thought which lasted longer than I wanted to. My friends had their fingers crossed and I quietly hoped I would get accepted. Morpheus’ lips slowly curled into a smile and happily said, “You’re in.” Then they started clapping their hands. Michael locked his arm around my neck and yelled, “Finally! Someone decent enough to play for our band.” That comment got him a smack on the head and he just laughed it off. Xavier ruffled my curly hair and spread his arms out. “Welcome aboard Erebos.”

“Erebos?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” Nick said. “A friend named the band. She said that it’s the name of the primordial darkness in Greek mythology or something like that.”

Just then, their faces lightened up. I followed wherever they were looking at and found something I wasn’t expecting. Walking towards us was a girl with straight hair as dark as midnight, autumn tanned skin and she had a gray jacket wrapped around her waist since the school uniform for girls had short skirts. Michael ran over to her and held his hand out for a high-five. “Hey, Babycakes!”

Babycakes?

She scowled and pointed a finger at him. “How many times do I have to tell you to never call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Michael tries to imitate her British accent. “Did I touch a nerve?”

“You always do.” She crossed her arms and her eyes found me. I flinched, probably because I’ve been staring at her for too long, looking stupid, and got caught. Nick saved me though. He placed a hand on my shoulder and told the girl, “I’d like to introduce you to our new lead guitarist, Perseus Moore!”

“Perseus?” She raised an eyebrow. She studied me from head to toe and as I watched her, I noticed her eyes were gray. They remind me of fierce storm clouds or bones when reduced to ash. My heart started thundering against my chest when her eyes met my golden brown ones. She then looked up at my hair and asked, “Is that natural or are you just looking for attention?”

“What?”

“Your hair. And your eyes? You’re not wearing contacts, are you?”

“I could say the same to you,” I commented. A shadow of irritation passed over her face and then I realized my mistake. Morpheus cleared his throat and got her attention. “You’re not going to tear his face off, are you, Kass?” Xavier spoke up. She faced him and cracked a smirk, leaving me wanting to melt into a puddle for some reason. “I don’t have a reason to,” she faced me and held out her hand. “I’m Kassandra Cyrillus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I shook her hand. “I could say the same thing.”

“Not when you really know what you’re talking to,” I heard her mutter. That took me aback. What is she talking about? I faced Nick who looked somewhat nervous when she said that and when I looked back at Kassandra, she still had the same expression except I recognized the look on her face. Like, she had the face of someone who got away with murder which is stupid because that’s impossible. Or was it?

“Now, now, Kassandra,” Michael interrupted my train of thought. “Stop scaring away the new guy.” She gave him a look which made him raise his hands in defeat and then she faced me. “You all have the same subjects later on, right?”

“Yeah,” we replied in unison. She didn’t give any reaction but handed Morph a bag. “I’ll see you all later then,” she looks over her shoulder a bit and walks away. When she was finally out of our sight, I turned to my bandmates who were looking at the bag. When they opened it, it was filled with snacks and a big pack of potato chips. They all had an evil grin on their faces and they closed the bag again. “It’s cool how she could smuggle some junk food here in school.”

“She must’ve paid the school guard to let her in,” Nick joked. My eyebrows arched. The image of Kassandra burned in the back of my mind and I can’t help notice how she looked so innocently malevolent. Two words I never thought would fit together. Morpheus saw how confused I was and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You look lost.”

“I don’t understand how things go around here,” I said with genuine honesty. “Is it just me or is Kassandra plotting something evil?” They looked at each other which is concerning for me like it’s a tough subject they don’t want to tackle. “Did I say something wrong?”

Nick snaked his arm around my shoulder. “Nah, dude. It’s just that, Kassandra had this reputation here at school, so it tends to make her judge and mistrust people she meets at first glance. Be a little patient with her. She’s actually a great person to be with,” he smiled. With that, the school bell rings for our upcoming classes. We walked to our classroom and went on with our day.

