#although i too act like a bitch when i have a migraine so

[darby-rowe]

mentally torturing coryo by saying modern him would have chronic migraines and would be a bitch about it

knowing how men act like they have the plague when they just have a common cold… yeah

[idrisofficial]

Which characters/character do you feel most personally/emotionally involved with and why?

oh this is a very difficult question and i appreciate it very much. as any creator would, i’m inclined to say all of them in different ways…but that’s kind of a cop-out.

i think i’ll say brinne and lennox. they’re not the characters i relate to the most, but i do think i feel the most emotional connection towards them. a lot of what draws me to them is their silent suffering—both of them live in glass prisons of their own making. a lot of this is mental illness related, but their natural dispositions are also of great influence (although lennox’s natural disposition is extremely debatable when you consider nature vs nurture).

brinne was the first of any of my idris characters to exist, and the depth of her development definitely follows suit. her transition from a manic but deeply idealistic teenager to a reticent and self-interested monarch through the buildup of her childhood trauma and the final straw of her near death experience is so deliciously heartbreaking. her loneliness, her codependency with adrian, her sexual and alcoholic coping mechanisms, her deep uncertainty in the religion that gives meaning to her entire life…poor girl can’t catch a break. brinne has always been the focus of idris, and i’ve had fun and i’ve had pain hurting her like i do. most of the actual writing that i’ve accomplished revolves around her, and for good reason. she is at the core of the conflicts plaguing idris’s centuries-old culture and still just a twenty two year old girl who never really got to grow up. sometimes i act as though her teenage self and her adult self are two separate people, but the truth is that they are painfully intertwined. brinne’s suppression of her idealism and desire for change in service to her desperate attempts at self-preservation is what drives her motivations throughout every iteration of this story. she cannot escape who she is, try as she might. and i think there’s something so, so compelling about that for someone in a position of such horrible power like she is.

lennox is layer upon layer upon layer. the fact that he was originally inspired by byakuya togami? we’re not gonna talk about that. lennox has also come a long way as a character, the third to exist after brinne and adrian. he’s an og. lennox was a nice kid up until about age six, where the kindness was quite literally shattered in him to make room for solid perfection. a machine with style. he grew into the role almost too perfectly. the pinnacle of competence, a voice of absolute reason and logic amidst his generally wild and dysfunctional generation of nobles. here is why i feel such connection to lennox. he is ice on the outside, ice on the inside, speaks only when necessary but controls the conversation, and casually usurps the throne from time to time. he has studied these same people for sixteen years, understands most of them sickeningly well, and appears virtually flawless aside from his mansplainer bullshit. but my god is he grumpy, bitchy, flamboyant, perfectionistic to the point of petulance, and baselessly sadistic. he’s the second most powerful person in the country and he has constant migraines from dealing with others’ bullshit. he loves his siblings. he’s one of only two characters to understand his sexuality and he’s deeply afraid of it. he gets no bitches. he’s still mourning the death of the cousin whose death he was responsible for and who he was boyishly in love with. he’s sensible as all hell, but my god, he is fucking losing it. nobody gets that. even the people who hate him don’t get that. they hate him for his pretentious swag but don’t understand how much of a loser he actually is. anyways. i’m on a tangent now. he’s flawless. he’s horrible. there is no changing who he is, but would he ever have turned out like this naturally? lennox is a product of both what others have made him into and what he has forced himself to embody. there is no lennox that isn’t a diamond formed under absolute pressure.

[4dtk]

op.47 (you're the space in between the notes) — iii. development

pairing: soloist!gojo x violinist!reader (fem)

summary: gojo satoru always had a place in your life, whether it’s from the endless teasing at the age of ten to the dashing photoshoot of him with his violin in the concert you aimed to meet him again at. although when you’re caught in a messy situation, your childhood friend’s first solution is to announce that you’re dating. and so you’re stuck in this predicament: for you to figure out your feelings and for gojo to get one more chance. at what? even he doesn’t know.

tags: fake dating au, extreme slow burn (check masterlist for the full tags!)

word count: 7.3k

a/n: they’re so down bad for each other. also thank you again to @moonboohoo for beta reading!!! (also for clarification both satoru and y/n has photo sets of their own (where the photobooth usually prints out both sets for two people) and they’re both own set of three pics. the missing fourth pic? well read on!!!! it’s only towards the end of this chapter tho LOL)

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @fiona782

previous │ masterlist │ next

it seemed like the few years you took was more than enough for time to ‘do its thing’, though. like always, you reconnect the following day in a blend of complaints and headaches, unknowingly on edge for every joke that you had proposed to the other.

“satoru, i hate you,” you coughed out with a gruff voice, head hurting from the incessant reporting on the morning news. everything’s a blur even after drinking the soup that nanami had cooked up, using a store-bought formula that tasted decent.

you’re thankful that you were able to at least sit across him, face on full view, to see how gojo would react to your quips.

“shut it, (y/n). you were the one acting like rachel mcadams in the 40s,” gojo groaned, downing another cup of steaming hot water in an attempt to quell the burning sore throat.

“pipe down, the two of you,” nanami sighed. he’s obviously picked up on the clouds hanging over your heads, from both your health and a possible argument, but doesn’t comment anymore as he cleans up the kitchen.

“i didn’t even get a chance to wife nanami up,” you yawn, snuggling more into the warm blanket, hardly minding the uncomfortable position on your small couch.

nanami let out a chuckle at that, “i just might have to take you up on that offer. all satoru eats is delivered food when i’m over at his place.”

satoru could only scoff, “do not!”

the manager isn’t one to fight back, so you argue in nanami’s stead.

“do too!” clearly, the noise only contributes to your splitting migraine, sinking back into the cushions as the pain shoots up the back of your head.

gojo’s ‘hmph!’ is heard, albeit quiet, the room soon dissolving into a comfortable silence. the news fades off into the afternoon dramas that no one usually watches, with the occasional rustle of gojo’s tee and the whispered clangs of pots in the kitchen.

the next few days are filled with tissue and hot water, while your relationship with the violinist slowly patches up like the shaky support of masking tape on a glass crack.

“no way she’s actually checking out the noise... bitch run!” gojo screamed at the television while you hid behind a cushion, prepared for the jumpscare that could happen at any time.

“you’re telling me,” you wiggle your mug of boiled water like a wine glass, “that you’ve never seen princess diaries?!”

“he was so horny that he had to wake up another girl?” satoru raises an eyebrow at the movie passengers, inclining back on the sofa with a disgusted look. “yeah, like you wouldn’t do that?” the narrowed eyes gojo shoots you make you crack up, even more so when he launches forward to send you into a fit of giggles with tickles.

it’s coming back, the gleam in satoru’s eyes when he talks to you and the unconditional smile he had. you see it in the way he throws his head back when he snorts and when he reuses the insults he’s used back in the day. they never fail to make you react in the same way, unfortunately always returning to your default state with a bit of caution and guilt.

“you’re terrible at blackjack, (y/n).” nanami states blankly one day, unfortunately being dragged into a game when he came over to check over the two of you.

“i will— not go that low— to insult nanami, because it is true. i am but a mere loser at blackjack, but! gojo satoru absolutely sucks at go fish,” gojo could only throw a dollar bill at you as a reply, stifling a laugh when it instead flies in nanami’s direction to hit him in the face.

“you suck at synonyms; why’d you pick codenames?” you scoff, “the fanfiction i wrote as a teenager would say otherwise.”

gojo hums in thought, “were any of your fanfics written about me?” you chuck the hourglass prop at him in retaliation, both jaws dropping when the sand inside leaks out. the other recovers first. “well, now we have all night for you to scour your brain for a word that describes both angry and sad!” the grin he had was shit-eating, clearly loving that he got to poke fun at you.

“that was one time! i said smad once!”

satoru notices your walls are lowering again, remorseful for having put you through countless days of dismantling and rebuilding but he hadn’t meant to do so. it was unintentional, and all he wanted was to be there for you when the walls fall. he wasn’t aware that behind those walls held more layers of protection.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you look him up and down, clearly uncoordinated from the waist down. as much as you know him to be talented at almost everything, dancing wasn’t one of them.

“tiktok, babe. come join!”

“what? nooooo!” the tug on your wrist is hard to resist, leaving you to stand cluelessly in front of the camera.

“what even is the dance? what- do i just stand here?” satoru answers your question by wrapping an arm around your waist, dipping you way too low. your surprised expressions are captured terribly well on the camera even after you’ve stumbled to stand up, leaving gojo with a smile as he reviews the video. “what even are you supposed to do?”

“copy a pose from one of those rom-com movies—i just chose the dipping down one. it technically woooould be better if we were dressed for it, but...” he shrugs. the immense amount of views the next day shock you.

among many movies, board games and tiktok reenactments, you could feel your body clearing up as it gets back its strength. the four days it took you to recover felt like a movie montage full of smiles and sunshine. it rang true, though, knowing you couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun and laughed so much.

“oh my god, are you actually practising while you’re sick? you’re crazy!” gojo calls out, peeking into the practice room where you went over the many pieces you’ve been doing for the past weeks. you simply raise an eyebrow when he refuses to leave.

“are you just gonna stand… there? can you help to close the door when you leave?”

“who said anything about leaving?”

“ugh, fine, just don’t be annoying or anything.”

“baby, this is gojo satoru you’re talking about, of course i’m going to be-” you launch an etude book right at his face, an old one that you don’t practice much anymore. it hits the floor more harshly than you intended, but the whistle of your friend causes no regret that you just did that.

“okay, okay, i’ll keep quiet. i just want to watch you practice,” he renounces his attitude, settling on the old bed that you always kept in the practice room.

gojo hums as you call out to him, the sizzling on the stove from nanami providing background noise paired with the muted action movie being played.

“did you enjoy yourself these few days?” it was a timid question, but one that you were set on knowing the answer for.

all satoru answered with was the gentle smile he’s given you at events and concerts, wordlessly leaning back to cradle his head behind his hands. his eyes are contentedly closed, but not before catching the mischievous twinkle that mimics a reflection of light on glass windows. it’s the same he’s always done when he’s walking, unbothered.

you know that’s his way of affirming whatever you said, noticing how gojo pops an eye open to see you still staring at him, to which you respond with a whip of your head towards the television.

a nonchalant expression is what you hoped was on your face, but your heart sprinted like crazy, mouth suddenly dry from the way gojo had caught you. you’re hoping that at least a distraction could help you, feeling your body instantaneously relax when nanami calls out for dinner.

“woah, nanamin! this tastes surprisingly good!”

there’s a scoff from nanami from across him, which elicits a shrug from gojo as he continues to scarf down the meal. it’s the only sound coming from the table while you enjoy the food silently, giving a thumbs-up to which nanami replies with a curt nod.

gojo doesn’t give up the chance to talk about the piece he’s currently working on: Wieniawski’s second violin concerto. Wieniawski’s not that hard of a piece, he puts it, even though gojo is speaking about Wieniawski, a complete virtuoso at the violin who just happened to include a crazy amount of techniques in his compositions.

every piece was carefully thought out, meticulous and flawless and intricate. although not as tricky as his first, the amount of practice needed to perfect the second is required as much as for the many other pieces under Wieniawski’s belt.

he talks both your ears off, going on and on about the many bars in the first movement that confuses him (of course, he doesn’t mean it). he mentions how much his fingers hurt to stretch across the fingerboard (he has big hands, he’s lying).

satoru sighs, “i’m also struggling about what story i want to portray. i’ve done this piece before, but it’s always for fun. people seem to like my Sibelius and Beethoven more anyway.”

you barely catch the next thing he says, “it’s like there’s no room to breathe,” seemingly spiralling into a never-ending loop of a curse. the curse of being such a celebrated soloist that he had no room to fuck up. but before you can lay a hand on his arm, he shoots up like a robot whose switch had been tampered with. it scares you, almost, but gojo does this too often for you to know when he’s serious and when he’s joking.

“that’s enough of me! let’s talk about you, nanami~!” in a singsong voice, he’s turned his full attention to the blonde-haired man with a cheeky smile, but the latter has other plans as he stands up.

“excuse me,” nanami cuts in with a monotonous voice and a deadpan expression that incites a laugh out of you. he pays no mind to satoru grumbling under his breath. before you know it, the manager moves to clear the rubbish, prompting you to immediately get off your chair in a fit of giggles to help him stack plates. as usual, the male makes no move to help as he remains there with eyes closed and hands behind his head. you would’ve reached out to brush your fingers through his hair again, but the dishes clanging against your sink is enough to make you reconsider your decision.

the silence is bearable while you clean the dishes, the soft sounds of the sponge mix with nanami’s practised wipe downs of cutlery and porcelain. nanami didn’t seem like someone who talked much, but you avoid eye contact anyway, fixated more on finishing the dishes.

“you know, i don’t care about whatever argument you guys had, but we need him at his best in a few weeks, yes?”

“a-ah, yeah, okay,” you’re stuttering, hands frozen at the sudden voice that’s spoken up.

nanami sighs, a gesture you’ve become used to in the time you’ve talked to him. they’re usually directed towards satoru, but now you can feel that it’s laced with disappointment and resignation that resembled a father figure.

“it’s painful, sometimes, i know. it’s visible in how you look at the man. there’s no lid on your overflowing feeling of envy,” his hands pause, too, the napkin clutched tightly in his fist. “but then, i see your relaxed features when you take secret glances at him, and there’s this longing feeling within you. you don’t know what to do. it’s... bitter.”

swallowing was all you could do, fingers filled with the dish soap as the bowl threatens to fall from your hands.

“is it that obvious?”

the next yes that follows is notably grim, letting on that this was stressing nanami out than he liked to admit. “gojo’s never been this distracted more. i’d like to think it was a mere fleeting feeling, but, well...”

you’re the one to sigh this time, continuing your tasks as nanami with his, the conversation dying off into the routine clean and wipe. the thought of the other violinist weighs heavy in your mind like nanami’s words does.

“thanks for the heads-up, i guess,” you mumble, putting away the last of the dishes that had you hypnotised from its water droplets.

drip. drip. drip. it’s awfully loud how the sound makes as it clashes with the cups just below, the small kitchen now entirely falling into a harsh stillness. “i understand, completely,” nanami’s voice is hoarse from the lack of use, but he doesn’t seem to mind before clearing his throat and leaning onto the counter.

“the feeling of always being second place. it’s not good, it’s not ideal, it’s not satisfactory, right?”

your elbows are then resting on the same counter, staring out the window just next to the sink.

“i just don’t understand how he does it. didn’t i practise just as much?” a shaky breath is heard, wondering what you were doing whispering to his manager when the person of your resentment just resides outside. you didn’t even know nanami that well, but here you were pouring your heart out to him. biting back tears was easy as your eyes linger on the flat across yours, but the next thing nanami mutters has your teeth clenching.

“i can’t be the judge of that, but i do judge based on facts.” nanami places a hand on your shoulder, “some are lucky, and some aren’t. some are picked out for their talent, and some...”

a pang of guilt flashes across nanami’s face as your shoulder tenses up and you sniffle.

“yeah, i’m aware,” the manager had half-expected you to throw a fit, to push him back to defend your position. the last thing he predicted was a gentle smile while you turn to him with puffy eyes.

you know your reaction’s caught the other off guard. “i’ve been made aware of that my whole life, so what’s one more, right?” sighing, you wipe your face of any evidence before patting your cheeks. there’s a torn expression that he puts on, mouth opening and closing as he debates an apology.

“’s fine, nanami. i get your values and stuff; you’re not wrong for stating a fact, yea?” your tired smile has him nodding stiffly, although he still feels the need to apologise with a “sorry” at the tip of his tongue.

“i get it, i get it. you don’t have to say sorry.” by now, you just want to keep quiet and zone out, taking a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. you hope the burning sensation of alcohol doesn’t trigger another sore throat, but you’re ready to bet on it with the lack of events on gojo’s side, “whiskey?”

nanami accepts it, heading outside with the bottle you handed him and some ice while you search through the cabinets for the glasses. it’s dusty, from how long it’s been in there, washing the dirt off before heading out to the main room.

seeing gojo in the same relaxed position that you two left him in brought you a bit of comfort; without a care in the world, without a single speck of worry across his features that made you wonder of the times where gojo had told you to just fuck it. you’ll deal with the consequences later, just take the risk!

you take in the calm breaths escaping his mouth, unusually silent as his finger switches between writing words on his wrist to tapping to the music playing in his head. like a switch, you realise you’re going through all the small things, unconsciously locking them away in your mind.

you’ve oddly memorised how he liked his tea in the morning (coffee’s too bitter for him) when you approach the dining table. as you fill in the whiskey for three, you recall that satoru preferred a slight crispiness on his food, whether it’s chicken or gyoza.

and when you finish pouring the third glass, the clink of the ice snaps you out of the trance, finally remembering that gojo was a lightweight.

gojo realises your thought process, chuckling at your facial expression before giving you a smile. he’s peeking at you with one eye open again, and if he can see that you’ve shed a few tears earlier, he doesn’t say anything.

“’s okay. give it to me,” he murmurs as if nanami wasn’t in the room, as if you’re the bartender in a shady bar ready to hit him up, as if you’re about to tease him about his low alcohol tolerance. but when his fingers brush against yours as you pass it to him — with the usual spark of energy and rush — your conversation with nanami wins against the little surge of feelings.

the thought makes you want to tap out and make a lame excuse of feeling tired, but nanami breaks the quiet with a stretch toward his glass.

“to gojo’s concert, to (l/n)-san, and to my declining physical health of being his manager,” nanami says plainly, and the dull tone elicits a giggle from gojo upon hearing the quip. you merely hum at it, raising your cup to meet theirs in a satisfying clink before downing the alcohol.

the soloist has no problem picking up the awkward atmosphere with his endless chatter, occasionally directing a question to you since nanami can’t be bothered to answer him. gojo stopped trying after the first question, getting only an expression of disbelief at the assumption that the manager would actually entertain his antics.

ah, well, it was worth a try. time passes fast like that and before you know it, laughter is prominent around the dining table. even the stoic male found himself cracking a few smiles, the alcohol providing a bit of slack when it courses through your bodies. you pass off the weighted words from nanami, although he still stays wary of your feelings with each calculated word. after all, you’re not exactly buddy-buddy with the man.

as you and gojo laugh at his manager, the conversation shifts from his career to taking care of the violinist, and then heads towards facts about you and now lastly, the solar system and Holst’s orchestral suite on it.

“if you ask me, nanami seems like a Saturn kinda guy. that piece represents the bringer of old age, right...? it fits him, i feel,” you had to stifle a laugh at that, almost choking on the last bit of your drink if not for your reflexes.

nanami rolls his eyes, knowing that he liked to poke fun at the former’s age despite being a year older. he looks to gojo without missing a beat, “well, i think you suit Pluto very well.”

you relish in gojo’s confused expression as the joke doesn’t sink in, “but there’s no Pluto in Holst’s suite-”

“exactly.”

ooh. burn.

the dam is broken before you burst out in laughter, your laugh taking centre stage in the small flat. the joyful atmosphere has nanami cracking a smile at his playful jab as a pout grows on satoru’s face, eyes flitting between the two of you.

“nanamin~ you’re so mean!”

you’re finally able to calm down from your high of giggling as you blink away a few tears. the other violinist’s also sporting a few snorts himself before you discover that there’s a lack of ice, both in your drinks and in the icebox.

“let me get more ice,” you mutter, quickly excusing yourself from the table. gojo has another idea, though, taking off in the direction of the kitchen but not before he weirdly seeks nanami’s approval and encouragement.

“go.” the manager departs from the dining table, then, heading to the couch to give you both some privacy.

there’s a small thankful smile that gojo manages to muster, expectedly walking in something that definitely wasn’t a straight line as the whiskey gets to him.

“aren’t you gonna ask what planet are you?”

the question catches you by surprise, but the more shocking factor was its murmur from gojo’s lips. his eyes swirl like the clashing of chaotic oceans in calamity among calm seas that lap lazily at the shore, and it shows in the way he’s looking at you: unrelenting contact with a hint of softness.

“huh?”

you’re wondering why he’s up from the dining table, knowing that the man is slowly losing his grip on sobriety before he shoots you the sweetest smile you’ve seen in a while. it’s a wonder you haven’t fallen into his trap that he’s set up tirelessly, where you’d willingly hold onto his hand and play with his fingers and hair.

satoru ponders on the same thing when your eyes focus on him from behind the freezer door, envisioning all the times that he wants to come back to you after a long day as he buries his face into your neck.

“don’t you wanna know?”

you hum, giving your full attention now that the icebox is out of the freezer. gojo moves closer to you with one hand on the door and a piercing stare like any other time. for you both, the hold of your eyes was the only form of communication for a splitting second. your gentle smile wasn’t held back, like the usual caution you had of being the victim of gojo’s pranks, but nor were you fully aware of your surroundings, still a bit drowsy from the mix of lunchtime medicine and liquor.

exaggeration was a result of your hazy state, raising both eyebrows in a state of thought, “enlighten me, satoru.”

satoru was no different, either, smile lopsided and body tired from the past few recovery days. he’s tipsy, you know, but he feels as if his heart’s bursting out of his chest when he watches your tipsy grin.

“Jupiter.”

you’re sure that you were close to freezing your fingers off. your body fits snugly against the kitchen counter as it stays turned towards the other, head tilted to an angle.

“really? why so?”

through your sleepy state, you still can see and hear the hesitation in satoru’s voice as he scours for an explanation. the smirk remains on your face as you enjoy the fluster on the other for a bit, taking note that his eyes glow a little bit more tonight. questions come one after the other, not caring much for the answers as your mind searches for why he’d choose the large gas giant.

“isn’t Sagittarius ruled by Jupiter? it would fit you more.”

satoru shrugs, “well... maybe but, if i were to take Jupiter... then my poor (y/n) wouldn’t have anything,” his silky voice is cut off with a swig of his drink.

you laugh nervously, dumping a few ice cubes into his glass when it departs from his lips. “what do you mean?”

“Mars is too war-like and military-driven. Venus is based on peace, which you... do not— have—” gojo giggles when you slap his shoulder, knowing it was all in good fun.

“Mercury is too jumpy for you. Saturn’s for old man Nanamin. you’re terrible at pranks and magic tricks, so it’s a no-no for Uranus, and lastly, i’m fully aware of all the stupid things you did as a kid, so there’s no enigmatic Neptune for you.” with his detailed explanation, the only response from you is an impressed nod.

“outstanding profiling. you got all that from criminal minds over the past few days? or just from your smart, analytical, musical mind?” even in your teasing, you find a way to show your sardonic speech.

“’course,” while your talk is sarcastic, satoru’s tends to cut off when he’s intoxicated. another fact stored away for another time. “i liked watching late-night reruns of criminal minds with you.” he doesn’t even acknowledge your joke on his advanced mind.

“why?” it’s a stupid question to ask, you know, but it’s the only word you can think of right now.

“why wouldn’t i?” his butt meets the countertop due to his towering height, with arms crossed against his chest with a shade of red dusting his cheeks, “i like—”

he shouldn’t look this attractive this late in the night.

satoru sighs, “i like spending... time with you, i miss spending time with you.” the whiskey provides him with room to daydream, lifted off reality even for a little while his eyes stare at the ceiling. the breath you’ve been holding in lets itself go, and so do the restraints on your heart. subconsciously, your single finger meets the back of his palm, and he wakes from his pondering state.

with that finger, you trace his name onto his skin. satoru, it reads, the singular character of ‘悟’ coming as a breeze to you and his breath hitches.

“are you as sure of that as you are with thinking that i fit Jupiter?” his laugh is like harmony to your ears, and you have to refrain from acquainting yourself with his hand once again. “satoru, to know and understand… enlightenment. i think you’re a little too confident in that when you spent half of an episode covering your face.”

“hey!” the other glares with feigned anger and with pearly whites that you want to be directed to you when he’s happy to see you in the morning.

“i am sure of that,” satoru’s voice lowers, getting to a whisper that’s shared only with the space between the two of you — the space that’s slowly closing.

“i’m glad, i’m glad,” you simply say with frantic nods when his eyes drop to your lips, retreating your finger without much thought before placing both hands on the counter. the same sinking feeling seeps in like the last time at the roof garden, and you’re the first to cower like you always do, fixated on the dull walls of the kitchen like they could pierce holes through the concrete.

“hey— hey hey, love,” the new pet name is barely audible, but it sweeps you from under your feet anyway. hearing it muttered so tenderly, with the gleam in his eyes, felt like everything fit into place.

“look at me, (y/n).” you’re so caught up in your fantasy that you don’t realise the overlay of wetness over your eyes, vision hindered by tears as it gradually dissolves into blurriness. “(y/n), love,” the concern on satoru’s face beat the usual confidence he has. it was the same concern when you’re up against reporters and the pesky flu like the one from hours ago.

“what’s wrong? aw, man, i did something, didn’t i?”

you shake your head, half answering him and half attempting to get his hands off your cheeks.

“it’s nothing, ‘toru. i- i... ugh...” you’re thrown in for a loop when he gently wipes the tears that are overflowing. there’s a significant difference between his hands to yours, grasping onto his wrists for some kind of support.

snot’s leaking, and your nose is scrunched up in pain, but he doesn’t have a care in the world at all. taking one of your hands in his, he brings you closer until your face meets his chest.

“why are you saying all this now?”

“because i want to! can’t i tell my fake girlfriend that? jeez...” his chin rests on the side of your head, partially talking into your hair. satoru smiles when your arms encircle around his torso.

muffled, your words are barely heard as your mouth moves against his shirt, “is that the alcohol talking, or you?”

“the alcohol is playing a part, yeah,” you sigh, and he pulls away to your chagrin, “but it is me talking, too.”

“is it really?” you murmur, temporarily forgetting about your bout of tears as you press a hand to ‘check’ his temperature. satoru swats your hand away jokingly, heading back into that dreamy state when your other meets with his nape.

