#and the nurse was a man. I’ve never had a male nurse. he wore tight pants and had tattoos 😙🤌🏻

[karlyboyyy]

Went in for my annual wellness exam, walked out with:

Flu and Hep B vaccines

Sore arm from bloodwork draw

Pap smear that fuckin HURT my god

Chest x-ray because I mentioned having shortness of breath and coughing for a few months

A sleep study ordered

Five (5) new prescription medications 🙃 for migraines, trouble sleeping, pain, depression, acid reflux, and an underboob rash that’s flared up again lol

I am the pinnacle of health 💪🏻

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Three

{Warning: 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Fingering, Drugging, Mild Somnophilia, Non-con, Swearing, Choking, Mention of oral, Violence, Male Masturbation, Real Persons Mentioned}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you.

A/N: Okay though this started out as something to keep me occupied while I was without Wi-Fi for a week and never really planned on posting it, here at chapter three I would like to thank everyone who seems to like it and hope they get the same kick out of reading it as I’ve had writing it.  Having started out with an original female character, I have decided for those reading to remove the reader's name.  As such it’s now dark!Tony Stark x Reader and I figured it was about time I posted this chapter which was written months ago.  Hope you all enjoy it.

 Word count:- 2,490

Waking the next morning well rested, you started the day by emailing Sabrina the vague outline of your plan to escape Tony as well as how Sebastian might get involved should his infatuation prove stronger than you hoped.  Titled Operation Goldfish, you figured it was a handy enough codename to quickly slip into a compromised conversation.  Once satisfied, you then ordered breakfast before heading downstairs to rebook your room for five more days.  Getting off the elevator and walking towards the reception desk, you took a sharp turn back to the seating area when you saw Tony walking through the front doors.

'Fuck.' you thought, 'what was his problem.  Was his ego really so bruised, that he was determined to track you down?'  Looking around, you quickly picked up a paper off the table and hid behind it, while you waited to see what happened next.  Noting the time it was taking him to be dealt with, you instead seized the opportunity of his distraction to make it back to the elevators unseen, and quickly returned to your room.

Running through the suite, collecting all your belongings, you were just about to text Sabrina regarding the situation when you heard a beep and the sound of the door opening.  Heart pounding and cursing that you didn't feel comfortable having Sabrina retrieve your weapons as well, you slowly walked towards the bedroom door to be greeted by the sight of Tony Stark standing in your suite.

"Well Darling, have you any idea all the bother you've caused me.  Now I hope you're not planning on going anywhere after I gave clear instructions as to what was expected of you."

"How the fuck did you get in here and why are you doing this?  Is your ego really that fragile?" you asked, while quickly trying to assess how you were going to get out of this.

No sooner were the words out of your mouth however, when you found his hand around your throat as your body hit the jam of the door.  "You'll find being Tony Stark I can pretty much buy my way in anywhere.  Now listen to me very carefully, the money you're using to hide from me was earned in my employ.  That means Darling, that I own your pretty little ass."

Trying to hit him with one hand while using the other to pry his off your throat, he released you and you slumped to the floor, gasping for air as tears leaked from your eyes.  Glaring at him, your temper flared and you couldn't hold your tongue.  "So what, you think you're entitled to do whatever you want with anyone who works for you?  That is seriously fucked up and illegal on so many levels."

"Oh no, Y/N, not anyone." he purred, helping you up while forcing you to look at him as his fingers caressed your chin.  "Just you.  There's something about the way you think you're too good for me, that makes me want to see you kneeling naked before me while choking on my cock."

Disgusted at his words and brimming with fear and anger, your knee came up to connect with his family jewels as you reached your hand around the wall and pulling a floor lamp towards you, brought it down on him.  Though all this only stunned him, it gave you enough of an opening to hit him again, before reaching for your getaway bag and running from the room.

Not looking back to see if he was following you, you forgot the lift and started down the stairs as fast as you could.  Reaching the street, you made it two blocks before you felt a sharp prick in your neck.  Slowly slumping forward, you weren't conscious as iron arms wrapped around your chest and a booming voice told passersby that everything was under control.  Taking you to an Avengers controlled facility because of the publicity surrounding your episode, the next phase of his plan was to extricate you from those determined to keep you from him. 

