#So I did sorta feel bad when envy shot him

[crystalrainfall]

Dear fma fans, would you defend a nazi?

A common thing that annoys me in post Canon brotherhood fics is the fact that the authors try to pass on the message that all is well with the government and that everyone can live happily ever after because they all got pardoned.

Excuse me what?

Now, alot of people say that the characters were forced by the shadow government

(convinient right? Because that was only revealed later, at the time the characters didn't know that, but they still committed all those crimes willingly. Can't blame it now. You still did it.)

And that they helped so much, because they saved the country and what not...

So that coupled with the fact that they were forced to anyway should be enough to forgive them right?

Now most would realize that this is a common defense used to defend literal nazis. That's why this exists : "The defense of superior orders is no defense if the accused knows the act is illegal"

They damn well knew what they were doing.

No amount of making up will ever compensate for anything.

That's what brotherhood preached too right?

That there's nothing of equal value for a soul?

That human life is precious because once it's gone, it's gone?

So why? Why do this stupid thing of making them "make up" by rebuilding ishval. Which pause. Why the fuck would the ishvalans let that guy help him? And be hailed as a hero? For helping them??? He killed thousands, and now wants to sweep in as some tortured soul who wants to play hero and make up for all his sins..? Now he takes all the credit making headlines for being oh so generous for showing common human decency.

Like wow the military isn't all bad! See? They're saving them!

Let's continue boot licking the military, Hey, Maybe we should all stop being racist, because, See! Our military overlords changed their mind!

(I highly doubt that the ishvalans didn't receive any racism from the general public and only the military. Their lives aren't getting better, because an entire crowd doesn't change their minds after their leader is dead. Don't ignore reality.)

And I think I ranted about it before but post Canon fics that still refer to the current leader as Führer and doesn't seem to really strip the military of any power, aren't fucking fixing the problem!

See the problem wasn't that the wrong guy was in charge, it was that fucking system to begin with!

Because, if it was, say democratic, pulling something like that (ethnic cleansing) would've been a tad bit harder wouldn't it??

That's why it pisses me off to no end whenever Mustang or Olivier say that they want to be Führer... Like , I know that you can't really announce proudly you want democracy within a military dictatorship, but at least privately clarify exactly what the hell you mean by, "I want to be Führer."

I'm not telling you that liking your favorite character makes you evil or some shit I'm saying that you should still be able to acknowledge their faults and that they're a horrible person that deserves every bad thing moving forward. And I get it, I like some of these characters too, and it's the ugly truth that nags you when you draw them or like a post with them, but don't look away.

[tisalovestory]

Catfish

Kinktober 2021 — cam couple

A/N: this fic took me a whole week to write LMAO at some point I was making this far too complicated for myself and I had to back track but I am quite pleased with what I managed to do with a concept that I expected to be simple pwp? much thanks to @redbeanteax​ as always for dealing with me when I was basically a ticking time bomb of sensitivity hhhh

Pairing: Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Description: You had not intended for him to find your side account.

Warning: reader has a nudes acc on twitter, you two are basically making amateur porn, lingerie, brief dry humping, filming, creampie, brief fingering, vaginal penetration, cockwarming, degradation, f!masturbation (sorta)

Word count: 8643

-

The first picture of your naked body you had ever taken was not meant to be seen by eyes that weren’t yours and much less being posted to the internet. The thought of leaving your figure out for anyone who came across it to see used to terrify you, knowing that being hidden behind a screen could bring out the most hostile of people. You respected, envied the people who had the guts to do it, studying the posture and angle of pictures where the subject seemed so at ease, so comfortable with themselves.

It was curiosity that made you do it, taking your baggy room wear off and rummaging for your ‘nice bra’ in your closet. The lacey lingerie was all-new, something you had bought on a whim and never had the chance to wear for anyone. Growing into adulthood and leaving your awkward phase in high school had surely helped made looking into the mirror a whole lot easier, but you still felt clumsy at the region of feeling comfortable in being gazed upon. You tried on the same set you were holding in your hands only once when you got it, immediately feeling out of your element at how brazen the garment was, much like you were inviting whoever you might wear it for to come look and come feel. The boldness made your face burn and you never took it out from the bottom of your drawers again until then.

There were times when you were in the bathroom with someone waiting in your bed that you thought of it but never reached for it. Now, it was just you in your room and you let the lace sat on your chest for yourself and no one else, taking your sweet time to stare at your reflection without a worry that you were using up someone’s patience.

It was still you, it was still the same flimsy garment and at first, the bitterness that it did not suit you was still the same. But it was just you, standing in front of the mirror at 2 am and the longer you stayed there, the more you gained this strange feeling that it didn’t actually look as bad as you remembered it to be. Your arms started moving on their own, and then the rest of your body followed, awkwardly mimicking what you saw other people do at first until you found the posture that made you want to keep looking at yourself.

You gulped when you tapped into your phone, carefully angling it so that your face was covered and it was your lace-clad chest right at the center of the frame.

There were no thoughts in your head as you stared at the picture, the battle between your habit to see what needed to be edited away and the newfound thrill of seeing yourself in a new light tugging at your head while you stared blankly.

In the end, you reached a conclusion that made your head light.

You looked beautiful.

It was supposed to be a throwaway, you had fully expected yourself to delete the empty Twitter account you made once you woke up the next morning, after many hours of sleep wash away the rush of adrenaline and replace it with regret.

You laughed dryly at yourself when you stared at your body in the glowing screen, forcing yourself to not think about it while you still thought it was a good idea.

But when you woke up the next morning and your eyes shot wide at the notifications you got, your still groggy brain confused by the numbers when you did not even expect your tweet to be found by people, the thrill was back.

You had ever received so many praises on the way you looked before and the buzz in your chest made your hands shake.

You did not delete the account that day as you had thought you would.

In fact, there was not even so much as a hint of regret when the empty account got less empty the longer you kept it around.

-

You had never expected that you would find someone like Suna in your life.

He was beautiful, by most people’s standards and most importantly your own. You very specifically remember your breath hitching when he walked into the dim karaoke room with his friends, sitting your back straighter as he somehow sat at the sofa seat directly opposite to yours. You had never been invited to any of these speed dating functions masked as “social gatherings” before and it did not take you long to realise that it was for a good reason. Your friends had begged you to fill in after someone else bailed on them last minute, making them one head short from being able to keep the numbers at an even.  It was made to be quite clear that when you were trying to find a match among people you did not know, the immediate thing you could base it off was the visuals you were given. The way anyone who walked into the room subtly racked their gaze around resembled a whole lot of the same looks you detested, the knowing that the adding and deducting of marks had already started the moment you sat down making your mouth dry.

It felt incredibly tiring, watching as your friends suddenly talked louder and smiled wider than usual. And by the looks of how they perked up when it got to his turn to introduce himself, it was quite clear that it was not just you who noticed him right away.

But if you had tried to hide your reluctance then Suna just simply didn’t care, only replying in short sentences and hums whenever someone tried to get him to talk. He did not put in too much effort into dressing up unlike the people he came with, his hair laying loosely at the sides of his head without much styling and the baggy shirt hiding his figure. His long legs crooked up awkwardly in the tiny room, mumbling a muttered apology when his shoes bumped into yours when he did so little as tried to move.

One of the guys invited himself to take up the seat next to yours when your friend got up and moved somewhere closer to the person she had her eye on. The guy was quick to start telling you about himself, not seeming to notice your lack of interest as he took your polite replies as a cue to keep going. You distracted yourself by toying with the ice cubes in your drink, nodding mindlessly while you turned your head away from the man whose expressions only got more dramatic as he went on and on.

He was a few syrupy cocktails in, leaning closer and closer to you as you kept moving away from him which he clearly didn’t take the hint for. The music through the speakers made your ear buzz and the fact that whoever had the mic right now was by no means a good singer did not help your discomfort. The guy lunged forward with a loss of his balance when you stood up, your irritation finally reaching its breaking point when you could nearly feel his breath on your neck while telling you for the third time that he was sure he would get an offer from a big company before he even graduated university, using that as a transition to ask if you wanna go to the next yacht party he would hold so he could introduce you to his “powerful friends in the industry”.

His eyes widened in loss like he didn’t know why you were getting up all of a sudden when the conversation was going well. He was probably too busy talking about himself to notice your ticking patience or the clearly fake smile on your face as you tilted your head.

“I’m not feeling well,” you said sweetly, your smile falling as soon as you turned around.

You sucked in the deep breath you could not take in the muggy room as the door shut, shielding you from the yells and off-tine singing as you leaned against the wall. The pink neon lights of the karaoke made your head hurt, your eyes flicking to the ceiling as you sighed, wondering how long you could stay out without having to go back in to avoid suspicion.

You were not exactly enjoying yourself, but you would hate to be labelled a killjoy either.

The noises from the room suddenly got loud as the door creaked open, a few giggly whines following when someone, whoever it was, left the room.

There was an awkward silence looming in the air when Suna turned around and saw you already standing there, while you shifted to stand more properly when he bumped into you alone outside the room, not doing anything but also not going inside. The corridor was just wide enough for there to be some space between you two as he stood with his back to the wall, the music from the rooms next door ringing faintly behind the walls.

“You’re not going back in?” he spoke up first.

The polite way to go at it was to find some reason explaining how you would return soon, after feeling better from whatever symptom of sickness you could think of at the top of your head. But you were tired and you doubted that he cared when he escaped from the people fawning over him despite their protests.

You shook your head, “I don’t really want to, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckled, and his eyes lifted up for the first time that night as he looked straight ahead at you.

You felt conscious of your posture when his eyes stopped on you, your arms that had been laying loosely at your sides going up to hold onto each other as you tried to roll your shoulders back as naturally as you could. He looked amused, with his hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans and one heel stopped against the wall. “Getting tired of having your ears talked off?”

Ah, so everyone must have noticed except the guy himself. You sighed, “He kept bragging to me about how he smokes weed on a yacht, I don’t know if I can hold in the urge to tell him that’s not impressive any longer.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to another, his eyes curving into two thin slants on his face, “Not into braggers?”

“Not into braggers who have nothing good to brag about.”

Suna laughed, throwing his head to the side as he pressed the back of his hand to hide his smirk. You could not help but think about how he was even prettier up close when he leaned forward, the stretch of his arm guiding your gaze to his smiling eyes.

He was gorgeous and he looked like he knew he had it in the bag, a trait that was damningly charming to people like you who could not always say so for yourself.

“Suna,” his eyes were twinkling when he pushed himself off the wall and extended his hand towards you.

You giggled, and your face heated up at how unlike you the sheepish noise sounded. “I know, we all introduced ourselves when we sat down.”

“That was to everyone,” he said, his arm still hanging out as he pursed his lips into a cheeky grin, “I’m introducing myself to you now.”

And the special treatment must be making you bold, because you let yourself took his hand without immediately backing away the moment he held onto you. “Alright then,” you said, looking away from him briefly when he locked eyes with you, “(y/n).”

His hand was much larger than yours, the callouses at the pad of his fingers brushing at your skin and you tensed at the texture when it tickled the center of your palm. “Oh, sorry, my hands are a bit rough,” he said softly, not really sounding that apologetic as he wet his lips, “I’m an athlete.”

There were footsteps nearing and he darted his stare to the side, letting go of your hand only when someone tried to pass through the corridor you were blocking. Your face felt hot, the feeling of his fingers running along your palm as he pulled away still ghosting on your skin and you held onto your hand to stop it.

He resumed his previous posture, the long sleeves of his shirt hiding his hands as he crossed his arm in front of his chest. “Is that a better brag than yacht parties?” he asked.

You would have to admit that it was starting to get to your head that he was out here with you by his own choice when people had fought to sit by his side just earlier. There was a shameful burn in your stomach at the realisation that you were not any less shallow than the people who you were criticising just earlier, but you gulped it down.

“Depends on whether you’re a good one,” you bit the inside of your cheeks, holding back the clear sign that it did not actually matter at this point.

“Hm...” he hummed, his lips parting as he quirked his eyebrow up when the door next to him suddenly opened and he immediately closed his mouth, the smirk on his face disappearing in an instance when a slurred shout came from inside.

“Are you two ready to come back in yet?”

“Took you long enough,” the yacht guy said with a smirk he deemed to be very swoon-worthy, “feeling better?”

“Oh, much better,” you said in a sing-song voice, watching the way Suna snorted softly from the corner of your eyes, “feeling much clearer in the head after a break.”

The rest of the night went by much quicker than it did before your little encounter with Suna. The rambling in your ear became much more bearable when you would look up as your eyes darted around the room and saw him already looking at you, pretending to give a response to whoever was trying to flirt with him when he was nudging you under the table instead.

You declined when the group made plans for a second round after time was up for the karaoke and you did the same when the guy who had been hogging the seat next to yours asked for your contacts, saying that you did not feel comfortable giving your number to someone you had just met.

(The look of displeasure on his face was short-lived and he passed off his embarrassment of being turned down with a sigh. “What a pity,” he said, “my friend has just got a new boat and I was going to see if you would like to come when I borrow it next time.”

“Yes,” you said, already prepared to never see his face again for the rest of your life, “what a pity.”)

It was a lie, obviously, because you did not do so much as hesitate to give Suna your number when you saw him waiting a few blocks away from the karaoke even though he had already left before you were held up, the smile dancing on his face when he perked up from his phone making your heart raced.

And in all honestly, you had a very hard time holding back your grin when your friend came to you the next day and complained about how “the hot guy from yesterday” did not give anyone his number.

Except you.

-

You wore something very cute under your clothes on your first date. Not because of the possibility that he might see them at the end of the day, but because you needed that boost of confidence.

There was no way anyone could tell that you were wearing a laced-up bodysuit underneath your dress and it didn’t matter if it would be a secret only you and yourself knew. You got the lingerie as a gift to yourself for achieving the follower milestone you never thought you would reach from posting pictures of yourself and immediately after trying it on, you knew it was worth the investment, not to mention the cute pictures you got out of it as a bonus. Your followers had gone wild when you showed it on your timeline for the first time, another batch pouring in after a few popular nsfw accounts rebtweeted your pictures.

It made you feel like a million bucks and really, that was all you ever wanted to feel in anything. It became your go-to when you were in any situation that required confidence that could be so hard to muster out. Feeling good about yourself could be a powerful kick when you most needed it, and that was exactly how it was when you were about to see Suna again.

No matter how the date went and how he thought about you now that he saw you in broad daylight, there was a lot he didn’t know about you, this was one of those things.

You spotted him from a distance away, his slender figure standing out in the crowds of people. If he had been effortlessly good-looking the last time, then he had outdone himself this time around. A black wristwatch sat below the rolled-up sleeves of his blazer, calling your arms to the vein pulsing at the side of his forearm every time his wrist flicked. The thick belt synching his waist made his chest looked broader, the gold buckle sitting above his slacks that fell loosely on his long legs.

He looked like he walked out of a poster, and you just felt an awful lot like a catfish without even meaning to deceit him when you were out of the protective dimness of the tacky neon lights.

Your brain was being mean to you, you had to remind yourself when he looked up, returning his little wave shyly even though your heart was beating in anxiousness.

“You look very pretty,” that was the first thing he said to you, as if for some odd reasons you had managed to share the same thought only from different perspectives, “even prettier now that I get to see you clearly without the gruesome pink lights hurting my eyes.”

He probably meant it but the compliment still knocked you in the stomach, the many years spent dodging comments about the way you look still making you diffident to accept praises as they were. You managed to laugh off your sudden drop in mood. “Smooth talker,” you mused, pretending to roll your eyes at him.

“Just telling the truth,” he said, holding his opened palm to you with a sly grin.

You took his hand with a huff but you have got to give him credit, he did manage to make you feel like you were worthy of such high praise all through out the day. It was the small things that made you sink deeper and deeper, like how he casually pulled you to his other side when he noticed that the sun was shining right on you, or his hand hovering over your shoulder but not touching you when the streets were getting crowded.

He was so charming, such a gentleman, and your heart did a little flip every time you wanted to apologise when you noticed you were rambling only to see the way his eyes curved into two crescents while he hid his grin with the back of his hand.

“Hm?” he pressed on his lips with his fingers, nonchalantly bringing his cup up to replace his hand but still not being able to hide the corner of his lifted lips from behind the rim, “go on.”

You had your hesitations. Anyone could manage to be likeable if the conversation was short enough, what if he turned out to be a massive dick once you spent more time with him? You already had your perfectly valid excuses made up and ready in your head on how to cut the date short if things did not go well, to the point where you completely forgotten about what could happen if things went well.

Because it did, you liked him a lot, so much that you asked him if he wanted to come in when he was about to leave after walking you to your door.

His presence alone made your head spin. You did not recall when was the last time you were touched the way he was touching you the moment he was on you, his hands tugging and gripping at whatever he could reach as you hastily pulled his jacket off. Your limbs were a tangling mess as you tried to get rid of the distracting layers while stumbling to the bed, his strong hands pulling you back almost immediately before smashing his lips onto yours at the slightest hint of you wanting to part away.