Finally, school was about to end. I just had to end this last class: Literature. My bandmates were left behind since they said they needed to talk to our Math teacher. When I reached the door of the classroom, I expected a bunch of students sticking their noses in books but instead, I found most of my classmates were off their seats, just being chaotic as usual.

“You’ll get used to it,” said a familiar voice behind me. When I turned around, I found Kassandra. She had a black backpack slung on one shoulder and the strap had a metal pin of a badly drawn smiley face with X’s for eyes and it had its tongue stuck out, the logo of the Grunge band Nirvana. “Nice pin,” I complimented. “Somehow matches your personality.”

“Don’t flatter me, Perseus,” her voice laced with bitter sarcasm. “And if you want small talk, I suggest we go inside and sit down. Unless you want to block the door, I’m not joining you.”

I stepped aside and let her in first and muttered, “Sorry.” Following her to the back of the classroom, I sat on the vacant chair beside her. There were more vacant seats other than this but I just felt like I needed to sit next to somebody I at least know if I get called. Now and then, I would steal glances of her just to see her doodling on her notebook. Well, I just think she’s doodling. The first thing that caught my attention was that she’s writing in Greek? Second thing I noticed were the symbols Aδης. What do they mean? Like I know. I wanted to ask her but everyone started to make a commotion when Michael entered the room.

Kassandra let out a soft laugh when she saw her friend being flirty with the girls who were head over heels for him. “Always a tosser,” she muttered and closed her notebook. “Then these girls would fall for every banter. Can you believe that?”

I realized she was talking to me so I answered, “Er, yeah. They’re being a little too extra.”

“Michael’s always extra,” she shrugs. I then noticed her lips were curled up into a small smile and I kind of felt good about that. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I looked in the other direction. When they were seated, the professor entered the room. He’s a pudgy man with a scowl on his face and has more hair on his chin than on his head. I could hear a lot of the students around us snickering and then they all burst out laughing when the teacher sat on his seat. Confused, he tries standing up and then realizes the problem. “You insufferable brats!” He yelled at us. When he tried to walk out of his desk, everyone was laughing except for me and Kassandra since the chair was stuck to the man’s rear-end. I mean, it’s literally glued to his butt. Honestly, it’s an old trick in the book but I think getting someone to do it right in front of you makes it funny. He started yelling things I don’t think would get him a promotion, or probably let him keep his job. Nonetheless, we continued class while the professor was seated, and ever so often, you will hear giggles when he tries standing up.

“Now,” he pats a stack of papers on his desk. “This will be your homework for two weeks. Read it carefully and I don’t want anyone submitting anything stupid, understood?”

Everyone jeered and groaned. Kassandra and I stayed silent then I glanced at her just to find her reading a book under her desk. As the papers were being distributed, the professor said, “You all will be partnered” —everyone cheered— “by the person beside you.” The excitement died and it just made him smile smugly. The school bell rang for dismissal and everyone quickly raced to the door.

“Wait,” I looked at my seatmate. “Who am I partnered with?” We stared at each other. It seemed like time suddenly stopped for some reason. Our eyes locked and I don’t know how, but I could see this shadow behind her gray orbs. What could it be? A weird gut feeling tells me that this person in front of me was someone… someone who you shouldn’t get on their bad side or you’re screwed. Kassandra smiled and answered, “I suppose you’re stuck with me, Phrixus.”

[its-kierce-sherman]

[What happened the day the DTI boys swapped personalities]

((I had 5 hours to do whatever so I did this. Warning it’s kinda longish))

So, Quinn was behind the idea of swaping personalities yesterday and was supported by Callum so it became a thing (this is how anything starts) They all drew names. Kierce got Francis. Francis got Quinn. Quinn got Kierce. Callum got Kent. Kent got Callum.

The rules to the game were simple: - They had to dress up as the person they got - They had to stay in character at all times - Everyone contributes $50 for the prize money - The last person to get eliminated gets the prize money - if there are two or more people standing the eliminated have to vote for who did the best and the winner gets the prize money

Mission 1: Dress the part.