                   *************

Having received the unexpected call from Tony Stark, it didn't take long for Sabrina to show up at the facility with Sebastian and two of his goons in tow.  Being greeted by a kindly nurse, they were allowed to see you for a few minutes before being ushered into one of the unused offices where Tony sat waiting.

Closing the door behind him, Sebastian had to hold his wife back as she lunged at Tony.  "What did you do to her, you sick fuck?  I swear, if anything happens to her the full might of the New York Mob will tear you and your costumed freaks to ribbons."

"Firecracker, calm down.  At least let the man explain."  Sebastian coaxed, quickly glancing at Tony.

"Fine." she said, sitting in the nearest vacant chair while keeping her eyes fixed on Tony, as Sebastian took the seat next to her.

"Well it's good to see you have some control over your woman, but I wonder Mr. Stan, does she actually speak for you."

"Mr. Stark, please don't interpret my love for my wife as a sign of weakness.  While she may not speak for me on Mob business, where Y/N is concerned we act as one."

"Fair enough.  I was on my way back from a routine rescue when F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted me to a pedestrian in distress.  I reached her before she could hit the ground and only discovered it was Miss Y/L/N when I saw her face.  I then brought her here and immediately called you, of course." he said, turning his gaze on Sabrina.

"And what exactly is wrong with her?  The nurse Charlie wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information." Sebastian stated, reaching out to take his wife's hand.

"That I'm afraid is a question I don't yet have the answer to.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. is running every conceivable test, but if nothing comes up, we may just have to accept it's something else and simply let it run its course."

"Something else?  As in stress related?" Sabrina snapped, glaring daggers at him.  "I wonder what could possibly have stressed her out that much?"

"Yes Mrs. Stan, I'll admit it, I didn't handle her rejection of me very well.  But I've since gotten over it.  Which is why I now intend to make sure she gets the best medical care my resources can provide."

"Mr. Stark," Sebastian interrupted.

"Tony, please." he stated, turning to face the mob boss once again.

"Tony.  Given the issues these past couple of days have thrown up between you and Y/N, surely you can understand our concern.  I don't think my wife and I are very comfortable with this arrangement."

"I totally understand your reservations, but as a Stark Industries employee she is also covered under the company's medical insurance, which means I can insist on the best possible treatment available anywhere.  I will of course be more than happy to keep you updated on her condition.  Now perhaps we can leave it there for today?  I have your number."

"Sebastian, we can't just leave her here with this arrogant douchebag.  This is exactly the opportunity he's been waiting for." Sabrina explained, locking eyes with her husband.

"Sabrina, sweetheart, his concern seems genuine and he should be made pay for her care.  She'll be okay."  Turning back to Tony, he looked him over once, before he spoke again, "Remember what my wife told you, Stark.  In the meantime, I'll expect regular updates." he stressed, rising from the chair and taking his wife's hand to lead her from the room.  Left alone with you incapitated down the hall, Tony couldn't hide the satisfaction he felt, knowing he finally had you in his grasp. 

Suspecting that your friends didn't believe a word he said, Tony walked down the hall to your room where he couldn't help but gaze on your sleeping form.  Though the sedative he'd hit you with should give him until tomorrow to get you moved to his secret location, part of him was disappointed that it had come to this.  He had hoped when you left his office you would do as he asked, but it seemed you weren't as meek as you pretended to be.  Still, he did love a challenge and he would enjoy breaking you.

Leaving you temporarily to deal with the paper trail and the nurse, he returned quickly and went about removing what medical equipment had been hooked up to lend some reality to the scene.  Next, pulling back the sheets, he frowned at the hideous workout gear you still wore but couldn't help himself as his hand made its way up the inside of your thigh.  Though he knew he wanted you awake for all he had planned, he told himself he simply wanted to see how effective the drug was at keeping you sedated.

Reaching your waist, he gently eased down your leggings before running his hand along your panty covered folds.  Moving his hand up and down a few times, he brought his fingers to his mouth and coated them in his saliva before shoving your panties aside to feel your flesh against his hand.  Slowly gliding up and down your folds, he moved up every now and then to circle your clit before he poked your entrance with a finger.  Moving it gently in and out, he was surprised by the small amount of moisture this single digit was producing.  Deciding to experiment further, he slipped in a second finger and was rewarded with a tightness that wasn't there the first time.  Pumping his digits harder and faster into your pussy, he marveled at how well the drug was working, while still allowing your body to slick up his fingers.