Suna did not look so effortless anymore, not while he was moaning into your mouth when you palmed his erection through his slacks. The flirtatious touch made him lose patience, but he still remembered to cradle the back of your neck when he pushed you onto your bed. The sight of him panting above you knocked air out of your lungs, the flush on his face as he shrugged off his top made your thighs pressed tightly together.

You melted into a puddle of water from him just at how he lost his composure because he wanted you badly enough.

It was only when his breath hitched and eyes widened that you remembered what you were wearing underneath the clothes that now laid on your floor. His arms caged you in and now you were feeling terribly exposed, even though you were so ready for it just earlier. You knew exactly what he was looking at now, after having seen the way your body looked in the see-through bodysuit many times before. Your arms went up to cover the plunged neckline as you shy away from his wanton gaze, shrinking yourself into the mattress as he ran his eyes all over you.

Your face heated up at what he might think about someone who wore a full-blown lingerie set to a first date, knowing how desperate that must have made you look.

You gasped when your arms were pulled away, shivering when you felt his hand running from the bone of the bustier down to your waist under stopping at the root of your thigh.

“Is this for me?” he asked slowly, his voice dropped in tone and almost coming out like a purr as he dipped his head down to your neck.

A soft moan slipped from the back of your throat when his lips ghosted over your collarbone, the feeling of his fingers snaking between your legs and dangerously close to where you were getting hot for him far too distracting. The truth was that it wasn’t, you did not even consider the possibility of him ever seeing you like this before he managed to win you over completely.

But with his hoarse voice in your ear and his warm breath fanning your skin, you were ready to tell him anything he wanted to hear just to know if he liked the thought of you dressing up for him.

Suna rolled his hips against you when you let out a weak hum, the hardness nudging at your clothed cunt making your chest arched from the friction.

“Oh darling,” he whispered as if he was completely awestruck, pushing himself up to look fully at how you looked below him. The heat in his body was making him feel strange and as much as he liked what he was seeing, all he wanted was to rip that flimsy thing off of you.

You whimpered when he kissed you, his lips trailing down the valley of your chest as he spoke.

“I’m not worthy.”

-

Being with Suna was like a dream. He was so sweet and so nice. A bit aloof to the outside eye but never towards you. He made you feel like a goddess and you had started to get ahead of yourself with the newfound satisfaction of being treasured, letting the secrets you kept to yourself flew over your head.

Like how you secretly had a side account on Twitter, used straightly for you to post sultry pictures of yourself, something you had no intention to tell him.

Until now.

“Baby,” Suna looked as nonchalant as always when he spoke up, his legs tangled lazily with yours as he sat against the arm of your sofa with you to his chest. You froze when he handed you his phone and saw the familiar feed that was opened, “is this you?”

Acid pooled in your mouth as your shoulders tensed, panic and regret swimming in your head when you thought of what you should possibly say. You could potentially lie and say that it wasn’t you but you were certain that it would only make your case look worse, knowing full well that your boyfriend of all people should be able to recognise your naked body. The picture on his screen was your newest one, something you had been particularly pleased about. With you laying on your bed, your hands on top of the mesh robe that pooled around your arms and hiding your tits. The soft glow from the sinking sun slashed across your skin artistically, accentuating the dips and dents on your body with the mash of light and shadows, the glossy fabric draping over your figure. The frame cut just below the nape of your neck, the fainted marks on your shoulders leaving a whole lot of room for the viewer’s imagination.

Marks that he had left on you, and you could feel the pulse on you as his hands tapped at the side of your waist, the buzz of his teeth dragging against your skin burned at the back of your head.

You gulped when his hand inched into your shirt, tracing circles on the skin above your waist. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you stuttered, leaning back against him when he pulled his phone out of your hands with two fingers.

You did not dare to move when he fell into silence, the muscles on his torso flexing with each breath he took, slow and steady and making your heart beat crazily like a child that just got caught. Suna did not say a word and you could hear his fingernail tapping on the screen, your face burning up as he kept scrolling.

You had thought about quitting it all together when you got with him, doing what you had thought you would do before you got hooked. He was the first person you had dated since you started posting nudes and it made you feel awfully conflicted. It was understandable if he was upset about it, but you also loved the feeling of being desired and admired far too much.

You learnt how to utilise what you had to its biggest advantage, you knew what made you look the best and it wasn’t that him being crazy for you was not enough, but you just couldn’t give up the feeling of being powerful just yet.

You were exclusive to him as he was to you, but behind that there were a good amount of people seeing what he thought was only meant for him. It was not cheating, but you wondered if he would think it was if he knew, which was precisely the last thing you wanted.

So now, with his silence, it was starting to frighten you.

“Rin?” you called out for him softly, shifting on his lap as you tried to turn towards him, “Are you mad?”

But Suna did not look angry or as upset as you thought he might be. The pale glow fanning out on his face made his gaze looked sharper, and you shuddered when it turned from the pictures of you on his phone to you. His free hand found its way to the small of your back, his tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip.

It was the familiar bedding that caught his eye when you showed up on his timeline through someone he followed, knowing almost immediately that it was you. How could he not when it was the same lingerie you wore when he fucked you the first time, he still thought about how luscious you looked when you could not even look at him in the eyes, the shyness contrasting with what you were wearing sharply and made him want you even more. “Shy” was not something he would use to describe the girl on his screen, there was nothing meek about how suggestive you looked with your arm covering your breasts while you were tugging at the ribbons of the bodice.

He kept scrolling, feeling himself getting harder and harder the more he saw. What got him was the comments you got, all the people flooding you telling you how gorgeous you were and how much they would do just to see more of you. You never showed them everything, always covering what they were begging to see one way or another. Suna palmed himself when he saw the way you politely declined anyone who asked if you would send them something private if they pay you, feeling a strange sense of possessiveness welling in his chest.

These people all wanted you, but they were not going to get any of you, not when you looked like you were about to tear up in front of him now because you were so distressed by the thought of him being mad at you.

Gave him a power rush just from the thought of it.

He let out a soft “awe” when you trembled at his touch, your eyelashes fluttered when he kissed your pouting lips. “I’m not mad,” he said, the corner of his lips tugging up at how you were looking at him all doe-eyed and worried, your hands that were pressed on his chest all shaky while your lips parted. Pulling you down until you were straddling his lap, you whimpered when he guided you to grind on his hardness, “Just... a little jealous that your followers get to see you in a new set before I do, that’s all.”

Whining softly when he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, your clothed cunt clenched when he held you down, the print of his cock under his sweats pressing firmly on you. “Can you wear that for me?” he muttered, a smile spreading on his face as you jumped when he licked the shell of your ear.

You gulped, “Which one?”

“The mesh one that opens in the front,” he replied, chuckling when you tensed up, “with the crotchless thong?”

You tried to wiggle your hips but he stopped you, his playful gaze burning into your pleading eyes. He was not letting you off easily and you gulped, pressing your thighs together tightly when you felt the gushing wetness pooling between your legs as you climbed off of him, completely unaware of your boyfriend’s wolfish grin when you stumbled to your closet.

You had every bit of intention to wear this for him someday, truly, but you were still mustering enough courage for that. Wearing it for the camera was one thing but standing in front of someone with practically nothing covering you was another. Suna had no shame letting his eyes linger when you stepped out in front of him, seeming to get more excited when you tried to cover yourself. The mesh robe was held together by nothing but a thin bow at the center of your chest, your arms just hiding your nipples that could easily be seen over the sheer fabric. You shifted uncomfortably when you felt your walls clenching under his heated gaze, the feeling of your slick gathering prominent with how your pussy clenched around nothing through the cut-out.

“I wasn’t sure if this looks good so I wanted to wait before showing you,” you said, feeling your face lit up when he stood in front of you and unfolded your arms.

“So you went and show the internet first?” he said, clearly enjoying how nervous you were, “Naughty...”

“That’s not-”

“It’s cute that you’re only this shy for me,” his nimble fingers pulled at the end of the ribbon, goosebumps exploding on your skin when the robe came undone bit by bit, “how come you’re not shy when you’re letting strangers drool over you, hm?”

Your hands pushed at his chest weakly but he didn’t budge, only pulling you flush against him while his hand crept down your front. “You like me so much, it’s cute,” he chuckled, shoving his knee between your legs. You clawed at his shoulders when you felt the cotton of his sweats rubbing at your bare cunt, latching onto him while his arms snaked around you.

“You’re right to not show it to me first though,” you shuddered at the vibration of his voice in your ear, “because I am not confident that I can keep it in one piece by the time I’m done with you.”

Suna was rougher with you than he had ever been that day, biting and sucking at any inch of skin on your body he could reach, on your chest, on your thighs, and all over your neck. You had begged him to please take the lingerie off of you, the frilly hem of the panties being soaked with your juices as he pushed you through orgasm after orgasm in a feral state you had never seen him in. Suna only laughed at your broken pleas, the mean sound making you felt dizzy in the head as his cock drilled in and out of your abused hole. Bottoming out of you each time, he was most certainly making the squelches as loud as possible, hooking your knees over his shoulders while he fucked you hard until you were seeing stars.

You were so close to passing out when his hard cock throbbed inside of you, the robe you were laying on all soaked through with your arousal when he finally pulled out of you. The obscene sound of how sloppy it sounded when he jerked himself off had you rolling your head back, still huffing and panting when he came all over your tits.

Your eyes were threatening to close up from how worn out you felt, but the sound of camera shutters going off made you snapped up at him.

Suna could not tell you how content he felt when you looked at him, tears staining your face as sweat glistened on your skin, a few drops of his cum dripping onto the mesh that threatened to slide off of your frame. You had been so good for him, your mouth whimpering that it was too much while your pussy still sucked him in in blatant honesty. You shuddered when he gave you a rewarding kiss, patting your head while rolling himself onto the mattress next to you.

Your face burned when he tilted his phone towards you.

“Post this on your account,” Suna said with a wicked grin, “you look so good here.”

The next day, your phone blew up when a new tweet appeared on your followers’ timeline, with the lingerie set that had been so crisp just a day before being all bunched up under you, splotches of white all over your bare chest, and nothing covering your cunt but someone’s leaking cock.

-

Discovering your little secret has unlocked a whole new kink you never expected your boyfriend to indulge in.

The content you posted got more and more graphic as his involvement increased, the contrast of pictures you took yourself and the ones he took of you was stark enough that everyone had started to pick up.

“Rin, you always take pictures when I’m looking ugly,” you whined, trying to fight for his phone so you could delete a photo of your eyes rolling back while he came all over your face with one hand gripping your hair.

Suna laughed when your arms were not long enough to reach him, smirking when you clicked your tongue as he forced you to look at what you called your “ugly face”. “And?” he retaliated, ignoring the way you pinched his arm, “I love showing people that I fuck you so good you can’t even think about trying to look pretty.”

But people were wild for it too, loving the way you were so composed and elegant in some pictures but the next tweet from you might be a shot of you holding your legs up, a man’s fingers plunged deep into your wet hole and the heel of his palm pressed against your clit.

The increasing crudeness of your pictures only gave you a spike in following and it only skyrocketed when you started posting not just stills but videos.

The first video you ever posted was just less than a minute long but it sure did enough. You refused to watch it yourself despite Suna’s constant teasing, not really ready to know how you looked in his eyes when you were too concerned about getting split open to make yourself look good the way you knew how to.

“Are you sure? Because I always watch back on this one when you’re not around...” That was his way of messing with you, stopping almost immediately after he clicked into it. The sound of you mewling was a sure way to get you to glare at him, even though it looked nothing but adorable to him as he put his phone away with a giggle.

He only got cockier as the lengths of the videos got longer, until eventually, the 2 minutes 20 seconds limit of Twitter did not do it for you anymore. You had been fidgeting the whole time he set the camera up at the other corner of your bed, shifting up against the mattress until your back was hitting the headboard. Posting nudes and sex tapes on twitter was one thing, but the realisation that you were now making actual porn sudden dwell on you when you saw the red light blinking, tensing at the thought of how this would appear in the searches among side actual professionals who were so much more produced and attractive than you were.

The coldness of the lube dripping onto your skin brought your attention back to your boyfriend, who was lubing up his fingers and running the coated digits along your folds. “Don’t overthink this,” he said, his face half-covered by the black mask he was wearing. You whimpered when his fingers slipped inside of you, stretching you out as he scissored them between your walls, “if you don’t like it, we can always delete that footage.” Suna was comforting you, but there was not a doubt that he was grinning behind the mask when he crooked his index finger and you arched off the mattress, pulling out just to rub at your puffy clit.

It had got to be a part of his plan because by the time he was done with you, you were already too hazy and fucked out of your mind to think about the camera that was rolling. You refused to look at the video yourself, handing the editing and the posting all to him by his insistence that it was good.

It should have been part of your expectations that someone like him, who seemed to be more excited the more you squirm and tried to hide away, would use your absolute refusal to see the way you looked on film against you one day.

Suna knew you too well, knowing exactly which button to push to get you to react the way he wanted you to. You were just lounging on the sofa in his arm one second earlier, your head laying on his chest as you blankly stared at the tv that played. His hand started slipping under your shirt the moment the on-screen kiss started getting heavier, his heel rubbing at the bridge of your foot as he hoisted you up on his lap.

One thing led to another and soon the boring daytime drama was ignored altogether when clothes started coming off. Your shirt was the first thing that went, with your bra he had unclasped while he was snaking around falling off your shoulders the moment he latched on you. You whimpered when he pushed your panties to the side, parting your folds while you impatiently pulled his cock out of the restraints.

It was going so well and you let out a broken moan when you sunk down on his length only to have him gripping you in place and stopping you from moving at all.

“Rin,” you whimpered, digging into his forearms that caged you on him, desperate for more friction as the initial burn from the stretch slowly passed.

“I want to try something,” he mumbled, placing wet kisses on your skin while fumbling for the remote.

You nearly jumped when the channels switched and a loud moan echoed through the living room, a voice that you so distinctively recognised to be your own. Suna groaned at the sudden squeeze of your walls, holding back his urge to cum inside of you when you twisted your head over, your pupils all blown out in humiliation and shock.

“Rin!” you hissed, even though it came out as nothing stronger than a mewl when he throbbed inside of you.

“What?” he said like it was funny, chasing your lips even though you turned your head away out of annoyance, “Is this not hotter than what we were watching earlier?”

“Suna Rintarou,” your face was burning feverishly, both from the want to have him give you more friction and the vulgar sight of yourself getting railed on the large screen.

“Sh...” his hand cradled the back of your head, forcing you to look straight ahead, “don’t look at me, look at yourself.”

You hated the way your cunt gushed around him even when you just wanted nothing more but to stay annoyed at him for making you do this. You refused to believe that it was you on the tv, looking every bit desperate and sex-crazed as you let him bounce you on his cock like you were nothing but a ragdoll. Your ass bounced against his thighs every time he slammed you down, the loud noises of skin against skin reminding you of how it felt like to have his balls slapping you when he bottoms out inside of you. His hands hooked under your knees much like the position he had you in now, only that his length was burying deep inside of you, manhandling you like your cunt was just a cocksleeve for him to abuse.

Something he wasn’t doing now, and you hated to say that you wanted nothing more than to get what the person on the screen was having.

“Rin, please,” your voice came out cracked but he only squeezed your thighs as he locked you in place.

“Be patient,” he clicked his tongue, piercing over your shoulder as he pecked your neck.

“Ah- Ah! Oh fuck! So good- so good...”

The hotness of his cock pressing tightly against your walls was painfully prominent, making your toes curled with his hard tip nudging at you. You whimpered and dug your nails into his arm when he gripped at your legs, spreading them for him at the same moment when he pulled out of you in the video, the sight of your hole clenching around nothing as the mixture of your slick and his cum dripped out of your folds as he lifted you for the camera.

“You don’t see the way people talk about this pretty pussy, do you?” he chuckled, caressing the inside of your thigh as the other traced your sex that was stuffed with his girth. He continued, grinning at the way your legs tensed when the video closed up on his fingers pushing his cum back inside you, “Everyone who watches wants to be the one fucking your tight cunt, talking about all the obscene things they would do with your body if you are their slut instead.”

You cried out when he thrust into you with no warning, seeing white in your vision at the sudden tug at your strings. “Does it turn you on? Knowing that there’s poor men out there jerking off to you creaming on my cock?”

Suna chuckled when you shook your head weakly, the vibration making his cock shift inside of you. You watched in envy when you were thrown onto the bed roughly on screen, your legs pushed up into a mating press as he perched on top of you. A choked whine ripped from the back of your throat at the sight of yourself getting stretched open when he plunged his cock inside of you, the curve of his balls sitting perfectly on your ass when he snapped up.