“why are you telling me that i’d match Jupiter? why are you telling me that you like watching stuff with me?” a whisper and an avoidance of eye contact.

satoru is at his weakest now, as fingers twist his snow-white hair around the curves of your digits and your brushed-away hand ghosts over his shoulder; whatever joke that lingers on his tongue is gone. your eyes which were focused on the spot behind him, flickered back to his eyes and then, down to his lips.

you opted instead to have your eyes linger on his collarbones after, panicky and shifty at the way your eyes found his lips so quickly.

“what do you want me to say...?”

“anything but-!” your energy depletes to his lowest point, replaying this conversation in your head time and time again. writing out a script in your head meant taking on different possibilities, but the way this was playing out seemed to be going on an improvisation mode that left you troubled.

“can you at least tell me why?” your senses are heightened. the faint smell of alcohol laced with his usual minty breath, the tiny micro-movements that he reacts with, the sound of your heart beating in your chest that you weren’t sure even matched satoru’s.

you make a slight noise of objection when you hear the question, brought on next by a knit of your brows when he cups your face in his hands. “why are you making this so hard? why, why, why?”

i’m supposed to despise you! i’m supposed to surpass you and laugh in your face when i finally get what i want. i’m supposed to see you crumble in the seats when i get the applause and the praise and realise that talent isn’t all that.

that fantasy and alternate universe lives somewhere out there, nothing compared to the situation that’s currently playing out. you resented the soft touches he gave you, along with the smirks he’d shoot your way when someone complimented you.

but who were you to resent them when even you weren’t sure of your point of view? did everything appear like a reverie? or did you paint satoru in a world of black and white?

even your mind screamed at you to pick a side, and when your mouth contorts into one of heartache with the overspill of tears, you hated how even more gentle he was. you let satoru sweep you up again, both figuratively and literally, as he shushes you. he’s extra attentive to your growing frustration, recalling all the words he’s said to you on the floor in the very same house.

satoru knows your throat closes up and how uncomfortable you feel when tears get into your ears and neck. he’s aware of your restless hands, reaching everywhere and anywhere to clutch at something — fabric, a stone counter, his wrist.

you’re doing the same things as he remembers. like a cheesy scene, it rivals the one years ago when you’d learn of his mentorship, minus the complicating story and feelings.

“i’m here,” the two words ring in your head ironically, like an unending bell that won’t go away. it taunts you like a jester, surrounding you from all corners until they’re sure they’ve tormented you. when seated on the counter, you fail to meet satoru’s height. he humbles himself, though, by lowering to your eye line as he rubs comforting circles into the back of your hand.

“even when you’re crying, you’re beautiful,” satoru whispers, going back to brushing away your tears once he knows you’ve calmed down. although you’d like to spill more tears over that sentence, you hardly have any left and rather, your head collides with his chest.

“and you’re insufferable.” satoru’s chest rumbles when he lets out a low chuckle, not taking offence to it one bit. like a doll, you let your head go limp when you feel the other take your face into his hands.

“and you’re spent. c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

everything is quiet in the main room when satoru brings you to your room in a bridal carry, the absence of nanami not registering in your brains. before you can react to the familiar creak of the door with squirming and a faint “no!”, however, satoru’s already standing in the cosy area. the violinist grins, looking around your room to look at the various posters you’ve put up of him. there wasn’t a lot, but any more of those posters and his ego might just shoot through the ceiling.

“you didn’t tell me about your obsession~” he coos. you know he’s trying his best to sound neutral when your face was literally swollen with tear stains, but even then, satoru couldn’t hold back on his teasing nature. when he looks down at you, he finds you turned away from him, eyes narrowed and lips pouting.

“heh, okay, okay, i’ll shut up,” the other sets you down, ignoring the little thank god as he takes his time to admire a performance shoot at carnegie hall and another masterclass teaser shoot in germany. he doesn’t miss the little scribbles you had done either, printouts of worn-down photos next to the pictures of the two of you goofing off in a photo booth.

it’s been years that the corners have curled, and the paper reduces itself to yellow, barely sticking to the wall with the double-sided tape you used. as expensive as the tape was, it still held up after all these years. his fingers trace over the photos one by one, passing over the professionally printed paper of the posters and the inky, rough feeling of the A4 templates you used to jam into the printer.

“you still have these?”

wish i could’ve gone for your masterclass! ~(y/n)

lol, remember when we’d prank shoko and tell her that rehearsal was an hour early?

those memories that you tried to hold onto were plastered on your walls. there was a single pin on a particular sheet of music amongst your posters and pictures. the handwriting’s old, the pencil marks blurring from the years of exposure to light and heat.

ask satoru to teach you this, dumbass!

you can’t bother with a smile, producing a rather pitiful nod as you rubbed your blocked nose.

“i...” satoru pauses with a finger, possibly telling you to wait before taking a light jog outside. there are noises of him rummaging through a bag, and you take the opportunity to sit on your bed as he comes running back with a leather wallet, looking through it with determination in his eyes.

“aha!” his smile widens when he pulls out a folded piece of paper, showing a fancy frame around the two of you at the mall’s photo booth. it matched the three-photo set pasted above the bedside table, wondering why the photobooth decided to cheat your money that day. the bed dips under his weight.

your grins are priceless on the frayed photograph, arms wrapped around each other while your heads are pressed together. it replayed seamlessly in your head, and the next memory (and missing photo) makes you cringe.

“oh my god, i kissed you on the cheek after that one, didn’t i?”

satoru suppresses a laugh, “yes. yes, you did.”

“what happened to the fourth photo anyway?” you took a quick glance at the photos on your wall and back to him, noticing the way his white locks blew in the wind gently, almost in hypnosis. the only other thing bringing you out of the trance is his fingers turning the paper around to show you the one photo you’ve never seen your whole life.

eyes closed, heart thumping, fist clenched, all while planting a peck on the younger satoru’s cheek. the camera at the time doesn’t capture the shock on his face enough, although they seem to enhance the blueness of his irises.

“what? what the hell?” you grunt, kicking at the dispenser when it only produces three photos instead of four, albeit doubled due to the settings you keyed in before. you’re hopeful when you look through your wallet, though finding that you were a few cents short of another round.

you’re unaware of the way your friend manages to distract you, easily tearing out the last photo from each set using the perforated lines before putting it back into the photo tray, still warm from the photo-developing process in the machine.

satoru at the time only shrugs, “don’t look at me. i didn’t bring cash today!”

“liar. aren’t you always loaded?” you make grabby hands at him, ascertained on getting a hand on his wallet. with one glance, you trail your eyes down his arm that was tucked neatly into one of his pockets. “you’re hiding cash in there, aren’t you?”

“naaaah, nope! give me a kiss again.” you scoff, shooting him a disgusted look when he taps his finger against his cheeks.

“you’re insufferable!” you storm off after, leaving the other to fiddle with the two torn photographs in his pocket, slipping it into the wallet you failed to steal with the one photo that made him wish you did it again.

well, he’d tell you when he was ready, when he was sure you’ll stay in his life forever.

you shove him, “so you did tear it out to take it! i thought the machine really was broken.”

his laugh decorates the room with its brightness, “it was the last outing before i left, anyway. i wanted a part of you with me~”

you tch, nudging him with your foot, “that’s gross. cut it out— will i ever get the other picture though?”

his shrug elicits a curl to your lip. he surrenders pretty fast, “ow- ow! okay! give me like ten years, i’ll probably be back to the States by then.”

“it’s in the States? ten years?”

“told ya, wanted a part of you even during my mentorship.”

he sighs after your lack of reply, looking back down at the picture yet again with an uncharacteristic quietness to him. you almost think he’s going to keep it back into his wallet, but instead, he leans forward to you and past you to place it side by side with yours.

it completes the picture and the tear line. the ornate frame, probably created in MSPaint, connects as the exaggerated designs and stickers finally make the photographs whole.

you also almost think that satoru’s looking at the wall as you are, but when you turn back, you don’t expect him to be gazing back at you. his arm reaching past you feels too close, and you can feel his leg touching yours, knee to knee that it ignites your skin all around.

he swallows uncomfortably, and the only sounds apparent to you are the neighbours and his breath on your face. the only touch clear to you is satoru’s eye-catching hair under your hands, sticking out from in between your fingers when you run it through his white locks. there’s a flutter in your heart when he smiles at your soothing affection and leans into it.

you’re ready to conclude what you see: a lick of his lips, a hesitation in his other arm, a melt of his azure eyes.

but the list continues on when he finally meets you halfway with a slight nod from you. you see nothing but blackness as his lips descend on yours. it stops; the photo he was pinning to the wall drops from his hand, the other wraps around your waist and the weight he was holding is now released, breaking your fall as the other hovers over you.

you’re doing it again, (y/n).

he laughs. he has the audacity to laugh and make your heart clench up, to make your palms clammy and your body craving to feel any part of him on you.

and then when satoru kisses you again, blackness turns lighter, lighter until it turns as white as his hair before the colours start. yeah, clichéd, but you couldn’t deny the romance books you’d read under your covers. when you smiled ear to ear as the protagonist kisses the love interest, and their heart feels like it’s about to burst? it was worse than that. it hurt, it hurt so good that you only ever want to feel his body close to yours and his plump lips on yours.

no. no. no. stay away.

the other deepens the kiss when he turns his head, scooting closer with his long legs that it makes you smile at the sight. satoru feels like he’s dreaming, finally seeing you amongst his blurred visions of running away from a chicken or making small talk with an alien in a suit. those were just some of the weirder dreams he had.

occasionally, he did dream of you. he saw how you’d react dramatically to his success. he remembered one where he came back to find you, only to find you gone from your childhood home.

and now, he was dreaming too, in a way that it felt surreal that he finally feels you reciprocate without any hidden feelings. with a grin gracing your lips and your hands tangled up in his hair, all he could feel was you.

“are we really making out in your childhood bed?”

you throw your head back to laugh, even when there’s a big fat NO floating around in your mind, “this isn’t my childhood bed! did you forget that we grow up and grow taller? growth spurt? that cross your mind?”

“no no, not really,” the violinist fully cages you in now, body twisted over yours while you lay on your back comfortably.

“no— stop. are you gonna say ‘i’m the only one that crosses your mind?’”

satoru gasps, “oh, you! who knew you could be so cheesy?”

“piss off.” you push him off you with all your might, and he falls beside you in mixed giggling with you. you forget how strong he is, however, and within the next second, satoru’s pulled you atop of him. his hands trail up to hold your cheeks.

“now, how am i going to do that when i’m holding Jupiter in my hands?” the air is knocked out of you; and when your eyes soften, satoru’s sure he’s struck a chord within you. he offers a smile, and you return it tenfold, bending down to capture his lips passionately.

the no’s fade. it fades, and it dissolves. just let me be selfish for once, for once, you repeat over and over while you press further in his embrace. you smile, and he smiles. you laugh, and he laughs.

the second kiss is messy and uncoordinated, fitting in tiny little pecks before getting into its rhythm. you almost want to cry when his thumb strokes your cheeks tenderly, mouth moving slowly, lovingly when your hands do the same to his face. holding the golden prodigy of the classical world, nanami’s source of endless headaches, and a hell of an asshole of a childhood best friend.

oxygen is scarce, and it forces you to pull away. you’re met again with blue hues and a blinding smile that you need to hide the heat creeping up on your face.

“love, look at me,” satoru says for the second time that night, using little to no force to get you looking when you obey his command anyway.

“stay?”

“stupid, this is my room,” you’ve got no strength to talk loudly, muttering it out with a giggle laced within your tone. sleep and alcohol catch up to you too soon, but you want to be awake with satoru. he only shakes his head, placing one last kiss that lingers for too long that you have to break away, “what do you mean, then?”

satoru hugs you close to his chest, “’s okay, ignore what i said.”

you’re exhausted that you just fall back down onto his chest, content with the moments now and the reunited memory on your wall (even if you had to fish out the other quarter from under the bed).

[uselessheretic]

banri day?? banri????? i dont have anything new but ill post a scene from wip that will never be finished where juza goes to camp for two  weeks and banri experiences realizashuns

Banri rolled through morning practice like a derailed train. 

“What the fuck,” he repeated for what may have been the twelfth time that day. 

“Well,” Omi said while cocking his head and squinting at the screen. “I’m glad he’s making friends!” 

“Since when did Hyodo have friends?” Banri asked.

“We’re his friends.”

“And that’s a fat fucking L on your part, but me? I’m built different.”

Omi frowned as he puzzled over Banri’s words. “I’m sorry. I do not know what most of that sentence means.” 

“God Omi,” Banri said while sucking his teeth. “You’re so old.”

“I’m three years older than you.”

Banri furrowed his perfectly tweezed eyebrows as he considered that. “Nah, that’s fake.” 

Azami, interested in the conversation for the first time, took one of his earbuds out. “I have theories,” he stated. 

“About Hyodo?”

“Why would I––Nevermind. Anyways, I think Omi is evading tax fraud.” The way Azami stated it made it sound like he had put a lot of thought into this. It was a convincing argument.

“Hm…” Banri considered it.

“I’m a student…” Omi defended himself. 

“Yeah, tell that to the government, Boomer.” 

“I have an ID!”

“And I’m from a Yakuza family. I know that shit’s easy to fake, but whatever.” Azami gestured to his eyes signalling a I’m watching you warning. 

Banri slapped Omi on the back of his freakishly broad shoulders. “Come on, you are kinda a whole ass mom. I don’t know what aged you up like that.”

Azami scratched at his head, also thinking about it. “Trauma?”

“Maybe?” 

They both looked to Omi, who just shrugged in response. 

“I mean, yeah, probably,” he agreed. 

Mystery solved, Banri was more than ready to go back to the subject at hand. 

“I wanna see!” Taichi made grabby hands towards the phone still in Omi’s hands. Omi tossed it to him, and Taichi, only fumbling a little, made a triumphant noise when he caught it. His eyes flew wide when he pulled up the screenshot of Kazunari’s post. 

“She’s cute!” Taichi announced in a shocked voice. 

“It’s insane!” The beginning of a tension headache was starting to form. Banri rubbed viciously at his temples, as if trying to drill into his skull and rip the migraine out of his head. 

Taichi wasn’t helping as he cried out in jealousy. “No fair! I want to talk to a girl who’s that cute!”  

“She’s not that cute,” Banri mumbled. 

“Yes, she is!” Taichi insisted. “Azami, what do you think?” 

Azami yelped as Banri’s phone was shoved in his face. Reluctantly, he took a quick peak. “She has nice skin. It looks smooth and healthy. I think she needs a lighter moisturizer though. Juza better be wearing sunscreen out there.” 

“See, even Azami said she was a total babe!” Taichi said, triumphantly. 

“I didn’t say that!” Azami sputtered out. 

“When did she become a babe?” Banri complained. “What happened to cute?” 

With a serious expression, Taichi placed a hand on Banri’s shoulder. “Bro, you can be cute and a babe at the same time. Girls are versatile like that.” 

He put a little too much force in slapping Taichi’s hand away. “Shut up. Anybody would look cute next to Hyodo’s busted up mug.” 

Omi hummed in thought. “Do you think you might be a bit jealous, Banri?”

“Huh?” It was a ridiculous assumption, so ridiculous that it left Banri devoid of words and with his mouth hanging open in shock. 

Jealous? Jealous of what? That Hyodo could talk to some girl that wasn’t even that cute? 

Okay, maybe she was a bit cute in a tomboy-ish way, but “babe” was still going too far! She was just some girl. One with nice skin and a pretty smile who happened to be talking to Juza. 

There was no reason for Banri to be jealous because Banri was perfectly capable of walking outside and finding a girl twice as attractive to chat up. There was nothing special about getting lucky that a chick could stand his presence for long enough to engage in what was probably a dry and awkward conversation.

“Banny? You in there?” Taichi’s voice broke through like a lighthouse through fog, snapping Banri out of his thoughts as he waved a hand in front of his face. 

“Why would I be jealous of Hyodo?” Banri finally spit out. “I can pull girls way hotter than that.”

Omi chuckled awkwardly and turned away. “Not exactly what I meant, but sure.”

“It’s just a surprise is all! Since when did Hyodo talk to girls? Forreal, when has anybody ever seen him talk to any girl?”

“He talks to The Director!” Omi said.

“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t figured out that The Director’s a girl.”

And in a show of impeccable timing, that was the exact moment Izumi decided to enter the practice room with Sakyo trailing behind her. 

“Come again?” Izumi asked. 

“What the hell are any of you talking about?” Sakyo’s voice was practically a snarl. 

“No, really. Come again?” Izumi repeated herself, a smile on her face as she cocked her head in a questioning manner. 

Deciding that Sakyo was the less frightening of the two options to deal with, Banri held his phone up as he called out to him. “Furuichi! Hyodo’s being a whore on Instablam!”

A fascinating mixture of exhaustion, anger, regret, and even more exhaustion colored Sakyo’s expression. Knowing he didn’t want to hear an answer, but aware that there was no way to avoid it, Sakyo asked, “What?”

Omi tried to reign the conversation in as a voice of reason. “Banri’s just a bit worked up is all.” And then, in a stage-whisper that was completely useless, he said, “He’s jealous that Juza’s talking to a cute girl.”

“I’m not fucking jealous and she’s not fucking cute!” Banri yelled at a reasonable volume considering the circumstances.

“Christ on a fucking cracker,” Sakyo had reached the limits of his patience. “Everybody shut the hell up! Practice begins NOW!”

The small group of actors broke up, taking their cue to start setting up for practice, something they should’ve done fifteen minutes earlier. 

“She is cute though! Director, you should see!” Taichi said as he tried to carry too many chairs at once to clear the floor. 

“Banri’s just being mean,” Omi agreed as he took the majority of the chairs out from Taichi’s arm who had begun to tilt dangerously. 

“No, this whole thing is just bullshit is all,” Banri argued. “That has to look bad for the company, right? Isn’t he supposed to be acting, not slutting it up in the woods.”

“What?” Izumi asked. “What does any of that even mean, Banri!” 

Banri handed her his phone, pouting as he saw Sakyo take a half-interested peek over her shoulder. 

“Aw, he’s making friends!” Izumi said with not even a hint of slutshaming. 

“How is that allowed?” Banri asked. “And since when did he talk to girls? Come on, I can’t be the only one stumped by that!” 

The others in the room made some vague mumbling noises.

“I mean, did he lie though?” Azami said. 

“He’s allowed to make friends. That’s what camp is for! Do you think girls and boys can’t be friends, Banri?” Izumi’s voice was tactfully disappointed. 

“Don’t try to trap me, I took a Women's Studies course last semester,” he said while crossing his arms. “I know chicks and dudes can hang, or whatever.”

“I–Chicks? Seriously, Banri?” 

Banri blinked in confusion. “What? It’s not like I said bitc–”

Before he could finish his sentence, Sakyo smacked him in the back of the head. Hard. 

“Watch yourself,” Sakyo warned him. He sighed as he watched Banri rub at the sore spot pouting. “What would you even want me to do? Give him the birds and the bees speech?”

Banri balked at the suggestion. “Gross… I can’t even imagine what that’d be like.” 

“What?” Sakyo asked. “Do you need it explained too, Settsu?” 

“It’s awful,” Azami spoke with blank eyes that had seen horror. “Don’t do it. Save yourself.” 

“Juza and lady sitting in a tree,” Taichi sang out. “K-I-S-I-N-G!” 

“Shut up!” Azami shoved at Taichi with a bright red blush. “That’s disgusting!” 

“Agreed,” Sakyo said with an affirmative nod. 

Omi mouthed the letters while ticking them off on his fingers, “I think you may have missed a letter, Taichi. There should be two S’s,” 

“Huh? Are you sure? K-I-S-Ohhh!” The world’s smallest lightbulb sputtered on above his head. 

“No, it’s S, Taichi. S,” Omi tried to correct him. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Yeah, I got that!” Taichi said. “Juza and lady sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-”

“No!” Azami yelled. 

“Huh?” Omi said while furrowing his eyebrows. “It’s definitely two S’s. K-I-S-” 

“Stop talking about kissing!” Azami begged. He covered his ears, sinking to the floor in a horrified teenaged ball. 

Meanwhile, Banri stood off to the side. Tired. Defeated. “Izumi?” he called for The Director weakly.

“Yes?” she asked with concern in her voice. 

“I think I’m in hell.” He could barely speak above a hoarse whisper. 

Izumi patted him on the back, gentle and caring. “It’ll be okay, Banri. Although we will need to circle back to that ‘bitches’ thing later, kay?”

[lilxberry]

You Owe Me 20 Bucks - Steve Rogers

Synopsis;

Steve just simply wants to protect you, you find it extremely annoying how his plans to protect you get in the way of you doing your job as an Avenger, and Bucky and Sam have a running bet.

Warnings: A lil bit of language. Arguing. Mentions of violence. Mentions of betting. Wack ass stuff man. Fluff.

Words: 2,030

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader 

_______________

You walked into the meeting room, ready to be briefed by Fury for the next mission. This would be your first assignment in 2 months since your injury. Ever since you had woken up, everyone had babied you, especially a certain super soldier, which ticked you off to no end.

You took your place in-between Wanda and Bucky and prepared yourself for the droning voice of Fury and the nagging of Steve. “Hey, you good?”

You inwardly groaned at Bucky’s question. It was nice that the team cared so much but it was a bitch to deal with all their incessant babying and over protectiveness. “I’m fine, Buck, really.”

As if he could sense your irritation, he retreated and opted to leave you be. You signed in relief and sunk back into your chair. Just as you had gotten comfortable, Fury entered, followed by Maria then Mr. Patriarchy himself. “Avengers.” Fury simply greeted to grab everyone’s attention.

And so, the briefing had commenced and passed by, the only thing left on the check list was to discuss who will be part taking in the mission. “A team of 6 will be going in, the others will stay behind and only move out when needed. Stark, Barnes, Barton, Maximoff, Y/L/N, you 5 will be joining Rogers at the base.”

Before any body got the chance to voice their readiness, Steve had spoken up. “Y/L/N isn’t ready.”

You saw red as he had easily diminished your ability to be out in the field. “Like fuck I’m not ready.” You quickly stood from your seat so fast, the chair had scrapped against the floor before falling over harshly.

“If I say you’re not ready then you’re not ready.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, standing his ground. Thing is, you were stubborn, every Avenger and agent knew that about you.

You walked towards in quick, long strides and stared him down, inches from his face. “It’s my body, I know when it’s damn ready.” You stepped back and looked towards Fury. “So, when we due to head out?”

“In an hour.”

“Great, see you guys at the jet.” You quickly turned on your heel and headed towards your room, ignoring the calls of your peers.

“I guess that’s all. Dismissed.” Fury disbanded the meeting, sending the remaining Avengers to prepare for their mission or go back to lazing around, ready to be called out as back up. Steve sighed heavily through his nose as her closed his eyes and pinched the bridge between his pointer finger and thumb.

As Bucky passed his best friend, he patted his shoulder and flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sympathising with his friend. This is gonne be one long mission.

_______________

The time came for the team to meet at the jet. You stepped on to the platform and headed over to the jet to meet with the others. Just as you placed one foot on to the flying metal contraption, the blonde of the 40’s due spoke. “I said you’re not ready.”

You rolled your eyes and chose to ignore his complaints. Ensuring your gear that you’re decked out in is securely strapped on, you made haste towards a free seat at the back off the jet, unfortunately getting blocked off by Steves’ broad and muscular form. You huffed and quickly side stepped him, proceeding to sit.

“No matter how much you nag, they’re still gonna tag along, dude. May as well give up before you’re driven mad.” Clint commented, eliciting a soft giggle from Wanda and a snicker from Tony, both trying desperately to cover their amusement up in any way available to them.

“He has a point. Maybe instead of butting heads, you could help her through this mission.” Bucky spoke directly to his friend.

“Or they could actually listen and not go.” Steve narrowed his eyes towards your ignorant and slouched form, folding his arms across his chest. Tony rolled his eyes before making his way through the jet to pilot it.

“Okay losers, can we all quieten down now. Daddy’s got a jet to fly.” And with that, Tony had the jet off the platform and heading to your destination. Steve huffed and sat opposite you next to Bucky. He stared you down whilst you continuously ignored him through the whole flight.

_______________

“What the hell, Steve?! I had it handled!” You yelled at your fellow Avenger as you all boarded the jet, ready to head back to the compound.

“Didn’t look like it!” Steve had replied, matching your volume.

You scoffed and threw your arms up into the arm in exasperation. “You have a seriously fucked up hero complex, you know that?!”

The yelling match continued between you both throughout most of the flight. By this point, the others within the small confides of the jet had pounding migraines and are in need of about 20 Advils each.

As soon as the jet landed back within the grounds of the compound, you both stormed out of the jet, heading to your separate rooms, both slamming them shut as loudly as possible, hoping the other would hear and convey how pissed you were.

“Ah, young love.” Tony quipped as his suit disassembled from around his form.

_______________

It had been a full week of you ignoring Steve. He had tried previously throughout the week, but you blanked him, simply as if he hadn’t existed. He knew he seriously messed up the second enemy after enemy headed towards you. He knew you could have easily defended yourself and have taken them out even easier but, you were right. He does have a fucked up hero complex.

But mostly, he always felt the need to protect you. Falling in love with a completely independent and able Avenger is a tough gig. Apparently.

Steve had had enough and decided he was going to talk to you, whether you wanted to or not. He marched with determination straight to your room and knocked brashly. He heard you groan from the opposite side of the door before the light patter of your feet pad along the floor. You swung the door open widely with a look of annoyance across your face, but it had quickly faltered as you tried to close the door just as hastily. He jammed his foot between the door and its frame.

“Leave me alone Steve.” He could easily detect the irritation and impatience within your voice. He pushed the rest of the way into your room and you groaned loudly once again. “You clearly don’t understand English, should I try Spanish? German? Ukrainian? Mandarin?”