Hearing movement out in the hall, he quickly removed his fingers, replaced your clothes and licked your juices off his digits before pulling the sheets back up.  Bending down to softly kiss your lips, he pulled back before whispering "soon darling, you'll feel more than my fingers and you'll never be empty ever again."  Then when a dead quiet once again fell over the place, he released his armor, eased you out the window and gently flew you to the secluded spot where his car was waiting.  Placing you on the seat and securing your belt, he swept the hair back from your face before shedding his armor, getting behind the wheel and driving off to your new home.

                    *************

Pulling into the secluded, underground hideout, he thanked all the gods above that no one knew of its existence or its connection to him.  Housing a garage, living quarters and state of the art lab, he knew it would be the perfect place to hide you until you finally accepted him.  Taking you gently from the car and depositing you in your room, he still had things he needed to do before you woke up.

Removing your leggings and panties, he hurried to your bathroom to clean you up after his earlier exploration, before slipping into his room to retrieve a pair of boxers.  Left to him, you wouldn't need clothes any time soon, but he figured after the hotel you might not take too kindly to waking up naked.  As a compromise, the drug should afford him time to wash your lower garments and return them before you knew anything was amiss.

Heading to his room to shower, his mind wondered how you would react when you regained consciousness.  Oh he could easily have tied you to the bed already and after the hotel maybe he should, but where was the fun in that?  The contrast between the meek 'Mr. Stark' spouting you in his office and the fiery you that had evaded him and attacked him in the hotel suite excited him more than any woman had in years.  He couldn't wait to see which you would open your eyes or what it would take to tip you in either direction.

So consumed was he by you that it took him awhile to realize his hand had strayed to his throbbing erection.  Continuing to pump his hand up and down while thinking of your tight, warm and wet walls squeezing him like a vice, his mind wandered back to his fingers buried in your pussy and working himself harder he came with a groan, his cum coating his hand.  Looking down at his release, he quickly washed up, exited the shower and changed his clothes before making a bite to eat.

Once fed, he headed back to check on you, to find you just as he left you.  Though fairly certain about the timeframe of the sedative, he thought it best not to dally and headed off to his lab to set up a cover that would hopefully keep your mob friends off his back.

His first act was to wire money to associates in Europe to make it look like his private jet had landed with himself, you and the nurse Charlie aboard.  Next was the setting up of a false trail that currently had you under the care of the best doctors in Denmark, no way he figured would your meddlesome friends travel there.  Then he fished your phone out of your getaway bag, while marveling at the amount of cash you had stashed away.  He knew he paid his employees well, but the ingenuity of someone your age to even think of something like this both amazed him and made him wonder why you did it in the first place.  But that was a mystery which could wait.

Unlocking your phone, a pathetically simple task he noted, he quickly cloned the whole thing and then, placing it back with your cash and passport, hid the bag in the lab's secret safe.  Once done with that, his next task involved combing through every voicemail you had in order to synthesize your speech pattern should he have a need for it at some point.  He also contemplated freezing your accounts, but figured that might raise some red flags.  When all that was done, he then redirected his business calls, thus making the whole thing look legitimate before instructing his A.I. V.I.R.G.I.L. to shut down most of the building.

Satisfied that his efforts were enough, he returned to your room with your freshly washed clothes and redressed you before settling on the couch to spend some time watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest.  Knowing it would be a while before he got to see you this peaceful again, he savored every minute until his eyes started to close and so rising, he kissed your forehead before reluctantly returning to his own room.  Laying down, he drifted off to sleep, wondering what the days ahead held in store.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @malloryharris , @ironlady1993 , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , sorry if I missed anyone.

[starlocked01]

This Do I Swear, I Will Be There

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Logan had faith in his soulmate until an unfortunate accident blinded him. Content Warning: Unsympathetic Patton, Unsympathetic Janus, Physical Injury, Manipulation

Day 22 Logicality- When you close your eyes you can see through your soulmate’s eyes.

Small hands on a windowsill, pulling up and gazing out into the night sky. Focused on the brightest star in the Northern Cross, Deneb. Everything went black.

Logan smiled and opened his eyes, climbing on his bed to look out the window and find the same constellation and star. He and his soulmate would do this every night, a reminder that they were under the same sky, sharing the same star.

He didn't know much about his soulmate yet- until recently their vision had been blurry. Logan supposed getting his own glasses had prompted them to get their vision checked. He shut his eyes again.