“Now you know how pretty you look when you’re getting fucked,” your velvet walls clenched when he licked your earlobe, “you want me to fuck you like that now?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Touch yourself,” your velvet walls clenched when he licked your earlobe, “if you can get yourself off then I’ll give it all to you.”

Your pulse quickening at the mix of arousal and embarrassment that plagued your brain, wanting to take your eyes off the tv but too entranced to do so. “Go on,” he urged, pinching your hardened peaks and you jerked backwards, “you want to.”

It was confusing how turned on you were, feeling as if you were peeking at a pair of strangers in their most intimate moments instead of it being yourself. Suna’s chest rise and fall behind your back, his skin hot against yours as you leaned against his toned muscles. Your fingertips elicited a trail of tingles as you hesitantly ran it down the center of your torso, sighing when they formed a V at the sides of your pussy and pulling your lips apart all while he was still snugly inside of you. Your head tipped back when you pulled back the hood covering your clit, the noise that slipped from your lips matching the ones that were being played through the speakers.

“Hm- uhn...”

The itch in your core latched onto the feeling of your fingers rubbing at your clit for release, your back tensing and arching against him. Your other hand held onto his arm for leverage, your eyes fighting to stay open through the reflex of wanting to shut tight from the pleasure. It was not as good as having him service you but that was all you could get, chasing the budding feeling of your high that had built at the pit of your stomach. The Suna on screen was making you shake with each piston, ripping out moan after moan from you when he switched to fluid strokes, wetness rolling down the curve of your hips as his cock pushed the slick out of you. You couldn’t help but mewl at the sight, feeling as if he was moving inside of you now as you flicked at the sensitive bud, running your palm along the sides of your sloppy cunt that sat at the base of his cock to collect your arousal.

Suna grunted when you clamped down on him, collapsing on him when your body gave in after the waves of your orgasm washed you over. He gave a breathless chuckle, leaning down when you tugged at his arm and kissed you square on your trembling lips, earning him a shaky sigh. “You,” he said, featherlight kisses trailing down the side of your neck as he slowly laid you on the sofa and you whimpered at the feeling of his cock moving inside of your still sensitive cunt, “are everything I can ever ask for.”

Your mouth fell slack when he finally let loose, your legs wrapped up around his waist weakly with the last bit of strength you could muster out when he pounded on you. The sofa was creaking under his force, your body sinking deep into the cushions as he hammered in and out of your hole. The way his hips slammed down on yours was bone-crushing, your body surging forward each time he pressed himself onto you. Suna lifted your hips up, gripping you vice on the thighs as he continued to use you the way you liked. The new angle made your knees weak, his hard tip bumping at the spongey spot deep inside of you with every thrust. You were seeing stars with how hard he was fucking you, his feral grunts right at your ear while the sound of the tv tickled your senses. Your voice was easily picked up by the camera and you could rarely hear him when you were filming but he was being so loud today, soft moans mixing in between pants when he was getting closer and closer.

Suna pulled you close to his chest when he reached his limit, feeling the way your body curved so perfectly against his as he poured his load inside of you. You whimpered at the warmth that rushed into you, his cock throbbing with each spurt that painted your insides. He stayed still when he slowly softened, the sounds of the people on tv reaching their release sounding distant with your ear on his chest, his erratic heartbeat filling your ears.

The video was cut when he slowly pulled his softened cock out of you, the stickiness seeping out of you with each of your exhale. Suna chuckled at your blissful expression, sighing into your touch when your hands rested by his neck as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Alright,” you said when he pulled away from the kiss, sounding out of breath when you rolled your eyes playfully, “where did you hide the camera this time?”

He froze, the tip of his nose brushing against yours as you held him there. “There’s no camera,” he laughed.

“Oh, don’t lie,” you sat up, wincing when you felt the wetness that was running down your legs, “where is it?”

He huffed, mumbling when you crawled up from the sofa, “Behind the router.”

“I knew it,” you said, making your way to the shower to wash away the grime on your body. You halted in your tracks, spinning on your heel at your dazed boyfriend before giving him a cheeky grin. “You know,” you said, mimicking the way he always speaks when he thought you were being obvious, “you talk more when there is a camera.”

Suna watched as you disappeared into the bathroom. slamming the door shut. He blinked, and ran his hand through his hair with a snort of disbelief that while he was so cocky, you also got him figured out in the process.

As established, you were everything he could ask for and more.

Suna stretched his limbs, rolling to his side before sliding off the sofa. The tiny lens was hidden discreely behind the box of your router, nearly invisible unless you already knew it was there. The camera stopped when he pressed on the button and seconds later, a new video file appeared in his gallery.

He licked his lips, before shutting his phone off.

He would save this one for his eyes only.

[clynnra]

Strongest Together

After that disappointing last ten minutes of the series finale, I didn't think I would ever write for my beloved boys again. But, thanks to binging lots of episodes of the show on ion since it started airing there (happy to post this story on one of ion's Five-O Fridays) and reading many fix-it fics, I had to do this for Danny. I will be forever bitter that our last glimpse of him ever was hurt (physically and emotionally) and alone on Steve's beach. So this is my way of fixing that sad image. There's background (literally, just a few minor mentions) Steve/Catherine and Danny/others, but this is a McDanno story. I didn't want to vilify Steve, since he should take care of himself and find peace, so I hope that comes across. Finally, eternal thanks to my beta PhoebeMiller for making my story way better than it was with her fantastic feedback about story line, diction, and all the grammar. She's an awesome writer in her own right - go read her wonderful stories! And always thanks to SheppardMcKay for inspiring me to post fic.

Steve and Danny. Danny and Steve. Steve left Danny. Danny was alone.

Sighing, Danny knew he had his kids, his family and the team. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt so fucking much. Days like today, it still hurt to breathe.

Danny didn’t begrudge Steve finding his peace. Or his taking care of himself. Hell, he tried to instill self preservation in his Neanderthal time and again. But when Steve finally took his advice and put himself first, it had ripped Danny’s heart to shreds.

It still hurt so damn much because of the way Steve left. The timing sucked. Just out of the hospital, Danny could barely walk even with his cane. This proved Steve was hiding the depth of his own suffering. Normally, he'd never leave Danny when he was injured. Danny smiled and remembered Steve raiding his house for cookies after he'd been shot in quarantine. The fondness bubbling up just about killed him.

More memories of this year from hell came back, and Danny had to sit down. He'd moved himself into Steve's house after Doris died because he sensed Steve needed him. The loss was just too much after Joe's death. When Joanna had died, Steve was there for him, cooking him eggs most mornings, claiming routine was good. Danny knew Steve was talking about himself, too.

They'd fallen into something Danny dared call a relationship when he was awake late at night, insomnia raging. He and Steve lived together. They ate meals together most nights. They walked Eddie, locked up the house and said good night like a couple.

A couple of idiots, Danny grumbled now. Or was he the biggest idiot? He'd made this huge leap into what proved to be a lonely abyss.

What hurt the most was Steve pretty much rejecting the idea of the two of them growing old together on that beach. Danny didn't know for sure when his best friend would return from his Kung Fu adventures. He'd only counted on Steve coming home at some point. Now, when he replayed their last conversation, the dagger twisted in his chest even more.

The sad fact was - Danny loved Steve. Not just like a friend. He loved him like I want to spend the rest of my life with you even though you drive me crazy, you caveman. He never told Steve he was in love with him. Danny was scared and convinced such an admission would be suicide. Because he feared their friendship would be over, was so sure of it, in fact, that he kept all of his feelings locked away. He didn't want to fuck up the best friendship he'd ever had.

Not to mention, Steve was straight. He'd never given Danny any hint that he was interested. Unless you counted Steve's octopus arms and his total disregard for Danny's personal space. Which Danny did not dwell on. No way could he let himself go there. That's why he'd pushed Steve into dating. First Brooke and then the vet. Neither had really worked out, and Danny did not allow himself to question why. He would have kept on searching for the perfect mate for Steve, too, if he hadn't left. Even though Danny wanted it to be him.

No one knew Danny's secret. Although he mostly dated women, he had a few relationships with men while at Seton Hall. He kept his attraction to men close to the vest. He'd thought his college experiments were in the rearview mirror until the giant goof stole his crime scene.

To distract himself from the heartbreak over Steve’s dating, he’d focused on reconciling with Rachel in a vain attempt to stitch his family back together. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, it just didn’t work since he was in love with Steve. When they finally figured out they were better as friends, Rachel shocked him with advice to stop dithering and tell Steve. He was so taken aback by Rachel’s accurate insight into his heart, past all his bullshit, he’d gone to that bar and met Joanna. Like so many other things in his life, hooking up with her to forget Rachel and Steve had ended all kinds of bad. Spectacular didn't even cut it. Joanna's death wasn't his fault. This he knew. But he couldn't stop feeling guilty. She was with him in the car because of how he'd chosen to mend himself, and she'd died after everything he'd done to try to save her.

And of course, there was Catherine. He envied her for having Steve the way he wanted. She knew every inch of him. She knew so many more secrets.  Steve had opened his heart to her - and what had she done? She'd pulled a Doris. More than once. And the idiot took her back.

Weren't they a pair? Danny knew he was a hypocrite for being angry with Steve about getting back with an ex time and again. He didn't care. He couldn't help feeling upset that Steve was with Catherine (probably this very minute) and not him.

+++++++

Three months had passed since Steve left, and Danny’s PT was coming along well. He texted Steve a few times a week to check in, while Steve returned his texts within a couple hours. They’d spoken on the phone a few times, and Danny lost himself in the comforting cadence of Steve’s voice. Their calls ranged from about 20 minutes to almost an hour, and their talks were nice. But during one of their conversations, as he listened to Steve chatter on about what he did in whatever destination he was currently staying, Danny realized that Steve’s journey to find himself didn’t include him. Steve didn’t need him like Danny needed him. And that revelation punched the breath out of him. He tried to cover it, but Steve, with his keen SEAL senses, heard it.

“Danno, you okay?” Steve interrupted his story about what he saw in Scotland.

“Yeah, babe, I’m ok. Just still get tired sometimes. Had PT this morning and energy kinda zapped. You mind if we pick this up some other time? I’m gonna have a lie down.” Danny chewed his lips as he lied. It was a white lie, but still.

“Ok… you take care buddy. I love you.” Steve said with a note of concern.

“You too.” replied Danny. He couldn’t tell Steve he loved him on their calls because he didn’t want Steve to hear how in love with him he was. Texting “love you, too” was fine, but when he said it, he felt his heart in his throat.

Putting his phone down, Danny glanced around himself. He was still at Steve’s house sitting on his couch. Eddie was laying on the floor nearby. And Danny came to a decision. Steve was out finding himself, and Danny really needed to do the same. He had spent so much of the past ten years being part of Steve and Danny that outside of being a father to Grace and Charlie and being on the task force, he‘d kinda lost himself. He felt like his life wasn’t making sense after deciding to just be friends with Rachel and then the tragedy with Joanna. He knew that in order to move on with his life, he had to make a change. He would always be there for Steve, but it was time he was there for himself.

A few days later, Steve called again. This time he was in Ireland. He told Danny about the beautiful scenery there, and after he was done, he asked, “So, what are you up to now, Danno? PT almost done right?”

Danny took a deep breath and started. “Funny you should ask that. I, um, I’m gonna move back to my place, Steve.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Why? Danny, is something wrong?” Steve replied, trying to keep a lock on his emotions.

“No, babe.” Danny grimaced and continued. “I just, uh, think it’s time to move back. You know, you’re out there trying to find yourself and your peace without me…”

Steve gasped, “Danny…”

Shaking his head, Danny kept going. “and that’s fine, Steve. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You deserve to find the peace and happiness you need. I just need to find myself again a bit. After Joanna died, I felt sorta lost. And I was starting to make sense of my life again before Daiyu Mei swooped in…” He didn’t mention and when you left me. Danny shook that thought from his head.

“So, I need to do this. To remember who I was before I was part of Steve and Danny…” he finished with a fake chuckle.

“Danno, are you sure?” Steve asked, a note of sadness in his voice.

Danny nodded even though Steve couldn’t see him. ���Yes.”

There was another moment of charged silence.

“Ok, Danno, I got it. You need this, so I got your back. Whatever you need. Hey, I gotta head out, but I’ll call again, alright?” Steve sounded like he was happy for Danny but wasn’t quite believing it.

Danny replied, “Sure. Bye, babe.”

Steve said clearly, “I love you, Danny.”

“You too.” Danny croaked out. When the call ended, he dropped his phone next to him and covered his face with his hands taking in a few deep breaths.

It was time to find who he was again without Steve.

+++++++

Danny finally completed his eight weeks of PT, and his doctor okayed his return to light work aka paperwork. He still had to check in each month since it was his second gunshot wound in his chest in two years. As part of his process to return to Five-O, the governor mandated Danny to complete visits with his therapist since he survived such a traumatic experience. At first, he was annoyed he had to go to therapy again; he’d rather eat pineapple on his pizza. But during the couple of months of sessions about his kidnapping and near death at the hands of Daiyu Mei, he found himself working through various issues including the death of his partner Grace, his guilt over Matty, his complicated relationship with Rachel, Grace’s kidnapping and almost fatal car accident, Charlie’s paternity and medical condition, as well as other work related stresses and traumas. The governor’s directive for Danny’s therapy was once a week for two months, but he continued past that, and for a few weeks, he was going twice a week. He just unloaded whatever was burdening his mind and heart. He felt stronger for it. He even told the therapist about his feelings for Steve, and she suggested that to find closure or peace about it, he should consider discussing his feelings with Steve. Danny knew she was right but wasn’t ready yet. However, talking things out gave him the perspective he needed.

With the end of PT and his ongoing therapy doing well, he told the kids first he was moving out of Steve’s house. They were shocked, Tani near tears while Junior took the news stoically. But once Danny told them why, they were very supportive and helped Danny move to his now renovated place over two weekends. Lou, Quinn, and Adam also chipped in their time to help with Danny’s move. Since Junior moved in with Tani, they figured out a schedule of who would check on Steve’s place and when including the upkeep of the grounds. Junior and Tani told Danny once he was cleared for regular work, he could share some of the maintenance duties. They'd take care of it for now. Tani joked that maybe they could get Kamekona to hire some of his family. Danny rolled his eyes and smacked her. None of them had enough money for that enterprise.

Eddie was another story. Poor guy was just adapting to his master being gone. Now they were relocating him. Danny decided Eddie would live with him, and Junior would take him as time allowed since he loved Eddie, too. It was a good arrangement, as the loyal dog loved each of them. And he enjoyed the extra attention he was getting.

Danny felt like things were starting to get back to the new normal without Steve while he was at work doing paperwork and running point for any cases from HQ if needed. He surprised himself that he got the hang of the HQ computer table after getting lots of help from the team. Quinn was especially patient, and he appreciated it.

While Danny settled back at work, he still kept in contact with Steve. His best friend would mostly text him to check in with how things were going and send some pictures of gorgeous landscapes and appetizing food. When they did talk on the phone here and there, Steve would catch Danny up on things with him. Danny winced when Steve spoke about Catherine, but tried to sound as supportive as possible. He had to keep reminding himself that if Steve was happy with her, he would just have to accept it. And during one of these phone calls, Danny promised himself that he needed to start dating again. He may be in love with Steve, but he also owed it to himself to move forward and not spend the rest of his life pining after his best friend who was happy with the love of his life.

In a bold move, he asked Adam to be his wingman, explaining he needed to shake things up. He wanted to reclaim who he was before Daiyu Mei and even before his last disastrous attempt to get back with Rachel. What he left unspoken was his need to reinvent himself without Steve.

Adam didn’t even raise an eyebrow and had replied, “You got it, brother. You were there for me when I was lost without Kono, so I’m here for you.”

Danny was so grateful. They went to nice bars, the types professionals patronize. Danny did score dates with some doctors, lawyers, and accountants. He surprised Adam by dating both men and women, but after that initial shock, Adam supported his choices, even offering to set Danny up with friends. He even went on a few double dates with Adam and Tamiko. The companionship was nice, and the sex even nicer, but Danny didn’t feel like any of these people would help him get over Steve. At least he felt like his life was more balanced and not just focused on Steve all the time.

When he first mentioned to Steve that he was dating again, there was a silence long enough that Danny thought the call dropped. He could easily FaceTime Steve but just could not find the courage to see his beloved face again. The phone calls offered distance, a buffer. And Danny needed it so he could continue to support Steve and survive his updates when they included Catherine.

Just when Danny was ready to ask his best friend if he could hear him, an exaggeratedly upbeat Steve jumped back in.

“Hey, buddy, I’m glad you’re getting out there again. You deserve to be happy, too.” His voice cracked on the last bit.

After that last odd tone from Steve, they continued like normal when Danny filled him in on the latest with Grace and Charlie. The rest of the call was pleasant with some of their usual teasing.