“Okay, I get it, you’re pissed and you don’t want to see me. Well tough shit.” He stepped closer to you as you stood your ground. “We need to talk whether you like it or not.”

“Oh yeah? And what do we need to talk about exactly?”

Steve inhaled deeply before continuing. “About how you’re acting. You can’t act like a stroppy teenager whenever someone gives you a helping hand during a mission.”

You scoff, unbelieving of what he is saying. “That wasn’t a ‘helping hand’, that was undermining myself as an abled agent and my abilities to handle the enemy. That wasn’t a ‘helping hand’, that was throwing me to the side while you did all the work.” Your shoulders heaved up and down as your breathing became heavier the more anger filled you.

“Jesus Christ Y/N, I was trying to help! I led the mission that day and it’s my responsibility if any of you screw up. All I did was ensure none of you did.” Steves’ voice raised to match yours.

“NO! You ensured I didn’t screw up because “I’M NOT READY!”” At some point you had started to pace around the room in an attempt to calm you.

Steve ran his hand down his face as he groaned loudly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, willing himself to calm himself down also. “I just care about you Y/N/N. Please, why can’t you just understand that.”

“Well, you should go care about someone else. I didn’t see you hounding Starks’ ass about being careful.”

“Jesus H Christ, I’m in love with you, alright?!” Steve had exclaimed loudly in exasperation. You froze on the spot and slowly turned, shock evident across your face.

“Wha-what?” You stuttered out in a quiet whisper. Steve registered what had just slipped passed his lips and opened and closed his mouth, attempting to come up with some form of excuse for what he had said. “What did you just say Steve?” You spoke, your voice raised, pronunciation clear.

Steve sighed and looked down before tilting his head in the slightest to gaze into your eyes as he spoke sheepishly. “I said I’m in love with you, I love you.” He searched your face for the slightest inkling of reciprocation in the mix of a million emotions displayed across it. It had been a good minute or so of silence as you comprehended what he had just told you. He began to feel self-conscious and paranoia presented itself within him deeply. “Please say something.” He pleaded, his voice quiet.

This seemed to have snapped you out of whatever trance had engulfed you and you swallowed thickly as you looked up at him with wide eyes. You willed yourself to be brave as if you were back out in the field. You charged forward and crashed your lips to his, the move bolder than what you were used to doing.

You grasp on to him tightly, afraid he would pull away, although, you knew that was not going to be the case for he instantaneously reciprocated the intimate action with as much gusto and desperation. His larger hands came to hold on to your hips, knuckles turning white from how tightly his hands balled up your shirt.

Sooner than you had liked, you both parted and laid your foreheads against the others as you panted, desperate for any intake of oxygen. “I love you too, Steve.” You whispered breathlessly, looking up into his beautiful, blue orbs. They had even seemed to have an extra shine in this moment as you gazed deeply into them.

He smiled a huffed out a small chuckle, his thumb rubbing up and down against your side in a soothing and loving manner. “God, you drive me crazy.”

You both continued to stand there for what felt like hours when in actuality, was only a minute or so. Suddenly, a loud knock at the door echoed throughout the room before opening and revealing Sam and Bucky on the other side. “Hey, you guys comin-oh, damn, our bad. We’ll uh, leave you to it.” And with that, Sam quickly turned and shoved Bucky out along with him as he closed the door behind them.

“I think you owe me 20 bucks.” You heard Bucky’s voice through the door which had muffled the sound slightly.

“Man, I was sure they’d go another week before one of ‘em confessed.” You heard Sam whine as you presumed while he fished out the bills from his pocket to hand over to his apparent betting partner.

Their interaction had caused both you and Steve let out a small bout of laugh before turning your attention back towards one another. “I guess we should head down for food, huh?” Steve suggested whilst he had a boyish grin etched upon his face.

All you could do was mirror his smile and release a near inaudible ‘yes’ as you nod and step back, taking his larger hand into one of your own. He quickly pulled you towards him to lay a final pure, sweet, gentle kiss upon your plump lips. “Let’s go.”

He led you out of your room and towards the elevator, ready to join the others for food. As you stood in the elevator, you felt Steves’ gaze on you. You turned you head and sent him a wolfish smirk. “Bet you 20 bucks that they told everyone.”

Steve threw his head back in laughter as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer into his side. “You’re on.”

_______________

Those pants are nice, yeah, just the pants, definitely just the pants I’m admiring, nothing else... *definitely is looking square at his ass* ...yeah man, nice pants...

_______________

.

.

.

.

.

I did a Steve fic, noice

I’ve been super sucky with fics recently but I mean, college stuff, losing family, this, plus messing my knee up badly yesterday after accidently yeeting myself down some stairs, it be like that 

I really hope you enjoy this

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

[gh0stiegirlie]

synopsis: all it took was one glance at the hotheaded boy at the U.A. exam, and you were smitten. for deku, it was a single act of kindness that instigated his immediate attraction to uraraka. several months into school, best friends y/n and deku are left heartbroken when. uraraka and bakugou start a relationship. when you and deku find yourselves confiding in each other, a question arises; is this love, or loneliness? are you two better just as friends?

length: 4k words

a/n: i editted this shit to the gods, man. i hope you all enjoy! also, i can describe this chapter in one word: angst, angst, and more angst.

<- pt. 1                                                                                                 pt.3 ->

Across the campus, Bakugou and Uraraka experience a similar feeling.

It’s their first night together, and they’re spending it cuddling in Urarakas room. As much as Bakugou enjoys her physical praises, from the way she gently traces her fingers along the curves of his biceps to how she nuzzles against his chest for his warmth; her soft, delicate form feels foreign in his arms. 

Most girls love the protection of their boyfriends’ embrace, but Uraraka feels suffocated. Yet here she is, wrapped up like the perfect little present in Bakugou’s arms.

With the weeks that pass, the couples irritations and questions only grow.

You and Izuku hold hands, loosely. You only hold hands for the experience of touching another, and to perpetuate the class consciences that you are the “most wholesome couple in all U.A.”

Although your thoughts are far from 'wholesome'. You feel guilty of a heinous crime, though you're roaming free. Because here you are, hugging, cuddling, kissing Izuku, but thinking about Bakugou. And here’s Izuku buying you lunch, dropping you off at class and occasionally carrying your books around campus, wishing you were Uraraka.

Uraraka experiences persistent headaches because of Bakugous yelling. All he does is talk about being a hero, or complain about Deku. Everything is fucking Deku Deku Deku. In her head, Izuku clouds Bakugou. Her thoughts of Deku encompass her mind even when she’s with Bakugou. Every time she passes you and Izuku tenderly holding hands in the hall, her heart tightens. While Bakugou tugs her around like a dog on a leash, Deku grasps you with all the pride in the world, a radiant smile on his face. Two things about Bakugou; He never discloses his emotions, and he's never gentle.

Bakugou spends all his days avoiding landmines. Uraraka is so fragile, he's afraid one day he’ll squeeze her hand so tight she’ll shatter. Anything and everything he does either offends, hurts, embarrasses, or irritates her. He’s going crazy with all the rules and expectations Uraraka forces him to meet. He’s like putty in her hands, and she’s trying to mold him into a different person.

Uraraka only enjoys being with Bakugou when they’re taking out their frustrations through make-out sessions.

Y/n only enjoys being with Deku when they’re using eachothers lips as a way to escape their isolation.

For a while, their bonds remain relatively stable. But as time goes on, the weak foundations their relationships were built on begin to crumble.

You and Izuku arrive at the common area after an intense sparring match, which you lost against Kirishima. You courteously accepted your defeat, though Izuku remains pissy about it. 

“I just-- I can’t believe you lost!” he expresses, refusing to accept your failure.

“I know! I work so hard, and I’ve never lost a match before! I don’t understand… ” You fix your gaze on the floor, not wanting to meet Izuku’s disappointed eyes. "I guess it’s good I lost today, because now I know exactly what I need to work on! I had no idea my mind can't pierce solid surfaces." It's honestly cool Kirishima's hardening quirk kept your thoughts from breaking into his mind. Now you know to practice sending your thoughts to another person through a wall. "I guess if I never lost, I would end up an egotistical maniac… Like Bakugou!” you joke with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah! You just have to work harder!” Izuku agrees. 

You appreciate his positivity. While his attitude is always upbeat with others, his comments to you are always nasty.

“Maybe you haven’t been working hard enough, but I know you can do better! Everyone does! " he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "So when you lose, it’s embarrassing...” 

You rip your hand away from Deku. “What? Who’s it embarrassing for? You?” you question accusingly.

“Y-Yuh-Yes!” he sputters, “When you lose, it makes others think I'm a loser too! And if I want to be the number one hero, I can't have people thinking that!”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you think. He considers you to be this bright and shiny object he can brag about at show and tell. Now, you’re losing your polish. You’re collecting a little bit of dust and a few scrapes, and he's losing interest. Already, Deku wants to move on to the next object that catches his eye. 

Not only that, but he craves whatever looks good on headlines. He desires magazine covers to display "number one hero marries highschool sweetheart!" He wants "unbeatable hero couple foil supervillain 100!". Apparently "Deku is never going to be the top hero because his girlfriend lost one fight her freshman year at U.A.!" is the article he's currently imagining. 

“I’m not just some gold medal you can show off to others, Izuku. And I'm especially not some perfect little prize you can wrap up in a cute little bow. I’m human. That means sometimes I win, and sometimes I fuck up.” you retort calmly, trying to keep your cool. 

“We’re called the golden girl and boy for a reason. We’re supposed to grow up being the perfect, powerful couple,” he reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. 

“It doesn’t really seem like we are, does it?! Our whole ‘golden couple’ label is complete bullshit!” you bicker. “We, as people, aren’t perfect. We never will be. No one ever will be!" You laugh humorlessly. "And our relationship sure as hell isn’t.” 

Deku closes his eyes with a sigh. “We--We just have to try. I’m doing my part to work as hard as I can to get better. I’m not going to suffer because I'm carrying your losses on my back. I'm not letting you get in the way of my dream to be the number one hero.” 

You get it. Because he's praised for his powerful physical quirk, he thinks he's better than you. Because he's physical quirk always leaves him battered, he thinks he's suffered more than you. Because he can go to the gym every day, get ripped and show off his muscular calves with every kick, he thinks he works harder than you.

After months of petty arguments, Izuku has finally found a way to make you snap.“Oh shut up, Izuku! You know I've worked my entire fucking life for where I am now! I've told you stories from my past I've never so much as mentioned to others! How I went home crying from middle school every damn day because of migraines! How everyone there considered me some kind of--of alien, some freak because I'm able to get inside people's heads! How I was bullied for practicing my power because kids considered it a quirk more suited for a villain! It was hard, but I managed to ignore all that crap and kept working! And I still work hard. Every. Single. Fucking. Day." You take a ragged breath, unphased by Izuku's shocked expression. Good. He should be shocked. He should feel bad. Because he's crossed a fucking line. "And how come it’s only bad when I lose when you’ve lost plenty of times, Izuku?! ” You pointedly stick your finger at him and poke his chest with it. “Remember how you practically failed the entrance exam?! How about when Todorki beat the crap out of you at the Sports Festival!” you yell. With every point, you shove your finger into Izuku's chest. Eventually, you push him against a wall. “Don’t try and act like you’re above me because you have a powerful external quirk.” You shut your eyes and when you open them, they’re glowing e/c. “Because my mental quirk can fuck someone up just as bad as any of your stupid punches.” You warn, before whirling around. “I’m going to my room, Izuku. Come with me if you want.” 

Of course, he follows you like a lost puppy.

Every pitbull is an adorable, loveable puppy before it grows up into a vicious hound. You thought you could fall in love Deku, you really did. But you were capable of loving the Deku whom Izuku pretended to be. The innocent Deku you approached on the first day of school, after noticing he was acting as flustered as you felt. The thoughtful Deku who wanted nothing more than a friend to run to the vending machine with between classes. The friendly Deku who you invited over to movie night, who buried his head into his blanket in embarrassment every time two characters did it on screen, and cried every time someone died. 

You could've fallen in love with your best friend.

Either he's changed, or since you're his girlfriend, he can’t hide who he truly is anymore. You know how he will do anything to have the public opinion in his favor. You know he will sacrifice anything during his climb to Number One Hero, even if it’s crushing you. 

You wordlessly walk side by side to your dorm, but as you near the dorm hallway, some bitch interrupts your silence.

“Why do you always have to yell, Bakugou!?” Uraraka yells from inside Bakugou’s room, which is coincidentally a few dorms down the hall from yours. You and Izuku turn into the hallway in time to witness Uraraka barge out of Bakugous room. She rubs her temples in frustration. When she notices the two of you outside your room, she eases her body language and lowers her voice to sweetly ask, “Can you just calm down, babe?”

“Don’t order me around! I’m being perfectly calm and rational!!” Bakugou shouts in response. “You’re the one who needs to calm down! You’re worked up over nothing! This is how I am, and I’m not going to change for some shitty woman!” he storms over to Uraraka, oblivious to the fact you and Izuku are watching this play out. That, or he just doesn’t give a shit.

Uraraka gasps. “I’m your girlfriend, you can’t call me that!” she chides. “This is exactly what I don’t like about you! You’re so aggressive all the time!” She fusses, like a child having a tantrum. Her bangs dance around her head as she stomps away from Bakugou, but he grabs her wrist to keep her in place. "Let me go! Being around you gives me headaches.”

“We should probably go~” Izuku whispers, attempting to open your door.

You slap his hand away. “I wanna see what happens,” you whisper back.

Izuku nervously glances between you and the arguing couple. “You’re so nosy! Come on, we’re leaving.” he decides, but you try to stay put. He then simply uses his quirk to overpower you and drag you inside, though even through four sets of rooms and a closed door, you can hear their argument.

“Being around you gives me headaches! All you do is nag about that nerds shitty girlfriend, and how shitty I am!” Bakugou explains. His insult doesn’t hurt you as much as you expect it to, because you can hear it. To someone who hasn’t listened intently to his screams and threats for the past few months, his voice appears as crass as always. But you hear the desperation in his voice. All he wants is for Uraraka to read between the lines and hear what he truly is saying, but no matter how hard he tries, she doesn’t. And it’s hurting him. He’s frustrated and in pain, because all she wants is for him to change every aspect of himself. Can she not see that? “Getting a girlfriend isn’t a part of being a hero, and it’s not something I need to pick up on my way to the top. I’m doing this because I can stand you. But I don’t need a damn girlfriend, especially when all mine does is make me feel like crap.” He’s describing his feelings in his own Bakugou way, but she doesn’t understand his language. And by the way he worded this last sentence, it sounds like he’s starting to give up. 

“If you don’t need me, then why are we dating!”

At this point, you’re sick of hearing their bullshit. You leave your room to yell at the couple and hopefully get them to shut the fuck up.

Izuku tries to hold you back. “Leave it alone!” he hisses, but you leave anyway.

“Uraraka, can you shut the hell up?” you jeer. This is the third time this week she’s made your fucking ears bleed with her screeching. Bakugou leans on the all and snickers, convinced someone has taken his side. But oh, if the boy who broke your heart thinks he’s safe from your candor, he’s wrong. You jut your chin at him. “And Bakugou, go find a wall to punch.” You turn towards your door. “Go work this shit out in couples counseling or something. 'Cuz you guys need fuckin therapy.” 

Bakugou snorts, enraging Uraraka. First, you steal Deku, and now Bakugou’s laughing at your jokes? Not happening.

“Leave us alone, Y/n!” she huffs, her pink cheeks now red with irritation. You flip her off before slamming your door shut. Bakugou’s eyes gawk at your closed door, unsure if he loves you or hates you. Either way, your remarks emit a small, impressed ‘huh’ from him. 

From that point on, Bakogous thoughts of you revolve around one question; Who knew the golden girl was such a badass?

After months of sleepless nights (due to overthinking Izuku's daily insults and listening to Bakugou and Uraraka’s endless arguments), your first year of U.A. nears its end. On one hand, you’re excited to take some time for your mental health. On the other, you’re going to miss kicking ass in weekly training (especially Izukus), and then following those brawls with Class 1-A movie night (which Izuku always spent touching you as minimally as possible, either because you ‘barely won’ or because you defeated him). Bakugou can't wait to get the hell away from Uraraka and her endless spew of horseshit. She doesn't know how to do anything but make crap float and talk shit about him or Izuku’s girl. She always goes on and on about how exhausting his yelling is, but listening to her nonstop yabbering makes spending summer locked away, either in a gym or in his kitchen, sound like heaven on earth. 

With only a month of school left, Izuku waits outside your dorm for you to finish getting ready for the day, growing anxious as the minutes’ tick closer to the first bell.

A few doors down, Uraraka impatiently taps her shoe on the ground as she waits for Bakugou.

If there’s one thing you and Bakugou have in common, it’s your impunctuality. 

“Hey! Sorry that took so long! I kept fucking up my eyeliner,” You exit your room and blow a stray piece of bangs out of your eye to check out your wings on your phone screen. “Nice,” You shove your phone into your bag, satisfied.

“Babe, you don’t need to spend so much time on makeup!” Izuku cups your cheeks with his hands, but focuses on your eyeliner instead of your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. “You’re beautiful without it,” 

He says it politely, but you know this a backhanded compliment. He hates that you wear makeup, even though its the barebones that simply consists of mascara, eyebrows, and eyeliner. He prefers ‘natural’ girls, even though there is no way Urarakas cheeks are naturally that pink. You push his hands off your face. “I know Zuzu, thank you. But I like it.” You hold his hands tightly before dropping them.

Uraraka cringes as the sight of her boyfriend. “Katsuki!” she whines. Even though the whole point of the uniform is to signify everyone's equality, Bakugou loves wearing it in a way that screams “I’m the main character and better than you!” 

His baggy pants sag to expose his shitty job of tucking in his shirt, and ball around the combat boots he refuses to take off. Per usual, he leaves his buttons undone and doesn’t bother wearing the staple red tie.

“How come you’re late but still look like a mess?” Uraraka complains. She reaches out her hand to arrange his askew vest, but he pulls away from her. 

“I’m fine.” he aggressively grabs her hand and begins to pull her towards class. “Let’s go,”

Uraraka spots Izuku watching and stops Bakugou dead in his tracks. 

By planting a giant kiss on his face. 

“Eugh. Get a room!” You grouse, rolling your eyes at the repulsive sight. But Uraraka keeps it going by practically shoving him against the wall. “You might as well pull down his pants and suck him off while you’re at it!”

Bakugou pulls away from Uraraka to snicker at your comment. 

Hearing Bakugou snigger at a joke you made… It gives your heart a reason to beat for the first time in months. You proudly slip your fingers into Deku’s and glide away, Bakugous eyes following you entire time.

The halls are nearly empty, only a few irresponsible students straggling to class or hovering around their lockers.

“So, do you want to be partners for the Aizawa project?” Izuku questions, like either of you have any other friends to partner up with. He hauls you along as he speedwalks to class.

“Yeah! I wonder what it is.” You move at a steady pace, knowing there's plenty of time to enjoy a pleasant walk to class together before the bell rings. 

“I don’t know! Mirio and the other third years wouldn’t tell me!” Deku whines, tugging at your hand to bring you up to speed. “Y/n, hurry upppp! We’re going to be late!” 

“Dude, you’re gonna rip my arm off!" you moan, rubbing your forearm.

“Shhh,” he hushes. 

Although you expect this attitude by now, it still pisses you off. If Deku expects you to deal with him treating you like garbage, he's wrong.

"You'll be sorry the next time you do that," you mumble, but he pretends not to hear, instead using his quirk to squeeze your hand in reply. Hard.

You barely wince.

“Now let’s go into class!” Izuku intertwines your fingers, straightens himself up, and tells you to put on a smile. He doesn’t do this because wants to hold your hand or genuinely cares about you, but because he enjoys the dramatic chorus of cheers you two always receive as you enter the classroom. If there’s anything Deku likes about your relationship, it’s how he gets to show you off like a trophy. His trophy. 

You enter class, and Mina immediately screams about how cute and perfect you two are together.

The golden boy and golden girl are dating. Honestly, who wouldn’t love that?

Bakugou doesn’t. He scoffs and turns away while everyone else encourages your shit show. Uraraka claps stiffly.

The corners of your mouth sink the instant the class’s attention shifts to some dumb pun Kaminari made. Bakugou is the only one to notice your smile fall when you reach your desk. He notices how you lean your head against the palm of your hand to stare out the window instead of at your boyfriend. You look… Tired. Like you’re tired of this act while Izuku relishes in the praise. Currently, he’s making a show to Uraraka of all the cute dates he’s taken you on while you create a show inside your head. A show where you and Bakugou are the ones going on cute days. Izuku uses his conversation with Uraraka as a way to silently convince her he’s better than Bakugou (and she’s falling for it), while you are just silent.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the eerie feeling of someone watching you sending your mind racing. When you turn to discover Bakugou is the one studying you, your face turns dark red and you immediately look away. The blush only fades once Aizawa starts talking.

“Class, today I will assign your partners for the quirk assessment.”

“Assign?!” The whole class screams in unison horror.

“Why are you assigning partners?!” Mina cries out, dramatically fainting across her desk. 

“Yeah! That’s not fair!” Kaminari adds on furiously.

“Nuh-no it’s not!” Mineta defends Aizawa’s decision, but internally drools over the idea of being paired with a girl.

“Settle down,” Aizawa silences the class with a single wave of his hand. “I understand you want to choose your partners, but in this assessment we want you to study the quirk of another person. Most likely, you all already know about your closest friends quirks. I want to pair you with someone new so you have to learn about a quirk you know nothing about.” he explains, to which the class to a reluctant conscientious that it's a good idea.

He clears his throat. “So, Mineta and Hagakure”

Mineta shrugs as if to say “good enough”, while Hagakure groans in disgust. 

You tune out the list, only listening for Izuku and Bakugou. As more names leave Aizawa’s lips and Izuku is already paired with Kirishima and Uraraka with Momo, you start to wonder who your partner will be. Who else hasn’t been mentioned? Damn, if only you had paid attention.

Finally, Aizawa reaches the last set of names. That’s when it hits you.

Aizawa hasn’t said Bakugou’s name.

“And…”

There’s no way.  This can’t be possible—

“Y/n and Bakugou.” Aizawa sighs. “You will have a presentation due on each other’s quirks next week. Get to work” he explains before zipping himself into his sleeping bag and flopping to the floor. 

You remain glued to your seat, completely frozen in shock. 

You already have a feeling this project isn’t going to end well. 

“Hey! Y/n!” Uraraka calls out from across the class, before squeezing through people to get to you. She pushes out her lip, clasps her hands together, and widens her eyes till the twinkle. “Do you think I can be with Bakugou, please? We’re kinda dating!” she exclaims as if it wasn’t obvious by how they were literally making out in front of you this morning. 

Without a second thought, you reply. “No.” You walk over to Bakugou and sit on his desk. “Sorry. I don’t want to bother Aizawa” you shrug nonchalantly, angering Uraraka to no end. But you know she’s too kind to say anything, and merely smiles to distract you from the steam spewing from her ears. 

“Okay! That’s fine!” she skips over to Bakugou and kisses his cheek. “Have fun babe,” she whispers before walking away with clenched fists. 

You think it’s interesting Bakugou didn’t say a single thing during the whole interaction. 

Does he want to be partners with you?

Or are you just the better option compared to his girlfriend?

Either answer is a good one, you suppose.

“Tch. Follow me, extra. We’re going outside.” Bakugou leaves his seat and shoves his hands deep into his pockets before lumbering away, leaving you to catch up. 

“Hey-- Wait up!” You call out. Bakugou huffs and leans against the doorframe. “Why are we going outside?”

Bakugou quirks an eyebrow at you with a smirk, igniting explosions from his palm. “It’ll be easier to learn about your quirk if I’m trying to blast you to hell.” 

“What?! No! I’m not fighting you!” you retaliate, stepping back into the classroom. You’re not in the mood to get your ass kicked by Bakugou, as hot as that sounds. 

“No wonder you’re dating Deku, you’re a coward too!” Bakugou taunts, his outburst washing a wave of silence across the classroom. You manage to keep your body relaxed and expression unperturbed, though fury rages within you. You will not let his intimidation frighten you. You refuse to be the reason he wears his sneer of satisfaction, that sickening smile that appears every time he successfully threatens or demolishes an opponent. 

You stare at the ground as dozens of eyes burn into your back, eagerly awaiting your response. 

Then, you do something you never thought was possible.

You raise one of your fists and punch Bakugou’s pretty face. 

“It’s on, Bakugou.” You spit. Before he reacts, you sprint down the hall towards the training grounds. 

[shewhoridesonrainbows]

Words Upon Your Skin - Ch. 3

AO3

Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4

20 Minutes Earlier - Gotham

 Damian wasn’t technically disobeying his father. Batman had told Robin that they couldn’t follow the suspects during the day because their suits were too noticeable in the daylight, nobody said anything about Damian. So, dressed in the most generic get-lost-in-a-crowd he owned, Damian tailed the two men.

 The GCPD had asked for Batman's help to bust up a human trafficking ring that had brought in hundreds of down-on-their-luck girls from other countries. According to the files Gordon gave the team, the men ten paces ahead of Damian were part of the group behind everything. All Damian had to do was follow them long enough to find out any useful information but so far the only thing these two had done was eat at a shitty diner then walk four blocks down the street.

 Looks like this is going to talk a while. The thought had barely crossed his mind when Damian saw the men duck into an alley. Shit. He picked up his pace, he couldn’t lose them now. He slowed just as he reached the corner and stopped to carefully peek around, As soon as he spotted the suspects standing halfway down the alley, having a conversation with a new person, he knew he’d most likely hit the info jackpot. A quick glance around and Damian found the perfect hiding spot. Crouched as low as he could get, Damian dashed to the side of an overflowing dumpster, One of the men turned just as Damian was out of sight. If he was a spiritual person he would’ve thanked whatever God of Luck that was smiling down on him in that moment. He breathed silently and waited for the conversation to continue.