Blackness, eyes fluttering open again, hands held up cupped together in the shape of a heart around their shared star, hands on the windowsill climbing down back under the covers decorated with tiny frogs, the ceiling, blackness.

Logan opened his eyes and climbed under his own covers, falling asleep quickly in the quiet night. ---- Sometimes it was easier to concentrate on his teachers' voices when he watched his soulmate’s classes. Logan never recognized the teachers or other students, and sometimes found his soulmate staring out the window instead of focusing. Perhaps this was his version of a window.

One time, Logan managed to catch his soulmate signing a test to hand in.

Patton Connelly . Standing and walking to the front of the class, nervous finger taps, drop the paper, and retreat. Lay head down on the desk. Blackness.  

Logan quickly opened his eyes and jotted his own name down on his notes.

Logan Crawford. :)

He added the smiley face, hoping Patton would like it. He certainly liked the name Patton. He closed his eyes.

Blackness, head lifting and pulling out a pen and post it. :3 Blackness

They had never written notes before. It felt like cheating to use words, but then again he wanted to know more about his soulmate. Logan opened his eyes and drew the symbols for male and female and a question mark. It wasn't cheating if they only drew pictures, right?

Patton drew the same symbols then circled the question mark

Well, that was, not straight-forward.

Logan drew a small heart around their initials L+P and closed his eyes for a response.

Patton's hands forming a heart before they lay their head back down on the desk.

Logan sighed and went back to taking notes. ---- Moving truck. The grass along the highway. A familiar road sign and a turn signal. A pad of paper and pencil.

I hate moving so much :< ---- Logan had watched Patton clean their glasses so many times, he knew exactly what the frames looked like. It always amused him that they matched his own.

He would have recognized those glasses anywhere, but he didn't expect them on the kid whose locker was next to his. Logan closed his eyes.

Books and a well-worn backpack, putrid neon green lockers.

"Patton," his voice came out a whisper.

Head turning. A boy with his eyes closed and mouth agape.

Logan opened his eyes again and smiled widely. Patton looked confused and closed their eyes for just a moment before reopening them with a happy grin.

"Logan!"

Logan took in every part of his soulmate that he could see, "it's good to finally meet you!"

Patton nodded with tears in their eyes before wrapping Logan in a hug and burying their face in his chest.

The pair were inseparable. They studied together in the library and went on dates around town. They found a hill away from the worst of the light pollution and would lay on a blanket just watching the stars together for hours talking about everything.

Logan listened as Patton told him about the pain of moving every few years to a new school and a new group of friends. Patton was sympathetic as Logan ranted about ecology and the damage being done to the Earth each day. They were there for each other, and when they weren't together physically they still had their summer star. ---- Logan didn't want to believe the moving truck in Patton's driveway was real. This was still their senior year, why now when they were so close to graduating?

Patton looked deep into Logan’s eyes, "I will find you again."

"I know it's just hard, Pat," Logan ran his fingers through their hair.

Patton smiled sadly and hugged him tight, "just close your eyes and remember this," they squeezed tighter.

Logan nodded and let the tears slip down his face. ---- Patton was too far away to make it back for Prom and Logan’s parents wouldn't let him go to theirs. But they still made a point to show Logan the dress they were going to wear.

Maybe Patton didn’t realize that Logan could see their date to the dance behind them in the mirror.

Logan didn't want his soulmate to be lonely but it stung to see the boy in a yellow and black tux dancing with Patton all night. His smiles at Patton pierced Logan, but he couldn’t look away. He was thankful when Patton pushed the boy away from trying to steal a kiss. Logan didn't want to share them like that.

Logan focused on his studies, excelling in college prep classes that earned him college credit. He was able to talk the university into allowing him to take a chemistry lab during his first semester.

Logan always wore safety glasses, but the explosion was strong enough that it didn't matter. He was rushed to the hospital but it was too late. Logan had been blinded.

He spent a week in recovery after surgery. Most of that time he spent watching Patton's life. Patton didn’t seem to notice until they tried to find their star and Logan didn't reply. Logan watched them panic, texting him. His phone had been a casualty of the lab accident.

Patton tried to see through Logan’s eyes several times throughout the week to no avail. Logan watched as Patton reached out to friends for comfort. He screamed, scaring a nurse when he saw Patton text that his soulmate must have died.