But on the next call when Danny mentioned how he and Keith went on a double date with Adam and Tamiko, Steve choked and started coughing on the phone.

“Hey, babe, you ok? Don’t choke on the butter in your coffee, alright?” Danny joked.

Steve got his breath back and said, “Sorry, went down the wrong tube. Wait, so you’re dating guys now, Danny?”

Danny didn’t care for Steve’s tone, but answered, “Well, I did date a few guys back in college, but just stopped once I met Rachel.” He didn’t mention and once I met you. “Is that gonna be a problem for you, Steven?”

Steve quickly responded, “Of course not, Danny. I’m just shocked you never told me this in the over ten years we’ve known each other. And for the record, it’d be hypocritical of me if it was.”

Now it was Danny’s turn to gasp. “Wait, when the hell were you dating guys, Steve? In all the years we’ve been together, you’ve only talked about women.”

Sighing, Steve said, “Well, I didn’t really date guys, Danny. When I was deployed, I helped my teammates out like they helped me. So to be more specific, I’ve had sex with guys, but not actually dated them. I enjoyed the sex and was even attracted to some of the guys, but DADT kept me from being open about being sexually attracted to men.”

Danny couldn’t help himself. “Did Cath know?”

Steve chuckled briefly. “Of course, man. I told her I slept with several men and was attracted to some. She was cool with it since she had some bi friends and family.”

Danny admired Steve’s honesty, and he wanted to be honest, too.

“Steve, dating these men and women - it’s nothing serious. Don’t get me wrong, the company and sex are great, but they don’t compare to you.”

It sounded like Steve sniffled on the other end of the line. His voice was slightly hoarse. “And just so you know, partner, no one will ever replace you. No one can. Hey, we gotta grab some food…”

Danny teased, “Try not to ruin your food with pineapple, you animal. Enjoy your meal.”

Snickering, Steve added, “Copy that.”

Steve’s voice became sincere again. “I’ll call you again soon, Danno. I love you.”

Automatically, Danny replied, “You, too.”

Steve’s breath hitched before saying, “I miss you, Danny. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Danny exhaled, “I miss you, too. Bye, babe.”

Once Danny placed his phone down, he was like, good going Williams. You almost told him you’re in love with him while Cath was right there. Don’t be an idiot next time.

+++++++

It had been a week since that eye-opening phone call and about six months since Steve left, Danny had been back to regular responsibilities at work for about a month. His therapy sessions were twice a month now. He was still seeing people but didn’t feel the desperation to date like when he first started a few months ago. He felt confident in his own skin again, feeling better both professionally and personally. But he was still in love with Steve. Danny finally decided. Fuck it. I’ll always love the maniac, I just have to live with it.

And it came to a head during one of their phone calls almost two months later.

Danny couldn’t keep himself from asking, “You happy with Cath, Steve?”

There was a pause before Steve said, “I wouldn’t know. She left about two months ago on another CIA assignment. She offered to come back when her job was over, but I told her that I need stability and consistency and her work didn’t provide that. I said I was proud that she found her way and happy for her that she loved her job. I told her that I would always love her, but she deserved someone who was in love with her.”

Danny’s heart sped up with hope. “So, what are you saying, Steve?”

Steve pushed air through his nose. “I’m saying that I couldn’t commit to her because I’m in love with you.”

“Steve…?” Danny’s voice shook with emotion.

“Danny, every time I told you I love you when we ended our calls, I meant it as I’m in love with you. You never repeated it to me so I assumed you didn’t feel the same way. But once you told me you dated guys, I got hopeful again. And after that phone call, I stopped sleeping with Cath. And she knew something was up with the no sex but never called me on it. That’s just not what we do. Things are easy for us, and when they’re not, we still pretend that they are. But my heart couldn’t just be satisfied with what was easy and familiar anymore. I needed the challenge and passion. I need you.”

Danny confessed, “Babe, I’m in love with you, too. I just couldn’t tell you since I thought you had your happily ever after with Catherine. When I figured you guys were permanent, I dated to move on without you. But it’s no use, Steve. I want you. I want everything with you.”

Choked with emotion, Steve whispered, “Danny.. I’m coming home.”

“I’m so glad, babe. I love you.”

+++++++

Two days later, Danny was at baggage claim. He spotted Steve immediately, tall and gorgeous with a full beard and short but longer than military regulation hair. Steve saw him too, and his face lit up with a huge smile that crinkled his eyes. They moved quickly through the crowd to each other. As he got closer, Danny spotted the specks of white in Steve’s hair and thought it just made his big goof even more handsome. Finally, they were in front of each other. Dropping his duffel, Steve wrapped his arms around Danny hugging him tightly. He tucked his face into Danny’s hair and inhaled deeply.

“Danno, I missed you so much.”

Danny just squeaked out a “me too” while he hugged Steve. He was too busy inhaling the travel worn scent of Steve. He couldn’t get enough of the man he loved. He rubbed his face into Steve’s chest, reveling in the physical presence he had wanted so much all these months and at long last had.

They moved so their foreheads were resting against each other. Breathing the same air, not aware of the bustle of the people around them.

Danny broke their peaceful bubble by moving his face away so he could look into Steve’s eyes. “Did you find the peace you needed, babe?”

Huffing and licking his lips, Steve shook his head. His left hand held Danny’s face as his gaze never wavered. “Not yet, but I’m working on it. I know I’ll get there with therapy and what I need most.”

Danny tilted his head questioningly at Steve.

“You.”

Then Steve kissed Danny. Eyes fluttering closed, Danny returned the kiss. Like this thing they were doing happened every day.

Feeling a surge of joy, Danny broke the kiss with a smile. Smiling himself, Steve opened his eyes.

“I think I need you to repeat yourself, I didn’t quite hear you,” Danny said with a smirk as he pulled Steve down again. This time, the kiss was firmer. Danny nipped Steve's bottom lip and he opened his mouth. Always the control freak, Steve cupped Danny's face so he could move him where he wanted. He hummed contentedly as he tasted Danny. A couple times, their teeth clacked, but their tongues soothed the minor mishaps. The frantic exploration continued until they needed air.

Eyes opening and panting a bit as their lips parted, they grinned at each other goofily.

“I think we gave the airport enough of a show, babe.” Danny joked.

Steve chuckled. He sobered a bit and said, “Danny, I love you.”

Danny smiled brightly as his heart thudded happily. “I love you, too, Steve. Let’s go home.”

“And where is that exactly?” Steve asked mischievously.

“Wherever you and I are together.” Danny replied quickly.

Appeased, Steve grabbed his bag and slung it on his left shoulder. He pulled Danny under his right arm as they walked to the car.

Danny with Steve. Strong on their own. Strongest together.

FIN.

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette Vs Santa: The Rematch

Seven people requested a continuation of the Part 1 and I just gave in. I hope you like. I’m not big on writing sequels. So please let me know if its good.

When the news broke that billionaire Bruce Wayne’s daughter Marinette was dating the Roy, the son of billionaire Oliver Queen, it was like the world paused.

It was bigger than Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.

Bigger than the royal wedding; both of them.

Bigger than the twilight love affair.

The Angel Marinette, the newfound princess of Gotham, dating the wayward Bad boy Roy, the prince of Star City.

Roy was handsome, really smart, funny, had a kickass attitude, played guitar and soccer, and loved animals; at least that’s what Jason told her Because Marinette had never met the guy.

People were betting on when they’d get married, have kids, what they’d name them…

And Marinette doesn’t even know the guy. I never had a single conversation with him.

Now Jason wanted her to… What?

“Come on!” Jason begged. “Just let him take you to the ball.”

           Marinette sat at her desk, with arms cross, glaring furiously at her brother, as she contemplated murder. “No.”

           Jason tossed his hands up in the air, “He’s really great. You’d like him.”

“I don’t care if reveals he’s actually Tom Holland ala Hannah Montana style,” Marinette growled. “No.”

“He’s in a bind,” Jason pleaded with his sister, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes, he could muster. “His dad’s been giving him a lot of grief lately about him going to college and taking over the company one day and the bad press he’s been getting. Once Roy said he was taking Wayne’s princess to the ball, it stopped.”

“Why did he even say it?” Marinette yelled.

“He’s a moron!” Jason yelled back. “But he’s my best friend. He’s rich. He’s handsome. He comes from a great family. He’s strong. Gotta nice bad boy thing going on. A motorcycle. Sorta mysterious. How could you not want to date him?”

Marinette chuckled, “Maybe because I’m starting to think you might be.” She eyed him. “If this you two using me as a beard or whatever, cool. But Bruce Wayne and Oliver queen both been seen with Male lovers, I don’t think they’d mind…”

Jason glared at her, “I’m not dating Roy. Redheaded dudes are a little creepy.”

“Are they now?” Yeah, Marinette thought, really selling.

           Jason pinched his nose, “Didn’t you ever wanna be Cinderella? Go to the ball with the Prince? Roy is that prince. The only one above him would be an actual prince. I thought all little girls did? Can you do it, please? For me?”

           That’s when Marinette remembered the first time she saw Disney’s Cinderella. She had been six. It was Christmas. She had fallen instantly in love with the movie, the dress, the songs, the prince so much so that she talked about being Cinderella to her parents. Her dad just laughed and told her to write Santa. Ask him to make you Cinderella.

           And so six-year-old Marinette did.

           And now nearly ten years later, staring at her brother, she now knew… Santa had a hit list. It was the only explanation. Santa was gunning for her. Seeing what it took to break her. Finally, get her on the naughty list. Be careful what you wish for after all.

“I want to meet him,” Marinette said slowly with a defeated sigh.

“Yes!” Jason cheered. “I know the Cinderella thing would work.”

           Marinette glared, “You know I know at actual prince right? Prince Ali.”

“No! Wait! We can talk about this!”

“Kidding.”

“Thank god,” Jason sighed in relief. “Oh, you can’t tell Bruce its fake.”

           Marinette closed her, counted to ten, and stopped herself from screaming the only thing on her mind: FUCK SANTA.

           The Tsurugi house had been tense since Kagami returned from school. Her grandparents had expressed their approval of her befriend Wayne’s youngest daughter. Kagami’s mother had been pleased that they would be receiving an invitation to the Wayne New Year’s ball.

           They had been waiting all day for the invite to come. Both mother and daughter anxiously doing all they could to avoid waiting by the door.

           When the doorbell rang, Kagami had to force herself not to run for it.

Discipline, she thought, control.

           Her mother’s assistant announced, “Miss Wayne is here, Lady Kagami.”

           Yes, she was. Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne curtsied gracefully, “Mrs. Tsurugi. Kagami. I hope you are well this evening.”

           Light, polite, took place after that. Her mother almost smiled in approval at Marinette.

           When Marinette finally handed the invitation over, “I do hope you can attend,” She said. “I apologize for the short notice.”

           Mrs. Tsurugi bowed. “It would be an honor to attend.”

“We look forward to it,” Kagami added.

“I… admit I have always wanted to go the Wayne’s Ball,” The older woman admitted the barest hint of a smile on her face. “One thing off my Christmas list, I suppose.”

           At this, Marinette beamed, a vindictive pleasure coursed through. Yes, she wanted to his, Kiss my ass, Santa.

           Going to Chloe’s was… interesting for Marinette. She hadn’ t even had the chance to knock on the penthouse door before Chloe had ripped it opened.

“Mama,” She called. “Marinette’s here.”

           That was all the signal needed, for Audrey Bourguis to throw opened both doors of her office, “Ahh Marinette. How lovely to see you, darling.”

           If Marinette had been a little meaner, she would have admitted that the scene was felt oddly similar to what it was like to see the stepsisters in Cinderella get the invitations to the ball. Chloe had been her bully, and she hadn’t changed all that much.

“Thank you for having me,” Marinette said easily. She presented the invitation. “I hope you can go,” She told Chloe and her mother honestly. “I could use more friends there.”

           Chloe’s eyes softened despite the look of the annoyance on her face, “Of course we’re going.”

“Agreed,” Audrey said. “Everyone who is anyone is going. And we are most definitely anyone. The question is what are we wearing? Classic ball gown. Or a modern princess. What are you wearing? Everyone wants to know.”

“Roy Queen on her arm,” Chloe giggled.

           Audrey smiled, her first real smile of the day, “Now that is quite the handsome accessory, bravo.”

           They discussed fashion choices and who is supposed to be wearing who. All while Marinette dodged every attempt from Audrey to design her dress for the ball. And the older woman had been determined.

           It was a harrowing experience. If Chloe hadn’t been her new best friend, Marinette would’ve given in to the desire to rip back the invite and tear it shreds.

           As she was living, Audrey said, “I was always dreamed about it; the Wayne New Years’ ball,” It was said with a lovingness and dreamy voice that neither Chloe or Marinette had ever heard her use before. “When I was a little girl, I would watch every year and just dream about it. I envied and critiqued over dresses. When I was really little, I used to ask Santa to go every year. I’d even design my own dress; every year. Its why I got into fashion. I was a little girl who dreamed about her own ball gown.”

Marinette would leave the penthouse, walk outside where her driver waited, and before she got into the car, she stared at the Christmas decorations. At the robotic Santa waving, and whisper lowly, “We’ll call this a tie.”

But the fight wasn’t over.

           Luka had no idea what to do with the invitation. Neither did his mother. Sure, they had heard about the Wayne ball but Juleka had Rose whispering in her ear so she made sure that her brother accepted.

“This is a favor to me,” Marinette pleaded. “Father will pay for the trip, for the expenses. Luka is my friend, and I would like him there. With you all of course.”

           Juleka begged her mother, “Please! Rose said this a once in a lifetime experience.”

           Luka eyed his sister but shrugged, “I’m in. What are friends for? He is your brother Tim single?”

What did you just say to me, punk? Marinette nearly snapped. She knew, of course, that Luka always had a celebrity crush on Tim Drake-Wayne. He even put jokingly put a kiss under the mistletoe with Tim Drake on his shopping list. But it was different now that Tim was her brother. Marinette needed her friends on her side; her family was insane. And she swore if Luka spent the entire Ball mooning over Tim, she was going to fly to the North Pole and shove her foot right up Santa’s…

“I won’t know anyone,” Anarka finally said interrupting Marinette’s thought. “It’ll be all boring people listening to classical music.”

“Oh!” Marinette straightened up. “Jagged Stone will be there,” She said brightly.

           The glare she got from Luka’s mother could’ve been weaponized.

           Marinette left their house feeling a bit shook.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” She heard and saw Santa impersonator walking on the street.

           Marinette’s eyes narrowed. A less person would’ve just taken him out, she knew. But Paparazzi was everywhere, and for once that was the only thing stopping her. Not being nice or polite.

No, Marinette raged inwardly, that time was over.

           Instead, she shot him a glare, “Score one for you.”

           The next day at school was even worse than the day before… Paparazzi wise.

“Marinette! Marinetti,” A lady from seventeen magazines yelled. “What was your first date like with Roy? Was it Romanic? Did you kiss him? Is he a good kisser?”

           Marinette ignored them all as her father walked her into school again; this time with Tim and Cassandra.

“Bruce! What do you think of your daughter dating someone two years older than her?” Bruce stiffened.

“How long have you been dating the Queen heir?”

“Have you had sex yet?”

“What is he wearing the ball?”

           The questions went on and on.

           Marinette got to class and all but collapsed in her seat with a huff. This was too much. Her papa had assured her it would calm down soon.

“It will get better,” Kagami assured.

           Chloe patted her back comfortingly, “Paparazzi are so invasive.”

           Alix snorted, “What do you know about it.”

“Her mother is Style Queen,” Marinette answered before Chloe could. “One of the leading faces in fashion today; she can make or break a designer; start trends and end them. Everyone knows her name. Her face. She is the Devil’s Wears Prada: Miranda Presley of our world. Chloe was born with paparazzi wanting to know if her diaper was designer.”

           Her classmates were shocked at her defense of the blonde.

“And for the record,” Chloe said sounding pleased. “They were.”

“What’s it like dating Roy Queen,” Rose asked excitedly, ignoring the tenseness of the room like she was always doing. “He’s so dreamy. Did you know I have him on my bedroom wall?”

           Yes, Marinette did know. She helped decorate.

“Like a dream come true,” Marinette said with a forced smile.

Because like the most dreams, some crazy person made it up, She thought. Jason. Jason made it up.

“Do you think you’ll get married,” Mylene asked giving heart eyes to Ivan who blushed.

           Marinette was about to answer when she noticed Alya’s phone was out, and she looked way to interested what Marinette was saying.

“I didn’t give permission for an interview,” She said. “Or for permission to have my conversation recorded as is required by law.”

“You never minded before,” Alya pointed out. “This could be huge for my blog.”

           Marinette rolled her eyes, “No one knew I was a Wayne before. I have to be careful now.”

“Someone who knows you should give an inside scoop,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “Let people know what you’re really like, what you’re really thinking. We can do an interview right now!”