 “So, like I was saying,” one of the men Damian was originally tailing spoke, “the boss wants everyone there by 11 tonight.”

“Damn, I really hate the docks,” another commented, “the salt in the air makes everything feel sticky.”

Damian heard a smack echo against the brick walls.

“Suck it up and stop being a lil’ bitch,” and there was the third. “We’re gonna make bank off of this shipment, I heard there’s a couple French ones this time around.” the first let out a low whistle.

“Where’s the cargo being unloaded this time?” the second asked.

“Jeff lined some pockets to keep the dogs from sniffing around Pier 5.”

“Good going Jeff!”

Yeah, good going Jeff, Damian thought. Too bad I just have to bring Titus. It was time to get out of there, Damian had all the information they needed for a Batfam raid. He had just started backing up when a fourth voice sounded from behind.

“Looky here boys!” A large hand lifted Damian off the ground by his hood. With lightning fast calculations, Damian determined it safer to act as non threatening as possible. “Y’all had yourselves an eavesdropper!”

 Time to lay on the act.

 “L-look I barely heard anything,” he stuttered. “I was just passing through and didn’t want you guys to see me.” 

One of the original two stepped forwards, “C’mon, man,” the one that doesn’t like ocean air, Damian’s mind supplied, softer than the others, “let the kid go. Some Gotham street kid ain’t gonna hurt us none.” The behemoth holding him grunted and started to lower Damian to the ground but as soon as his shoes touched down the voice behind him sounded again.

 “Don’t ya think he looks kinda familiar?” All four men examined Damian’s face a little closer. One of them took out a phone, typed something quickly, then turned it around for everyone to see. And sure enough, there was Damian’s own face staring back at him from the screen. Shit. I’m never going to hear the end of this from those idiots at home. 

 The one with the phone chuckled, “We just bagged ourselves a Wayne!”

Damian had to think of a plan to get away without letting these criminals know that he was any kind of actual threat, so kicking their asses and running wouldn’t work, especially since they knew who he was. His brain was going rapid fire through possibilities as the men around him discussed what they wanted to do, getting increasingly agitated.

 “All I’m saying is that Brucie will pay a pretty penny to get one of his brats back.”

 “And I’m telling you that we don’t want to get that kind of attention.”

“We can’t just let him go though, who knows what he heard!”

“Guys, guys,” the one still holding Damian spoke in a smooth, calm voice, “it’s simple.” Damian felt the man shift a little. He’d barely gotten a look at the syringe in the man’s hand before there was a sharp pinch in his neck. It felt like ice was coursing its way through his veins. The shock of it kicked his instincts into high gear and Damian twisted out of the grip on his hoodie. Whatever was in the syringe was fast acting though because his knees had collapsed beneath him as soon as his weight wasn’t supported by the man.

Damian finally got a good look at the guy that was holding him when the man knelt down and grinned into the teen’s face and started in on the stereotypical villain monologue.

“See, Lil’ Wayne,” he held up the now empty tube in his hand, “this stuff here is what we use on the girls to knock ‘em out. Super quick and causes memory loss.” 

 Damian could already feel himself losing consciousness. Fuck. He had to force focus back on the new bane of his existence.

 “Side effects include headaches and heat flashes. And you won’t remember the last 30 minutes.” He stood and took a step backwards. “Nice meeting you. Wish we could’ve chatted longer.”

The men laughed and started walking away, Damian glaring at their backs until his vision started to darken.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he lost the ability to stay sitting up. This was going to be for nothing. I have to find a way to remember. Then an idea struck. He used the last of his strength to get the pen out of his hoodie’s pocket and shove a sleeve away from his wrist, exposing just enough skin for a short message. He was only able to jot down the basics; When, where, and that they needed a canine sense of smell. 

 With the last ‘S’ written Damian succumbed to the drug.

 ***

It was the ringing from his phone that finally brought Damian back into the waking world. He groaned at sat up, rubbing his aching temples. What the hell happened?

 The phone in his pocket went off again, the sound making his headache even worse. He answered without even looking at the caller ID.

“Yes?”

 “Where the hell are you and why haven’t you answered us before now?” his father’s voice came from the speaker. He examined his surroundings. Dirty dumpster in the middle of some alley. 

“I’m not completely sure,” he admitted, “it appears I was drugged.”

 “You were-” his father started. Damian could tell his father was trying to calm himself down so he waited patiently. “Just turn on your locator and one of your brothers will pick you up.”

“I hope it’s Grayson,” Damian said as he pushed the special button on his phone “I don’t want to hear Todd’s comments until this migraine is gone.” He stood and started walking towards the street.

“Did you at least find anything useful?” his father sighed. With the phone still pressed against his ear Damian checked himself over for any kind of notepad or scrap of paper. He was about to tell Bruce that it had been for nothing when he noticed the edge of ink on his wrist. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder then tugged his jacket sleeve to expose the sloppily written message.

“Yes, father,” Damian said with a smirk. “We’ll be needed at Pier 5, 11 o’clock tonight. We should bring Titus to help find the girls.”

“I’m not happy with you,” Bruce started, “but this might have saved them. I’ll see you back at the cave.” The call ended with a click.

Damian pocketed his phone and waited.

 He glanced back down at his wrist and caught a glimpse of another message further down his arm. A quick tug revealed more writing but this was different. Instead of the ink on the surface of his skin, this seemed to be coming from within...and in French.

 “ ‘I’m happy to finally talk to you’,” he translated out loud, “ “I hope we can talk more after this. I’m not going to ask why you had not written before now but just know that I’ll be here for you if you ever need someone to talk to.’ “

 Holy shit, I have a soulmate.

To say Damian was stunned would’ve been an understatement. He silently cursed his habit of wearing long sleeves. He could have known about his soulmate’s existence ages ago but anything they might have wrote him before went ignored because of the stupid barrier of fabric.

 Wait, why am I upset? I never needed someone. 

 The roar of a motorcycle approaching snapped Damian out of his downward spiral. And just his luck, Jason Todd was the driver. He yanked his sleeve all the way down and stepped out to meet his most annoying brother.

 Todd pulled to a stop right in front of Damian and tossed him a helmet. “Heard you got into some trouble, Demon Spawn,” he laughed as Damian caught the sleek protective gear. “C’mon, B is waiting.”

 Damian grumbled as he slid the helmet over his head, there was too much to do tonight for him to think about his surprise soulmate. Of course the afternoon that he was drugged then discovered that he had a soulmate was the afternoon that Todd got to him first. Although, Todd was the only one of them without a soulmate, so maybe Damian could ask him what he would do if he suddenly found out he had one.

As he climbed on the back of the bike, Damian formulated a plan. Todd revved the engine then abruptly took off towards home. 

Damian would never admit to having to “work up the courage” in any way, he just mentally prepared himself to ask Todd this question: “What would you do if you suddenly found out you had a soulmate?” The comms in the helmets made his voice crystal clear so there was no way of taking it back and accusing Todd of mishearing him. This was it. 

Years of experience on the backs of bikes kept Todd from swerving in surprise, but the wheel did stutter for a second. 

“Are you asking for curiosity’s sake or is there a reason behind this?”

“You are not to tell the others,” Damian hissed. “Not until I finish planning what to do.” Todd nodded his agreement to Damian’s terms. 

“At some point before I fell unconscious, I was able to get some useful information on the human trafficking operation. The suspects must have told me that the drug they’d given me causes memory loss because I wrote the info on my wrist.” Damian paused as they turned a corner. “When I woke up I had more writing on my arm. Not in my handwriting and nothing like I would ever write myself.”

“How’ve you gone this long without knowing you had a soulmate?” Damian sneered at the question.

“You were with the League,” Todd’s shoulders tensed, “you know as well as I do how they view soulmates.”

“Yeah,” Todd grunted, “useless except as pawns to use against them.” Damian nodded.

“By the time most people get to the League, they’ve already proven not to have a soulmate. I’m the only person to have been born into the League that didn’t reach the part of my training where I would’ve hunted down my soulmate.”

They were both silent for a second, then Todd asked, “What would you have done when you found them?”

 Damian was silent a moment longer.

 “I would’ve killed them.”

NEXT

[stuff-of-pi]

50 Questions You’ve Never Been Asked

@back-in-silver-and-green tagged me and I thought this was super fun!!!

What is the color of your hairbrush? Pink, but I use my mom’s a lot and that one is black.

A food you never eat? Celery. I hate that stuff. Icky!

Are you typically too warm or too cold? Too cold! Someone should totally come cuddle me to fix that <3

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Eating dinner with my folks :)

What is your favorite candy bar? 100 Grand bars!!! SO GOOD!

Have you ever been to a professional sports event? Heck yeah! I got to rugby games with my family all the time. When I was younger, we used to go to Colorado Rockies games, but baseball is boring (sorry my baseball lovers!)

What is the last thing you said out loud? 我愛你爸爸！(I love you dad!)

What is your favorite ice cream? Extreme Chocoloate Moose Tracks

What was the last thing you had to drink? Water :D

Do you like your wallet? I guess so? It’s really old and is a “masculine wallet”, which my mother never fails to rag on me for

What was the last thing you ate? 滷肉 (LuRou - pork braised in soy sauce) and rice. It was very salty and very yummy

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope! I was on a road trip with my dad :)

The last sporting event you watched? Highlights from men’s volleyball! So good!!!

What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? Mixed butter and chocolate covered popcorn. Or just popcorn and M&Ms

Who was the last person you sent a text message to? My group chat named “老師’s disappointments” (referring to our Chinese teacher) with my bffs, Allie, Andrew, and Steven. I said “You bitches don't appreciate my memes but I love y'all anyways”

Ever go camping? Yes! I love it a lot and there are TONS of camping spots here in CO! Although our govenor has suspended camping for the entire season :(

Do you take vitamins? Every so often I’ll take 15 mg of zinc and iron bc they help with migraines that appear behind the eyes :)

Do you go to church every Sunday? Yes, I do! Though we haven’t been physically going to church for a couple months now

Do you have a tan? Not currently, but I tan pretty well in the summer. It’s the Sicilian heritage

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Chinese food!!! If I could only eat one ‘genre’ of food so to speak for the rest of my life, it would be Chinese food

Do you drink your soda with a straw? I don’t often drink soda, but when I do it’s usually just straight outta the can

What color socks do you usually wear? Black

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Literally everytime. I got pulled over once for going 19 over in a residential area and got off with just a warning. Since then, I make a point of never going above 5 over...

What terrifies you? Being alone or having important people in my life abandon me and never receiving closure for that. Also, I’m really terrified of bees when they get close

Look to your left, what do you see? My huge makeup kit

What chore do you hate? Anything to do with dishes

What do you think of when you hear an Australian Accent? @are-you-being-sirius being a little shit in the best ways possible. Also my sunshine hype man, @chaser-not-a-seeker

What’s your favorite soda? Once again, I don’t drink it very often, but I enjoy Dr. Pepper the most!

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? I usually grab fast food when I’m already running late to a rehearsal downtown, so I do whatever is fastest which tends to be the drive thru

Favorite cut of beef? I don’t really eat beef (bc I don’t like it) unless my 阿姨 (Taiwanese aunt) has cooked up some Korean BBQ

Who’s the last person you talked to? My dad

Last song you listened to? Grace by Surfaces

Last book you read? The last book I physically read was Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, but my dad and I were on a road trip this weekend and we were listening to Otherworld by Jason Segel and Kirsten Miller

Favorite day of the week? Friday, ofc!

Can you say the alphabet backwards? If I try really hard and you’ve got a lot of time, probably

How do you like your coffee? I don’t drink coffee :)

Favorite pair of shoes? I love me some flip flops or plain old boat shoes

At what time do you normally go to bed? During quarantine, somewhere around 4 am. Otherwise, usually 11.

At what time do you normally get up? During quarantine, anywhere between 10 and 11 am. Otherwise, 8 or 9 am.

What do you prefer sunrise or sunsets? Sunset :)

How many blankets are on your bed? Currently, five

Describe your kitchen plates? Our ‘fancy’ glass ones are white with a ring of gold around it and grey scratch marks from utensils. Our nice plastic ones are multi colored stripes or all blue. Our everyday plastic ones are all scratched up solid colors

Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage? I do not drink alcohol, so no, I do not. My favorite fancy drink though is a Shirley Temple. And I can appreciate a virgin Piña Colada

Do you play cards? Yes! But only the simple ones that don’t involve any actual skill bc I can be Big Dumb

What color is your car? White

Can you change a tire? Nope, but I’m sure YouTube could help me

What is your favorite state/providence? I really do love Colorado and Utah! All of the outdoors stuff is great. Especially where I live, I’m 30 minutes from just about anything I would want to do

Favorite job you’ve ever had? Obviously acting, but for ‘real jobs’, I loved being a waitress for an assissted living center. Most of the old folks were great and made the job fun. Management is what lead me to quit

How did you get your biggest scar? I have a rubbery scar along my spine that’s about 3 inches long that I got from a free soloing rock climbing accident. I have another inch long rubber scar on my chest from when I stabbed myself with a pencil rocket in the third grade :)

What did you do today that made someone else happy? I played the piano for my dad and then we went on a walk together!

I’ll tag @stjernfaerie, @are-you-being-sirius, @chaser-not-a-seeker, @whatsupitswendy, @transaurus, @thisaliennerd, @sugarxbeanie, @w0tchermarauders, and anyone else who thinks this looks like fun/wants to!

[7fics]

Jackbam; Jackson and Bam are in realtionship, they always bickering, teasin each other so their friends are wondering why they are a couple because they act like friends, but they share cute moments (that only they know)a lot of fluff!! I love your writing ^^ (and sorry for my english lnao)

Warning(s): a little (a lot of) swearing

Author: val 

Word Count: 3.5k+

A/N: Hey guys! This took forever wOw but I’m finally here with my first fill! I’m a casual writer val who joined at the start of this year and is amazing at procrastinating but I hope you’ll enjoy this, even if the tenses might be hella inconsistent because I suck. Also, fun fact, I’m the youngest here!!

“Bambam!” Jackson Wang’s shrill scream pierced through the room like a knife.“You’re an absolute fucking shithead, you know that?”

In situations like these, the boys had learnt to keep themselves as busy as possible and try not to pay any mind to whatever attention-seeking announcement Jackson had for the rest of the group. Or specifically, for his shithead (his words) of a boyfriend.

“What did he do now?” Yugyeom whispered sardonically.

“He ate my fucking chips!” Jackson screeched back.

“I did not,” Bambam replied resolutely, eyes never leaving the movie that was playing on the television screen.

“We are literally the only two people who live here. Who else could have taken it?” Jackson demanded, his already-high pitch rising ever so steadily by some miracle of God.

“Pudding,” Bambam replied without missing a beat.

Jackson looked like he was about to explode.

“I’ll get you more chips, Sseunie. Sit your ass down and stop blocking my view of Chris Hemsworth,” Jinyoung appeased, rolling his eyes as he inched over on the couch to make room for the newcomer. Begrudgingly, Jackson plopped down, and silence fell over the room once more.

It barely lasted for a minute.

“I swear you took it!”

Everybody groaned.

“I didn’t.” Bambam sounded almost bored.

“You always do this! You always lie to me! Our relationship is all based on lies!” Jackson insisted hysterically, leaping back onto his feet and pointing an accusatory finger at Bambam.

“Our relationship is based on lies,” Bambam imitated, his face scrunched up in comical manner as he raised his voice to a high-pitched squeak.

Jackson gasped, seeming offended. “I do not sound like that! Take it back! And give me back my chips, too!”

“I do not sound like that,” Bambam continued to squeak in a manner that genuinely did not sound like Jackson. “Take it—” was all he could manage before he began to choke on his own laughter.

“I said I’ll get you new chips, please sit down Sseunie,” Jinyoung pleaded almost desperately, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

“Fine,” Jackson’s shoulders slumped in defeat, slinking down to the couch and snuggling closer to Jinyoung.

“How the fuck are they even dating?” Yugyeom grumbled softly from the other end of the room, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. Next to him, Jaebum shrugged.

And then, the only sound that could be heard in the room was the droning of the actors on television.

Oh, and Bambam cackling hysterically while simultaneously hacking up a lung. But that was a minor detail.

——————

By the end of the movie, Bambam had fallen asleep, Jackson’s lips were still arranged in a pout and Jinyoung was about to fling himself out the window into the depths of hell.

Bambam hadn’t stopped laughing for ten minutes straight, and Jackson wasn’t as quiet in his death threats as he thought he was. Although, Jinyoung would admit, the numerous methods Jackson had fabricated to murder the Thai boy were extremely amusing, if not slightly terrifying. Maybe Jackson could consider a career in homicide.

Jinyoung picked up the TV remote and aimed it at the screen.

“Time to go, everyone,” he announced as the screen turned dark. “Thanks for having us, Sseunie,” he waved half-assedly, one foot already out the door. The other boys trailed after him, some yawning tiredly as they mumbled their goodbyes.

“We’re leaving, Bam,” was the last thing Jinyoung hollered before slamming the door shut and leaving Jackson with silence and a sleeping boyfriend.

Oh, an awake boyfriend now.

Bambam blearily opened his eyes as he glanced around the room, trying to make sense of what was happening. When his sleep-addled brain finally managed to decipher that the movie was over, everyone had left and Jackson was still sulking on the other end of the couch, it told him to move. What kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t?

Bambam blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he crawled towards Jackson, whose signature Wang Gae eyes were about to be the death of him. He flopped down next to his boyfriend, snuggling closer until any space between the two were practically nonexistent.

“I’m sorry for taking your chips,” he mumbled, voice muffled from his face being pressed into Jackson’s chest.

All of a sudden, Jackson’s demeanour seemed to shift.

His entire body relaxed into the couch, as if he was melting into a puddle of syrup and honey and all the love he held in his heart for Bambam. If Bambam was looking, he would’ve seen Jackson’s eyes soften and his lips turn up in the brightest of smiles.

“It’s fine, Bam,” Jackson whispered, even though they were the only two people left in the house. He ran his hands through Bambam’s hair comfortingly, fingers gently massaging the younger boy’s scalp. “We can get more. I’m not mad anymore.”

Bambam hummed softly, and Jackson could feel the vibrations travel through his body, through his veins, sending tingles down his spine and turning his heart into gooey, syrupy mush. “I love you, Ja-” Bambam’s words slurred, sleep enveloping him before he could even finish his sentence.

Jackson smiled fondly, fingers tingling with warmth at the sight of Bambam cuddled close to him, body rising and falling steadily with every breath he took. He gathered his boyfriend into his arms and heaved, pushing the both of them off the sofa and Bambam safely into Jackson’s embrace. He padded to Bambam’s bedroom and gently set Bambam down on the bed, brushing back a stray strand of hair on his forehead and leaning down to kiss the younger sweetly on the cheek.

“I love you too, Bambam.”

——————

Yugyeom let out a long, drawn-out groan on Jackson and Bambam’s couch, leaning his head back and slinking down in his seat.

“We’ve been waiting forever, now,” he lamented, reaching a lanky leg out to kick the man sitting opposite him. “Jackson, where’s your boyfriend?”

In response, Jackson hollered, “Yo, Bam! We’re all waiting!” He glanced over at Yugyeom and rubbed his calf ruefully, before tacking on completely out of spite, “your best friend’s complaining!”

Yugyeom kicked him again.

“I’m coming,” was the frustrated screech that rang from the Thai boy’s room. “You guys always fucking rush—”

Crash!

“Fuck!”

From his room emerged a frazzled, but nevertheless dolled-up Bambam, hopping awkwardly on one foot as he clutched his toe. “You guys always rush fashion! Now look at me, you fuckers—I stubbed my toe!”

Admittedly, Bambam looked incredibly dashing. His hair had been parted in the centre and rested artfully in strands down his forehead. His eyes were framed by deep red eyeshadow, accentuating his bright blue eyes (which were clearly contacts, but Jackson digresses). There was only one word he could use to describe his boyfriend—sexy.

Or handsome. Or gorgeous. Or hot. So maybe there were more words.

“Sucks to be you,” Jackson snickers instead, and jiggles his car keys in his hand. “Now let’s go—we’re actually late now.”

Bambam grins, picking up his phone. “I call shotgu—”

“I think the hell not!” came Yugyeom’s screech as he interrupted the Thai boy before he could even complete the word. “I had to wait a whole hour for your crusty ass to get ready, you bitch, I’m going to ride shotgun.”

Bambam’s eyebrows furrowed, cocking his head ever so slightly to the side as he fixed his gaze on Yugyeom. There was a pregnant pause, and then Bambam swiveled around to face Jackson.

“Jack,” he implored, tone sickly sweet. “I’m your boyfriend, right? Don’t you think I should ride shotgun?”

Jackson pretended to think, even though a smirk was beginning to spread on his face. “I don’t know, Bam,” he drawled. “Yugyeom has a point…”

“Oh my god,” Bambam gasped, aghast that he’d be betrayed this way by the one person who was supposed to be by his side through thick and thin, the one person who was supposed to—

“Yeah, I think Yugyeom should ride shotgun, instead,” Jackson concluded smugly.

“I think he should not!” Bambam fired back indignantly.

“It’s my car,” Jackson pointed out levelly, which all the more made Bambam fume.

“I’m your—”

Yugyeom groaned into his palm, burying his face in his hands as he tried to block out the couple’s bickering. He honestly didn’t get how they’d gotten together when all they seemed to do was argue—let alone how they hadn’t broken up yet. While he did love to spend time with each of the boys, not to mention he’d been best friends with half of the couple since their diaper days, being in the same room as the couple on his own was enough to give him a migraine.

“He’s going to ride shotgun,” Jackson declared with a note of finality, and Yugyeom felt a hand grab onto his wrist and pull him up sharply.

Whatever protests Yugyeom tried to weakly splutter out were promptly ignored as he was dragged out of the apartment all the way to Jackson’s car, with Bambam loudly complaining as he trailed along behind.

Oh, why did he ever try to butt in between the couple?

The door slammed as he was shoved into the passenger seat and Yugyeom winced, meekly pulling on his seatbelt. From behind him, Bambam continued to grumble as he crawled in the back.

For the rest of the journey, Bambam never stopped.

——————

When Bambam awoke, it was to low light and a fluffy blanket pulled over him.

Granted, his head was pulsing and he felt like he was about the throw up. Scratch that—the taste of bile was lingering on the tip of his tongue—maybe he already had.

A sliver of light sliced through the room as the door was slowly pushed open, a head popping in to reveal his boyfriend.

“Oh,” Jackson whispered, a bright grin on his lips. “You’re awake.”

Bambam could only groan in response.

“Bad hangover?”

Bambam nodded.

“Hangover soup?”

Bambam nodded again, a small smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Go wash up,” Jackson said fondly, cocking his head in the direction of their bathroom.

Bambam let out a noise that could only be described as a cross between a groan and a whine, and pulled his blanket over his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath, trying to force his vomit back down.

There was a soft pattering of footsteps and the blanket was tugged off. A gentle hand ran through his bed head and ruffled his hair. “You shouldn’t have drunk so much,” Jackson teased.

This time, Bambam let out a drawn-out whine, opening his eyes to gaze at his boyfriend and blinked sluggishly. “I know,” he pouted.

Jackson chuckled, the sound resounding uncomfortably in Bambam’s ears and making his head pound, but was still a bright, tinkling sound nevertheless.

Before he knew it, a pair of hands were snaking under his back and hoisting him up in the air, and Bambam almost yelped in surprise.

“You need to wash up, Bammie,” came the admonishing words, although Jackson’s tone held no meaning to it all. “You stink,” he teased playfully, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust.

Bambam swung one of his arms up to swat at Jackson’s face.

“I love you too,” Jackson cooed, screwing up his lips and making obnoxious kissing noises. “I love my baby Bammie so much, he’s so adorable, I love my itsy bitsy—”

“My head hurts,” Bambam whined again, squirming about in Jackson’s arms and effortlessly shut his boyfriend up, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he tried to balance the lanky boy in his arms.

Bambam felt himself being set down on a surface, and he hung his head as he felt his eyes drooping and his head was pounding and maybe the toilet wasn’t such a bad place to fall asleep on, you know—

“Bam,” came a gentle voice. “Come on, you can at least brush your teeth, right?” Jackson nudged his shoulder playfully, slotting a toothbrush in between his fingers. “Get yourself ready, and we’ll be out for your soup in no time.”

After the agonizing half-hour—in Bambam’s opinion—that it took for him to brush his teeth and slip his clothes on, Jackson was threading his fingers through Bambam’s as he tugged the younger out of their apartment and to his car.

Bambam felt the press of muscle against his own arm and warmth begin to spread through his body as Jackson began to walk with a light spring to his step.

“You okay?”

Bambam nodded, pulling his hand out of Jackson’s to wind his arm around the latter’s instead.

Jackson beamed. and Bambam’s heart fluttered. “I hope you had fun, even if you were pretty shitfaced,” Jackson chuckled.

There was a pause from him as Bambam let out a guttural noise, and then Jackson stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Bambam to almost trip over his own two feet. Thank God for his boyfriend’s steady grip.

“Hey!” Jackson exclaimed in an accusatory tone, whipping to around to glare at his boyfriend. “You tried to make out with Yugyeom last night!”

Bambam’s heart stopped for a moment.

And then it was back to racing like a galloping horse, the loud thump-thump-thumps imitating heavy footfalls and laboured breaths as the horse thundered forward, on and on, ringing blaringly in his ears. Oh dear, what if Jackson was mad; Bambam swears on his life he didn’t remember any of the previous night’s events. What if Bambam did try to make out with his best friend, what if—

“Bammie! I thought you loved me!”