He wanted to tell them the truth. He wanted to find Patton and know things would be okay for the two of them. ---- Swirling white skirt and sleek white pant legs, what a beautiful combination of dress and tux, the smile on Patton's face for their big day.

Logan was still finishing his degree. It had taken the better part of a year to learn how to physically cope with blindness, and the next five years to work his way through his classes.

Patton was doing just great, apparently. Logan wished he could look away from the point of view of his soulmate walking down the aisle toward another man. Something inside Logan broke. This man had stolen his soulmate and he couldn't win them back. Patton looked happy. Logan didn't deserve to try and win them back for himself.

The voice in his head whispered but you're soulmates and he pushed it down. What did soulmates matter? Just because his heart was bleeding didn't mean he had the right to stop Patton's from continuing on. ~~~~ Finding Logan had been the happiest day of their life. Patton had known the moment they saw Logan that they were complements, meant to be together in life.

Moving before their senior year had been torture, but they quickly found friends to keep themself from feeling empty without Logan by their side.

Their heart was cracked when Logan couldn't come to their Prom. They heard Janus’ silvery voice reassure them that Logan would still want them to go and have fun, so they accepted when Janus asked them to go with him.

Patton never felt smart enough to keep up with Logan, but they were so happy for him when he got into an ivy league school.

Janus was there for them when their world went blank. Janus reassured them that Logan wouldn't purposefully keep them in the dark. There really was only one terrible terrible explanation.

Janus held their hands as they cried. He comforted them and told them Logan would have wanted them to be strong enough to live on without him. Janus said a lot of things. Patton started to agree.

Patton said yes when Janus proposed because it meant they wouldn't be alone. Logan wasn't there to object and Janus wanted them. At least they could pretend that being wanted was being loved.

They adopted a baby daughter together and once again Patton began to feel love in their heart.  She was brilliant and Janus let them name her Mercedes. Patton was so proud of their little girl. Their life was so happy now.

Patton didn’t even think to question Parent-Teacher Conferences. Mercedes was a good student, excited about math and science and she just couldn't wait for Dad and Noni to meet her science teacher Mr. Crawford.

Mr. Crawford looked up, startled when Patton and Janus wordlessly entered the room. Patton knew that face, even though it had been years since they'd seen it last. Janus and Mercedes didn't know anything was wrong. They feared what Logan would say in front of their family, how they would explain themselves.

"Well, shall we begin, Mx. Shepard?" Logan's voice was even, betraying no emotion.

"Actually it's still Connelly. I didn't take my husband's name," Patton's voice came out a whisper and Janus gave them a strange look at the word "still".

"My apologies, Mx. Connelly. My TA must have mistranscribed it into my computer. Now Mercedes is a wonderful student. She could almost be my daughter," Logan's face twitched in the barest hint of a smirk as his words cut Patton like a saw.

"Mr. Crawford is so cool! Nani, did you know he's blind??" Mercedes bounced in her seat with a huge grin.

"Blind?" Patton's voice faltered.

"Oh dear, if you don't mind me asking, since birth?" Janus sounded genuinely concerned.

"No actually, it was a lab accident my freshman year of college," Logan stated simply and heard a sob from Patton, "there's no need to get emotional about it. I've adapted to losing my sight. Mr. Shepard, your partner is quite empathetic. No wonder you two make such a great team raising Mercedes."

"Logan! Please stop!" Patton cried.

"Logan?" Janus looked confused but quickly put the name in its place and his face paled.

"I'm sorry, is something wrong, Mx. Connelly?" Logan's face was set hard.

"Janus, take Mercedes. I need to have a word alone with Mr. Crawford," Patton stood, squeezing Mercedes' hand before Janus led her out of the room, "blind? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you wait? Or find me, like you promised?" Logan could feel the anger boiling like acid in his stomach. It felt cold and caustic and unimaginably dangerous but he lived with it constantly beneath the surface. He had been waiting for this night from the moment he met Mercedes in his class, "the only things I can ever see are snapshots of your happy life without me, Patton."

"I didn't know," Patton looked as if they were seeing a ghost.

"Did you think I didn't notice Janus was there? Even before you thought I died. We shared our star each night and you shared your heart each day. We're done here," Logan snapped his laptop shut and crossed his arms. If he could see he'd be seeing red.

"But I love you, I thought you would want me to be happy."