“Class is about to start,” Chloe sneered.

           Kagami glared, “Delete it or hear from our lawyers.”

           Adrien stood up, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh.” Some of the other students nodded. “She doesn’t mean it harm.”

“I don’t care what she meant,” Marinette snapped. “I will not have private conversations on display for the world to hear. It's an invasion.” She told him and looked back at her once best friend. “Delete the recording from your phone.”

           Alya crossed her arms, a petulant look appeared on her face, “I already posted it on my blog,” She said smugly. “Too late now.”

“Delete it,” Kagami and Chloe chimed together.

           Alya stood her ground and sent them a look similar to what Rena Rouge sent Akumas, “No! It’s my private property,” She snapped, and she sent a smirk at Marinette. “You can’t make me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Marinette asked. “It’s your last chance.”

“This is my blog,” Alya said.

“Then prepare to see it burn.”

           All Marinette wanted for Christmas last year was for Chat Noir to leave her alone and for Alya to wake up, stop listening to Lila and reporting false news about Ladybug.

           Before the bell rang for lunch, Alya’s screech could be heard for miles. The Ladyblog was gone. Her mom had deleted it. Well not deleted the website but deleted everything on it. It had been an accident. Alya’s mom had been desperate to delete the interview of Marinette as quickly as possible. After realized what she had done, she quickly went to school to talk with her daughter.

“Why?” Alya had demanded in tears.

“Why?” Her mother shouted back. “Do you even know what you’ve done? What could happen to you? To your family?”

Her parents were furious. They had gotten a cease and desist Bruce Wayne’s lawyers, a notice that the Ladyblog was being sued for invasion privacy. Officer Raincomprix had shown up to let the know Alya was being hit with criminal charges; it was illegal to record a private conversation without permission for public use; even more so if it involved a minor.

Four hours. It took four hours for the Ladyblog to go up in flames.

The akuma had not been pleasant to deal with. But surprisingly, it wasn’t Alya. It was her mother; scared to death that her daughter had pissed off one of the richest family’s in the world and might have destroyed her own.

           Alya left school early that day, and wouldn’t come back for the rest of the week.

           Marinette counted that a win in the “Fuck Santa” Category. She could get her own freaking Christmas presents.

           Marinette had been sitting with Kagami and Chloe, enjoying lunch in the cafeteria when suddenly all the noise stopped. A needle dropping would be heard.

“Babe,” A voice shouted.

           Every hair on Marinette’ s body froze. What were the chances that an overly loud voice that sounded so familiar, so like how Roy Queen sounded in every video she ever saw of him, wasn’t actually Roy Queen?

No. It couldn’t be, she thought, Not even Santa’s that cruel.

           She glanced behind her and tried not to groan. It was Roy Queen alright. Red hair, handsome face, smug ‘kick me in the teeth’ smile. He was gorgeous. The exact type she’d been into. He had a bouquet of red roses and what looked to be expensive chocolates.

           That was when suddenly she remembered how much she wished for the same scenario. For her boyfriend, imaginary at the time, to surprise during school just because. When she was eleven, it was a Christmas wish on a star. (all her friends had boyfriends at the time; even if they only last two weeks at most.)

Another point for Jolly Saint Nick, she thought glumly.

           An arm went around her shoulder, “Miss Me,” Roy smirked as he pulled her into a hug.

           Marinette hugged him back tightly, a pleasant grin on her face, masking her true feelings, “I’m going to kill you,” She whispered. She kissed him softly on the cheek. “And I’m not even going to make it look like an accident.”

           She wasn’t entirely sure if she was talking to him or Santa Clause; maybe both.

           The smile was on Roy’s face as he pulled away, “You are definitely Jason’s sister.” He looked her up and down. “So… want to ditch school?”

           Marinette sighed, “Fuck Santa.”

           She didn’t care who heard now.

           Marinette did not skip school. Roy did pick her up from school, on a motorcycle. The pictures were being recycled on the news.

           All three of her parents were furious. Marinette had barely managed to get out of being grounded.

Santa would not beat her. She would not end up on the fat guy’s naughty list. Unless the reason was that she was standing over his cold, dead corpse.

“Okay,” Marinette said as she paced her bedroom. “I’m losing it.”

“You’re fine,” Tikki promised. “This time year gets to everyone. It will get better.”

“He’s persecuting me,” The bluenette.

           Tikki sighed at her chosen’s antics, “Santa is not after you.”

           Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Her bedroom door swung open, Tim rushed in looking a mess and beyond frazzled, “Tell me you can sing?” He shouted. “Doesn’t matter. I told everyone that you’re singing at the ball. It’s gonna be great.” And then he ran from the room.

           It went silent.

“Coward!” She yelled after him        

Marinette recalled her desire, her wish to finally overcome her shyness, her stage fright. She recalled the time fainted during a choir rehearsal for the Christmas pageant. She had been eight-years-old and vowed to never sing publicly.

“…Maybe Santa is out to get you,” Tikki said bluntly who knew all about Marinette’s fear of singing.

           Tim suddenly ran back in the room, “You’re having dinner with Roy and his parents tomorrow.” He said. “And Dad wants you to meet the Justice League. Have fun.” And he was gone.

“Fuck. Santa!” She screamed.

[fallstreakfeathers]

Don’t Look Down, Chapter 2, Rating: T ~4100 words Warnings: none https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956846/chapters/60761470

If Kita thought the brightness of the moon was overbearing inside the extravagant building, it was nothing compared to being in its direct path. She squinted against the pale beams as she stepped out of the doorway after the white haired demon. His pace was fast, as if he was trying to lose her, and she had to take two or three steps for his every one. She could hear him grumbling lowly about something, but couldn’t be bothered to listen closer. In fact, she wished he’d just close his stupid, too-loud mouth. The soft calls of some kind of animal hidden in the treeline caught her attention and she slowed herself to peer through the ever looming darkness, not that it was overly difficult with the moon hanging in the sky like some kind of sentinel. The green leaves swayed lightly in the breeze. The wind sent small ripples through the field of grass. It was only then that she noticed the scent of living plantlife. A group of small creatures fluttered from the branches, startled by the couple trespassing below them. She blinked slowly. Birds? There was not a trace of sulfur, fire, or death on the air. She stepped over a group of small blue flowers she couldn’t identify. The spotted leaves were jagged, with some sort of liquid oozing from the stems. “Hey, human! What’re ya staring at? Ya never seen flowers before? Pick up the pace!”

Kita said nothing as she placed her footsteps a bit faster. She kept her head down, abandoning her plan to run as light from the lamps that lined the streets glowed bright against the wet pavement. “Can’t believe those jerks left me to babysit you alone.” There’s no way she’d get out of here without knowing where she was going. Did she really expect things to be that easy? Of course not, only an idiot would think that. I’m an idiot. She felt like a prisoner being escorted to her own execution, and the feeling was only made stronger as she caught the curious and hungry eyes of various demons on the streets. Those in the lights of the street appeared human, or mostly so, but a few hid in the shadows and their forms shifted and flittered as they stared. One of these feral creatures approached the group, prowling like some kind of cat, only to scamper away when Mammon growled a guttural, throaty sound. Kita cringed. The short display almost reminded her of those silly groups of kids in her school years who pretended to be dogs or sometimes horses. Of course, she was the local velociraptor in those days, and occasionally a Tyrannosaur. The only difference was the very real threat behind the noise bubbling from the demon’s chest. “You were full of piss n’ vinegar earlier, what’s with the silence?” She released a heavy breath as she continued to pretend he didn’t exist. Earlier she was terrified, now she was just exhausted. If she stayed quiet and kept her head down, if she didn’t make eye contact, then everything would be fine. He’d eventually leave her alone. That’s how it always was. She sneered at the demon that glanced at her ever-so-often and the not-so-quite grumbling that traveled back to her on the wind as they stopped in front of a swooping steel gate with a dry “we’re here.” Kita squinted at the towering building behind it. The mansion almost appeared to have multiple shacks stacked on top of it, along with castle-like spires. Beside it stood a tall, black tree with branches that reached towards the moon. The whole area looked like something out of an old vampire movie. So… demons really like over-the-top crap? Mammon placed his hands on the gate, pushing it open. It swung wide with a creak. “I don’t believe this,” he muttered, “of all the rotten, unfair luck.” She rolled her eyes while he continued to complain with his hands on his hips. “Why do I have to look after some stupid human? It’s insulting! And just so we’re clear, it’s not like I can’t say no to Lucifer, alright!?” Kita sighed, remembering once more that she not only had to survive the year in an entirely different world, but also was going to have to deal with 7 demon lords who, if they were consistent, were all over-dramatic assholes. What did she do to anger God enough that he’d allow this sort of misfortune? “I only agreed to babysit you because…” he babbled “... well. Um, you know...uh…” “I don’t care,” she whispered wearily.

“What?” the demon shouted, “oh! Now you’re really in for it you stupid… although I’m sorta surprised you’ve got the guts to talk to me like that. You should be scared.” What about her behavior implied that she wasn’t? Did she really come off as if she were delighted to be in his presence? “I mean, I’m a demon. Even a human would get that, right?”

She pushed past him onto the stone path that led to the doorsteps of the mansion What makes you any more dangerous than literally anything I could be killed by in my own world? “You’re seriously weird,” he shook his head as he pushed the door open, “whatever, come on then.” Kita glanced around the heavily decorated hallway as the door clicked shut behind her. The high walls were patterned with purple and silver paper. A long plush carpet led from the front entrance and under a wooden archway into another room. A cheery fireplace could be seen at the far end of the room, glinting off the polished wood floors and filling the area with a sweet, smoky scent. Two dragon-like gargoyles stood guard at the front of the hall, with a marble staircase winding behind them both, up into another hall. All in all, the two rooms alone looked like they cost more than she’d ever make in her lifetime. Kita felt even more out of place than she had on the Devildom streets. “This is the House of Lamentation,” Mammon said. He waved vaguely at the space around them, “it’s one of the dorms here at R.A.D.” Yes. It wasn’t like the prince hadn’t clarified that at least four times. “Well, not just one of the dorms. It’s the dorm reserved for student council members.” Kita simply nodded. The sooner he finished talking, the sooner she’d be taken to her room and then (hopefully) left alone. “The others take every opportunity to insult me,” he prattled, as he led her through the hall “callin’ me scum and money-grubber and shit like that… But I’m an officer on the student council too! The elite of the elite. Top of the social pyramid.” He turned to her. “In other words, I’m a big shot! A real big shot! Even regular big shots are impressed by what a big shot I am!” Big ego is more like it. “By the way, Diavolo is even more of a big shot. He’s so important he’s got his own castle.” “I figured he would...you all call him ‘prince’.” If I have to hear the words ‘big shot’ one more time, I’m finding a thesaurus and throwing it at his stupid face. “Right… anyway, the long and short of it is that us seven brothers live here together and-...hey, what's with that expression? If you’ve got somethin’ to say, you’d best do it now.” Kita blinked. Was she making weird looks? “Sorry,” she muttered, “you all call each other ‘brothers’ but you look nothing like each other.”

“That’s really what you’re wonderin’ about? We aren’t brothers in the human sense,” he shrugged, “it’s more like we share a title, we’ve fought together, live together, yadda yadda, ya get it?” “Sure.” “Seriously, you got a personality thing or somethin’?”

Does he ever shut up?

“Doesn’t matter, “ he continued, “I’m gonna give you a piece of advice, and you’d better listen up 'cause I won’t repeat myself.”

She spotted movement from the corner of her eye as the demon spoke, and she glanced to the staircase where another demon stalked down the marble steps. His eyes burned an angry yellow-orange that peeked out from under the light purple fringes of his hair. He was clearly taller than her. Of course he was. Were demons just naturally this tall? “If you ever find yourself in a situation where you’re about to be attacked by a demon, you need to either run or just die.” What? Kita gawked at him in disbelief. The yellow-eyed demon reached the bottom step, glaring as he continued to move behind Mammon. “Are you serious?!” “Yes.” Kita frowned and then snorted. “So just die, then?” “Actually, I vote for you to die, Mammon!”

“Ah! Levi!” the demon yelped, “didn’t see ya there. I...Uhh...L-Listen up here, human! This here is Leviathan, Avatar of Envy. He’s the third oldest of us brothers.” The demon grinned brightly as he spoke, “his name’s sorta hard to say, so you can just call him Levi!” “Uh...no thanks,” Kita deadpanned. Nicknames were reserved for friends. Nicknames meant something. They were special, and not to be given to people who didn’t want to be around her in the first place. She refused to call anyone who wasn’t at least a friend anything short of their name. Besides, ‘Leviathan’ really wasn’t that difficult to pronounce. “Suit yourself.” “Mammon, give me back my money,” Leviathan growled, “then go crawl in a hole and die!” Woah. That was...unnecessary. Kita’s eyebrows scrunched as he flung insults at the white haired demon. “I’ll get it to you, I already told ya. I just need more time,” Mammon shrugged. “More time?! You’ve been telling me you need ‘more time’ for the last two hundred years!” She nearly choked on her spit. Two hundred years? These people were at least two hundred years old? “Hey, no! It’s been two hundred and sixty,” Mammon corrected, “get it right.” This got a small, amused laugh out of her and she quickly covered her mouth as the two demons turned their attention to her. For creatures supposedly hundreds of years old, they sure acted like children. Leviathan shook his head as he grumbled. “Seriously, Mammon, you’re-” “I’m what?” he snapped, “scum? Is that what you’re gonna say?” “You’re a lowlife and a waste of space,” the Avatar of Envy finished with a snarl. Alright, now I just feel kinda bad for him. Kita winced. Nobody should have to deal with being spoken to like that, especially by their own family… brother-in-arms? Sharer of titles? Whatever. “I couldn’t pay you back anyway, I don’t have the money.” “So you’re saying you refuse to pay me back?” “You lookin’ for a fight? Is that it?!” Oh my God. I’m gonna have to listen to this for an entire year. Mammon suddenly turned to Kita again. “Hey, human. Ya know how I told you what to do when a demon attacks? You’re about to witness that for real so…” he paused for a moment, “time for you to die, ‘cause if it’s gonna be you or me, it ain’t gonna be me!” “Wait,” Leviathan said, “ I thought you said-” Mammon smirked at her, and almost as fast as she could blink, he disappeared up the stairs. “-that asshole! He ran off!” Leviathan shook his head in disappointment. “You get what happened, right? He used you as a sacrifice.” “Somehow, that does not surprise me,” Kita snorted. “I’ll admit that Mammon is one of the scummiest scumbags you’ll ever meet,” the demon said, “a total lowlife, but that was still pretty dumb of you for letting him use you like that, I mean this is exactly why humans are-” For the love of all that is holy...unholy...do they all talk this much? “Wait!” he exclaimed, “ you’re human! That gives me an idea.” Why did she feel like this was a bad thing? “Can it wait until tomorrow?” she asked gingerly. “Nope. You’re coming with me!” Kita yelped as his hand suddenly gripped her sleeve and he began dragging her up the stairs with him. “Let go,” she barked, pushing her heels into the floor in an attempt to force him to stop. “Quiet!” he hissed as he halted in front of a door. He glanced around nervously before tugging her inside and closing the door. She twisted around, preparing a few choice words regarding her treatment before stopping with her mouth open like a fish out of water. The room she’d been so unceremoniously dragged into was like something out of her wildest dreams. Light shined through what looked like it might be a pool in the ceiling, sending rippled reflections across the tiled floor. Luminescent jellyfish hung vertically, leading down to a porcelain tub with what appeared to be a body pillow laying in it. An enormous aquarium had been slotted into the wall. Coral and various plants poked out of the sandy bottom, and it seemed silly that the only occupant of a tank with such magnitude was a small goldfish.

That was to say nothing of the enormous amount of manga and various figurines placed around the room. In the corner sat what had to be the most computers she’d ever seen in a single house. It... It was pretty badass, she had to admit.

“This is your bedroom?” she asked incredulously. “Uh.. Yeah.” “It’s beautiful.” Leviathan nodded once. “You want to know why I looked around to see if anyone was looking before I closed the door?” “Not particularly but I can take a few guesses.” “Well why do you think I did it? Not that it isn’t totally obvious. Imagine what would happen if someone saw me invite you into my room!” he rambled, “a human who doesn’t even look like an otaku! A normie! Do you know what people would say?” Oh no, he’s one of those kinds. “I don’t honestly care, sorry.” “You should! It’d be insane!” Kita murmured a snide comment to herself as she wandered over to the tall bookshelf by the door. She peered curiously at the unfamiliar, often ridiculously long titles before a thick book with black leather and silver trim caught her attention. “What, human? What are you looking at?” Kita pointed at the book, making sure she didn’t touch it. “Oh, that's The Tale of the Seven Lords! Are you a fan of that too?” He sounded almost...excited? “Not at the moment. I don’t know that we even have it in the human world,” she apologized. “What’s it about?” She must’ve asked something right if the way the demon’s eyes lit up were any indication. “You don’t know TSL? And you call yourself a human?!” “Actually, I call myself ‘Kita’,” she snarked, “you lot seem to be the ones set on the ‘human’ bit.” “Listen, just the fact that you don’t know TSL alone is proof that you’ve been wasting your life!” “Do enlighten me on what I’ve missed,” she snorted. There was something about this one that made him slightly easier to talk to than the others she’d met so far- not that she could put a finger on what it was.