And suddenly Bambam was brought back to the ground. Suddenly Jackson’s words didn’t sound so horrifying, more like a harmless tease, something that was supposed to simply rile Bambam up, ruffle his feathers, jolt him awake just a little more. Maybe Bambam was overreacting—scratch that, he was definitely overreacting.

Suddenly, Jackson’s defiant gaze from below him seemed more like a pitiful kitten looking for their owner’s attention. It was almost identical to the way Latte would paw at his calves when he was hungry.

Bambam stroked his arm appeasingly.

“I do, Jacks,” he smiled warmly, and no matter how much shorter Jackson was compared to him, no matter how uncomfortable the position was to him, Bambam leant down, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and tightening his grip around the elder’s arm every so slightly. “I love you so, so much Jackson, I’d never want to make out with anyone but you.”

Bambam almost saw Jackson’s eyes shining as the latter pulled him in for a tight embrace, pressing his face into Bambam’s neck and nuzzling in. “I love you too, Bam. I’m so sorry i don’t say it enough.”

They pulled apart, holding each other with bodies nearly pressed flush together, eyes twinkling, ghosts of smiles lingering on their lips.

And then it was over, way too quickly than Bambam would have liked. He wouldn’t admit it, but he adored these moments of sappiness he’d occasionally share with his boyfriend. The moments they hid away from their friends, the public eye. The moments that belonged to them.

Jackson was tugging on Bambam’s hand again, and they continued their walk to the car.

“For real, though, you actually did try to kiss Yugyeom.”

“I’m sorry, Jacks,” Bambam grinned, not sounding very sorry at all.

It barely took them a minute before Jackson’s car appeared in sight, and there was a beeping sound as Jackson pressed the button on his keys to unlock it.

“Ride shotgun today, please?” Jackson quirked his eyebrows hopefully.

Bambam grinned as he slid into the front seat.

And as Jackson started up the car, Bambam slipped his fingers in between Jackson’s.

——————

Bambam was supposed to be in charge of the new guy that day.

Being one of the employees who worked the longest at the coffee shop, he would know how things worked around there. Naturally, the role fell to him.

Well, it could have fallen to Youngjae, who’s worked just about as long as him. But Youngjae had a knack for shirking responsibility, that little traitor, so there they were.

The newest employee, Dowoon, is a bright young man who has too much enthusiasm in his tiny body. He’s willing to do whatever Bambam asks of him, and while it might be little overbearing, Bambam thinks he would make a great barista in the future.

After showing him the basics of brewing coffee, Bambam had been making Dowoon wipe down for about an hour, as the customer stream grew heavier and Bambam and Youngjae were busy behind the counter. As the number of customers began to lessen, and Youngjae snuck into the kitchen to nab a pastry for himself to snack on, Bambam decided to let Dowoon take his very first order.

“Hey,” Bambam smiled as he approached the table Dowoon had been dutifully scrubbing at. “I think you can take your first customer now!” He took the rag from Dowoon’s hand. “Let’s swap. The next customer is yours. Take their order, make sure Youngjae isn’t stealing more food from the kitchen, and serve them their order.” Bambam cocked his head toward the counter. “Simple as that.”

Dowoon’s beam could have rivalled the brightness of the sun.

“I’m on it,” Dowoon saluted, and scurried behind the counter, fingers tapping eagerly on the cash register. From behind, Youngjae emerged from the kitchen, a danish between his teeth and a croissant in his hand.

“You want one?” he offered it to Dowoon.

Dowoon shook his head. “It-it’s fine, Youngjae-hyung. I shouldn’t be eating on the job.”

“Yeah, Youngjae,” Bambam called out dryly from the table he was at.

The door bell jingled.

Dowoon jumped. “Wel-welcome! What can I get you?”

Bambam grinned at the familiar silhouette.

“I know this one,” he called, before the man could even open his mouth to reply. “Caramel frappe, with…” Bambam pretended to ponder. “Extra whip?”

“You know me so well, Bam,” Jackson grinned.

The tips of Dowoon’s ears were a bright pink. “Well,” he smiled. “I’ll get right to it. I mean—Youngjae will get right to it. I don’t—I don’t know how to work the machines yet.” Dowoon was stuttering like a high-schooler at his first day at school.

“It’s my first day…” Dowoon trailed off, the flush spreading to his cheeks.

“No problem,” Jackson smiles warmly, before turning to face Bambam.

“You’re training him?”

Bambam nodded proudly. “I think he’s doing great!”

Jackson walked over and slapped Bambam heartily on the back. (A little too heartily, Bambam might add. He nearly choked on air.) “He’s so sweet. And cute.”

Bambam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a snort from behind the counter, and Dowoon’s face seemed almost as red as a tomato.

“I’ll be back,” he reassured, before ducking behind the counter.

“What’s going on?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Dowoon thinks your friend here is really handsome,” Youngjae snickered, stuffing his face with the croissant he had saved from earlier to stifle his laughter.

“H-he said I was sweet too. And cute,” Dowoon stuttered.

“Yeah, he sure did,” Bambam frowned.

Dowoon let out a high-pitched noise that could have been a squeal. “Do you think he’d give me his number?”

“I don’t know, Dowoon,” Bambam cocked his head to the side, eyeing the younger. Dowoon, though, bless his adorable self, seemed to be completely oblivious and continued to gape at Jackson as the latter’s head was bent over his phone.

Bambam’s phone pinged.

i think he likes me bam

Bambam clenched his teeth.

i think i should give him my number. he’s a qt

Youngjae, practically about to burst into tears at the whole affair, shakily caps Jackson’s drink and hands it over to the smitten Dowoon. “Finish up your first customer!”

Dowoon looked as if he was about to melt into a puddle on the ground.

“Uh—caramel frappe for Jackson?” he called shyly, and Jackson walked up to the counter with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“That’s me.”

Dowoon reached over to hand the cup to Jackson, before pulling back and grabbing a marker, scribbling something on the side of the cup.

Bambam clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palm.

“Here,” Dowoon thrust the cup over, averting Jackson’s gaze.

Jackson grabbed the cup and glanced at Dowoon’s messy handwriting, biting his lip as a smile began to spread across his face.

“Did you just give me your num—”

Bambam reach over the counter to pull on Jackson’s shirt harshly, reeling him in into a rough kiss that cut off whatever the latter was just about to say. He made sure their lips lingered, tilting his head a little to try to deepen the kiss. He felt Jackson’s lips tilt upwards as he played along.

When he finally pulled away, the shit-eating grin was back on Jackson’s face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, babe.”

Dowoon let out another high-pitched screech.

(“Oh my god!” Youngjae hollered into the phone—since when did he get on the phone?

“Gyeom! I just watched them kiss. Yes, Jackbam! I just watched the two of them /kiss/—ha! You owe me twenty dollars now!”)

[snowindry]

Michiru is a Bad Bitch (TM) and is a rly powerful esper/telepath. She’s probably a little god mod-y but she values her freedom to do what she wants more than anything so she isn’t rly flashy and sticks to business type crimes in the black market/yakuza types working as a consultant/informant. Fun fact- Sachi gets her ridic big curls from her but Michiru hates them and is always using her powers to straighten her hair. When she goes all out her eyes glow and her hair poofs back out. Kuroyoru is the Daddy. I actually have designs for his parents too lol. He’s ... ya. U can look at him and see lol. He has a nightmare quirk and if he looks at someone in the eyes he knows their worst nightmare and can make smoke that acts as a hallucinogen when inhaled and Fucks You Up Bad. His antlers are the storage and they disappear as he uses the quirk. If he uses too much he has to naturally build them back before use again. Kurogiri is his big bro.Big ol’ dump of my BNHA OCs!!! I get too into genealogy of quirks so Haruka and Sachi have parents lol

More about everyone under the cut <3

Sachi Nakano:  (Neutral Good) her hero name is “empathy”. Quirk: Psychoanalysis (can sense people’s feelings/absorb them. The stronger the feeling is, the better she can sense it. [ex: if she's in a crowd of people and everyone is feeling normal things, but one person is very anxious/excited bc they are about to detonate a bomb, she would be drawn to that person and could pinpoint them] she can almost psychically read what the feeling is, like for a weak feeling if someone in class is a little sad, she could accurately say, “oh did you get in a fight with a friend?” and if it's a strong feeling, she can almost relive the memory of the feeling from the person, getting a lot of details. she dislikes crowds/events with a lot of feeling [concerts, sports events, rallies, etc] bc she gets overwhelmed and may have a panic attack/faint feeling everyone's strong emotions. If it's a normal crowd, she's fine, but she has chronic migraines due to her quirk. To change someone’s feelings she has to absorb them into herself. To do this, she has to be feeling what she WANTS the other person to feel. [if someone is angry and she's angry, she can't make them be calm] basically she swaps. The stronger the emotion she absorbs, the more energy it takes and she sometimes will faint. It takes a lot of self managing/care to be able to have a calm attitude in battle etc Also, the more she’s around someone the easier she can pinpoint that person based on their feelings/aura. Also Also, she has to be touching the person to switch, and can only sense people within a 50 ft radius. The closer she is the better she’s able to sense them. Can release weak “psychic” waves to slightly alter multiple people’s mood in a 10 ft radius. Stronger on ppl closest to her and wears off after a few minutes. Not super useful aside from stealth.

Sachi’s Villain parents: Michiru (Lawful Evil) is a Bad Bitch (TM) and is a rly powerful esper/telepath. She’s probably a little god mod-y but she values her freedom to do what she wants more than anything so she isn’t rly flashy and sticks to business type crimes in the black market/yakuza types working as a consultant/informant. Fun fact- Sachi gets her ridic big curls from her but Michiru hates them and is always using her powers to straighten her hair. When she goes all out her eyes glow and her hair poofs back out. Kuroyoru (was True Neutral prior to meeting Michiru but is now Neutral Evil) has a nightmare quirk and if he looks at someone in the eyes he knows their worst nightmare and can make smoke that acts as a hallucinogen when inhaled and Fucks You Up Bad. His antlers are the storage and they disappear as he uses the quirk. If he uses too much he has to naturally build them back before use again. Kurogiri is his big bro!

Mood/Moodstone: She is a very famous celebrity/fashion blogger/model/designer (LOL). Mood dyes her hair at least 1-2 times a month and also has a plethora of wigs. Color changes are part of her brand after all. In the full body- she’s wearing some of her brands casual wear. The sequin/ombré patterns are her icon basically and is modeled after her eyes, which are always moving kinda like a glass of sparkly glitter and clouds (anime eyes in action). Her mood colors are yet to be defined by me but some of them are: blue is the default (like mood rings) and are content, red is mad, pink is love, white is fear, Black is stress. She can also see auras of people with the same colors denoting feelings. It can get muddled if there’s crowds. She got famous by her eyes and posting them online with her fashion blogs as a student. She’s into activism and social justice and often critiques the structure of a hero’s society (but not to like a Stain level, although surprisingly she has a lot of the same fans. She’s real popular w the teens/YA). Always has shades to protect her privacy/others privacy.

Haruka Namimura: (Chaotic Good) Pro-Hero from UA! She’s a recent grad who works under Selkie.  her quirk is shark attributes and strength, but she also turns into a shark mermaid (think like, way more shark than human- kinda like the mermaids in HP lol. I’m not great at drawing animals/monsters...) when she is fully immersed in water. 

Haruka’s normie moms: Jozumi (Chaotic Neutral) is a very femme lady who was sadly bullied a lot growing up for her looks. She works from home part-time and is a house wife the rest of her time. She never wanted to be a hero, she is quite bashful and doesn’t like attention, but loves dressing up and cute things. Kyoko (Neutral Neutral) has a mermaid quirk similar to Haruka, when she’s fully submerged she goes full mermaid. She also never wanted to be a hero and uses her quirk at work in underwater construction/repair. She’s gentle and softspoken, but she has a rough past and was in a girl gang in high school! She is super embarrassed to admit it but she used to work as a mermaid in an aquarium in college. 

[geekofmanyforms]

New Beginning:Chapter Eighteen

* A/N: Let me know what you think. This chapter has been edited by my Beta Casey*

The rumbling of the car engine and the slow breathing of Elena was the only sound in the small confines of the car I was now trapped in. I had never been one to handle silence well, not when so much was being left unsaid. I tended to blabber insistently until what needed to be said was finally out in the open. So, instead of starting that battle, I forced myself to keep my eyes on the passing countryside, every field the mirror image of the one before. Elena laid in the back, still unconscious, her hair falling over the side of the seat. When Damon finally spoke, I almost cried with relief, even if what he said had only to do with my sister.

"So you're saying she woke up long enough to say four words, and then passed out again?" I asked.

Damon turned his head and looked at me. "I. Look. Like. Her," he enunciated, lifting one finger for each word.

I placed my head in my hands with a sigh. "Well, that explains why she was out there. She must have found Stefan's picture of Katherine and completely freaked,"

I massaged my forehead and winced as I adjusted my legs. Damon looked down and pulled one of my knees towards him with an angry frown. He used one hand to pull my jeans up over my knee, revealing the small gashes.

"When did you do this?"

I bit my lip and took in a sharp breath. There were several small slashes across my knee where the glass had dug into my skin.

"When I pulled Elena from the car," I said, pulling up my other pant leg and looking at the similar injury. "It's not that bad."

He pulled away and gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Yeah, well, I need you in tip-top shape. You're gonna be the one who wrestles with Elena. Bringing her was your idea," he said, rolling his eyes.

I smiled brightly as he bit into his wrist and offered it to me. I scrunched up my nose and sighed, leaning in and drinking down a few gulps. I moved away with a grimace and groaned. "How fair is it that I've been forced to drink so much blood here lately, and yet, I still don't get any of the extra benefits?" I whined, wiping my face with the heel of my hand.

Damon smirked, his expression darkening. "Which of the extra benefits do you want the most, El? The insatiable thirst or the eternal life filled with death and betrayal?"

I rubbed my newly healed knees, rolled my eyes, and sighed. "Oh please, yes, you have to deal with the bad side effects, but it's not all doom and gloom. I'd gladly take it."

Damon shook his head, angrily. I avoided looking at him by unbuckling my seatbelt and turning around to face Elena.

"So, what should I say to her?"

I set my chin on the seat and bit my lip in thought.

"Hey Elena, sorry you look identical to your boyfriend's ex, but I must say, that isn't exactly the worst part. She was also a raging bitch who slept with his brother and sired them both. Wanna know more?" I chirped.

I slammed my head against the seat with an annoyed groan.

"This is going to go super well," I added, mumbling.

Damon chuckled beside me. I reached out to slap him but was stopped when he pulled me back into my seat, slipping my belt over my shoulder. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he smiled with a wink.

"Safety first,"

I heard the click of my belt and crossed my arms.

"So what do you recommend? It's not just Stefan's story to tell, Damon. Should we just allow him to tell it, or would you like to? Because I would love to avoid this conversation."

Damon tapped the steering wheel with one finger, and I sat quietly. I knew this wouldn't be easy for either of them. I watched his expression, looking for any change, but there was none. His eyes remained clear and impassive, his face never crinkled nor changed from its smooth pale visage. He looked at ease as if this was a typical road trip, just some fun with his ex and her sister.

Or to be more exact, his reincarnated ex and the doppelganger of his ex—who happened to become his reincarnated ex's new sister.

My nose twitched, and I laid my head back with a sigh, my eyes closed. My life was what nightmares were made of. I would need a morphine drip just to handle all the migraines this simple road trip would create.

"I think you should just let Stefan handle this one, El. Give her just the information she needs and let him go from there,"

I opened one eye and lifted my brow. "He does handle these situations best."

I brushed my bangs from my face and sighed heavily. Damon nodded and flipped on the radio, letting the sweet sound of music take away the need for more discussion. I let out a deep breath and leaned my head against the glass of my door, the cold breaking the tension that covered my forehead.

I squinted my eyes tightly as the light of the sun tried to seep through my eyelids. Running the back of my hand over my face, I felt something vibrate in my back pocket. I reached underneath me and pulled out my phone, blinking a few times as my eyes adjusted to the day. When I could finally see, I found Stefan's picture flashing across my screen, along with a large number of missed calls. I laid the phone in my lap and sighed in annoyance.

"How long has my ass been vibrating, Day?" I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.

I ran my fingers through my disheveled hair then lifted it into a ponytail, before looking at the vampire beside me. I growled lowly when I found him as perfect as he had been the night before, not a single hair out of place.

Damn perfect vampires.

He shook his head and brushed his thumb across my cheek, pulling away to show me the way its pad glistened in the light, wet with my drool. I choked out a gasp and quickly wiped my face in agonized embarrassment. Damon laughed, wiping his thumb on his jeans.

"Oh El, you drooled in my time too," he said with a snicker.

I smacked his shoulder and grabbed my bag, pulling out some gum. I tried to ignore the blush that still covered my cheeks and was thankful when Stefan interrupted, my phone buzzing to life again in my lap. Damon's eyes narrowed as he glanced down at my phone, eyes burning with fury.

"He has called you more then he has Elena. I wonder why that is?" he said tightly.

My brows furrowed and I reached over, patting his jacket down until I found the lump I was looking for.

"Where did you find her phone, Damon?"

He pushed my hand away and fixed his jacket. My phone let off a cheery ding, and I followed Damon's gaze as it lowered to my lap. He reached for my phone, and I smacked his hand away quickly.

"Oi! My phone, thank you. I will read my own texts."

He sat back, and I huffed when I noticed his tightening jaw.

"Damon, he is worried sick. Give the man a break. He has every right to text and call me all he wants," I said.

Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and skimmed the text as my heart hammered in my chest.

Elandra, please call me. Please. I need to know you guys are safe. You can't do this to me. I promise I will tell her everything. I'm sorry. I love you both. Please call me.

I swallowed hard and stared at the message until my screen went dark.

"We need to call him," I said.

Before I could blink, Damon took my phone and unlocked it. His eyes darted back and forth as they scanned the message. I could hear a faint crack as he squeezed my phone. I pried it from his fingers and breathed a sigh of relief when I found it still worked. Damon's chest moved slowly, his jaw tight. I unbuckled my seat and moved next to him.

"Damon, calm down. There is no need for you to freak out."

I ran my fingers through his hair gently. I could hear him grind his teeth together as he tried to keep himself under control.

"So, I take it you've told him you love him," he whispered.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and ran my tongue over my dry lips. "Yes, I have — as a brother," I said slowly, "which is exactly what he is to me,"

It felt like I was walking through a minefield. Damon turned his head away, and I scooted back over, moving away from the mercurial vampire.

"A brother, huh," he sneered, a mirthless chuckle lilting from him.

I bit down on the gum I was chewing, using it to remain composed. "Yes, Damon. That's all he has ever been. You know that." I said with a small, weak smile.

I wasn't sure what was going on. Was this jealousy or just latent possessiveness? I had heard that since Katherine, both Salvatores were always edgy about the woman they fancied. They had a tendency to become wrathful if they thought one of them had any feelings for the other's lover. Even if Stefan hadn't seen me as a sister, he would have always known I was off-limits. So why then was Damon acting so jealous?

A small rustling saved us both from furthering the conversation. I glanced at Damon and he nodded, pulling the car to the side of the road. Elena was pushing herself into a seated position, the right corner of her forehead caked in dried blood, although she was fully healed. She ran her hand over her head, eyes still squeezed tightly shut. I watched in sympathy as she swayed from side to side, wincing slightly as she moaned, her voice cracking. Very slowly, she opened her eyes, and her pupils dilated when they focused in on me.

"Elara?" she said, voice breaking off.

I started to nod, and her brown eyes filled with tears. I lifted my legs into the seat and forced myself over the middle console, ignoring the hand that covered my lower back protectively. I wrapped my arms around my sister and felt warm tears seep into my shirt as she cried. I ran my hand over her ruffled brown hair and directed small soothing sounds into her ear.

"I look just like her, Ellie," she mumbled.

I brushed her hair over one shoulder and nodded slowly. "I know. I should have told you, but I didn't think it was my place. Please know that if I had thought he was dating you for that reason alone, I would have," I murmured into her ear.

I could feel her stiffen and braced myself for her wrath. She sat back and looked into my eyes, her own full of confusion and anger. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

I sucked on my bottom lip and took her hand. "Elena, I've met Katherine. Many times," I said, wincing when she glared at me.

She yanked her hand away and looked around the car, suddenly aware of her surroundings. She pushed herself against the seat when she noticed Damon smiling at her from the front. I tilted my head in annoyance and smacked his headrest, my teeth partially bared.

"Where are we, and why are we with him?" she said, spitting out the last part with venom.

I sighed and scooted closer to her, scrunching up my face in apprehension. "Um, well, that's the thing, Elena. When we found you, we were planning a little road trip, and I had a feeling you and Stefan had a little spat… so…" I trailed off, turning my head away and brushing the hair from my eyes.

Elena blinked quickly as she minutely lowered her chin towards her chest, her eyes starting to bulge as she began to understand. Her shoulders shook, and she began to chuckle, shaking her head.

"No… No. There's no way you would take me on a road trip with Damon," she said, reaching for the door and jumping out.

I crawled across the seat and quickly followed her. She walked behind the car and started down the road, her hands fisted beside her as she mumbled angrily to herself. She stopped suddenly and bent over groaning, her hand on her knee. She ran her fingers over her head and winced slightly. Damon sped beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He smiled down at her, his patented half-smirk fixed on his face.

"You're ok. No broken bones. I checked." He winked.

Elena sneered and pushed his hand away from her.

"Listen, Lena, we are all the way in Georgia. Take the opportunity to clear your head. I have already talked to Jenna, no one thinks we are dead. Live a little. You will only get to do it once," I winked.

With a roll of her eyes, Elena ran her hands through her hair, sighing. "I have a life, Ellie. We have a life, we can't just run away. Why would you even go along with this?" she said.

Damon groaned loudly and sped back to his car, irritatedly slamming the door closed, and leaning against it. "I told you this was a bad idea, Elandra," he grumbled.

Something snapped in Elena. Her brown eyes large as she spun around, quickly walking up to Damon, poking her finger into his chest.

"That is not her name. Maybe you need to remember who you're talking to. She isn't the same girl from your time." She moved her finger to me but kept her eyes on Damon's. "Her name is Elara, not Elandra. She is my sister, not your fiance, and you should try to remember that," she spat.

"Why are we here, Elara?"

They both looked at me, and silence filled the air, only permeated by the sound of the wildlife surrounding us as they waited for my answer. My eyes darted from my sister to Damon, and I covered my face with my hands.

"Because he needed my help, and he is my friend,"

I moved my hands through my hair and down to my neck. Elena watched me, her face stern.

"Regardless of how you feel about him, he is important to me and always will be. So, if he needs me, I will be there," I said, letting out a rush of breath. "I have a thing about family. You should know that."

Damon stood silently by the car, his hands in his pockets. Elena approached me, her head lowered to her feet.

"How can you feel that way about someone like him, Ellie?" she whispered.

I shook my head at her and sniffed in annoyance. "No one is perfect, especially when they have lived for so long. Everyone can be dark, even you, so I would hold back the judgment." I whispered,

I ran my thumb across her chin, then wrapped my arms around her and sighed deeply.

"Just for me, please be open-minded. Besides, I could have Damon make you enjoy this trip," I joked.

Elena pulled away and touched her neck, eyes wide. I laughed,

"It's ok. I won't let him control you,"

She narrowed her eyes and continued to rub her neck self consciously. A loud ringing came from Damon's pocket, and Elena and I both turned to look at him. He stood against the hood of the car, arms crossed. I smirked as Elena rounded on him.

"That's my phone?" she huffed irritably.

Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone, looking down at the screen. I stood next to him and watched his expression. His blue eyes hardened like glass for only a second before he looked up at Elena with a sly smile. "Mmm, it's your boyfriend."

Elena turned away, shaking her head, her hand still on her neck. I reached out and took her free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it just as Damon looked back down at the phone with a sneer.

"I'll take it." He lifted the phone to his ear and gave me a quick wink. "Elena's phone!" he chirped enthusiastically.

I stepped closer to Damon, and he leaned down, lifting the phone slightly so that I could hear Stefan speak.

"Where are they? Why do you have Elena's phone, and why is Elandra not answering me? Are they ok?" he barked angrily.

Damon looked down at me, and I raised a brow.

"Slow down, brother. They are both right here. And yes, they are fine," he said calmly.

I shook my head and sighed. Elena kept her eyes on her feet, almost guiltily, as she transferred her weight from one foot to the other. I kicked her foot, and she looked at me with a shrug. I straightened my back and flipped my hair over my shoulder with confidence. She laughed silently and leaned against the car with a sigh. I nodded, satisfied, and looked back at Damon, who was lowering the phone towards Elena.

"He wants to talk to you,"

I crossed my arms and nudged my head towards the phone, urging her forward. After all, I was on Stefan's side. He really did love her.

Elena eyed the phone for a moment but looked away quickly, her mind made up. "Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head.

Damon pulled the phone back with a self-satisfied grin, and I looked away, heart sinking on Stefan's behalf. "Yeah. I don't really think she wants to talk to you right now," Damon said, shaking his head.

I could hear the anger in Stefan's voice as he spoke on the other end of the phone, and almost felt afraid for what would be waiting for Damon once we got home. Then I remembered I would be there to help defuse the situation, and Elena wouldn't stay mad at Stefan forever. Love was a mighty thing. No one knew that better than I did.

"Damon, I swear to God, If you touch either one of them…" Stefan spat.

I felt a warmth spread through me at his protective behavior. Caroline was one of the only other people who showed such a protective response over me, and I loved it. I was the same way, willing to kill for those I loved.

Damon smirked and nodded his head slowly. "You have a good day. Mmm-hmm. Bye now,"

I stepped away from him and pulled out my phone. I slipped into my messages and found the last one Stefan had sent me. I typed out a quick response and sent it just as Damon took the phone from my grasp.

"Naughty. Who are you texting?"