"Are you happy? Then go be happy. What I want has never mattered to you because you don't love me. The boy you left behind is dead and you know nothing of the man I've become," Logan stood forcefully, "now, if you don't mind, I have other students."

"Logan let me try again, please," but their request fell on deaf ears. Patton sighed and left the room, glancing back at his soulmate one last time.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[duker42]

hi! May I make a request where levi and his s/o were arguing ( he thinks she's cheating ) and then he starts yelling and tells her to get out.  A while later he finds out that it was a misundersting and wants to apologise ,  however , he gets a call from the hospital saying that she was in a car accedint, and he feels so guilty and brokenhearted. Angst with a happy ending , please!

Tweaked it slightly. Hope you enjoy! 😁😁😁

💜Plans💜

“Then just tell me where you were!!!” Levi yelled out as he threw the teacup across the room. The shattered porcelain cup forgotten as he demanded answers from Y/N.

“I already told you that I just lost track of time! Why does it matter where I was?” She screamed back, angry at his attitude the moment she walked in the door.

“No one loses track of time and happen to shut their phone off, Y/N. I’m not fucking stupid. You were cheating on me, weren’t you? Who the fuck is it, Eren?”

She drew back and slapped him, his head whipping to the side as her palm connected with his cheek. Y/N looked stunned that she had hit him for a split second before her face hardened again in fury. “How fucking DARE you accuse me of cheating!”

“Get the fuck out.” His voice was low, deadly as he threw her a harsh scowl. Her handprint red on his pale skin, his eyes dark with violence. “Get OUT, Y/N!” He shouts the second time, pointing at the door.

Without another word Y/N marches to the door and flings it open. Slamming it so hard a picture fell off the wall, she stormed away from Levi’s house.

~~~~~

The ringing of his phone startled Levi out of meticulously scrubbing the walls where the tea had splashed. Working his fury over his cheating girlfriend out on the wall, he glared at the screen where the largest eyes of blonde eyebrows stared up at him with Erwin Smith splashed across the top.

“What do you want?” he barked into the device after hitting Talk.

“Hey Levi, sorry to bother you at home. I tried calling Y/N but she didn’t answer. Can you tell her that the 16th is a great weekend for me and I’ve already booked my ticket?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Levi asked, his tone confused. Why would his girlfriend be calling his boss/best friend. What ticket?

“Shit....I just blew it. Fuck..Nevermind I didn’t say a word.” Erwin nervously replied.

“I swear to God, Erwin, I will break your damn legs if you don’t tell me what is going on.” He threatened, irritated at being left in the dark. He got to his feet and stripped off the gloves and walked to the sink to wash his hands as he waited.

“Don’t tell Y/N I told you, okay? She’ll kill me. She’s planning a trip to that ski resort you’ve always wanted to go to for your birthday. She called me today while she was over at Hanji’s booking the lodge for everyone. PLEASE act surprised......” Erwin continued to apologize for ruining the surprise and begging Levi to not let Y/N know but Levi tuned him out.

She hadn’t been cheating, she had been planning a surprise trip for him with all their friends. And he just kicked her out after accusing her of cheating on him. No wonder she had slapped him. He deserved that and a kick to the nuts for being such an asshole.

“Erwin, I’ve got to go.” Levi interrupted his friend’s rambling and hung up. Quickly dialing Y/N’s number, he let it ring until her voicemail started. “Shit.” He murmured as he redialed her. “Come on, pick up damnit.”

“Hello?” A strange male voice answered Y/N’s phone.

“Who the hell is this?” Levi growled.

“This is Trooper Stanley of the Highway State Patrol. Are you a relative of Y/N L/N?” Levi’s heart dropped in with that statement.

“Yes.” He answered gripping the phone tight in his fist as his face lost what little color it had.

“Ms. L/N has been in a very serious accident. She has been transported by ambulance to Mercy General. Is it possible for you to meet her there?” The trooper asked.

“I’m on my way.” Grabbing his keys, Levi raced out the door his heart pounding at the thought that he may never get to apologize for his mistake.

~~~~~

He broke every moving violation on the books getting to Mercy. Running up to the nurses station, he demanded to know where Y/N was. He almost passed out when he was informed she was in surgery.

After being taken to the waiting room on the surgical floor, Levi paced the tiny room shoving his hands anxiously through his hair as he walked. The door opened and a tall man in a Trooper uniform walked over to him. “Are you the one I spoke with about Y/N?”