Kierce: - Wore what he normal did around people - stole an eyepatch from Francis' collection - styled his hair to cover one of his eyes - Money spent: $0

Francis: - wore a ball cap - a bright yellow T-Shirt that said, "spreading happy :)" - blue jeans with splashes of different colors of paint - tied his hair back and got rid of the eyepatch - everyone liked that (but mostly Callum)

Quinn: - avoided formal clothes at all costs - raided Kierce's closet - wore a million accessories - shirt with obscure design on it - black jeans - yoiked Kierce's favorite jacket - Kierce did not like that

Callum: - sportswear - looked good - none were surprised - posted so many pictures of himself - his fans liked that

Kent: - Callum had to help him - $80 black dress shirt - $50 white designer pants - $65 grey Oxford boots - $70 ring - Total: $265.46 - Callum paid for all of it (:>) - Kent looked really good tho so it was all worth it

"They're group of good-looking men but something very wrong with all them." - Kierce's grandma 2016

The Tumblr stuff happened while they were waiting for everyone to get ready and start the day. Kierce will never say "Idiot baka, ever again.

So earlier on everyone picked out an activity they all liked doing. So Callum picked first.

Mission 2: Have a fashion show in Callum’s room.

Kierce: - said it was stupid - didn't do it - was a judge - 0's for everyone - took pictures of everyone - and laughed bitterly - enjoyed watching Francis suffer

Francis: - hated every minute of it - wanted to die - was stuck as the dj - fought the urge to play Last Resort - fought the urge to yell at Kent's stupidity

Quinn: - was a judge too - used big words - that he didn't know the meaning to - it was very adorable - "Sir your score is a 5+4." - beams with pride at his cleverness.

Callum: - lived and yet died - had to wear simple or mismatched outfits - oh the horror - still looked good

Kent: - wanted to try wearing high heels - failed - he tripped so badly - and so many times - but he really wanted to master walking in high heels - Kent pls stop you can't

Next thing!

Mission 3: Play at the park with kids. Quinn picked it after bungee jumping was shot down by Francis (who is afraid of heights.)

Kierce: - said it was stupid - did it anyway - Kei loves kids so dang much - he had so much fun telling them stories and helping the small ones on the monkey bars - said the kids made him do it - frowned on the outside - smiled on the inside - a tiny girl hugged him and he nearly hugged her back - he just patted her of the head awkwardly

Francis: - played on the merry-go-round - he spun it so fast and the kids loved him for it - he was smiling and laughing with all of them - fell off once and just laughed it off - everyone recorded it - Francis should act his age more often - he snuck his camera out every couple of minutes to take pictures of everyone - he mostly took pictures of Callum

Quinn: - told kids to stay in school and never do drugs - kept randomly saying things like, "1+1=2" - "Hey kid. Do you want some smarties? It's $20 a piece" - the kids found it funny - Kierce did not - pretended to take a nap on the bench

Callum: - played basketball with some boys - used to play basketball and hadn't done it in forever - everyone appreciated that - "How are you so tall mister?" "I have no idea I just," waves hands around, "grew one day." - his Kent impression was dead on - Kent went :O "I did that too!"

Kent: - played basketball with Callum and kids - he forgot he was Callum and couldn't help it - he was eliminated - but everyone expected that - Kent will and can only be Kent

Next!!!!

Mission 4: Play volleyball. Twas Kent’s idea so they went to the gym that the volleyball club use. The club members were there as usual and they played too.

Kierce: - Said it was stupid - Did it anyway - Had fun - Got hit in the face with the ball many times

Francis: - He was not a fan - He did jump around tho - and smiled no matter how fake it was - so he was safe - showed amazing team spirit - Lysander dropped by because he heard there was drama going on within the jock circle - happiness levels went up by millions - and smiled brighter than the sun - Ly was so confused but he liked seeing his bf happy as did everyone

(Side note: Francis is not single.)