“The Tale of the Seven Lords, TSL, is a series of fantasy novels written by Cristopher Peugeot. It’s a heroic spanning 138 volumes, and the most widely read fantasy series in the world,” he began.

On, and on, and on some more the demon rambled about the book. Books. 138 of them? That was crazy. Do all demons talk this much? Honestly, that’d be true Hell, right there. Skip the burning and rending, just keep talking. Kita listened, not out of any particular interest so much as the excitement in the Avatars voice. She knew what it was like to try to talk to someone about something she liked, only to be ignored or shoved off. She wouldn’t be that person, even to a stranger who’d literally dragged her sorry ass up a flight of stairs. Besides, his energy was somewhat contagious, even if he’d been speaking for at least twenty minutes. “There’s that one really awesome moment where the two of them realize they both like and respect each other, and they high-five! I just love that part,” he jabbered, “I wish I could have a moment like that.” “I’m sure you will,” Kita said. “Wait, you’re still listening to me?” Leviathan gawked. Kita nodded. “Most people’s eyes would’ve glazed over by now…” he said, “uh...oh! Check it out,” he pointed to the aquarium. “See that goldfish there? His name’s Henry. I love TSL so much that I couldn’t help naming him after the main character. I can’t high-five a goldfish though.” “Well you can’t with that attitude,” Kita snickered.

Leviathan frowned, suddenly sullen. “You humans are so lucky,” he said, “you’ve got subscription services that let you watch any anime you want to, you can go to Akihabara whenever you want…” Aki-what? Ah, who cares. “Why do only you guys get to experience the good stuff? I mean humans’ whole concept of pleasure originally came from us demons, you know,” he whined,” so why can’t we take a little of that back now? I want to go to a Japanese maid cafe too, y’know? I want to cosplay as Henry, or go stand in the center of Akihabara, or maybe under that one building in Tokyo that’s shaped like upside-down triangles. Once I’m there, I want to perform Henry’s super powerful signature finishing move for all to see and say the incantation that goes with it!” Is he...Is he breathing? How is he saying all that in one breath?!

“Actually, you know what? I want to be Henry,” he finished.

“Screw normies,” Kita yawned, suddenly aware yet again that she’d been kept up far later than she thought was humane. Of course, these guys were demons. What was she expecting? “Yeah! Screw ‘em!”

The demon frowned again as he spoke. “Alright, enough. This is starting to depress me. I didn’t bring you here to tell you about TSL.” “I was wondering when that would be addressed,” Kita muttered quietly. “I don’t think there’s any harm in coming out and saying what you already know is true: Mammon is a complete, and utter scumbag.” “Got it.” Really, it didn't seem like demons had much of a vocabulary. Not that she had a great one either, but still. “It’s very important that you understand this, so I’ll say it one more time.” “No need, I assure you I understand perfectly. Just… get to the point,” she grumbled, “why am I in here?” “I lent that scumbag money and now I want it back, but being the scumbag that he is, he won’t do it.” “What do you expect me to do about it?” Kita asked, quickly losing patience. She was hungry, she was tired, she was stressed, and a hundred other things already. She wasn’t fond of the idea of spending another hour in the room. “You should probably know how Mammon and I first became enemies.” “I… No. Just get to the point, please,” she sighed. “Fine. As third born, I don’t have a chance to get my money back on my own,” he explained, “but if, say, a human made a pact with Mamon and bound him to their service…” he gave her a pointed look.

“No.” “What? Why not? He’d have to do whatever you told him!” “Not interested.”

“Is it the whole ‘selling your soul’ bit? That’s not always necessary, you know!” Leviathan argued, “it depends on what’s in the pact.” “Not. Interested.” “No, no, just listen, I’ll tell you how to negotiate with Mammon!” Oh, for the love of...

“It’d be useful for you to have him as your servant,” he assured, “despite how awful he is, he’s still very powerful! You’re probably worried being down here in the Devildom, so it’s not like it’s a bad deal for you. Don’t you agree?” “What makes you think I’d even be able to control him? I’m sure pacts aren’t as cut-and-dry as you’re trying to make them sound,” she disagreed. “You’ll do fine.” Sure I would, Kita snorted. She had the authoritative presence of a sea snail. If she couldn’t get other humans to listen to her, what hope did she have of commanding a demon? Much less a demon lord? She wasn’t sure she wanted that sort of power over another being anyway, no matter how obnoxious they were. “Listen,” Kita drawled as she rubbed her eyes, “I’ve had a very long, exhausting, somewhat upsetting day. If you could be so kind as to show me to wherever I’ll be holed up while I’m stuck here, I’ll give you an answer tomorrow when I’ve had time to think and maybe do a little research on what exactly a pact entails because there’s no way in Heaven or Hell that I’ll be doing anything like that until I know precisely how it all works.” Oh dear lord, was Leviathan’s rambling rubbing off on her? Did she take a breath?

“It’s only 3pm,” the demon stated.

“It’s dark.” “We don’t have a sunrise here,” Leviathan explained. What’s shining off the moon, then? Kita wanted to ask. 

She shook her head. It didn’t really matter. “Whatever. I’m still going to bed,” she said,” you can show me to my room or I'll just use the tub.” With a groan and something muttered about “normies”, Leviathan opened the door, motioning her to follow him down the hall. They stopped at the very last door, closest to the window that hung at the end of the corridor. “There’s your room,” Leviathan muttered before walking past her. He disappeared around the corner. Kita exhaled wearily, slowly opening the creaky door. Her shoulders went slack. By the head and foot of the bed stood two trees that stretched themselves against the roof of the room. Lichen hung off the gnarled bark. Some kind of viney plant that looked suspiciously like ivy creeped its way across the stone walls and behind the twirling, curled wooden bedframe. Colorful lanterns hung from the branches, providing light for the room. A smooth table had been placed just behind one of the trees and a group of intricate chairs sat underneath it. Beyond the table, a dresser, as ornate as everything else, held a variety of items on top. A brass skull lay next to a teapot. Hot tea does sound nice right about now. Maybe peppermint...or lavender. Beside the teapot, a group of various books had been stacked along with a small, empty picture frame. Next stood a cabinet that appeared to have been made from a coffin. More books lined one of the shelves, and the top shelf had a small red and gold container. Beside it stood a small horse figurine that reared angrily, and a potted plant rested next to it. In the very center of the room hung a twisted rust-colored chandelier. Open flamed candles burned off the twigs branching from the frame. Is that safe with all the wood here? Two decorated rugs crossed each other over the old and worn flooring. Aside from the color of the pillows and sheets, various shades of light pinks, the room was right up her alley. Kita ran a hand over the silky coverings on the bed, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into the cloudlike softness of the pillows lined against the headboard. But that’s where they’d expect to find her. That’s where these strangers would expect to find her, defenseless, vulnerable as she rested. Kita mumbled to herself as she searched for somewhere else in the room to sleep. Under the table was a no-go. She wouldn’t fit under the bed, and between the mattress wouldn’t work either. She ruffled through the plant at the edge of the bed, frowning at the lack of space between its branches and the wall. It left a small, cramped crawl space that she might’ve been able to fit into if she bothered to break a few of the twigs. She’d keep it in mind. Kita glanced around the room anxiously. A large air vent protruded out near the top of the wall. There was no way she’d be able to get to that. Finally, her sight landed on the large tree by the headboard of the bed. She curled her hand into the bark, pulling to test its durability. When it held, she began hoisting herself up the ivy and lichen, grunting with the effort as she reached the first branches. She continued climbing into the leaves until they covered her completely, settling flat on a large limb and clutching the main body of the tree with an exhausted sigh. I hope this thing doesn’t have spiders or something.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to take her.

[phoenixmakeswords]

Dented Ch. 3--AU

Finally thought of a name for the AU.

“Why haven’t you answered my texts? Do you not want me anymore?” I ask carefully. Just asking hurts. I forgot this much pain was possible.

“What? Kristoff, of course I want you. You’re my son. I just got your texts five seconds ago. Remember I was going on that camping trip? I told you about it at the restaurant. And that I wouldn’t have cell service.”

“I feel like a dumbass.”

“I still love you. Come in. You’re not okay. What’s going on?” She leads me from the entry hall to the spacious pale blue living room.

“Besides Regan being horrible? I went to a party on Friday. Clare’s girlfriend was having at her lake house. Anyway, it happened again.” My face twists into a grimace as I sink onto the matching blue sectional. It’s much softer and more plush than mine.

“What’d Regan do? Who was it?”

I show her the text reluctantly. It gives me a little time to dredge up the courage to tell her about the party.

“I was really drunk. Blackout drunk. Clare told me today he was blond and she thought his name might be James. I remember doing shots with Clare and then I woke up in a bed.”

“Did Clare know? Did anyone try to help you?”

“Yeah, she knew. Apparently, I could be heard over the music. Nobody did anything that I know of.”

“How’re you doing with this?”

“Oh, I'm peachy. I lashed out at the one guy I actually trust. I'm cutting class because I don’t want to look at Clare right now. Things are just fabulous. Oh, and I'm not sleeping and I'm really depressed. Can’t get better.”

“Have you thought about getting help? I believe you, Kristoff. I hope you know that. I'm sorry you’re suffering.”

“Yeah, telling a stranger about this sounds great.”

“Kristoff.”

“I might be leaving the bakery.”

“I thought you loved it.”

“I sorta slept with a guy’s brother and he’s being a jerk to me about it.”

“Were you a couple?” She sounds more excited than I expected by the possibility of me having a boyfriend.

“No. Just a hookup.”

“You know that’s not safe. Are you using protection at least?”

“If they don’t wanna use a condom, I don’t sleep with them. That’s like the only rule I have.”

“At least you’re being smart.”

“How was the camping trip?” I don’t want to discuss my sex life.

“It was good. There’s something really important I need to talk to you about.”

“You found a fae village in the woods.” I smirk teasingly at her. She’s my best friend. That might make me a mama’s boy. I don’t care.

“No. I met a guy. He’s really sweet. He asked me to dinner for this Friday.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s sweet. He’s genuine. He has kids of his own. He’s very respectful.”

“Does he work?”

“He’s a video game designer.”

“How��d you meet him? Was he a client?”

“His sister is my best friend. He came on the trip with us. The poor thing, he was the only man there. We started talking and we just…clicked.”

“You didn’t sleep with him, did you?” The idea fills me with horror.

“Kristoff!”

“Now you know how I felt.”

“You’re a brat. If you need to not be alone, you know you can stay here.”

“I know. Ransom’s been staying since it happened. He sleeps in the guest room. And he keeps making me breakfast.”

“Do you like him?”

“Does it matter? I'm so fu—screwed-up. I mean, yeah, we slept together before it happened.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. I know that’s hard for you to believe. But you do.”

“If it hadn’t happened, he was gonna ask me out.” I sigh softly.

“And? How do you feel about that?”

“You sound like a therapist. It would’ve been nice. I mean, he’s a great person. He’s hot. He’s smart.”

“Is he still interested?”

“I think so.”

“Are you interested?”

I nod slowly. He’s someone I would like to date. Someone I could maybe be with.

“He sounds like a good guy. He might be good for you,” she tells me gently.

“He is a good guy. He deserves better than a mess like me.”

The depression has become a physical weight in my chest. What happened and the fact I don’t deserve to be happy or in a stable, healthy relationship don’t help any. I am worthless.

“Alright, you have me really worried. Kristoff, are you thinking about killing yourself?”

“I'm not quite there yet.”

“Bu you’re still really bad?”

“Yeah. I don’t get like this.”

“I know. If you need to check in somewhere, I’ll take you. You have my support.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t wanna be hospitalized. I don’t wanna start therapy. I just wanna get through this crap on my own and go on with my life.” I rub my fingers absently over my phoenix tattoo. It was the first piece of ink I got. And it’s the most meaningful. Because phoenixes rise from the ashes. No matter what I face, I'm able to bounce back eventually. Right now, I need that reminder.

“I hate to tell you this, but you’re not Superman. There’s no shame in getting help.”

“I know that.”

I don’t want to need help. I know how society sees people who have mental health issues. And I don’t want them to see me that way. Ransom comes over after his shift tonight. He has a black duffel bag with him this time. Anger flickers in his jade eyes, despite his friendly smile.

“If you don’t wanna babysit me, it’s fine,” I assure him quickly.

“You’re not the problem. I like you. I met your sister.”

“How’d that go? Regan’s a nightmare, isn’t she?”

“You’re nothing alike. We’ve already butted heads.”

“So, they hired her?”

“Don’t threaten me like that. Did you know your sister doesn’t like Jews?” An edge slips into his low voice. I don’t like the distrust in his green eyes.

“No. Ransom, if I had, I would’ve told you.”

“Riley told her off. I know she’s your family and everything, but she was an utter bitch to me.”

“That would be Regan. Are you okay?” I touch his forearm gently. The sleeve of his black hoodie is soft.

“I'm irritated with her. I'm more worried about you.” He smiles gently.

“You still like me? I'm sorry she was nasty.”

“You’re not racist. You okay? I’ve dealt with it a lot.”

I shake my head quietly. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve talked about it enough today.

“What do you need? We can go do something. Or watch movies or whatever will help,” he murmurs gently.

“I'm sorry. You don’t have to stay.”

“You’re my friend. You’re in crisis. I'm not abandoning you.”

I didn’t think he’d want to stay. I know it’s inconvenient. A hassle. Which means I am. But here he is.

“Thanks.”

“How was class? Did anything interesting happen?” He sounds so genuinely interested it surprises me. Guys don’t do that.

“I walked out. Clare and I got into it and I didn’t want to look at her.” I sigh shakily. I feel like all I do anymore is break down. So much for ‘masculinity.’

“You cut class? You never do that. What happened?”

“She knew what happened. Everyone knew. And nobody tried to help me. She blamed me. I didn’t hear from her all weekend either.”

“I thought she was your friend.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

“For what it’s worth, I believe you. And it’s really crappy that they did nothing.”

“Thanks. How’d you meet my sister?”

“I did a tattoo for her. A simple rose she picked out of the book. Took twenty minutes. She argued with me about the aftercare. Called me a stupid kike. That was when Riley stepped in.” He rakes a hand through his hair.

“She should’ve never done that. You’re not stupid. And she should’ve never called you a slur. I'm sorry.”

“I didn’t get a tip. Because my people are ‘money hungry penny-pinching misers.’” He toys with his blue Star of David necklace. I’ve noticed he does this when he’s upset.

“How much was the tattoo?”

“Forty. It’s not a money thing, Kris. It’s the fact she played the anti-Semitic card. The fact she used my race as the reason to not give me a tip, not my work.”

“I knew you were tryin’ to get a new car. That’s why I asked. I'm sorry.”

“You’re not giving me the tip your sister should’ve. I don’t take handouts or pity.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to piss you off. I'm sorry, Ransom. I was tryin’ to be nice.”

“Were you? Or were you trying to be my ‘rescuer’?”

“Yeah, I was! I thought you’d be happy that I was tryin’ to make up for her.” I flinch at the sound of my own raised voice.

“I stand on my own feet. By my own merit.” He sounds just as angry as I am.

“I don’t wanna fight with you.” I don’t have the energy. I’ve spent it on fighting the battle raging inside my head.

“Me either. And you didn’t need me arguing while you’re already feeling bad. Which makes me an ass. I owe you an apology for that. I'm sorry.”

“Forgiven. Thank you for staying.”

“You’re welcome. And I'm not being nice to you just so we can hook up again when you’re okay.”

“I wouldn’t hate you if you were.”

I wish that wasn’t true. I wish I would be angry with him if he was using me. But I can’t do that. Ransom’s sleeping soundly on the couch when I get up. He’s even more adorable asleep. I envy his easy sleep.

I start breakfast, even though I don’t feel much like eating. I don’t feel like going to work or class either, but I have to.

“Good morning. Did you get any sleep?” Ransom says, startling me.

“A couple hours.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I am. I'm gonna send my teachers a text and explain what’s going on.”

I know I can’t avoid Clare forever. I shouldn’t have to. She should’ve believed me and been on my side. But she wasn’t. We’ve known each other since we were fourteen. I mean, I used to go to her family’s holidays because Regan and I fought so much. Clare’s pretty much family to me.