I yanked my phone from his grasp and shook my head. "Stefan. Someone needs to assure him you don't have us tied up in your trunk." I sighed, placing the phone back in my pocket. "Even if that is a ridiculous assumption. Like you could ever get the jump on me,"

"What did you say to him?" Elena asked, opening the car door and slipping inside.

I followed her and hopped into the front seat. "Basically, I told him we were both here because we wanted to be and that we would be home soon. End of story," I said, shrugging.

Damon slid into the driver's seat and slapped the wheel with a grin. "Well, now that we have taken care of my poor brother's feelings, let's get moving. We're almost there."

Elena sighed deeply and sat back in her seat. "Can't we just go home?"

I looked back at her and frowned. "No, we're going to a little place right outside of Atlanta,"

Elena groaned.

"Come on, It'll be fun!" I beckoned, throwing my hands in the air "Remember, what fun?"

Damon looked at her in the rearview and rolled his eyes. "No. I don't think she does. Come on, Elena. You don't wanna go back right now, do you? What's the rush? Take a time-out. Five minutes. All your problems will still be there when we get back."

I clapped my hands and nodded, smiling brightly. This was one of the reasons I had always loved Damon. He could be so spontaneous and fun. I leaned my head on his shoulder and grinned, watching for Elena's response in the mirror.

She looked out the window briefly before slapping her knee with a sigh. "Ugh. Are we gonna be safe with him?"

I looked up at Damon and shook my head. "Probably not, but I'm a badass witch, so you'll be safe with me," I smirked.

Elena scoffed and laughed lightly. "Ok. No mind tricks, and it's a deal,"

Damon looked back at her reflection and smirked. "Deal," he agreed.

I gave them both a toothy grin and turned around in my seat, keeping my head on Damon's shoulder.

"Atlanta, here we come!"

Damon pulled into the parking lot of a small bar, parking directly in front of the entrance. The sign above the front door read Bree's Bar in bold blue letters. Damon slipped from the car at the same time I did, and I fixed my leather jacket as I waited for Elena to exit the back seat.

"You brought us to a bar?" she indignantly asked, her hair blowing wildly around her face.

Walking around the front of the car, she tucked her hands in her pockets. "We're not old enough. They're not going to let us in," she said, tilting her head in my direction.

I popped a piece of gum in my mouth with a chuckle. "You're not old enough. I'm about a thousand years old, dear sister," I said, tucking the wrapper in my pocket.

Elena stomped her foot lightly and grumbled. "Well, right now, your about 17, dear sister."

I stepped closer to her and brushed my bright red hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I smirked and blew a giant bubble in her face, popping it loudly before twirling on my heel and taking her hand. "Come on,"

Damon shook his head and started forward. "They'll let you guys in. Trust me," he said over his shoulder.

I could hear scoffing behind me and laughed. "As if," Elena whispered.

I followed behind Damon, pleasantly surprised to find the bar was actually nice. It wasn't fancy, but it wasn't dingy or run down. Bree was taking care of it. Considering the time of day, there were very few people inside, just a few men playing pool. Elena lagged behind as I let go of her hand. I pulled my hair over one shoulder and stood in front of Elena as Damon approached the bar. The woman behind it was running a white rag over the dirty counters, her black curly hair bouncing as she moved.

"That's Bree," Damon whispered, "She owns the bar."

When Damon clapped his hands together, Bree turned her head towards us and smiled at Damon, shaking her head.

"No. No, it can't be. Damon?"

She hopped over the counter, spinning around to jump onto the other side. She landed gently on the ground, sauntering in front of Damon, her hips swaying.

"My honey pie," she said saucily.

Leaning in, she placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. Pulling him closer, she deepened the kiss, humming in satisfaction. She ran her hands down his body, squeezing his ass with a firm grip. My eyes widened, and I had to pinch myself just to maintain my focus and keep my jaw wired shut. This was definitely something Damon had forgotten to mention.

I looked away and found Elena watching me closely, her face full of concern. I managed a grimace that was supposed to be a smile and looked down at the floor. When Bree finally pulled away, I looked up, exhaling in relief. She took Damon's hand and led him to the bar. He sat down on a stool, and I pushed Elena in the one next to him, sitting down beside her. I didn't really feel like being near him if they planned on going at it again. Bree took out four shot glasses and lined them up in front of us, taking out a bottle of Tequila and lifting it into the air.

"Listen up, everybody! Here's to the man that broke my heart, crushed my soul, destroyed my life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness!" she shouted, placing a shot in front of each of us and picking up her own. "Drink up," she said, downing her shot.

I lifted the glass to my lips and poured the nasty liquid down my throat, wincing at the deep, warm burn. I slammed the glass down and stuck my tongue out in protest. "Ugh, I hate Tequila!" I shouted with a laugh.

Bree chuckled and refilled my glass. "So, how did he rope you in?" she asked.

I looked up at her and leaned my head back with a sigh. "Oh, now that is a long story," I said, downing my newly refilled shot.

"Well, my advice is just to enjoy the ride," she said with a long sigh that spoke of previous enjoyment.

My stomach rolled, and I flipped my glass upside down, waving my fingers over the top. She smiled knowingly and moved over to Elena, filling her glass.

Damon stood and walked next to me, leaning on his elbow. "Having fun, El?" he asked, looking at my upended glass.

I glanced at my fingers and forced a smile. "Loads," I said, grimacing and flipping my glass back over, tapping it on the bar.

"There we go, girl," Bree said, filling it.

Elena observed me and narrowed her eyes when Bree filled the glass again.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Elena asked.

Bree leaned against the bar and smiled at Damon. "College," she said.

Elena's eyes widened, and she looked at Damon in astonishment. "You went to college?" she asked.

Damon leaned his head on his hand and rolled his eyes, smiling. "I've been on a college campus, yes," he said.

I laughed and covered my face with my hands. "I can definitely picture you stalking the sorority girls," I snorted.

Damon winked at me and curled a piece of my hair around his finger as he listened to Bree speak.

"About twenty years ago, when I was a sweet, young freshman, I met a beautiful man and fell in love. And then he told me his little secret, made me love him more. Because you see, I had a little secret of my own that I was dying to tell someone," she said.

Damon leaned in next to us and whispered smugly. "She's a witch," he said.

I widened my eyes and looked her over with new interest. When I finally focused on her and not my feelings towards her, I could feel it, her power.

"As are you," she said, lowering herself onto her elbow in front of me.

I glanced around quickly, making sure I wouldn't be noticed, then lifted my hand and allowed my fingers to twinkle. I smiled smugly when Bree gasped, bowing her head in reverence. It had been a long time since someone had shown such respect.

I nodded in acceptance and felt Elena place her hand on my arm. I patted her gently and closed my hand, canceling the glow.

"When did you start hanging out with an Original witch, Damon?" Bree asked a tremor of fear in her voice.

I placed my hand on hers and looked into her eyes. "I'm the only Original he has met, Bree," I assured her.

I knew she feared who else may be walking through her door. Her face softened, and I could see her breathing calm. Bree looked at Elena and smiled again. "He changed my world, ya know," she said, looking at Damon.

He smirked and nudged his head at Bree. "I rocked your world," he said.

Bree lifted her shot with a smile, looking at me. "He is good in the sack, isn't he." I raised my glass and clinked it with hers.

She chuckled and looked back at Damon. "But mostly he's just a Walk-Away Joe," she said.

I drank my shot, keeping my head lowered, and sat down my empty glass.

"See, she agrees," Bree said with a laugh.

I flung my hair from my shoulders and rubbed the back of my neck, avoiding everyone's gaze.

Bree laughed brightly and turned towards Damon, now more stern. "So, what is it that you want?" she asked.

Elena's phone rang, and Damon took it from his pocket, looking down at the screen before handing it over.

"Its Jenna," Elena said softly.

I patted her on the back and smiled. "It's ok. I told her you passed out at Bonnie's and then went straight to school. I'm sure she just wants to check-in," I assured her.

Taking a deep breath, she answered the phone and started out of the bar, her hand in her hair. Damon and Bree found a table off to the side of the bar and sat down to discuss Katherine. Not knowing what else to do, I followed. I moved to take the chair beside Bree, but Damon pulled me next to him, placing my feet on his lap.

Bree watched us closely, her brown eyes were curious. "So, what's the story here?" she asked, using two fingers to point at us.

I snickered and laid my head on Damon's shoulder briefly. "Like I said, long story," I answered.

Bree threw her head back and laughed heartily. "What part of our dear Damons life story isn't long. I have all the time in the world," she said.

I smacked Damon's arm and looked up at him. "Your turn," I said.

He rolled his eyes and took a beer from the table. "El is my ex-fiance. She was the woman I was with before Katherine. She is a Reincarnate," he said simply.

I looked up at the ceiling and then back at Bree. "Well, I guess that really does sum it up," I shrugged.

Bree watched me, her eyes scanning my face, before trailing down to where Damon's handheld my knee. "After all these years, it's still only Katherine, huh. How do you know she's still alive," she asked.

Damon gripped my knee tightly and leaned towards Bree. "Well, you help me get into the tomb, and we'll find out," he said, touching her elbow.

She pulled her arm away and turned her head towards him. "I already did. Twenty years ago. Remember? Three easy steps: Comet. Crystal. Spell," she said.

I could feel Damon's grip tighten on my knee, and I placed my hand on his, his iron grasp loosened, and I could feel him calm slightly. "There's a little problem with number two. I don't have the crystal," he said.

Bree raised her hands in the air and shrugged. "That's it, Damon. There's no other way. It's Emily's spell."

I ran my fingers over Damon's hand and smirked at Bree. "In Witchcraft, there's always another way, Bree," I said, my eyes flashing angrily.

"What about a new spell with a new crystal that overrides Emily's spell?" Damon asked.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. That wouldn't work.

Bree placed her hand under her chin and looked at Damon, her black curls bouncing slightly as she spoke. "It doesn't work that way, baby. Emily's spell is absolute. You can't get in that tomb without her crystal," she said.

Damon's face fell, and his distant eyes glazed over. I moved my legs from his lap and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Watch us," I said, standing to my feet, and pulling Damon with me.

I led him outside and saw Elena standing by the car, her phone to her ear. "And I'm supposed to believe that?" she said.

I could hear a low mumbling on the other end before she swiftly hung up, spinning around to find us standing behind her.

"You ok?" Damon asked.

Elena looked down at his shirt and smirked. "Don't pretend to care. I know your gloating inside," she said, looking up into his eyes.

Damon smirked, but before he could come up with some snotty remark, I stepped in between them.

"Lena, I'm starved. Can we just go inside and get something to eat? All that liquor on an empty stomach was a bad idea..."

Elena's eyes widened, and she smacked Damon on the chest, her face scrunched up in disbelief and anger. "You didn't feed her? Witches still eat, ya know," she said, smacking him again.

I gave her a side hug and smiled. "Three points for bravery. Smacking a vampire, Lena — very dangerous," I laughed.

Elena pulled me forward, leading me back inside. We found a seat at the bar, and all three ordered a burger and fries. Damon handed me a beer, and we drank silently as we waited for our food. By the time it came, I was feeling sufficiently sloshed. My vision was starting to blur, and I was glad to get something in my stomach. I started on my fries, enjoying them more than I usually would. Damon watched me in amusement, his crystal blue eyes full of unfulfilled laughter.

"Let's just say that I'm descended from Katherine… does that make me part vampire?" Elena asked.

I giggled, waving a fry in the air. "Nope. Not at all," I sang.

Damon shoved a fry in my mouth and ran a finger over my cheek. "Eat my little drunk,"

I finished my fry and stuck my tongue out at him.

"Vampires can't procreate, but we love to try." he picked up a fry and tossed it in his mouth, running his fingers against one another to dust the salt from them. "No, if you were related, it would mean Katherine had a child before she was turned," he said.

I pushed the fries around on my plate and mouthed one word.

"Bingo,"

Neither one noticed me, and I was glad for it. There was no way I would reveal something Katherine had told me in complete confidence. It was the worst part of her human life, and I wouldn't repeat it.

"Did Stefan think he could use me to replace her?" Elena asked.

I raised my hand in front of Damon quickly and looked at Elena, my eyes hard. "Never," I said firmly.

Damon moved my hand and looked at Elena with fake concern. "Kinda creepy if ya ask me," he said.

Elena took the pickles from her burger and moved them to the side.

Damon scoffed and took them from her plate, placing them on my burger and his. "Come on, what? You don't like pickles? What is wrong with you?"

I rearranged the pickles on my burger and smiled over at my sister, who was watching Damon with unease. She was clearly trying to figure out how she was actually enjoying his presence while also getting some questions answered. Questions she was too embarrassed to ask her boyfriend.

Damon elbowed me, offering me the ketchup, I nodded, and he spread some on my bun. I pointed to the mustard, and he repeated the process. Scooting away a bit, I lifted my hair into a ponytail and then sat forward to eat. I felt something tickling my neck and looked over to find Damon playing with a strand of hair I had missed. I raised a brow, but he continued unperturbed.

"How can you even eat? If technically you're supposed to be…" Elena asked.

I looked up at Damon and sent him a cocky questioning look. Damon leaned in and gave her a faux nervous look. "Dead?" he whispered with a chuckle.

My shoulders shook as I laughed silently. "It's not such a bad word. As long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system, my body functions pretty normally," he said, tossing a fry in his mouth to demonstrate.

Elena's face lifted and she laughed prettily. "This nice act. Is any of it real?" she asked, her expression turning wary.

I took a drink of my beer before Damon took it away, swishing it, revealing it to be half empty. He motioned for Bree, who brought over another and a glass of water. He took the beer and handed me the water, smirking when I pouted. "Sorry, Elandra. I'm cutting you off, baby," he whispered.

I took the glass and sighed, drinking deeply. He watched me for a second before turning away.

"I'll have one of those," Elena said, pointing at Damon's beer.

I sat down my water and leaned in front of Damon to look at Elena.

She smiled at me and shrugged. "Time out, remember? For five minutes. Yeah, well, that five minutes is gonna need a beer," she said.

I looked at Bree and motioned at Elena. "Get the girl some alcohol," I said.

Bree handed Elena a bottle, winking at me. "There ya go," she said.

When Elena was more than a few beers in, Bree brought out the whiskey and some shot glasses. The bar was beginning to fill with people, and a small group joined us for shots. Damon made sure I opted out, so I stood to the side, just watching my sister cut loose for once.

I drank another glass of water and smiled as Bree sat out another set of glasses, filling them with whiskey. "Ready…Go!" she shouted.

Damon, Elena, and a few others all took their shots, Elena being the quickest, when she got going she was a machine with a hell of a tolerance. She slammed her glass down and clapped her hands, dancing in a circle in celebration.

"That's three," Damon said, wiping his chin.

Elena leaned down next to him and laughed. "Aww, do you need a bib?" she asked, a fake pout on her lips.

Damon pushed away from the bar and snickered. "We can't all unhinge our jaws like a snake, like the Gilbert girls, to consume alcohol," he said, finding me off to the side with a smile.

I sent him a wink, and he turned back to Elena, who was waving her hand in the air, describing her tolerance. The atmosphere changed as someone entered the bar, and my instincts went into overdrive. I looked around me and saw a man I had never seen before walk passed Damon and Elena towards the other side of the bar. After Bree served Elena and the others another set of shots, she followed him. I kept my eyes away from her but watched from my peripheral. She said something to him before motioning to us, her face hard. I closed my eyes and ground my teeth together, anger coursing through me. Of course, she had to betray us. Now Damon would kill her, and it would be yet another betrayal to drag him down. She better at least have a damn good reason.

I started towards Damon when my phone rang, I looked down and saw it was Jenna calling. I sighed deeply and took one last look at Damon before grabbing my jacket and starting outside. I opened the door and winced at the biting cold. I slid the phone in my pocket, planning on calling Jenna back as soon as I got my jacket on. As I slid one arm in someone came behind me at lightning speed, grabbing me from behind and wrapping their hand around my neck, covering my mouth with unnatural strength. They began dragging me away, and I struggled, tugging at their hands. I momentarily forgot that I was a witch, and no vampire could hold me against my will.

Before I could remember that I wasn't helpless, I felt a pinprick in my neck and winced in pain. It took me only a moment to realize it had been centuries since I had felt this pain — the pain of Witch Hazel. Such an innocent plant, one so many humans use as a remedy, was my poison.

I screamed through the pain, but the sound was blocked by my attacker's hand. Slowly my body began to shut down, and I could no longer move. I felt the agonizing pain that ripped through my body like wildfire at a magnified level. It felt like a million scalding hot knives cutting every inch of my body. Through the pain, I could sense the man moving my body away towards the back of the bar. My eyes were open, and I could see the night sky above us as he lowered my body to the ground near a ladder beside an electrical building. The man leaned over me, blocking my vision of the building, his eyes red.

"Bree said not to use too much, so you should be able to move soon," he said.

The pain was still shooting through me, and his words did little to relieve it. The only thing it did was make me want to kill Bree myself. He stepped away, and when I could no longer see him, I tried to think through the pain, to make out the sounds around me. After what felt like hours, I could hear quick footsteps. I knew the poison was wearing off, so I forced myself to turn my head. It took every bit of strength I had, but very slowly, I turned to find Damon running towards me.

"Damon, No!" I choked out.

Damon stopped, his face falling as he saw me sprawled out on the ground. I knew what I must look like. I had seen myself after I had been poisoned with Witch Hazel, it wasn't pretty. My skin shadows with red veins darkening to black — like sickly vines wrapping around my body. The poison heats my blood to boiling as it destroys me from the inside out.

"Elandra!" he shouted.

The man who had attacked me flew towards him at supernatural speed with a wooden plank, knocking him to the ground, and beating him repeatedly as hard as he could. Once Damon was on the ground, he sped away, coming back with a can, and covering Damon with gasoline. Breathing deeply, I turned over just as Elena came running from the alley, shouting.

"No!"

Using my elbows, I pushed myself up and crawled over to the edge of the concrete, where the vampire was still beating Damon.

"Elena, stay away," I said weakly.

Elena covered her mouth in horror as she looked at me, tears covering her face. "Ellie…" she said.

I lifted my finger to my lips and shook my head as slowly as I could, still feeling weak. My skin felt like it was on fire, and I could barely breathe, but I couldn't stay still. My sister and Damon both were in danger.

The man turned towards me, revealing his red eyes and vampiric teeth.

"Why are you moving? Bree said you could die if I moved you too much," he spat.

I laughed with a wince and sat up on my knees.

"Who are you?" Damon asked in confusion.

The man shook his head and adjusted his jacket with a sneer. "That's perfect! You have no idea," he said.

Elena stepped towards them, and the man growled menacingly.

I raised my hand and shook my head at her. "Elena, don't."

The man turned his head back to me and looked me over, the color returning to his eyes.

"What did he do to you?" I asked.

The vampire scoffed pain covering his face. "He killed my girlfriend," he softly said.

He turned back to Damon, covering him in more gas. I shakily stood, my whole body aching in a way that foretold nothing but death.

"What did she do to you, huh? What did she do to you?!" he shouted, shaking the can over Damon until every last drop covered him.

I took several deep breaths and took a step forward.

"Nothing," Damon panted.

"I don't understand," Elena said.

I shook my head and tried to remain upright, as I swayed back and forth. The man looked over his shoulder at Elena, his eyes were glassy. "My girlfriend went to visit Stefan, and Damon killed her. Got it?" he spat.

He hit Damon again, and I winced as he shouted in pain. As much as he deserved this, I couldn't stand watching it.

"Lexi, was your girlfriend?" I asked.

The man looked at me again, watching the way I swayed. He nodded gently, and I smiled. "She told us about you, but she said you were human."

He turned around to face me, eyes clouded with tears. "I was."

I walked towards him and raised my hands in surrender. "Did Lexi turn you?" I asked.

Tears fell from the man's red eyes, and I could feel my own heartbreak for him. "If you want to be with someone forever, you have to live forever," he said, voice breaking.

I nodded in agreement. "Yes, you do. I am sorry you lost you're forever. What Damon did was unforgivable. I loved Lexi too," I touched my chest and tried to ignore the stab of pain that shot through me. "But regardless of how horrible he can be, I'm begging you not to kill him," I said.

The man turned away from me and back to Damon, who still laid on the ground, moaning in pain. He kicked him in the head in anger. I cried out and placed a hand on my knee.

"Lexi loved you. She said, "When it's real, you can't walk away," Elena said, her hands in her hair.

The man turned to me and shook his head. "Well, that's a choice you're going to have to make," he said.

I fell to my knees and gasped in pain, my eyes never leaving Damon. "Don't. Don't, please don't hurt him," I begged.

I hadn't felt this weak in ages. I had always had my powers to lean on, now though, I was as human as Elena, and I hated it. The man reached into his pocket and took out a book of matches. I gasped in fear and agony. Lighting the match, he lifted it into the air above Damon.

I raised my hand in one last burst of effort. "Lexi was a good person, and she loved you. Which means you are good too. Don't do this, be better than him. For Lexi," I begged, touching the ground, my vision blurring.

The man took a few angry breaths, his nostrils flaring, and he glanced down at Damon with pure hatred.

Shaking the match, the man bent down and picked Damon up by the scruff of his shirt, eyes blood red. Damon's face was pale and drawn with pain, and what I could tell was regret, whether that be for what he had done, because of what it now costs him, or what pain it had inflicted on the poor man in front of him, I wasn't sure. His head lolled against his chest, and the man looked at him, shaking with rage. I could see the pain and torture in his eyes, he wanted nothing more than to kill Damon, but his love for Lexi was fighting against that impulse. The red in his eyes darkened, and his chin quivered slightly as he lifted Damon higher into the air, tossing him into the building a few feet away. Damon landed hard, his arms spread out, causing him to bounce off the building and land on the ground flat on his chest. I stayed on my knees, palms on the cold concrete in front of me.

Elena looked at the man her face ashen. "Thank you," she breathed.

The man stopped and looked at her, eyes hard. "I didn't do it for you."

As he passed by me, he lowered his head and cast sympathetic eyes down on me.

"He will only lead you to death," he said.

I glanced up at him and smiled. "It's not him I'm worried about, but thank you. Lexi would have been proud of you,"

The corner of his mouth turned up, and he closed his eyes briefly before speeding away. When he disappeared, Elena ran to me, helping me to my feet. We both made our way to Damon and helped him stand. When he was finally able to do so on his own, my strength gave out, and I fell. Elena sank with me as she tried to cover my weight. Damon pulled me from her arms, eyes scanning me quickly.

"What did he do to you, El? I don't know how to help you, baby."

I smiled weakly and reached up to stroke his cheek. "He poisoned me with something, something I didn't think anyone really knew about. Guess I was wrong, huh," I laughed, coughing deeply when my chest started to fill with blood.

Damon lowered me to the ground, and I could hear Elena crying somewhere beside me.

"What do I do? Just tell me what to do," he said.

I chuckled and lifted his wrist, shaking it gently. "Come on, you're more than just a pretty face," I wheezed.

Damon quickly bit into his wrist laid it on my dry lips. I drank deeply and felt my blood start to cool instantly as the effects of the poison left my body. I knew the change was occurring on the outside as well when Elena's tear-choked sobs turned into relieved gasps of air. I could feel her running her fingers through my hair, and I smiled when Damon pulled his wrist from my mouth, running a finger over my lips to rid them of any evidence of his blood.

"There's my, Elandra," he whispered as he helped me to my feet.

I smiled up at him and sent him a wink. "You stink," I said.

Lowering his nose to his shirt, he groaned in disgust. "This shirt is ruined," he moaned.

I shrugged as Elena came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"I've always preferred you in blue anyways," I said with a smile.

My eyes hardened as I felt Elena cry against me. I looked at Damon, his face a perfect replication of my own.

"Lena, let's get you back to the car. Damon and I need to talk to Bree one more time before we leave," Elena looked up at me in fear, and I smiled down at her. "It's ok, sis. There's nothing to worry about."

I led Elena back to the car, reassuring her time and time again that I was ok and then met Damon at the entrance of the bar.

"You sure you want to come in with me?" he asked, eyes moving to my face.

I flicked some imaginary dust from my jacket and sneered. "Please, as if this will be my first time," I said with a smirk.

Damon smiled and took my hand, taking me inside. Bree was alone at the bar, taking a shot, her back to us.

"We were just leaving. We wanted to say goodbye," Damon said.

Still facing the other direction, Bree answered, her voice flat. "Good to see you again, Damon."

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. "What about me. You showed me such respect before, Bree. I am one of the first of my kind, am I not?"

Damon approached her slowly, his face hard. "And no kiss?" he asked.

Bree turned around, fear covering her face, shoulders stiff. "I'm full of vervain. I put it in everything I drink," she said.

Smiling evilly, I stepped closer. "Vervain doesn't bother me, Bree," I said.

Tears started to pool in her eyes as she looked at Damon.

"And you're telling us this why?" Damon asked.

Bree's shoulders started to shake as she began to cry. "Lexi was my friend. How could you?" she asked as she turned around.

Damon sped in front of her, and she gasped in fear. I came up behind Damon and placed a hand on his shoulder, trailing it down his arm, and looked at Bree with pity.

"She was mine as well. I loved her, and honestly, I'll probably never truly forgive him for what he did. But he is still my Damon and always will be." I stepped closer to her as her breathing began to speed up. "And you tried to get him killed. No one hurts what's mine. Not to mention, you poisoned me. That's a betrayal I just can't allow," I said, my voice raw.

I stepped behind Damon as he moved closer to her. She gulped in fear.

"Did you think you could send someone to kill me and poison someone I care about without consequence?" he asked her, his eyes darkening.

"The tomb can be opened," she quickly spouted.

Damon tilted his head menacingly. "Your lying," he sighed in annoyance, turning his head.