Quinn: - You could tell he wanted to jump around and just be an energy ball - because that's what he did - he was eliminated - but he just shrugged it off and laughed - had too much fun missing the ball every time he tried to spike it

Callum: - CEO of getting hit in the face. - usually he'd just dodge them - but he was Kent now - he couldn't afford to break character - His nails suffered and he was in pain but he pushed through - had fun? - got hit in the stomach once - nearly died

Kent: - just an normal day with the bois - kept forgetting that most of the boys has never played volleyball before - he was the one behind all the times Callum and Kierce got hit in the face

Mission 5: Read books. Kierce's activity was originally doing a job one of the teachers had hired him to do, which was clean out one of the storage rooms. No one but Kierce liked that. So he had to pick again. 

Kierce: - complained about such a stupid activity - read, "How to be British 101," and, "The Tea for Me Might Be the Tea for You” - enjoyed it

Francis: - enjoyed the peace and quiet - until he realized he was suppose to be disturbing it - looked over at Kierce - who looked back at him with a smug smile and then went back to his book - the urge to strangle was strong with this one - in the end he just bounced around looking at books - talked loudly about whatever - got kicked out of the library - danced all the way out - wanted to die

Quinn: - knew he was eliminated but was having too much fun to stop - randomly shushed people - found a math book - it was big so he assume it was complicated - it was and he understood nothing but he felt smart - "Quinn what are you reading?" "Advanced Engineering Mathematics; the 7th edition." - when he got tired of it he found a book with math puns - math puns for the rest of the day

Callum: - avoided the fashion magazines - wouldn't even go anywhere near it - instead he just walked around all bored like - bounced a ball off the wall - accidentally hit himself in the face with the ball - blacked out for a minute - when he finally came to - Kent: "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." - Callum: "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell. You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." - Quinn: "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." - Kierce: "Shut up back there!" - Francis recorded the whole thing

Kent: - was bored - kept pulling books off the shelves and putting them back where they didn't belong - danced out with Francis

The last mission: Go to Francis' favorite tea shop.

Kierce: - first thing he did was order Francis' favorite tea - "Hmm, this doesn't taste as good as it usually does." - got assaulted by napkins

Francis: - assaulted Kierce with napkins - tried to run away - Kierce threw a fork at him - he died from shock - eliminated - ordered his favorite tea - proceeded to go on a rant about how stupid the day has been - chewed out Kent for being stupid and told him to never try wearing high heels beacuse he'll only hurt himself - told Quinn that offering candy to kids was a bad idea even if it is a joke because adults can take it the wrong way and that his math puns were the worst - told Callum that he should play basketball more often - glared at Kierce

Quinn: - makes a math pun - but it's not just any math pun - it's the worst math pun - had countless hot chocolates because Callum was paying - tried to make Francis and Kierce apologize to each other - Francis: "No, I'm not apologizing. He said something stupid and deserved everything he got." - Kierce: "I'm not apologizing to someone as stupid as him that's just stupid." - Quinn: :( - Kent: "Could you two get along FOR FIVE MINUTES!"

Callum: - smiled at all the workers and told them they were all doing a great job - gave them all a $50 tip for their hard work - they were so busy dying they didn't notice Kierce and Francis fighting - the DTI boys avoided getting kicked out again - sadly that wasn't a very Kent thing to do - he did got eliminated - ordered an latte - there was a fancy heart in it - Cal took a picture - then he asked for the cafe worker who did it to thank them - "Thank you, you’re really talented with latte art. Next time I visit will you teach me how to do that?"

Kent: - he had a great time - had a smoothie or two - laughed at Quinn's bad math puns when no one else did

To end the day the five friends went to a karaoke and had a great time singing and talking about the events of the day. Francis showed off the pictures he took that day and promised that he'd print copies of the best ones and give them to everyone. Kierce won $250 which is always a good way to end the day. Callum swore to never play volleyball and posted on Instagram about the day. Quinn has a great time and learned many things, like how many math puns there are, something that is always very important to know. Kent was just happy to spend time with his friends and play volleyball. It was a wonderful day.