“Good idea. Any way you can take your classes online?” He looks perfectly at home in my kitchen with one of my mugs clutched in his slender hands. I wish the thought didn’t make my stomach twinge. I’ve never had hope for a picket fence of my own.

“I’ll ask.”

I dread going to work almost as much as dealing with Clare. Maybe more.

“Text me on break?” he asks hopefully.

I agree easily. By the end of my shift, I'm ready to quit. Eight hours of being sexually harassed does my fragile mental health zero favors. My boss knows. She doesn’t care.

I don’t tell Ransom over text. I don’t want to upset him. If I tell him at all, it’ll be face-to-face.

I have a text from him, inviting me to dinner. He’s clarified that it’s not a date, which I appreciate. I agree easily.

Maybe if I wasn’t such a broken mess, I’d ask him out. Maybe if I thought he could like me more than for just sex. Maybe if I wasn’t so scared. But I am.

[psychededoodle]

spent the weekend doing some simple portraits of oc’s of mine, after making several for commissions.. Tryggvi is the only one not of the same universe as the rest, but then again.. He sneaks himself into all universes, somehow.

Mika She is a creation of Eitir, an Ultieer. Based on the genome of Neila, daughter of Latif. (Like all of that, is... Takes a while to explain) But her "adoptive” father was a federal agent, a strict sort that at times resolved to using physical punishment in child rearing. He wasn't a bad father, or particularly abusive, but it didn't stop Mika from running away from home after one such altercation. She was around 13 at that time, and too young to be running the streets, but after she had cooled down from the fight with her father, she felt too ashamed to go back home, and never did. Her father however never stopped looking for her. They crossed paths a few times, once while he was working a case. Seated on the opposite subway from hers. She panicked, he had renewed hope at returning her back home. Using the resources at his disposal, he located where she had been staying. But what he was met with was a man not entirely human, Zethymir. Zethymir was there to kill Mika, but left having killed her father instead. Mika is like the universes “fuck you” to itself, and everything in it. She seems insignificant, besides the part where she got a “seer assigned assassination” on her head, by the Ferrians. Which is targets assigned by Ferrians seers to make the war go smoothly. This was to be preformed by Zethymir, who for reasons he couldn't understand then, was unable to do so.

Big Tree Bullseye (Bullseye is the name Mika gave him, because he got a knack of getting shot.) Big Tree and Mika share the same problem, Ferrian’s got one of their siblings. Mika was at one point confronted with her younger brother, who the Ferrians had tried to alter for their indoctrination into their own society. Mainly to give him access to their “connection”. Didn't go well. Big Tree wounded his shoulder during a skirmish with the Sioux, and was rendered unable to properly use a bow from then on. This lead him to feel shameful, and useless to his mother and sisters and the village as whole. Eventually he started to drink a lot, this in return lead him to get more and more familiar with the language of the white man. During that time he met with white folks more frequently and learned more of the language, which gave him the opportunity to handle trading with them, and similar tasks. Eventually making him a representative of the Pawnee, earning him the Indian peace medal by the US. That gave him a lot of the honour back, in which he felt he had lost. He had the medal, the others didn’t, he’d boast a bit, the others would envy him a bit, they’d joke about it and all seemed fine again. Until a day when a flash in the sky caught the tribe’s attention. A group along with Big Tree went to check it out, but unbeknownst to the rest of them, his younger sister was convinced that this was Tirawahut's doing, and wished to see it for herself.. And shit went down...  What it was, was time and space displacement gone awry. The cause was an experiment during the Ferrian Earth war. Sending him and his sister across time. His sister was captured by the Ferrians moments after. Big Tree sets out to find his sister, in a world he doesn't understand. He eventually come across Mika, whom he, in mild terms "kidnaps." She wears a necklace in which he recognize from one of the Ferrian warriors who took his sister. He believes Mika to be a means to find his sister again. Those two eventually become an unlikely pair of friends. An unstoppable force of "wtf just happened."

Zethymir Was created by a man named Eitir (Ultieer) for the purpose to infiltrate the Ferrian people. Zethymir was partially created using a Ferrian captive and Eitir's own genome. The Ferrian captive/slave, was a third gen captive of the Ultiers. As they had managed to capture a fleet belonging to Ferrians centuries ago. They had kept the prisoners, and bred them for.. Specific reasons, I'm not going into. Eitir picked out a large group of slaves and placed them on a ship, including Zethymir and his mother. This was meant as a lure, to ensure that Zethymir would be taken into the Ferrian society. The ship was placed on a route in which Eitir knew a Ferrian ship would pass. He launched the "vultures," onto the ship with the slaves. (They are essentially the same as the Reavers in firefly, to an extent. They are subgroup of Ultiers.) Ferrians are one of the biggest proponent in the galaxy in fighting and hunting Vultures. (Who most don't know are Ultiers, most don't know the existence of Ultiers either..) Now everyone on the slave ship knew they were the sacrificial lamb, to ensure that Zethymir would be taken in by the Ferrians. He was at that point a young boy, and he wasn't supposed to be exposed to the vultures, but hearing his mother being attacked he came out of hiding. Which just caused him to be attacked as well. Luckily for him at least, the Ferrian slaves did what they could to save him, ensuring he remained alive until the other Ferrian ship got lured in. Zethymir was taken in by the Fewyn leader among the Ferrians, and trained to become a Fewyn himself. The Fewyn are specially trained Ferrians soldiers, for more specific tasks than “war”. The ship he was found on was considered a mystery, as Ferrians being rather xenophobic tend to keep to themselves. Not that they don’t travel outside their solar system, but such a large ship with so many people, they’d know about it. Lacking the connection as Ferrians have (a form of emotional bond) and his few but noticeable physical differences from Ferrians in general made it so that he was never properly accepted in that society. Those "flaws" in him was made intentional by Eitir, to ensure Zethymir's loyalty to him rather than growing fond of the Ferrian people.

Makhan Aeli He is a character that grew in my mind, without me feeling like i had any choice in the matter. Which is ironic. He is the son of the Masaf, and the next in line to become so. Masaf being the ruler in the Ferrian society. Who is to be Masaf is always determined by who is the strongest among them. This is thoroughly tested while they are young. It is however highly hereditary. Makhan in many ways seem like a gentle and kind person, his mannerisms are soft, in both voice and body language. But he has grown extremely cold and wicked. However it never plays out in an obvious manner, it's always subtle and often devastating. He read minds, and shapes them. The extent of what he can do isn't well known to his own people, but he can even manipulate the bond the Ferrians share. He's so set on what he is meant to do as a Masaf, that he doesn't quite realise why it is that marrying a woman and having a child with her is causing him to rot from the inside. He is a gay man, with one exception. The only woman he ever felt attraction to was his own sister. While you may find incestuous marriages on occasion among what you could consider "the royalty" of the Ferrians, it wasn't at all the norm. She in return was set for an arranged marriage to the son of the Fewyn leader, Jatekh. Makhan could manipulate Neila in any way he liked, and was often tempted to do so. In the end he did at least allow himself to form her mind, so she'd never grow affection towards Jatekh. Jatekh is, however Makhan's closest friend.

Tryggvi Haah...

Maguwa Her mother left her father while she was around 11 years old. Her father found it difficult to raise his daughter in the big cities, and eventually moved them both to a fishing town in Maine. He got a job as a deckhand, but still struggled in a the role as a lone parent. Maguwa understood this, and did her best for her age to make life easier for him. In essence they both took care of one another. Her discipline lead her to a life in the military. She became a target for the Ferrians as well, and they… Sorta succeed in their task in killing her. But then there was Mika. Who fucks up everything, because that’s what she is good at. Maguwa ends up leading one of the resistance groups in the war.

Muul She's like an ADHD Han Solo? Her Husband Diz.. A calmer... Leia. They had to run from their home planet when Diz decided he wanted to bond with Muul. Diz was through a genetic tests risen to nobility as young boy, and Muul was a lowly criminal. Having such a pairing was seen as a catastrophe among the nobles, one they’d kill for. They eventually find refuge among the Angelan and start up their own galactic news station. Ehhh, you got secrets? Not for long.

[vers-1]

So my buddy’s got a debut coming up. its a Filipino thing for girls who turn 18. anyway, I am a candle and like the superior one because I have to give my speech last. 

she's stressing out a bit cause there is so much to prepare for. I do not envy her. my debut was smaller so it was easier to manage not that I had to manage much really. my parents.

so theme is white. I need to wear a white dress which is fine. I won't like it buts its just a dress so who cares. My parents want to get my dress from the Philippines. This is more of a cost thing and preference thing on their part. Its cheeper and it will be tailored so wow. I just wanted to get a dress on my own. I have to wear this thing y’know. I wanted to pick it out. 

Maybe I'm just being a brat about all of this.

My dad flicked my ear and then was all like you need to grow your hair out. I have very short hair (like pixie/ tiny undercut hair). He's always hated it. Which is weird. Almost all of his sisters, and he's got a handful coming from a 9 children home, have short hair. including his mom. Tita G. has hair exactly like mine. my mom has short hair too. she came home with a boy cut and did I hear him complain? he teased her, but he didn't hate it. 

I guess I don't mind growing my hair out, I just don't like the intentions he has for wanting it long. I actually don't know exactly why he doesn’t like it. I’m sorta afraid to ask. I don't want to hear a long lecture thats insulting and have him preach it like he's teaching me a lesson. 

I thought I hated being numb and not feeling anything, but this feeling thing is also pretty rough. I’m just having a hard day today maybe.

During practice I knocked my sparring buddy wayy off balance and I was pretty proud of it cause he's black belt and I just became brown. he's this late 30s guy who's huge and strong and I was this small, asian 18 year old. I just thought it was cool that I could do something like that. I guess he was embarrassed or something. which is pretty childish cause I didn't even say anything about it, I didn't tease him because we all get the carpet swept from under us at some time. He kept trying to get head shots and then would land them. I didn't even have a helmet on. I didn't speak up, idk why. in the end he got me good when he took a clean shot at my face and his stick sorta scraped my eye. it was like really irritated and my sweat was not helping it. I’m okay but still, not fun

I burnt my hand on the toaster like a fucking idiot again

My midterm is on Monday and I'm not a fan of that

I've made up my mind and will pretty much expose myself on Friday so fun

oh and my buddy is pretty set on me sitting at the same table as my ex

re-reading this post again before I post this. none of these are actually that bad. I’ve been reading this book by some guy named Seneca and it would talk about misdirected anger. does any of this really matter? will it affect me deeply tomorrow or the day after that? no. It says that we shouldn’t act out of anger. I should just breathe and calm down. think about how much any of this matters and then just be okay.

[starspatter]

Why did you drop Fullmetal Alchemist after that episode?

Spoiler rant ahead (for both the 2003 and 2009 series).

I’ll preface by saying I have seen the original animé series and enjoyed it - even up to and including the ending, which is a major reason why I held off on watching Brotherhood for so long since I was largely satisfied with the conclusion I got.

That being said, watching AMVs over the years did make me curious about the “alternate/official takes”, as it were - in particular the scene of crying Winry holding a gun and Ed comforting her since it was featured so often.  So it was one of the “big scenes” I was looking forward to when my friend finally convinced me to (re)watch the series with him (it being his second viewing).

Once it was revealed Scar was the one who killed Winry’s parents instead of Roy, I knew the above had to be a result of the inevitable confrontation over it, and was eagerly anticipating said meeting and the explanation as to why Scar killed them.  Surely, with everyone so vocally supportive of FMAB, their deaths must be even more intense and heartbreaking than the original!  …Right?

And so what was the reason for their deaths?

…

Because their eyes were blue.

That’s it.

If that’s not the dumbest, table-flipping excuse enough to kill someone, I don’t know what is.

But let me clarify by backing up a bit: It wasn’t Winry’s breakdown scene specifically that made me want to drop the series.  It was everything building up to it within the episode itself that just made me… so apathetic that I couldn’t even be bothered to care.

Maybe it’s just me, but I had a very visceral reaction to just how… cliché the presentation of the Ishvalan War was.  Of course the Amestrian soldiers were seen as blue-eyed devils who relished in massacring women and children!  Because look!  Racism and violence = bad!  No shit Sherlock.

Of course, I know these are still real-world issues that need to be addressed, but I’m just getting a little tired of relying on the trope in fiction to signal who the “bad guys” are, is all.  Perhaps it’s bc I saw Wonder Woman recently, which handled these subjects in a much more unbiased and mature manner (if not exactly perfect either).  There’s grace to be had in subtlety.

And that’s a problem I have with the presentation of the story in general.  A lot of its messages I feel I’m being beaten over the head with.  Perhaps the animators are partially at fault, I haven’t read the manga so I can’t compare how heavy-handed Scar’s backstory was there.  And yes, I’m now aware of the later twist that Envy was the one behind starting the war, but I can’t say I’m a big fan of that development either for the very fact he felt the need to monologue about it, complete with maniacal villain laughter.  To boil things down to even further “black and white” left a horribly bad taste in my mouth.  (Another reason I prefer the Homunculi of the original.)

The whole thing made me absolutely loathe Scar’s character in this version for how hypocritical he was being.  And I thought, maybe he’d redeem himself a bit by the end when Winry calls him out and he realizes the error of his ways - but no, he is entirely unrepentant.  Yes, I know they later have another heart-to-heart and sorta settle their differences and he eventually becomes their ally, but the fact he was so stubborn in the first place doesn’t endear me to him.  I know people’s minds don’t change so easily, but for God’s sakes those doctors saved your life.  Even if you slaughtered them in a fit of rage and confusion, shouldn’t you feel some remorse when their grief-stricken daughter is staring you right in the face?

And from Winry’s side, I vastly preferred her emotional conflict over finding out Roy was responsible for her parents’ deaths in the original and having to come to terms with that knowledge.  Roy’s reasons for killing them were much more complex and compelling IMO, to the point he was so tortured by guilt he was nearly driven to suicide by it.  Scar’s arc in Brotherhood just doesn’t compare.

The writing of that singular episode made me so mad I refused to watch any more episodes for a while, since it effectively killed any excitement I had up to that point.  I was also afraid that other future “spoilers” i had been looking forward to would similarly be disappointing after all the hype.  I only resumed after a month-long hiatus when I saw another friend was also rewatching the series and singing praises for it.  By that time my anger had died down and I could at least stomache to continue.

All that said, I am enjoying the series now, especially upon learning more of Hoenheim’s history.  (I’m really just here for Hoendorkdad interactions with his sons. *shot* Plus I’ve found a new motivation in making MCA comparison posts.)  Unlike the whole “Red Eyes good Blue Eyes bad” debacle, the revelation that Ed and Al were descendants of the ruined country Xerxes, as indicated by their golden hair and eyes, was a good example of clever storytelling and world-building.  It was a nicely slipped in detail that wasn’t hamfistedly called attention to; I hadn’t even noticed it until my friend pointed it out.  …Although it’s still later deliberately spelled out anyway.  But whatever.  Point still counts.

Still, it was hard getting there after Scar’s backstory ep, since suffice to say it left a permanent “scar” on my viewing experience no matter how good the rest of the show may be.  Anytime the Ishvalan War was brought up thereafter and the vices of “prejudice” stressed it reminded me of how I just wanted to gag myself with a spoon during that episode, and tried to speed past that part of the plot as quickly as possible lest it sour the overall score further.  I mean, when you spend half the entire episode bored/sick of it and just wishing for it to end, that’s a warning sign.

I may be looking at the original with rose-tinted glasses (it’s been a while since I saw it as well), but the thing is, I’m starting to recognize that FMA (both the original and Brotherhood) is, in essence, very much a baby’s first shounen/animé, constantly hammering its morals in for the kids at home.  And as far as introductory series to the genre go, it’s good!  Great even.  I just… kinda wish I hadn’t waited so long to see the universally lauded “sibling series” when regardless of whether I had seen the original first or not, I probably would’ve enjoyed Brotherhood a lot more had I watched it when I was younger and not after I’ve consumed a ton more media since then.

[hawkeyedflame]

tag, i’m it!

RULES: Always post the rules. Answer the questions asked, then write 11 new ones. Tag 11 people to answer your questions, as well as the person who tagged you.

I got tagged for a fullmetally thing by @ladywiltshire​ ~ thanks!!

[readmore because this got really long .-. ]

Do you remember your first time watching or reading Fullmetal Alchemist? What was your first impression? I watched it just this past December (i know, i know) and the second episode made me cry. I proceeded to scream about it to Robyn for the next week and a half. At first I was like “this is kinda weird but it’s cool,” and then by episode 19 I was like “this is the best thing I’ve ever watched and I can’t believe I didn’t listen when my ex tried to make me watch it three years ago.”