Bree backed away her hands, outstretched behind her. "Emily's Grimoire, her spellbook. If you know how she closed the tomb, the reversal spell will be in the book. You can open that tomb," she said, eyes wide.

Damon spun on his heels and looked at me.

I nodded, my expression guarded. "It should work," I said.

Turning back to Bree, he stepped closer again. "Where is this book?" he asked.

Bree's shoulders shook, and she pushed her hands out towards Damon's chest. "I… I," she said.

Damon sneered, lowering his head in disappointment. "You have no idea," he said.

Bree shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. "No. I'm telling you the truth," she promised.

Damon stood intimately close, his hand on her face, caressing her cheek. He ran his thumb down onto her chin. "And I believe you. My dear, sweet Bree. That's why I'm almost sorry," he whispered.

I stepped closer and tilted my head, watching the fear fill her eyes as Damon plunged his fist into her chest. I felt sorry for the poor woman, but my pity for her could only go so far after what she had done. She gasped, mouth falling open, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes bulged as she looked into Damon's eyes, their ocean depths the last thing she would ever see. My lips turned down, it could have been worse. Damon pulled his wrist from her chest, heart in hand, and her eyes began to flutter closed. My cold eyes followed her body as it fell to the floor, almost gracefully. Damon looked down at her heart before it fell from his hand, sliding across his fingertips. When it landed on the ground with a small thud, he grabbed the towel from the counter — using it to clean the blood from his hands. Grabbing his jacket, he slung it over his shoulders, pulling his arms through.

"You ok?" he asked.

I smiled brightly and fixed the color of his jacket, "Yep. You ready to go home and find a Grimoire?"

He looked into my eyes deeply, most likely checking for shock or hatred. When he saw nothing to concern him, he twirled a piece of my hair and took my hand in his, leading me outside.

In the car, Elena leaned forward, her chin on the edge of my seat. "Are you sure your ok?" she asked.

I laughed, my voice still a bit rough. "Yes! Please don't ask again, Lena," I smiled.

Pulling my hair towards her, I could feel her braiding it with a sigh.

"Well, I have to award you at least ten points for avoiding death like a champ," she said.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "We can't keep awarding points for non-prank related things. It's against the rules."

Elena grumbled loudly, yanking my hair gently. "We make the rules, and I say with how messed up our life has gotten, awarding points for its craziness is a-okay," she said.

When she finished braiding my hair, I turned around and nodded. "Fine. It's a deal. We can award points for life's craziness," I said.

Damon pulled my braid and looked at me in confusion. "What the hell are you two going on about? I remember Stefan and I were awarded points recently," he said.

Elena shot me an amused look, and I pointed at her, letting her fill him in while I texted Stefan, telling him we were on our way home. Damon eyed me warily, but I ignored him.

After several hours we finally arrived back at the Boarding House. I slipped out of the car and stretched — my whole body cracking with the strain. Elena stood next to me, her eyes on the house — watching it uneasily.

"Go. He won't bite, unless you ask," I snarkily said.

Elena pushed me away, a disgusted expression on her face. "Hey, don't knock it till you try it, sister," I said, raising my hands in the air with a smirk.

She stuck her tongue out and headed inside.

Damon rounded the car and stood behind me. "Think she'll forgive him?" he asked.

I placed my hands on my hips and turned around. "She loves him. So yeah," I wrapped my hands around his neck and smiled wickedly. "Wanna give me a ride?"

With a smirk, he wrapped his arms around my waist and sped me away from Elena and Stefan.

We stopped in the woods behind my house, and I brushed the hair from my face. "That is fun but so nauseating," I laughed, holding my stomach.

Damon looked down at me with interest, his blue eyes piercing. "Thanks for saving my life today, Elandra,"

I brushed my fingers through his raven hair and shrugged. "While I'm around, I'll always save you, Damon."

His eyes closed and he took in a deep breath. "I thought I was going to lose you today, El. I can't go through that again. You have to live," he said.

Opening his eyes, he took my face in his hands. "Once we open the tomb, we will figure out what to do about this curse. Maybe Emily's Grimoire will have something in it that will help?"

I stepped away from him and smiled weakly. "Maybe." I looked at the house and then back to him. "I better get inside,"

He watched me go before speeding away into the night.

I ran inside and found Jenna sitting on the couch. "Hey, Ellie. You ok?" she asked.

I touched my head and frowned. "No. One of my headaches," I lied, bounding upstairs.

I tossed open the door and sat down on my bed, placing my head in my hands. I didn't understand why every mention of the tomb was like a punch in the stomach, but it was. Before I could overthink it, I heard the front door burst open, and Elena's angry voice floated up the stairs. I lifted my head just as she exploded into the room.

"Did you know?" she shouted.

I sat back and widened my eyes. "Know what? Your gonna have to be more specific," I said plainly.

Elena slammed my door closed, locking it behind her, and I stood quickly.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Did you know about Stefan saving me that night, and what he found out about us later on?" she asked.

My brows furrowed in genuine confusion. I had always wondered how Elena had survived the crash, and I had my ideas about us, but no one had ever told me anything.

"No. I don't know what you're talking about, Elena. Your gonna have to fill me in," I said.

Elena's eyes filled with tears, and she threw herself into my arms. "We are adopted, Elara. We're not really Gilberts," she whispered.

I held her as she cried — my own mind full of questions. If Miranda and Grayson were not our real parents, then who were they?

[sugatsby]

Migraine Migration

Group: GOT7 Pairing: Park Jinyoung X Reader Rating: Fluff Prompt: You made the mistake of forgetting your medication at home and ending up worrying Jinyoung. Word count: 2 550

Warning: mentions fainting

Attending music shows with a group of idols is always chaotic, and today was no different. Normally you are up and about at four in the morning, doing the boys’ makeup and getting them ready to go to the studio at a separate venue. The people at these shows always made the idols and their staff arrive at five o’clock in the morning, letting everyone wait their turn afterwards. You figured it has something to do with solidarity towards the people that worked at the show, and you understood, but making everyone wait around all day, just ended up being a drag. Only when the boys had to do their soundcheck and their performance takes, you were running around, touching up their hair and makeup. Those were the most hectic moments. A group only had so much time to get two takes done before another act takes their place.

This morning your alarm clock went off at three in the morning, waking you up from your not-so-peaceful slumber. You were constantly moving around, not being able to find a comfortable sleeping position. You hated sleeping alone, but you had no other choice that night since GOT7’s manager would be the one waking the boys in the morning of a TV performance. Since you and Jinyoung weren’t really comfortable yet to tell people about your relationship, trying to be as professional as possible, you were dating in secret. Only his members knew, making it a little easier to sneak around.

After a quick shower and getting dressed, you get into a taxi with the suitcases containing all of the things you’d need that day and you make your way to the salon where the boys would be arriving soon. Traffic was a bitch in the morning. You’re late.

When you get out of the taxi you grab your belongings as quickly as possible and jog your way through the hallways until you find the room that is supposed to be occupied by the boys of GOT7.

When you burst through the door, all eyes are on your panting figure. “I’m so sorry I’m late! Traffic this morning was the worst!” you explain, trying to even out your breath while you walk towards one of the mirrors to set up your stuff.

Mina, one of the other makeup artists, tells you it’s okay. There is still enough time to get the boys’ makeup and hair done. You sigh, opening your case and placing some products down on the table. Your so focused on your task you don’t notice Jinyoung taking a seat next to you before he calls your name in order to get your attention.

“Oh, hey!” you show him a smile. “Good morning!” You’re really glad to see him, even if it’s only been a day.

“Good morning!” he beams back, creases appearing around his eyes. Oh, how you loved those eye wrinkles! “Are you okay, Y/N? You seem a bit out of it,” he asks you worriedly.

“No, I’m fine,” you try to convince him, while starting to work on his eyebrows. “Just had some trouble falling asleep last night.” You lower your voice, making sure none of your colleagues overhear you. “You know I hate sleeping alone,” you pout.

Jinyoung chuckles at your fake disappointed face. He leans in, his lips almost touching the shell of your ear. “We’ll fix that tonight. Although I can’t promise to let you get the sleep you’ll need,” he whispers playfully.

When Jinyoung moves back you give him a disapproving look, shaking your head. He lets out another chuckle. He knows you secretly like his teasing. The small smile tugging on the corners of your lips tell him that. The two of you chat a little about some general stuff for a while – trying not to raise too much suspicion – until Jinyoung is ready and Youngjae takes his place.

When the guys are ready and on their way to the TV studio, you sit down on the chair next to you. You rub your hands over your face before massaging your temples and letting out a heavy sigh. Mina comes over while cleaning her brushes, asking if you’re okay. You tell her you feel a bit of a migraine come up, justifying it by stating a bad night’s sleep as the cause. You brush her concern off. “I’ll survive,” you smile reassuringly at her and you stand up to clean up your workspace and pack everything back into your cases to take it all to the studio with you.  

At the end of the morning, the boys began their first real task: the soundcheck. Their outfits were picked, mics were hooked up, and their makeup and hair was done.

You were just finishing up Bambam’s hair when Jaebum came up to you. “Hey, Y/N! You okay? You look a little pale today.”

His concern makes you smile. To some people he might come across as cold, but in real life he’s a very warm person, always making sure everybody’s needs are taken care of and very protective of the people he’s closest to. You experienced his protective side first-hand when you told the guys about your relationship with Jinyoung. Thankfully, after a year, you managed to get one step closer to becoming one of those people Jaebum’s protective of.

“Must be the lighting,” you joke, trying not to make him worry.

“I mean it,” he insists. “You look tired.”

“It was just a bit late, last night, when I fell asleep. Nothing major. Don’t worry!” you reassure him with a smile.

He answers with a nod and a brief ‘okay’ before walking back to the group to discuss the performance some more.

About two hours passed when the guys were up to perform. While running around between the practising boys, fixing their makeup, your headache got worse. You could barely focus on the things you were supposed to do. Waves of nausea started to hit you whenever your heart rate sped up a little or when a waft of hairspray floated your way.

While the boys start performing, you hurry back to the waiting room, looking for your purse. Your little headache has started to convert into something much worse: a migraine. You’ve suffered from these attacks for about five years now, each one a bit different from the other. But your prescribed meds have always done their job. If only you could find them!

After pouring all of the contents of your purse onto a table, you give up. You forgot your migraine meds at home. You could hit yourself in the face for this, but that would only make your headache worse.

Discouraged, you decide there is nothing else to do but to suck it up and finish your job for today. Hurrying back to the side of the stage, you find that the boys have just finished their first take. Grabbing some tissues, handing some of them to Mark and Yugyeom, you walk up to Jinyoung and start dabbing the sweat from his forehead.

By the time the boys are cooled down and start preparing themselves for the second take, you can’t see clearly anymore, weird, sparkly dots disturbing your vision. You even feel yourself breaking out in a cold sweat by the time you’re fixing Jackson’s makeup.

When you start applying more foundation on Jackson’s face you feel faint, darkness starting to creep around the edges of your vision. You feel Jackson grab your forearm when a sharp pain shoots through your skull, making your knees buckle from underneath you. You hear Jackson calling out your name before everything gets dark in front of your eyes, and you let yourself fall against him.

When Jackson notices you’re not feeling well, he grabs your arm, trying to get you to look at him. But when you don’t react to his voice, he starts to panic. He calls out to Jinyoung, who turns his head in your direction just in time to see you collapse in Jackson’s arms. Jinyoung’s eyes go wide. “Y/N!” he gasps, running towards you, almost tripping over stray cables. “What happened?!” he questions Jackson worriedly, looking at your unconscious figure.

“I don’t know,” Jackson panics. “She just fainted!”

When Jinyoung looks at the beads of sweat that have formed near your temples, he starts to worry so much he doesn’t even hear Mark shout for a paramedic. Together with Jackson he carries you to a sofa in the corner.

When all of the boys are called to the stage to film their second performance, Jinyoung is reluctant to leave you.

“Go,” Mina reassures him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of her until the doctor’s here.” Jinyoung nods in reply and lets out a sigh. “She’ll be alright, Jinyoung,” she assures him. “Go and perform, we’ll be here when you’re done.”

But you weren’t there when he was done. Coming backstage again, he’s confronted with an empty couch. Sensing his confusion, one of the staff members of the show walks up to him. “You’re looking for the girl that fainted earlier?” he asks, his question getting answered with a nod. “The paramedics took her to your waiting room.” With those last words Jinyoung hurries back to their room, the boys following close behind him.

You wake up when you feel something cold being pressed against your forehead. You frown and let your eyes flutter open. The first thing you notice are the bright lights on the ceiling. You let out a groan, squinting your eyes, oversensitive to the brightness. You hear a voice, that sounds like your boyfriend’s, asking to switch some of the lights out. That’s when you start to look around, Jinyoung being the first person you see.

“Hey,” he greets you with a soft voice and a weak smile tugging around his lips. “How are you feeling?” You feel him squeeze your hand, just now noticing that he’s been holding it the whole time. You squeeze back.

“My head hurts,” you groan, moving your other hand to your forehead covered with a small, wet towel. “How long have I been out for?”

“Just a little over thirty minutes,” he frowns worriedly.

You see Mina walk over, a concerned smile on her face. She holds out what seems to be a box with some type of painkillers. “The paramedic said you might need this,” she says.

“Thanks, Mina,” you say, a tired smile forming around your lips.

Jinyoung turns to you. “Do you need help to sit up?” he asks.

You give him a slight nod. “I think so,” you say with a weak voice, the nausea and pain becoming too much again.

Jinyoung places his arm underneath your upper body to help you sit up on the couch, causing the wet cloth to slip from your forehead onto your lap. You love the feeling of Jinyoung’s body against you, causing you to lean your head on his shoulder when you manage to sit up straight. You don’t care about the fact that the members, Mina and their manager is there to see it, you just want to be comforted by your boyfriend right now.

When Mina hands you one of the pills and a bottle of water, you take it, hoping the pounding in your head will subside soon. After laying you down once more, Jinyoung grabs the wet cloth from your lap and places it on your forehead again, pressing it down with his hand. It’s a pleasant feeling compared to the very prominent pounding that feels like your head is about to explode.

“You should try to sleep for a bit,” Jinyoung suggests. “In about an hour and a half we have to get back up on stage for the ending. After that we’ll be able to take you home.”

You shut your eyes and try to focus on Jinyoung’s hand pressing down on your forehead. You feel someone placing a blanket back over your upper body, something you didn’t even notice was there earlier. After a couple of minutes, you fall asleep to the soft whispers of the members in the background.

After the show, GOT7 walks along the hallway to their room, greeting and thanking each staff member they come across on the way. Yugyeom is the first one to enter. “She’s still asleep,” he observes with a whisper when the rest of the boys shuffle into the room. “Should we wake her?”

“No, let her sleep. She needs it,” Jaebum suggests. “Let’s just hurry and get dressed, so we can take her home.” All the boys nod in agreement before each walking over to their own clothes.

Within fifteen minutes, Jinyoung notices the whole gang has packed up and is ready to go, except for you. He’s contemplating to let you sleep and just carry you to the car wrapped in your blanket. But as normal as it is for a boyfriend to carry his girlfriend, it’s definitely not a normal thing to do when you’re a simple co-worker. So, he decides to wake you up to not raise anymore suspicion, like he managed to do earlier today, around the staff, by being overly concerned about your wellbeing.

After waking you up, Jinyoung grabbed his stuff and your purse – Youngjae was so helpful to take your case with him. With the blanket still wrapped around you, Jinyoung helped you into the car next to him.

The boys decided to bring you home first, letting you ride with them in one of the cars. Mark, Yugyeom, Jackson and Bambam were in the car that would be driving straight to the dorms, while Jaebum, Youngjae and Jinyoung were in the car with you, taking you home first. The car ride was a silent one. Still feeling a bit drowsy, the swaying of the car lulled you to sleep. Jinyoung felt the eyes from his manager staring at him through the rear-view mirror, when your head ended up on his shoulder. He hoped he would just brush it off, not reading into the gesture.

After about thirty minutes, the car stops in front of your apartment building, the breaking of the car causing you to wake up from your little nap. After Jinyoung helps you get out of the car, he’s about to follow you, when he gets stopped by his manager calling out his name. He looks at the man through the mirror.

“Go,” he tells Jinyoung with a smile. “Make sure she’s alright,” he continues, a wink following. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Jinyoung smiles at him gratefully. “Thank you, I will.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he laughs before turning on the ignition, signalling his departure.

Jinyoung says goodnight to the other boys end gets out of the car before grabbing your stuff from the trunk. As soon as he slams it shut, the car drives of, leaving him next to you at the entrance of your apartment building.

“I guess your manager isn’t all that bad, huh?” you send him a weak smile, Jinyoung mimicking your expression.

“I guess…” he mutters. “But now, let’s get you into bed and order some food. I’m starving!”

“Let’s!” you giggle, pecking him on the lips. “I think we both deserved it.”

[moosebeans]

All of the TØP asks!

Answered. After six months. Answered.

It took me ages so better appreciate it 😂I had to do it on mobile bc my laptop’s not working :D 

*SELF TITLED*IMPLICIT DEMAND FOR PROOF: what’s your biggest fear?I mean, like except for death, probably not being enough (what a greeeaaat start)FALL AWAY: what was the last lie you told to yourself?‘That’s not wrong’THE PANTALOON: have you ever been deeply affected by a death?I don’t think so, because the last time someone from my closest family died was when my great-grandmother died and I was 6 then so I don’t even remember her that much.ADDICT WITH A PEN: have you ever felt that what you want the most is out of your reach?Hahahaha I’m feeling this almost everyday, next question pleaseFRIEND, PLEASE: have you ever had to talk someone out of making a big mistake?Yes. I won’t tell the details bc you know, privacy, but I’m incredibly happy I managed to do so.MARCH TO THE SEA: do you conform or go against the standards?I’m not a rebel but definitely I’m more of going against the rules, but only if they are wrong.JOHNY BOY: who in your life is sort of unsung hero?Let’s just take a moment to appreciate @has-a-crisisOH MS BELIEVER: someone whom you wish were more confident of themselves?@has-a-crisis and @itsskylerblue and @justanotherduke you guys are wonderful and I don’t understand why you can’t believe that 💛💜AIR CATCHER: have you ever been afraid to tell someone you love them?Not really. Maybe bc I’ve never been in love lmao but if you mean platonic love, I don’t really like telling that bc I’m always scared that that person will let me down eventually and I’ll be sad that they’ve meant that much to me and they knew that.TRAPDOOR: is there something you hide from everyone, even the people close to you?I tend to hide my feelings and my mental state bc I don’t want to overwhelm anyone with mine problems as they already have theirs :’)A CAR, A TORCH, A DEATH: do you love somebody do much you are willing to die for them?Definitely yes, buuttt I’d rather Live for them (what a Ride reference)TAXI CAB: what do you believe will happen to you after you die?Ok, so I’m trying to believe there is some afterlife, and if there is I hope I can get to heaven (or just the good option in general if it’s not heaven), but for now I can’t say I’m sure it will happen so like. idk manBEFORE YOU START YOUR DAY: what is the song that make you feel confident?You mean one? Here’s a whole list: fairly local, lane boy, famous last words, my songs know what you did in the dark, misery (by blink-182) and if I had more time I’d list much moreISLE OF FLIGHTLESS BIRDS: what holds you back from reaching your whole potential?My lovely insecurities, thanks for asking. Seriously, there isn’t any specific one.

*REGIONAL AT BEST*GUNS FOR HANDS: how do you redirect negative thoughts?I don’t really redirect them, I basically just try to forget them by listening to loud music lmao :’)HOLDING ON TO YOU: who do you come to when you need help?@has-a-crisis, @justanotherduke and, thanks to the time zones, (the only good thing about them) when it’s too late there’s always @itsskylerblue awake(the whole thing will just be about them I guess)ODE TO SLEEP: are you a night owl or an early riser?Definitely the night owl. Although I prefer to be called a bat.SLOWTOWN: a day you’d relive over and over again if you could?3/11/2016 my tøp concertCAR RADIO: do you prefer to listen to radio or your own music in the car?Lemmie tell you. The songs on the radio are NOT as okay as that one song suggests. But if it’s an actual long journey then crappy pop is a part of the aesthetic.FOREST: something that didn’t go how you had planned?Like my teenage years for example??GLOWING EYES: what are your dreams like?Well sometimes they are amazing and I wish I didn’t wake up. Sometimes they are messy and cause headaches. Sometimes I have nightmares. And they are absolutely the worst.KITCHEN SINK: have you created something that only you understand?I guess yes? Like, the art I draw is pretty easy to understand but still they surely are some aspects of it only I know?ANATHEMA: what bothers you the most?I’m just never enough. But I don’t have energy to do anything about that.LOVELY: best compliment you’ve ever received?“FUCK that’s good” about my art or “you’re literally alien goddess or what” :) RUBY: have you ever been unexpectedly inspired or affected by someone?Yes. No, you won’t hear details.TREES: someone you wish you could speak to?I’d say… to my mom. I wish I could tell her everything. But it’s not that easy.BE CONCERNED: have you ever questioned something everyone around you firmly believed?Like… does life even have sense?CLEAR: are you an introvert or an extrovert?You see. I’m an extrovert to people I like. But if I’m faced with people I don’t like I’m a total introvert.HOUSE OF GOLD: have you promised something you can’t fulfill until you get older?So many things, honestly, I don’t have time to list them.

*VESSEL*ODE TO SLEEP: have you ever asked someone for forgiveness multiple times?Yes.HOLDING ON TO YOU: do you write in cursive or print?Somewhere between (WHAT A REBEL I AM)MIGRAINE: favourite and least favourite days of the week? Why?Fave- Wednesdays bc I have easy school and I’m still not too tired with the whole weekLeast fave- Sundays and I won’t quote Migraine but more less that’s whyHOUSE OF GOLD: what kind of house do you want to have when you get older?Small but cozy and full of love :’)CAR RADIO: have you ever had anything stolen from you?That one bitch in kindergarten stole my my little ponies once. She got caught and she was defending herself by saying she had to take them on a walk because I kept them inside for too long. Other than that I don’t think so, except someone might have stolen my converse at school but they also might have been thrown away bc I forgot to take them home for winter break as I should SEMI-AUTOMATIC: something you wish you could change from your personality?Idk I could stop being such a salty bitch lmao SCREEN: have you ever pretended to be someone you’re not to impress somebody?I’ve lost count, but I actually don’t do it anymore bc, you know, I stopped giving any effs about whether people like me or not THE RUN AND GO: the last person at whose house you stayed? the last person that stayed at your house?My godparents and for the second one my cousinsFAKE YOU OUT: thing you seem to care about more than most people?I’m really insecure so basically everything that is about me that I don’t like and can’t really change GUNS FOR HANDS: the last lie you told to your parents?“Yeah, I’ll try to go to sleep earlier” or “no, I’m not sad”TREES: someone you wish you could see?(strictly see, no dialogue)I don’t know really? Because just seeing someone is so… not enough if you can’t talk TRUCE: what inspires you to stay alive?My true friends @has-a-crisis, @itsskylerblue and @justanotherduke, a.k.a. the ones I can always count on. Also that small amount of hope that it eventually gets better KITCHEN SINK: have you ever told anyone to go away even though you didn’t want to be alone?Many, many times

*BLURRYFACE*HEAVYDIRTYSOUL: have you ever had to put your dream on hold?Yeah, multi times.STRESSED OUT: whose opinion do you value the most?Probably my friends’ because I know they really care about meRIDE: a fantasy you would never act on?I’d never actually kill the people I sometimes want to.FAIRLY LOCAL: are you typically hot or cold?You mean as a person or do I feel cold or hot? Both answers are cold TEAR IN MY HEART: have you found the tear in my heart?I don’t think so.LANE BOY: have you ever stood up for what you believed in?Yes, multiple times actuallyTHE JUDGE: what’s scarier, the fear or what causes the fear?As a very anxious person I know it’s usually the fear.DOUBT: a doubt that you have that you wish you could shake?If I’m really good at anything or are people just nice to me.POLARIZE: where do you hide your problems?In my diary or in my head.WE DONT BELIEVE WHATS ON TV: do you more value material objects or the intangible?The intangible. I’m actually quite minimalistic so I don’t care about things that much anyway.MESSAGE MAN: when things get hard do you sleep or stay awake?I’m staying AWAKEHOMETOWN: where is your hometown?Warsaw, Poland. Unless you mean something metaphorical then idkNOT TODAY: do you let people get to you?It takes time. A long time.GONER: what is your blurryface like?My blurryface is a mess. Always in the back of my head. When it comes out, everything begins to be too much and everything loses its sense.

Well that was a ride. Congratulations if you actually read it all. Also sorry I’m answering this after literal six months.

[nick-thedeputyofedensgate]

Supernatural idea?