[aquarianlights]

Just popping in to tell you that you are gorgeous as fuck

Oh goodness. Hahaha. Wow, thank you so much! I wish that were true in my eyes. I have accepted the fact that other people can somehow think I am attractive, but I just can’t wrap my head around why someone would think that or how someone could think that about me. In my eyes, I am the most hideous, fat person on this planet. I have come to terms with the fact that I am ugly, like I mentioned in my post on that one picture, but I cannot accept the fact that I am ridiculously overweight and fucking obese. I hate myself so damn much because of my weight. I even avoid going out in public because of my weight and how ugly I look and feel. I can fool people with my selfies, though. With the right angle, the right lighting, the right filter, and the right camera. . .I can look pretty attractive. But it’s all an illusion. That’s why selfies are great. They can make your fantasy of being a beautiful, slim, flawless, model-worthy person a reality. But if you met me in real life? You’d run the other direction. Haha. I’m really hard on the eyes. My pictures are eye candy, I will admit, but my real life image? Very hard to look at. I have a very fat, obese, short, stubby, ugly body. . .and my face is too round and chubby and I have no neck or chin to speak of (which I want to get cosmetic surgery for when I can afford it) coz I inherited that from my fucking mother. I have a major, odd overbite on my top row of teeth because instead of sucking my thumb as a little boy, I sucked my two fingers (ring and middle), which caused my teeth to bulge out, one a little more than the other. Hoping to get that fixed with invisalign as soon as I can afford it. I have always had super clear skin, but lately my picking problem has become unbearable and I am ripping the skin off of different places and now I have all these red marks on my face and permanent scarring in some places because of that issue I have. And concealer doesn’t cover it that well no matter how much I put on. And then the pigmentation of my skin is disgusting because I am a pasty, white, lobster-person. My skin turns red at even the slightest bit of heat. And I have a pigmentation issue on my right cheek bone where there is a circle that is always red that concealer won’t cover. My eyes are way way WAY too big for my face (as everyone can probably tell). I’m certain people probably make fun of me for how big my eyes are behind my back. My hair is beautiful in colour, but ugly in style. My nose is huge and always red at the tip because, again, I am a white, pasty, lobster person. (Seriously, why did I have to be born white? UGH) My eyebrows are way way way too thick and they make me look perpetually angry. I have a bad case of resting bitch face and bored-to-tears face even when I’m excited about something. My smile is the most hideous and scary thing you will ever see; especially if it’s a teeth-showing smile. I have a baby face so I get mistaken for a teenager/high schooler quite often which is absolutely insulting. I have even had someone tell me my actual ID was a fake ID because they couldn’t fathom the fact that I was born in ‘92. I constantly have such dark circles under my eyes that it looks like I have two black eyes due to my insomnia and my sleeping pills not working anymore. My chin protrudes and it’s ugly. My lips are fucking HUGE and ugh god they’re disgusting. My teeth are somewhat yellow-ish because of all the tea and coffee I drink and because of the lack of money to go to the dentist (my insurance does not cover dental and never has...white teeth are a product of wealth, not how well you take care of them). My breath always smells horrible because I am anorexic and anorexia makes you have bad breath (still not sure why. I just know it’s the cause.). No matter how much I brush or how many times I rinse with mouth wash or how many mints I pop throughout the day, I’m pretty sure my breath still smells and I don’t know how anyone can stand to be around me. My face is pretty expressionless and I don’t make good expressions which makes me miserable and boring to other people. My laugh is fucking obnoxious because I laugh really loudly and it’s more of a maniacal cackle than anything. . .unless I’m giggling, then I sound like a fucking seal. If I don’t shave between my eyebrows for like 6 months or more, I get a small, practically invisible unibrow which is totally noticeable to me but normally not to other people. My nose is constantly wet and dripping because I have such bad allergies. My eyes are fucking bright blueish-grey, sometimes fully grey, so it’s super easy to tell when I’m on drugs because you can see my pupils turn to pinpoints or, if I’m on something trippy, you can see them dilate like crazy. Which, as someone who does drugs every day of his life, that’s an absolute curse, mate. I have TMJ so my jaw goes click click click every time I open and close it. I have a SUPER TINY mouth and a very thick tongue. Which is an awful combination. I can’t decide whether my forehead is too big or too small. And the creases of my eyes are practically right on top of my eyes because of how huge my eyes are. And glasses are always way too big for my face because I have such a tiny head. My nonexistent neck is super thick and makes me seem like I have a bazillion chins no matter how skinny I get. When I was down in the 90 lb range, the fact that I don’t have a neck/chin really fucking got to me because even at that weight, it still looks like I have a million chins. I can’t escape it without surgery to physically move my throat back where it is for normal people. Which, I’m not even sure if that can be done, but I will pay a plastic surgeon my whole goddamn life savings to fix that for me. I just don’t have the money right now and won’t anytime soon because I’m sure it will cost thousands upon thousands of dollars up-front. Uhhhh.....what else.....well, that’s just my head. From my neck up. You don’t even wanna get me started on my body. I could go on for hours because of how fat I am.