Nodding, Levi listened to the details of the accident. Y/N had been struck by a drunk driver who had crossed over into her lane. She had been pinned in the car until emergency services arrived. The driver had died at the scene.

He was numb as the trooper handed him a large plastic bag with her belongings they had pulled from her car. Her purse, keys and cell phone all seemingly staring at Levi accusingly. She wouldn’t have been there if he hadn’t told her to get out. It was his fault she was in surgery. The trooper handed him a card with the tow company that had taken her car away and left him to continue to wait.

When the doctor came into the waiting room and looked around, Levi sprang up from the seat he had collapsed in after the trooper had left. He listened with his heart in his throat. She would be fine. She had come through the surgery well and was resting in the ICU. He would be able to see her in about 10 minutes.

When he was finally directed to her bedside, she looked like she was sleeping, except for the wires running out of her body and the beeping of the monitors. Y/N had a large bandage over her left eye, where she had apparently slammed her head against the driver’s side glass.

Taking her hand gently, he sat down wearily beside her and watched her breath. His eyes watered at the idea that he could be identifying her body, she could have been lost to him. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her hand gently. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he whispered into the room.

The moment she stirred, he sat up straight in the chair. She moved restlessly and groaned before opening her eyes. As the cloudy fog of the sedative wore off, she started looking around the unfamiliar room with a hint of panic before stopping Levi.

Her eyes turned wary as she remembered how they had left things. She tried to pull her hand out of his, but he tightened his hold on her lightly. “It’s okay, Y/N. You’re in the hospital, after a car wreck. I’m so sorry.....It’s all my fault.” His piercing grey eyes begged her for forgiveness.

“Still think I’m cheating?” She croaked out, her throat dry from surgery.

“No, I’m a dumb asshole. Erwin spilled about the trip by accident. I’m sorry Y/N. I never want to fight like that with you again. Slap me again if I try.” He felt relieved when she gave him a small smile.

“Okay, I can do that.” Y/N grimaced as she started feeling the pain from the accident. “This turned out so different than how I planned my night going.”

Mobile MasterList

[autumnfanfiction]

9.

"Hello, Angel. I know you're confused but I'm Chris' mother."

Her confusion immediately turned to shock but excitement because she finally got a chance to meet the woman that gave birth to her man. She smiled and allowed her to come in before they embraced each other in a hug. Maybe it ran in the family because just like Chris, his mother was giving her one of the best hugs. Joyce rocked Robyn back and forth careful not to squeeze her too tight because Chris did make her aware of the pain she was experiencing because of her cancer. She couldn't wait to meet the woman that had her son swoon that she decided to make an early trip and make it a surprise visit for both of them.

"It's great to finally meet the woman Chris is thinking about settling down with," Joyce paused. "Don't tell him I told you if he hasn't made that known, but he's my son so I know he's said something because that boy can't hold water." Robyn laughed agreeing. "I've been trying to get him to do that for a couple years now, but I see why he waited so long. God had plans. You can call me Mama or Mama J if you're not too comfortable with calling me that just yet."

Robyn smiled and felt herself about to cry. She never had the privilege of meeting her Mother in person, but with stories, and photographs from her Gran Gran she knew her Mother was a good woman. That she was loved before she was born and her Mother took extra precautions to make sure she was healthy and would be a happy baby. As she grew older she missed out on parental love, even though her Gran made up for it, she still yearned to feel what it would be like to have both parents in the household. Now she was here with Chris' mother, and she was already being given the right to call her Mama. It just made her feel so emotional to finally have something else she'd been deprived of.

Joyce felt her emotions shift, so she began to rub her back. "You okay, Angel?"

"I'm fine... Mama," she paused then smiled. That felt good. Really good. "It's just I went 25 years without my Mummy because she died after giving birth to me. So to finally have one is making me emotional, that's all. I'm really happy."

Joyce smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Well, I would love to be the Mama you never had and always wanted. I'll try my best to fill those shoes because I can never replace your original Mama. The pleasure is all mine, besides everything Chris has told me, it would be an honor to have a daughter like you."

"Thank you, Mama."