Hi! I'm new here and I just wanna add a little something. I have an idea for a demon/angel/ rock band story of destiel. If anyone knows any writers or possibly anyone willing to write this I'd be greatly happy. I'll give you my plot, sort of? Soo Dean, Adam and Sam are demons along with their parents ( John and Mary) and have been living down the street from the novaks who are angels (Micheal, Lucifer. Gabriel, castiel, Anna (although in my head she doesn't do much besides flirt with dean) (samandrial or alfie is not a novak but is bff with Adam)) Now the pairings are Micheal/Adam. The relationship is twisted. Micheal acts like an adult but also caves in to whatever needs Adams (wants). Adam is a spoiled brat who constantly starts fights with Micheal but he is also depressed and very scared that Micheal will leave him. (Adam believes Micheal cheats a lot but he doesn't :( Micheal is Adams bitch) (Micheal does break up with Adam when he can't deal with it and Adam becomes a mess but Micheal goes back to him because he loves him to much) (Adam takes pills (he's mental as shit)) Dean/castiel. Dean is a demon (lead singer) and is a "bad boy" smokes, drinks. Etc. castiel is innocent but also has a dirty mind and trails behind dean anywhere he goes. Dean finally gives in and dates castiel. They are smitten. And people tease dean Sam/Gabriel . Gabriel is the drummer of the band who snaked his way into young Sam Winchester heart. I just imagine them as always teasing each other but also really lovey Dovey. (I also see Lucifer openly flirting with Sam) (I have imagined for dumb reasons gab and Sam breaking up) Kevin is the keyboardist, Micheal and Lucifer play guitar (Doesn't matter who plays bass and acoustic) and it all begins when the angels hear dean singing to himself quietly in the gym locker room shower (totally stole that from glee) (you can change that) Other characters can be add. I picture bobby in it a lot (a teacher maybe) oh! Yup. They are In High school. Older!dean, Micheal and gab. Maybe like 18 or 19 and young castiel. Sam and Adam (Adam is the youngest at 15 maybe 14) Also I do see this as going as long as to where they are grown ups, maybe married and are obviously a famous band (John, Mary. Chuck and his wife (whoever you want that to be) are very supportive) Now the songs I mainly see them singing are songs by fallout boy. 21 pilots, panic at the disco. The songs I most like would be "this is gospel", irresistible" "uma Thurman" "centuries" I also picture Adam writing "migraine" but asking alfie to sing it. And then I imagine dean singing "death of a bachelor" to let everyone know he's marrying castiel. And singing "don't threaten me with a good time" to describe his bachelor party. I hope you get the idea of where I'm taking the music career, of course you can add other songs as well. I also do see Gabriel singing, stuff like "stitches" and "treat you better" (again Lucifer flirts with with Sam a lot. I have actually imagined Sam dating Lucifer for a while.) and for some reason I see jo singing Melanie Martinez 🤣 and of course Crowley and all the others like Charlie and Garth are In here too. I see dean as kinda like popular (mostly cause he's a badass who starts fights) his bffs are Charlie and benny. But yup! I'm sure there's some stuff I'm missing. I do wanna say that the background characters such as ruby, lileth (I did see her dating Lucifer too at some point) etc. you can do whatever with them Of course the society. I want the world to have come to a recent change, meaning that when the main characters were children, angels and demons did not mix but ! It has now changed to where demon/angel relationships are starting to form but are not totally accepted so just imagaine a band with angels and demons getting along and dating each other! Lol people go crazy but it also cause more fans and people to accept it and then it's legendary and not just cause of the music but also because it's the first band with angels and demons. Comment or inbox me if you would like to use this:) (If no one wants to write it then I will try my hand at writing it. But I'll need a little help. I do have a story out on archive of your own but that is a joker story...but I'll try) (I plan on this story being smutty)

[me-importa-mother-blog]

it FINALLY fucking happened

i have a migraine and awful cramps from this stupid IUD rn but i have to get this out. i have to capture the authenticity of my feelings right now. it finally happened. i could cry happy tears because of how incredible and great i feel in this moment. brendon and darian are back together. i saw a pics of them on instagram w captions about how much they love each other and wanna know what i felt when i saw those pictures? fucking NOTHING. I FINALLY FEEL NOTHING. ok, i feel sad for them but thats honestly truly the only emotion that came up for me. i no longer feel the intense nausea, feeling like i am getting stabbed in the pit on my stomach, rush of emotions pouring over my entire body, ringing in my ears, dissosiation that i felt the first time i heard the words from his lips “i have a girlfriend now”. that feeling that didn’t seem to go away for MONTHS. that feeling that would resurface every time i looked at their social media and saw how fucking happy and perfect they were. it was fucking disgusting. i can finally say i don’t feel those feelings anymore and u know what that means? 

i means i have healed. it means i have moved on. it means I have successfully mended the broken pieces of my heart that he left me with. i did that. with the help of some loving and supportive friends, yes. but it was me. i’m the one that chose to live all those times i wanted to die, and i chose to pretend to be happy to the point that my bones hurt to their core because i was faking it so hard. i chose to move back home to something familiar and stable so i could feel safe, so i could get away from the torment of his memory, from the fear of running into her, or him, or worse the both of them together. 

at one point i felt that i gave everything i had built so hard for the past two years away. my life in california was ruined because of him. the reason i went out there in the first place to get clean back in april of 2014 was because he told me to. my body was deteriorating faster than i could keep track of and i mentioned, maybe i should move back to cali and get clean, and you should too and we can be together. and he told me to go out there so i fucking did. hes the reason, the motivation i had to get clean. everything i did from that point forward was for him or because of him or for us. so WE could live together happily for fucking forever. 

originally we had a plan to go to rehab for a bit then run away together but at some point something switched in me. i think it was god working in my life honestly. but at some point i decided u know what i wanna give this thing a shot. i wanna see what its like to be clean and happy and all that these weird ppl in AA rave about. and then he went down there from fresno and he got clean and holy shit that was the most incredible summer of my life. i wish i had pictures but i deleted probably 98% of them. but i had so many good times w him, riding my bike to the beach while he rode his skateboard. holding hands, going to meetings together. i was so fucking proud to tell everyone he was my boyfriend. i was so goddamn fucking in love. 

and now i’m crying, but not because i want to be with him. no, never. i’m crying because the happiness i felt was so pure and genuine and incredible and indescribable. i wouldnt change it for anything. if i could go back and relive those moments we shared that summer but i would have to relive the heartbreak again then i would probably do it. but i wouldnt change anything. i would relieve the good and the bad but i would want the result to be the same as what it is in this moment. hes with her and i’m with myself on my ellies bed in my parents house with rocky and luna sleeping at my feet. i don’t want to be with him anymore but i don’t regret what we had because it was true love and it was passionate and intense and a type of love i will never feel again. because it was extremely toxic. as intense as the good moments were so were the bad. and it got reeeeaaally bad.

he told me i deserved to be molested when i was 5. he told me this while we were in line for the screamin eagle at disneyland, because i was paying more attention to my phone than to him. he was upset and we got in an argument and thats what he said to me. that a fucking five year old deserved to get some creepy mother fuckers fingers in her asshole. real cute huh? but i’m not a saint. at some point i told him i’m glad his dad left him and that he probably did because he hated him cuz hes useless and that his mom is a slut cuz she has 4 baby daddies. i said some horrible things too that i’m not proud of but in those moments i felt so justified. as the anger wore off tho i felt guilty for saying those things, and so would he. so we would always make up. and thiings would be really good again until the next fight and shit would hit the fan. and then we started calling the cops on each other. he was never physically abusive to me, except one time he pinned me down like a pretzel cuz i was beating the living shit out of him. the position he had me in hurt a lot but he was protecting himself cuz i had lost it. i dont remember what that particular fight was about. the weather maybe? idk dude we would fight over the DUMBEST shit. 

i remember thinking and telling him, “if you act like a bitch u get treated like one”. which means youre a fucking dick to me so i’m a dick right back mother fucker. i ran him over w my car once. he smashed my phone to pieces cuz i searched a guy on facebook. he would go through my phone and find texts from months ago where i said a guy was hot and he would flip out call me a whore tell me nobody is ever gonna love me, and go spread my legs somewhere. he would accuse me of fucking literally EVERYONE. if i was off work 5 minutes late its because i was fucking my manager in the back. if i wasnt texting him back while i was w jenny or kolby its cuz i was fucking them. oh he hated all my friends also. and had no friends of his own. i was his whole world which really bugged me at the time but i lowkey miss that now. i miss feeling that important and special and loved. and i miss having that much power over someone, i’ll admit it. 

but despite all this bad shit there were good times, and they were really fucking good. specifically its the feelings. i felt safe with him. like nothing could ever hurt me or touch me, besides him. but i was addicted to the chaos so i didn’t mind the verbal and emotional abuse and i dished it right back. although lets be real here according to my sponsor, therapist, mentor, friends, anyone w a brain. he was definately the sicker one out of the two of us. we were both so fucking sick but i was a wee bit healthier i would say. there were so many times we would ride around costa mesa on harbor blvd at midnight complaining about how much it sucked to not have a car, or money, or anything. we had NOTHING. he really had nothing when he got there besides like 3 shirts and old pair of vans 2 sizes too small and shorts. i created him. everything he got from that point forward was from me. all of it. and there were weeks at a time where he had no money and he ate because i bought him food. not that he owes me anything or that he ever did, i did those things because i wanted to because i was in love and he was gonna be my life partner. everything i ever wanted i wanted with him or nobody else. anyway, we would be riding through the kmart parking lot on harbor and wilson, he would be coming w me to drop me off at fordham and we would complain about how much it fucking sucked but “one day we would look back on all of this and laugh.” because “one day were gonna make it” we said. we had so many hopes and dreams together. he was supposed to be my fucking husband. i was going to be the mother of all of his children. 

but you know what? it was all a fucking fantasy. a beautiful fantasy but a fantasy nonetheless. and after spending summer 2015 apart because he decided drugs were more important than me, we got back together in september and shit didnt get much better. it was a bit at times but mostly no. same shit. really intense good times. really intense bad times. passionate love, passionate hate. a couple days before new years 2015 going into 2016 we broke up for the last time. this is when he broke my phone cuz i searched jacob berry on fbook. after that i was done. i had been done thousands of times before but i was really done this time. we didn’t talk at all for like a week then i saw him on his birthday january 7th and we decided we were gonna get back together in august when he had a year sober. we werent gonna talk in the meantime but we were for sure getting back together. then one day i added a guy, kyle on facebook and he lost it. again with being called a slut and blah blah blah. and this time we were really done. like FORREAL. i was moving on everything was great blah blah. i dont think i actually thought i had lost him tho. it was gonna be like every other time where we will get back together again. so i wasnt really that sad. i think i was thriving off the anger i felt towards him. like are u seriously gonna be done w me over adding a dude???? how stupid. 

and then one day in late february my world came crashing down in the middle of the target electronics section. hannah texted or called me i cant remember but said she needed to tell me something. i demanded to know immedietally and she hesitated, i knew it was bad. she told me darian and brendon were talking. darian, my former client darian. darian, the girl who I TOLD STORIES ABOUT BRENDON TO WHEN SHE WAS STRUGGLING W HER EX IN HOPES THAT I COULD OFFER HER SOME EXPERIENCE STRENGTH AND HOPE. i was vulnerable w her about him. i was trying to be helpful, i shared stuff w her i dont share w everyone but since her sitution at the time was similar to my realtionship w brendon i opened up to her. how fucking dare she. that fucking stupid bitch. how dare HE. knowing she was my client. i even had considered her a friend up until this point. i had considered moving in with her for christsakes wtf. and that the first time i felt that feeling. that awful awful feeling i no longer felt tonight. and then i felt it again a month later when he told me they were officially together. and again when i learned she met his family. (oh yeah thats another reason i think i stayed as long as i did because i adore his family. )

a bunch of other shit happened in between. him and i started talking again in march briefly when he basically cheated on her w me, then he came back in my life just this past december only to leave again like the coward that he is. but i’m grateful that happened because before i had always wondered what i had done to make him basically leave me for her, or so i felt. because he DID choose her over me. he chose to start a new relationship over mending the one that we had that was supposed to be forever. and i lost my shit. was literally destroyed shell of a human for months. extremely emotionally and mentally unstable. lost a bunch of friends cuz they couldnt handle me. got kicked out of school, lost a scholarship, almost lost a job, attempted suicide, went to the psych ward. it was really really rough for a long time. but today all of that has changed. i no longer feel that deeprooted sadness, devastation, horrid unbearable pain. today i have healed. i feel very sad for the both of them because i know how unstable their relationship is. cuz i was there. i was her. and i HATED her for a long time but i dont anymore because i feel bad she is in love w him and is gonna get hurt and heartbroken like i did. 

but i’m glad he came in my life again this past december because it cleared up a lot of unanswered thoughts i had. A. he still loves me and will always love me as i will him. B. he is thankful for me being in his life and will never forget me, and C. I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG. i fought w every fiber of my being for us to be together and hes the one that threw it all away. hes the one that walked away. i promised him from the moment i knew i was in love w him that as long as we both loved each other we could fix anything. but he wasnt willing to try anymore so at least i know i gave it my all and its his loss cuz he was too weak to try to work together to make things right. or maybe we just werent meant to be. or maybe both.

irregardless, my arm is so mother fucking cramped i can barley type. and i have so much more i could say, i could go on forever. but the point is that the horrid feelings i once felt are no longer there anymore and i am truly 100000% happy today when i once thought i was going to die without him. so i am proof that healing from the most excrusiating heartbreak is possible and its possible to be happier when u lose ppl u cant imagine losing, and when u get a new life that u didnt even want

[topbeautifulwomens]

#I’m #Leaving #You #anime #acting #dancefloor #funnymemes #live #makeuplover #meme #photographer #sketch #taekwondogirl

I AM IN THE MAGMA CORE Inside of the laundry place under the developing with the refreshing odor of Tide detergent on my fingers in the aromatic spring air blowing in the undisplay screened window obtaining cosmetic in each and everyworking day functions which includes carrying out the laundry inside of a confined scenario never publishing but currently being and being once more though torture finals for yrs and even a lot more many years I’m not existing in opposition to you here is easily named I’M LEAVING YOU

I climb back again down the cross back up the partitions the place I’m driven towards my confront and breasts my acheful nose is throbbing I climb out of the yellow satin Devil coffin where I am choking on dry smoky air you’ve been smoking cigarettes Marlboros in my coffin I got you out I free of billed you And you shut the lid on me And I could not escape the suffocation I own the base as I incorporate been there all alengthy it isn’t really ever submission but an ascension on the cross I climmattress back down to Hades my residence to obtain absent from you

I understood Lucifer in element Throughout your mercisignificantly less challenging eyes I was in your upper body nevertheless in tranquil innocence I dwelled as Christ when it grew to become

also much I escaped as a female Christ at occasions a boy Christ insisting the one-time crucifying be an quick launch IT WASN’T SO I AM LEAVING YOU It is entirely ever LEAVING TU LEAVING YOU LEAVING VOUS

It is a horrible drama I painting but the black Prince of Darkness mask I wear my nakedness my little one’s human body my tenderness are my real rage You put me in open up air graves with no coffin Merely dust or low cost plywood once I comprehendd I experienced arrived at a new low in life I had to dig my way up to get out Astay

You ate evening meal although I lay in the world I noticed the heat pleasant light-weights that excluded me from the eating room once more I felt black while I starved outside the house under the chilly soil I saw you sitting down uncaring taking in and smiling the Arab smile I utilised to like earlier maybe you were happy but it was the Holocaust for me it truly is too late for a rescue, pointless to say

It is a rolling wheelchair exit I acknowledge traveling down the Sausalito freeway to Santa Monica where the bitch was in my route as I wheel out the door you were position guiding her locating the exact level the sunshine emerges in situation I could one day see from inside a dim criminal offense alley trash pile that he set me down on sitting with the homeless black men and ending my clean fish bones from a very good fish sandwich with tobasco I could have choked but did not you hoped I might choke but like the happy cat who still left with satisfstep I AM LEAVING YOU

The fresh scent of Tide on my apparel And my burdened pores and skin-sjourneyped hands The dryer sheet a rough tissue for my nose The tears I have shed for the agonies an sudden reward of deliberately wilted bouquets Are a wracking BOUNDING pain in my head an ever-tightening gold and silver steel band probably copper perhaps American pewter the hefty mesh of an armored Crusades fit I am donning on my slim have toers becoming a headache torture professional I had to compose and studies a new corporate aspirin merchandise for the aid of my migraine as well as yours I ended the pain by strolling away

Nonetheless the fresh freshness lifts me up on to the unfound highway Without having credit score for my work last year ahead of this year’s hypnosis paralyzed me A dropped real truth by way of pressured walk excusions in the open air It was a psychological establishment and you pushed the wheelchair as the admitting medical doctor As I depart you once more it’s going to not issue how a lot of times I have attempted even though it seems to be like a life-style to leave you since as I roll out the door I AM STILL LEAVING YOU

They knocked me off the ascension they pushed me off the elevator ramp as I rolled by the motherfuckers sitting in my wheelchair I screeched like a snowy wstrikee owl flying through the roof as both the satan a witch or a saint I am not positive to this day if I was saintly or not as I flew off the cross with rage yet yet another time on the uphill road to my independent victory and my independent action (IA) the WPA is still the work technique of my autonomy

anytime I tried to start you threw me out of the 3-ring circus again it was my only home other than the coffin I was homeless I had to pick early in between a jail or a coffin I selected the coffin under duress people were never my real choices You pushed on me another white straw hat and a matching striped jacket a whipped existence you explained I had gained Boy, they all informed me to at the very least neglect the straw hat because I told them I required the jacket

my own conscience was conversing I WALKED OUT AS THE FLY THEN an insect apparition my attendees said it was the damned coat I was wearing to take the nazi image off my chest once and for all as it is a branding iron

slipping on the ramp they had set out to trip me standing like an apparition by my vacant wheelchair I flew off the cross with a fluent rage it was a good come to experience as I tipped the sands of time in the hourglass for another hour to take an surplus breath I am alive not lifeless and strolling through the abandoned saloon doors into a caboveed wagon reality risk-free from the dry dusty sandstorm obscuring your venom like a rattlesnake shut my throat

Not a pyhrric victory this time close to The arid red saloon doors I photographed As a set up in Santa Fe were in the porno online video I once owned documenting my loss of life The swinging gate was not really a door once again you hit me as I entered the action another time and called it caring even making use of the term Enjoy I was never a slave You only owned the empty air between your violent hands The dirt in your pockets the lint on your PC screen was put there by me the present abused witch

I am the air I am the wind I fly like a missing Sabbath I am the air I am the wind I fly like Satan I fly like Jesus I fly like a Brahmin I fly like Buddha I fly like Mohammed I fly like a Sufi journey algeared up taken I am the air I am the wind the holy witch wind I fly like Hitler like Hitler’s daughter

I am a wind tunnel with leaves flying upward I ascend back down and up again through the righteous material of my own almost-destroyed coat by you it’s winter season and I need it it was a witch wind that blew my hat to me even so, to get away from you I will be Jesus again what a last choice it is to regain up on the crucifix again it seems to be a way of life to leave you I can’t get one thing accomplished because I AM ALWAYS LEAVING YOU

I am a minutiae, I am a militia, a cognizant road Not a spiritualist not a quietly spoken or even a very loud nun I am a black patch on a sailor’s eye hiding intent I steal the thefts you stole from me back for me to sustain myself I steal from you as you stole my cash I steal every thing I own from you with delight not fret but backup

Cigarette burns on my arms therapeutic through my large persistence level using a pain evaluate you took just lately It was not Jesus but ME it was ALWAYS ME residing through the burns standing with a immediately back a relaxed voice and a ready smile I was a quite girl with burns It wasn’t Jesus but ME He walked off the cross with me that day I retained his hand IT WAS ALWAYS ME who will ALWAYS LEAVE YOU I requires this to the Justice Courtroom of the Universe for what you have done to me these days

You negated my existence I could not walk out of the door ever with no you beside me all together through my deranged childhood I have had to resolve humanity’s complications through your problems Each and every time I had a friend, one friend for even one instant you criticized me for having a foundation of assist I am leaving you, the Nazi You appeared at me as if I were benefit A billion $$ bucks $$ – and I was I knew you’d get rid of me to keep me Even though I was tied up I came for free plus some To get out of there

The veils you have wrapped around my face are promontory mound scarves often revealing the concealed existence of digital cameras but I always knew the photographer for your porno he said that you are truthfully keeping my by now desecrated camera every time I thought of you I threw the veils down wrapped them wadded up the cheap polyester fabric into an unattractive rolled ball I spat on the veiled ball hurling the light into the encompassed replicate a disappearing symbol of an unmarked grave you pushed me up against that wailing wall I AM LEAVING YOU

I’m back in the coffin peering out from the brown dirt on my skin again listening for creaking seems around the lid My stolen home is my fulcrum point when was my body a temple like in the Bible just once? I’m slicing him off because I am not a Barbie Doll beauty without a brain He can look at what he previously stole not at me I am standing up in a rigorous box a black box a white boxed Rubik’s dice I was forced to solve in relocating cabs My neck hurts and I know I am in the cheap plywood coffin you purchased me One particular for a longer time I live in the everlasting darkness of the deep nicht arab evening I search for the waning light rising up like an ant on a minimalist journey I’m climbing off the ant farm through the silted sifted soil of Europe

I am back in the magma main again climbing up Mt. Vesuvius as a cockroach with a black ash streak mark on my brow from the occult I knew through sacrifice I was the ritual torture target becoming the victorious fowl dancer and a from time to time satanic interpreter Back again again hunting out of the hole My hole – it my complete tender respiratory living whole soul – My Soul (w)hole

I was living in a hatred home because you were living there until finally recently you were holding me hostage Your raging cold constant hatred of me my vagina my back and my front my whole breathing tune a typeer loving child now a vigilant female with a chilled reply and song repertoire I was a girl you never witnessed my have faith in Due to the fact nothing at all ever alterations I AM LEAVING YOU I was more than the small Nazi girl all along

You tried to generate me a pimp and absolutely everyone’s whore on the closed circuit TV with concealed internet and satellite spycams it was a visible virtual rape while I had to be both God and a prostitute to fulfill you the white man even though you never talked to me I had to steal my own thoughts from me while believing I was you, the pimp, not me at all I was negated and wearing your name as my identification always reporting my transgressions to you the white magic formula law enforcement while you manufactured me shell out illegally I cracked the hypnosis Da Vinci code

I thank God I do not know you any more I never did know you because you only forced me with brutality to say I knew you when I don’t publicly you said I am not a citizen and are not able to act then you said I am a slave or a servant-slave what the hell is that? a new group for my position as a woman? as I clean the mirror in our home I realize what you indicatet and toss the rag down even the paper towels I throw them on the ground putting my blue Windex spray area cleaner away permanently even though it is new and I walk away from our unmade bed

I will redefine the ceiling as I stand over you I will redefine the ceiling as the floor while I dance a spinning whirling dervish dance a gorgeous little girl’s wild dance on top of your head You will not know I am alive EVEN THOUGH I stand outside your dungeon with the keys You won’t hear from me in the potential because I am leaving you. SAYONARA I AM LEAVING YOU GOODBYE YOU MOTHERFUCKER I AM LEAVING YOU

I am back in the front back in the center of your crappy car sitting in the backseat not thankful at all why should I be grateful? Grateful for what? it was all improper and I knew it was all wrong Waiting around for the dryer cycle to total I meticulously independent your clothes from mine because they’ve leprosy and even worse specifically the undies

Placing them neatly in your dresser drawer the top drawer, sure I seize my unexpected emergency funds and I walk out the door Towards manna towards heaven toward mecca Toward Bethlehem Toward the closest hamburger place To plan my escape from MY home which these times is always your jail walking with abandon and confidence down the independence road I don’t conclude to brush my hair or trouble with lip gloss smiling in the mirror

it’s a woman thing it’s a coronary heart thing it’s in my vagina that you will never know it’s my holy space and you are going to never know it

I am the Pope now as I leave you you threw the rocks too hard at me the girl standing on the wall you were a man, not a boy and the rocks were your brutal fists your distressing raging slaps you existed for meanness you were a massive terrifying rigid form following to me ready to hit me again as I lay in your cold cold bed I left you early – for the duration of the during the encountering breaths I take I left you already! but you didn’t know or care because it was never my bed only yours

I had no room to breathe and I slipped out from between the sheets early one early morning as you slept a deep satisfied rest I looked carefully at your no-guilt icy face I never went back to caring as which is how you caught me caring for you lying in your bed trapped between your legs you are a mean man with truly mean hands AND for this cause I AM LEAVING YOU I AM LEAVING YOU I AM LEAVING YOU I AM LEAVING YOU GOODBYE YOU LOSER GOODBYE. ADIOS. LATER. SEE YOU NEVER. ANOTHER TIME FOR LOVE

You poured a loam fertilizer product on what’s now international soil in our backyard I bought it in Hechingers for a family members backyard garden You didn’t wish Placing me in the cheap coffin again you said I am going to be back I didn’t be reluctant even so and climbed out of the coffin buried under a foreign place I never knew as our home before without my identity intact as you stole it everyday through violence expressed toward me my skin and my occasionaly delicate woman’s soul even kid’s soul at times

You were the doctor in a white mask at the opening to the grave exhuming tilling the soil almost packed down over me supplying to free me from bondage through a conscript program as some variety of welfare draftee It is euthanasia you said Provider or nothing less than suicide introducing “You’ve a fixation on death” and you put me in the medical center again “one more time we are going to do this” you remarked casually as a frigid stranger once more negating my will nonetheless hanging terror in my heart and disgust that always prevails when I need you to come through for me in a crisis you simply never do I AM LEAVING YOU

You made me feel like a servant while you were in my body a maid in hypnosis that I am not with a leash around my neck hopelessly pursuing you into ignominy and eventual death against my will and not able to speak with silent screams I left with my spirit into acquainted terrain not as an insect again

It is the abstruse point of watch Nothing at all you gave me was yours to give I already own everything Incorporating my entire body I own my face and my expressions on my face you couldn’t give me anything let on your own take anything away this is not said by me it is said by Jesus I may sound wonderful but I am not nice relating to this for fucking me over just once I am leaving you

There is certainly no final voiceover No voice overlay It was your voice drowning me in my life Just my voice Just mine It is always my voice I speak with It is mine only It is finally my beautiful voice I hear And it always was Mine. It truly is all mine. My voice is me. I’m being it for the future for my dad for my unborn child perhaps never born because I lost my voice once or more than 2 times and because I want to still feel in God for my peace of head and simply for myself I am leaving you I have already left you yesterday for the ugly bruises on my beautiful body that I can still see and feel I don’t stay tied up for long I had to walk out of my body to leave you Here is goodbye. Adios.

The post I’m Leaving You appeared first on Beautiful Women.

source http://topbeautifulwomen.com/im-leaving-you/