But. . .it’s really, really, REALLY nice to get messages like these. I never know if people are just mocking me and lying to me and laughing at my expense when I respond with gratitude, kinda like a “HAHA He’s so gullible!!!” sorta thing. That’s what I usually suspect is going on when people compliment me like this.

But I’ve been trying REALLY REALLY REALLY hard to just accept the compliments as truth and believe that people are being honest with me and aren’t just making fun of me and being sarcastic. So. . .if you’re serious, which I am going to force myself to assume you are, I really fucking appreciate this. Like....SO much. I have nonexistent self esteem. Like...zero. Maybe even negative numbers for my self esteem. I doubt you will ever encounter a person with lower self esteem than me. So to have people boost my ego with things like this means the world to me. It makes me feel like...maybe...maybe I can go out in public. Because I don’t go out in public because of how ugly and fat I am. I dread going out in public because of that. When I was like 105lbs or less, I was so fucking happy and I felt like I could go out in public whenever I wanted! It was incredible!!! Having thin privilege is.......wow, it’s life changing. I don’t think people with thin privilege even realize how great they have it. Honestly, being skinny would take away my depression, cure my anxiety, and all of my self destructive habits and suicidal ideations would just...fade away! They did when I was 105 and less. So anyone who says that weight does not control your happiness is a fucking liar when it comes to me, myself, and I. Because weight does, indeed, control my happiness, personally. While I’m fat and obese like I have been most of my life, it causes so much depression and anxiety and makes me want to kill myself solely because I am fat. I can deal with being ugly like I am, but I cannot deal with being fat like this. I can’t handle it.

And I can’t exercise at all because it could give me a heart attack and kill me due to my costochondritis. So I can’t even do that to help lose weight. So I’m just.....constantly starving myself and munching on dried mango slices when I’m hungry and drinking lots and lots of water and nothing else. A lot of people say that starving yourself will make you gain weight and it actually does in majority of people, but for some reason. . .starvation works on my body. Starvation is the one thing that will make me lose weight. And it’s really my only option at this point. Yeah, I could go into hypoglycemic shock or a hypoglycemic coma, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take if I could just be skinny.

Like I said. . .I have come to terms with the fact I am ugly. That is never going to change no matter what I do. But my weight? That is something I can change if I keep up the starvation and don’t break. Which, I have gotten very good at over the years since I was a little kid. The drugs help curb my appetite, too. The reason I started doing certain drugs was actually to curb my appetite. Nothing else. I didn’t want them to get high or for fun or anything like that---I just wanted them so I could lose weight. And they sure are helping. I fucking love drugs.

I would do anything to be skinny and have thin privilege. Literally anything. I will die trying if I have to. I would rather die an early death while skinny than live a long life while fat.