Tell us about The Fave™. Do you mean my queen Riza Hawkeye? *deep breath* I...I just...I love her so much. Her strength of character, her commitment to making the world a better place, her realistic attitude, her motherly attitude towards the kids. She’s such a good goddamn person and it physically pains me to know how much blood she has on her hands and how it eats away at her soul. She is so kind and gentle in spite of all the things she’s been through, all the unforeseen and unintended consequences of her choices. Christ, this girl permanently wore one of the most dangerous secrets in the world on her back by the time she was ~16/17. She grew up lonely and estranged from her relatives, had to care for a rapidly deteriorating father, had to find her own path after he died, entrusted her tattoo to Roy in hopes of helping him achieve his dreams (an incredibly serious decision for someone so young), joined the military hoping to make a positive difference, was sent to the front lines of a war by the time she was ~20 to participate in a mass genocide, had to live with the fact that she killed hundreds with her sniper rifle and thousands more indirectly because she gave the deadliest alchemy in the world to a dog of the military. She had to live with all of this pain and suffering that the world forced upon her and she still chose to be by Roy’s side as he made the climb to the top, protecting his back and ensuring that he remained virtuous. She still chose to work every day to make the world a better place. When everything she went through showed her that the world was an ugly, unforgiving place, she chose to make it better instead of laying down and accepting the abuse. I cannot find words to express how much I love and respect Riza Hawkeye. She’s honestly such an inspiring person and if I could have an ounce of the backbone that she possesses, I would feel accomplished.

Do you have a favorite fan work? Fanfics? Comics? Oh god fucking Here Dead We Lie by mebh will haunt me for the rest of my life and probably beyond the grave too. No other work of fiction I’ve read has come close to how badly that fanfic fucked me up. I love anything super angsty, especially with Royai. God I have way too many fics I loved to even begin to list them. I also love literally everything that the artists on here draw.. Everyone is so talented and I am so thankful and inspired. I don’t want to call out specific people because I don’t want anyone I forgot to mention feel bad so suffice to say I LOVE ALL OF THE ART AND FICS.

Hit me with an analysis/opinion you have on the series or characters! Ooh I have one criticism that still irks me! I love volume 15 of the manga, okay? Love it. I wish more than anything that Brotherhood had focused more on Ishval because holy shit that volume made me cry so many times. But Brotherhood did do something I like better than what Arakawa did in the manga, and that’s scattering a few of the scenes from V15 into other episodes of the anime. The scene that really sticks out to me is the one where Riza asks Roy to burn her back. It’s in Volume 15 of the manga but episode 54 of Brotherhood. The reason I prefer Brotherhood’s version is implied audience. Volume 15 is a flashback to Ishval as told by Riza, to Edward. That means that everything we read in that volume is assumed to have also been told to Edward. And I simply cannot believe, not even for a second, that Riza would have told Ed about her tattoo. She may be a realistic and honest person (ex. she told Ed and Al straight up about Shou/Nina Tucker being murdered, while Roy and Armstrong lied about Hughes), but the flame alchemy secret is highly confidential for many reasons, not the least of which it suggests a potential for fraternization. I just really cannot see a situation in which Riza would willingly tell anyone, most especially a volatile teenager, about the array on her back. Brotherhood excised that scene (where she asks Roy to burn her) and transplanted it into episode 54, where there is nobody else around except the viewer to bear witness to that intimate (and frankly, chilling) moment. Placing the scene there, right before That One Big Scene between her and Roy really drives home how deep and complicated their past together is and puts all these emotions fresh in the viewer’s mind, and if you ask me it made That One Big Scene all the more raw and devastatingly powerful.

Tell us about a project you have going on! Or if you don’t have one, maybe something you’ve always wanted to write or draw? Oh god. Well I’m trying to teach myself how to draw and it’s...well it’s stop and go, mostly. As far as writing goes, I have a few one-shots kicking around and I’m now playing with the idea of an AU where Envy impersonated Riza instead of Maria Ross when he murdered Hughes. I don’t know if I can commit to that, but talking with a few friends has really opened up some crazy possibilities. I’d certainly like to write a longfic for FMA but my life is kind of hectic right now.

Favorite opening/ending number and why? My favorite opener is easily Rain (season 5). Even before I knew the English translation, the colors and imagery of it coupled with the singing successfully made me feel unsettled and nervous. SID is an incredibly talented singer and the lyrics, even in Japanese, just give me chills every time. I remember saying to Robyn the first time I saw this opener that the little snippet of Roy spiraling down/Riza hugging Hayate and crying made me feel this overwhelming surge of dread. It’s a very visceral opener and sometimes I watch it on its own because I just like it so much.

Tell me about a scene that really touched you or made you realize something about yourself. One of the scenes that still gets me every time is in episode 5 when Al punches Ed and then grabs him by his shirtfront and gives him that speech: “Survival is the only way, Ed. Live on, learn more about alchemy. You can find a way to get our bodies back and help people like Nina. You can’t do that by dying! I won’t allow you to abandon the possibility of hope and choose a meaningless death!” It chokes me up every single time. I mean there are a bunch of scenes that make me feel things but I’ve talked so much about Roy and Riza that I thought I should give Ed and Al a chance. ;)

OTPs! Who are they? Why are you WEAK FOR THEM?? ROYAI FUCKING RUINED ALL OTHER PAIRINGS FOR ME. I am so weak for how much they love and support one another and god the tragedy of their circumstances. It’s just devastating and it makes me feel so many things. I am so weak. I honest to god don’t have any other OTPs in FMA that I care about as much as Royai. I’m not even joking when I say they r u i n e d other pairings for me.

Funniest headcanon you’ve ever seen. Go! I rarely have the privilege of seeing a lighthearted FMA headcanon but if anyone has some I’d love to hear ‘em!!! 

What spurred you to join the fandom? My friend Maddy finally convinced me to watch the show (she was the fifth person to insist that I needed to see it and I finally caved) and then Robyn found out I had started watching it and asked me to talk to her about it as I watched and I sorta ended up in the fandom through her, which is honestly one of the greatest gifts anyone has ever given me. This fandom is absolutely incredible and I am very happy with the friends I’ve made in my short time here.

Definitely the same question… have a fandom meltdown here and tell me why you love your fandom or show/comic so much! I pretty much had like four meltdowns already in this post so I feel like anything more is like...really extra lmao. Although I noticed I baaarely talked about Roy in this and I just want to make it clear that I love Roy just as much as Riza. It was impossible for me to decide which of them to talk about for question number 2 and I ended up flipping a coin.

I don’t know who to tag because pretty much everyone has already been tagged! But if anyone reading this wants to do it too then feel free to recycle these questions (which are honestly really good ones and I definitely couldn’t come up with any this good) and consider yourself tagged.

[didntdeservethisshit]

Muse info shit

Name: Nick Monroe Alias: Nick Gender: Trans, nonbinary (**that’s right fuckers, he’s trans. changed it in the bio page, been that way for like 2, almost 3 months now. I’ve decided upon seeing someone else be open about a change in their character, that I too should be open. So gentle, but firm, reminder: Nick is a trans man, my friends. middle fingers up because yolo.{feel free to at any time politely, but firmly, tell me when I portray something wrong. being on the NB spectrum myself doesn’t mean I know everything.} ) Date of birth: November 12, 1977 Languages: ASL, and English Orientation: Pansexual, Grey-romantic Occupation: Tattoo Artist Record: He’s been detained a few times but he’s never really been arrested for anything. Even though he’s definitely done things that would have gotten him arrested if he had been caught. Disorders: Depression, DID, PTSD, very mild OCD. And in terms of “medical” problems, Meniere’s Disease.

Eye colour: Blue Hair colour: Blond Height: 6′3″ Scars:  Lucifer scars all over, even on his face visibly, as stab scar on his lower right abdomen, has some on the backs of his hands from punching things, some that he unfortunately put on himself, but those aren’t in excess and they’re faded so far you can’t see them unless you look hard, has a bit of a scar on the top of his head from Lucifer being shot. But that’s covered by his hair generally. He has other various ones scattered on him. But quite a few of them are covered by tattoos. Scars on his chest from top surgery. Burns: Lucifer burn scars in varying places all over his body, most notably seen through the very visible discolored scars on his face. Overweight: Sometimes. His weight fluctuates depending on his state of mind. If he’s a little overweight he is probably in a more comfortable state of being. Underweight: Sometimes. Again, his weight fluctuates depending on his state of mind. Though, if he’s underweight, he’s in an awful mindset and is having a hard time remembering to do the basics in taking care of himself because his mind is full of other things. He doesn’t want to forget, he’s not purposely doing it. He just has so much in his head it’s hard.

Song: I’m So Sorry by Imagine Dragons. Food: He is a slut for French fries.

Had sex: Yes. Had sex in public: no Gotten pregnant: yes. Kissed a boy: Yes Kissed a girl: Yes Kissed a non-binary cutie: Abso-fuckin-lutely Gotten tattoos: Anti-possession on his left ankle in black light ink, A realistic looking blue snake down his left arm as though it is squeezing him as a reference to Lucifer, has an alligator on his left side, a two carnations together, with their names and birthdates dates underneath the stems on his right shoulder blade in remembrance of Sarah and Toby. He has various other tattoos all over himself that I have yet to figure out. Definitely has a half sleeve on his right arm that goes down to his elbow. Gotten piercings: He has his earlobes pierced, and has two in the cartilage of his left ear. He doesn’t wear the piercings as often as he used to though. Smoked: Yes. Drank: He’s an on and off alcoholic. Right now he’s trying to be sober again. Drugs: Not anymore. The most he’ll do is the occasional edible when he’s feeling particularly stressed beyond reason. Been in love: Once or twice. (it’s sORTA verse dependent on how many people he’s fallen for. But it’s a very low amount. He loves people, and gets with people, but it’s not always a romantic affair for him. Sometimes it’s that he loves you in a different way, and is sexual with you, and just wants to be close to you. But he’s not necessarily romantic about it.) Needed surgery: To take care of a really bad stab wound he’d gotten, and at the same time get his appendix out because it got damaged pretty bad in the process of being stabbed. He has also had top surgery. Stayed up for more than twenty four hours:  His record is about eight days because insomnia and chronic pain flare ups now and again.

A virgin: God no. A cuddler: Fuck yeah. A kisser: fUCK. YEAH. Scared easily: Scared easily? Yes. Scared away easily? No. Jealous easily: Not about people. More about situations. And it’s less jealous, more envy of people being able to be so ignorant. He gets over it because he knows it’s not fair to be that way. But sometimes he can’t help but feel envious that he can’t be in that state of ignorant bliss anymore. Trustworthy: Depends who you are. considered mean: Depends who you ask. Harmed self: At one point, yes. But he doesn’t anymore. Not in the traditional sense. The most it goes is him not caring for himself properly. And risking things because of that lack of caring. Thought of suicide: Yeah. Attempted suicide: A few times. He’s gotten help for those feelings and things as time has gone on. He’s also found friends who he feels he could never leave. So he’ll never do it even if he is in a really bad state of mind. But he has tried before. Fears: A great many things that I’m too lazy to name.

Siblings: Two older sisters, Eden and Lacey. Pets: Verse dependent.

[drennalynspast]

[ envy of another woman ]

Wednesday, Dec. 03, 2008

Note: Apparently I am dumb.  I write entries and forget about them and post them ages later.  This was written around August 2008.  Looking back, I am loloing at my foolish thinking in this entry.

Sooo a couple days ago, I was freakin' paranoid and jealous. I never realized how I could be that emotionally sensitive.

Dave invited me over to his place so I could hang out with him and his friends. I assume the two usual people would be there - his two best guy friends. I arrived later than everyone else, and when I walked in the door my eye caught attention on a girl sitting on the couch next to Dave.

First of all, I am thinking.. "uh, hi. do i know you?" Second I was thinking, "I don't think you knew Dave for a while...it must have been a couple of days ago. I saw you walking around campus in summer school and it's not like I saw you talking to him then." Thirdly, I was thinking, "ZOMFG WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE ASIAN!?" Actually, the asian thing is what first crossed my mind. >.>

I kind of froze and had this awkward moment. Like, Dave would say something to me and I would pause/space out/stare off. It would be completely silly for me to assume that something was going on between them. I know he wouldn't go off fucking/liking someone else unless he told me about it first before he decided to take action towards the other person.

The girl later left because she had other things to do. Like, hang out with other people. I took two shots of rum (we were drinking that night - she left before we drank) and started to feel buzzed. I still felt distant, and Dave noticed something was wrong. We went outside and talk. I wanted to be honest about what was going through my mind. I told him how I just felt weird and it was unexpected of Christy being there...and the fact that she is asian...lol (talked about my paranoia with the fetish thing).

We had a long talk. And he spent a long time with his explanation to things -how he just met her recently and thought she was an interesting person cause she likes anime/video games/draws etcetc. He said it was just a coincidence that she is asian (as well as his ex). Basically, he mentioned how he just likes people who have similar interests with him (and the females just happen to be asian). Dave said he just wanted to invite her over and hang out with everyone else and meet people. He told me he would never do something that would hurt my health/mentality. He would confront me before he would do anything.

He apologized and feels guilty for what he did. He mentioned how he should have told me in advance that I would be expecting to meet another of his friend and what he did was unfair to me.

One time, I asked him if his ex's name was 'Linda", and he paused..and said "yes" (her real name is Lin______, but she prefers to be called Linda). He apologized for not telling me before. He was afraid to tell me early because he didn't want to me to freak out or have our friendship jeopardized. He also feels guilty about that. He assured me he does not have an asian fetish.

Dave also described people who were really close to him. Among them, I am one of them. "you have a big piece of my heart." He said I am the closest female friend he's had. (and how christy doesn't compare to me) And, he has no intentions of trying to find other fuck buddies or dating/hitting on girls. He just wants to meet new people etcetc. He also said how each of his friends are unique and stand out to him in their own different way.

After the talk, I calmed down. Overall, I just felt uncomfortable in the beginning. I think the initial thing was the fact that she is asian, and I saw her as competition. yes, i am dumb. I shouldn't have those thoughts, but it happened.

Overall, I admit, I would feel jealous if Dave started having interest in other girls/fucking them. I just want to be the only one [friend with benefit]. It makes me feel special...T_T lol.

anyway, i just don't want to be this paranoid obsessive bitch. if anything should occur, i just want him to be honest with me before he decides to do stuff. i actually understand that if he wants other people, i will accept. honestly, i will be hurt and jealous, but our status isn't boyfriend/girlfriend, so we aren't obligated to actually 'stay together' kind of thing. that's all i really want - honesty.

so i mailed this venting/rant message to jack.  his response:</p><p><i>"What did I say? About Dave, about the situation? He might be sincere in saying everything he does is unintentional, but that doesn't take away from the gravity of his actions. I've told you this too many times before, seeking validation from others gets you nowhere. [...] it's more harmful than anything. Once that person is gone, what happens?

If he's not supportive of your decision and decides to fuck the next Asian girl he sees, so be it, he doesn't deserve someone like you."

i know i shouldn't rely on someones verbal responses as a way to confirm my thoughts about someone.  i should also learn to analyze body/facial expressions as well.  i know i am naive, and i freak out at the slightest things.

this girl hasn't done anything, and here i am - getting jealous..or nothing. - just her being asian.  oh i am silly.

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oh crap, i did it again,  at the organization fair today, i was walking around trying to get free stuff from the booths.   i turned around to see the other booths, and i saw dave talking to christy.  the first thing i was thinking was, "hmm, oh okay.  they just want to hang out together.  i'll leave them alone."  i turned around and minded my own business.  i didn't want to butt in or bother him...so i just said nothing.  

dave came up to me and said, "oh,  you saw me and didn't want to say hi?  thanks for ignoring me.... what's wrong?" 

i just told him i wanted free stuff and was looking around.  i wonder if he seemed skeptical.  later on that day, during lunch.  he questioned, "is everything alright?  you look kind of down." i assured him i was okay.  ....x_x err. i really am okay.  i am just bad at hiding things.  apparently the christy thing still weirds me out., but i don't want to be a jealous bitch.  i don't want dave to feel like he can't talk to her because of my paranoid actions.  i really do want him to be able to speak/hang out with whoever he likes.  just.. ignore my feelings.  that's all. </p><p>yes, i am that type of person who will sacrifice my feelings/thoughts for the benefits of other people.  i am a people pleaser.  i do things that will be appropriate/acceptable for others.  that's just..how i am.  i feel guilty of hurting people.  i feel terrible.  i feel....afraid of people hating me.  that's what i really fear. 

dave told me that he is kinda starting to have some feelings toward me.   i agreed and said that i sorta feel the same way towards him.  we both knew that this was eventually develop due to our frequent visits and sexual activities together.  

we both know that if things get out of hand with the emotions - we will slow things down.  we don't want to be distracted from school stuff.  he is going to graduate before me...and i will be sad.  but...at the same time, while the parting will be painful, i hope to enjoy the rest of the time i am able to have with him now.  

i don't want to sound like this girl who is easily convinced/accepting of someone...i know the questionable instances in this entry should give me some doubt on things, but i am somehow convinced things are okay at the moment...