Ahhhh, I got so off topic there. I’m sorry. Weight and my appearance has just been prevalent in my mind since I came across those three old pictures I just reblogged from my selfie tag. So I just. . .had to vent and get that out there. I’m so sorry. But venting really helps me. A lot. So. . .saying all that really just helped me calm down and stop crying and beating myself up over all of it. So. . .even if you don’t read all this, if someone does read it, thank you. Thank you for listening.

And, nonny. . .thank you so much for your wonderful compliment. You just made me feel SO damn good about myself. And it really means a lot to me because I have this scratch on the skin above my upper lip on the right side that I have been clawing at for hours now and I have opened up a whole damn hole in my skin and now it’s turned into a massive red spot of ugliness and it’s probably not going to heal for a long time no matter how much of this prescription healing gel I put on it. The gel is like a super version of neosporin. My mom had it when she had her mastectomy for breast cancer. They took fat from her stomach to make her a new breast and she had some crazy, sick scar from that. Huge scar. So they gave her this gel that you put on the incision site to make it heal faster. And it really works. So she gave the remainder of it to me and I’m putting it on that area like every two seconds, but then I get the urge to claw at it and I do and then it just starts bleeding and gets bigger and worse and worse. And I just can’t seem to stop myself. If there is an area of my skin that isn’t perfectly smooth and flat, I will claw at it until it’s bleeding and until I feel that it’s flat or concave that will heal into flatness. Can’t even tell you how many circular shaped scars I have from ripping off little swollen bite areas from insects. Two circular dots are on my face and it makes me feel so fucking ugly. And now I have this huge red mark on my upper lip and it’s killing me to look at myself because I can’t do anything to hide it and I basically never want to go out in public again. . .my picking problem has made me 50x uglier than I already am and it REALLY gets to me. I physically can’t go out in public because of my looks and weight without a fuckton of valium or ativan in me.

So. . .hearing this from a stranger. . .some anonymous. . .it means the world to me. It means that someone, somewhere out there in this world, could walk past me and think “Wow. He’s so handsome.” or something like that. It gives me hope that maybe one day.....ONE DAY......someone might actually think that in real life when I don’t have all the right angles, filters, right lighting, right pose, etc etc etc...If someone were to say this to me in person when I was in my natural environment without all the selfie gimmicks? I think I would legitimately pass out. Haha. I’ve never been the gorgeous one. . .I hate going out with most of my friends sometimes because they are a million, bazillion times hotter than me.

I’m hoping the HRT will change how I look and how my body is. I hope it will slim me down and strengthen my facial structure. The doctor said it probably won’t have any affect on my face, but I have seen FTM and MTF people who have before and after pictures and their faces look super different. So I’m just fucking praying to all the omnipotent, noncorporeal, fate-controlling aliens in the universe that it does exactly that. I would kill to look like anyone other than me.

I have never seen an ugly fat person before. The only ugly fat person I have seen is me. Fat and skinny are both beautiful. And fat is not a derogatory term. People seem to assume that just because I think I’M fat and that makes me ugly, I somehow think that they must be ugly due to their weight, too??? And that just doesn’t make any fucking sense to me when people come to me with the “Well if you xxx pounds and I’m xxx pounds, then what does that make me in your eyes? A fucking obese monster?” LIKE NO, FAM. IT DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY. The only fucking way I think about fat being ugly is on ME. PERSONALLY. I am the only one that my logic about weight applies to. And people just don’t seem to understand that and it pisses me off. I’m anorexic and I have bad body dysmorphia. So, I mean, fucking SUE ME FOR EXPRESSING MY OPINION OF MYSELF AND MYSELF ALONE. Just because I think I’m fat at 128 lbs does not mean I think someone at twice my size or four times my size is ugly due to their weight. I am attracted to all sorts of people. And Callie in Grey’s Anatomy is the exact body type I am attracted to. She’s not conventionally skinny like most people. . .yet, that is the number one body I am attracted to. I’m not usually attracted to skinny people because they make me out-of-my-mind angry and vengeful because I want to BE them and because they usually take their thin privilege for granted or aren’t even aware that they have it and MAN that pisses me off. They usually have no idea how good they have it. Ugh, fuck. I have experienced what it was like to have thin privilege. I was practically fucking worshiped. Even though I lost all my weight for very unhealthy reasons and I was the most unhealthy I had ever been in my life and I was the sickest I’ve ever been physically, everyone would still see me for the first time in a while and be like “OH MY GOD. KILLIAN. LOOK AT HOW SKINNY YOU ARE. CONGRATULATIONS. YOU LOOK GORGEOUS OH MY GOD!!!” and they would just continuously praise me for being skinny. I would get asked out on dates and invited to all these high end exclusive parties simply because I was skinny. And guys and some girls were absolutely all over me. I remember walking into a gas station to ask for direction and there was a line of guys waiting for the cash register and when I walked in, they all turned around and did a double take and literally scanned me up and down with their eyes and they all got this kind of devious smirk and one of them even put his hand around my waist and they were just absolutely marveling at how gorgeous I was. Purely because I was skinny. I could get into clubs and bars so easily when I was skinny. The second I gained the weight back? Everyone that had loved me when I was skinny abandoned me with the absolute weakest excuses. No one paid attention to me anymore. I started getting looks of disgust again. Started getting the stares.......you know the stares, right? The ones that say “Wow, I’m so glad I’m not as fat as him!” Stuff like that. My mistress even gave me a special session when I lost all the weight because she was so proud of me. . .despite the fact I lost in a very unhealthy way and for very bad reasons and despite the fact that I was physically sicker than I had ever been. IT DIDN’T SEEM TO MATTER TO ANYONE HOW SICK I WAS and how unhealthy I was and how I was basically dying from extreme starvation and dehydration. All anyone cared about was that I was skinny and my body looked ideal. So I know what thin privilege feels like. . .it gives you the confidence to leave the house whenever you want to. It gives you an ego boost like no other because clothes actually look GOOD on you. It makes people love you like crazy and lust for you. It helps you get in to basically anywhere you want and it helps you get past so many rules and laws and shit just because you’re skinny. You can fucking get away with anything when you’re skinny. I learned that easily when I was tiny. The second I gained it all back, though? It was like I was barred from everywhere and all of my friends and people who were lusting after me just fucking left.

I mean, yes, I’ve had tons of people tell me I’m attractive. Some irl and most online. I have had people tell me I’m gorgeous and alluring and that my eyes are mesmerizing and that they could gaze into them all day. But it’s always so hard for me to believe. . .because of my weight. Not even because I am ugly. . . but simply because of my obesity.

But I’m trying. I’m really trying. I can’t thank you enough for this message. You just gave me an opportunity to vent and get all my crazy emotions out like I really, really needed to. I was gonna keep it all inside for the night and let it eat me alive and destroy me, but. . .now I feel SO MUCH BETTER after being able to rant like that. You just did more for me than raise my self esteem and give me a little ego boost and make me smile and giggle and make me feel really, REALLY good about myself. . .you just helped me to get through a particularly tough state of mind that would have caused me to pop so many more pills and possibly accidentally overdose. You just seriously saved me by sending me this simple compliment.

I can’t thank you enough. There are no words to express my gratitude to you. You just made my whole night turn from miserable and self-loathing. . .to absolutely wonderful and self-affirming. c: You’re a wonderful human being and I’m so so so glad you took the time to type up this message. I’m sorry I had to vent like that, but I just HAD to get it out. You are the best. Ily. Thank you so so so fucking much. I would kill to hug you tight right now.

Also, I haven’t gotten a compliment on my looks on tumblr in a good while now, so this was very refreshing. I used to get compliments on my looks all the time. . .now I barely get any. So this was a nice change of pace. c: Thank you, again. I wish I had the words to express my gratitude, but no words would be able to formulate how extremely thankful I am to you.