-

During her stay, they talked about everything, truly connecting and establishing a Mother/Daughter bond. It didn't take much because both of the women were comfortable in each other's presence. Robyn felt like a little girl than a young woman but she didn't mind nor did she care because she deserved to have the luxury of experiencing all the things girls and women did with their Mothers. She eagerly listened to Joyce talk about how it was raising a young Christopher and even had a photo album she brought with her to show Robyn. In turn, Joyce was interested in hearing Robyn speak about her childhood and upbringing, her Gran Gran Dolly being a huge part of that. She spoke about how life was for her in Barbados to transitioning to the United States and to where she was now.

Joyce had no doubts that Robyn was the one for her son and after what seemed like hours of them talking she knew why he was so fond of her because she felt the same way.

"Angel, do you think Chris is a true love for you?"

She sat and thought for a moment before smiling. "Absolutely. I have so much of him in my heart. He's an amazing person with a fantastic heart. He's giving and loving. You can't find intimacy, you can't find a home, to me, it blossoms. I tried running away from it, but he's it for me. We have this deep connection and I know I won't find that anywhere else."

Joyce smiled at who she knew would become her daughter-in-law. She was about to say something else before the door opened and the apparent disdain in Robyn's face told her she didn't want to see the figure standing there.

"Robyn..."

She felt a wave of emotions and the lasting one that had the most effect: hurt. What was he doing here? Why after all this time did he decide to come see her? She was the happiest she's ever been, and now he decided it was time to come disturb the peace she was feeling. Several months ago she didn't know what peace was or how she could obtain it. He was at the center of why she couldn't grasp it, and soon she became the epicenter that. Although she didn't allow him to make her see herself less in a physical sense, his abrupt departure shook her in an emotional sense, partly mentally. She was a wreck for months and now that she had it together here he was.

"Emery, what are you doing here?" She asked calmly

He didn't deserve her anger, her sadness, or her disappointment. He wasn't worth any of her emotions so she would keep her composure and deal with him accordingly.

"I," the man paused and looked at her. "I came to see you. See how you've been holding up. See–––"

"If I was alive?"

"No, Robyn–––"

"Why do you care? You made it clear how you felt about me when you left me all alone to fend for myself! You knew what state of mind I was in and when I needed somebody the most you weren't there. So now you decide it's time to come see me? Now when I finally have everything together, when I'm genuinely happy? I don't want to see you, and I don't want you here. You mean nothing to me. I found a man that loves me, respects me, and unlike you, he'll never leave me. So please, do me a favor and leave. I don't want you here."

She still couldn't believe he was here even after the initial shock wore off. She was trying hard to keep it together and not allow him to see her cry because the reminder of not being loved during the worst period of her life was still there. He opened up those wounds that Chris healed, still healing, and now they were fresh again, gnawing at her, tugging at her heartstrings slowly trying to make her come undone.

"Robyn, please––"

"GET OUT."

Joyce saw she was becoming uncomfortable, so she decided to intervene before things went any further than they needed to. "Young man, she wants you to leave. Show yourself to the door."

"Old lady mind your business. This doesn't concern you."

Joyce cocked her head back before pushing her chair back standing up. "See, Lord he's testing me. Child listen here–––"

"Mama, what's going on? Why is Robyn crying?"

Chris came into view with food in his hands confused but ready to strike if any harm had been done to his Mother and his girlfriend. He made his way in not even noticing the other male figure standing there. He placed the food down before going to tend to his girlfriend who seemed beside herself.

"Buttercup, what's wrong?" After Chris talked to Dolly, he went out for a while because he had some things he needed to take care of. He just had this feeling he couldn't shake, so he acted on his instincts. While he was out he went to get some breakfast because hospital food wasn't all that good, even if he and Robyn did get special treatment. He expected to eat breakfast and watch a movie with his girlfriend, so imagine his surprise when he saw his Mother there upset, and a distraught Robyn. Unbeknownst to him, the reason being in the room.

"Get him out of here Chris, please. Make him leave." She whispered. He knitted his eyebrows together and turned his attention to who his Mother was grilling.

"Yo, she wants you to leave, why you still here?"

"I ain't going nowhere until we talk. I have some things I want to say to her."

"Well, she don't wanna talk to you right now or ever. But I'm Christopher her boyfriend and future husband so any message you want to relay to her can be said to me. We can take this outside."

The man scoffed. "Boyfriend? Future husband?" He laughed loudly. "Robyn knows she can't do better than me. Besides, since you're in the hospital with her, you're probably just as sick as her. Ain't no future for you two."

Joyce gasped. "The Devil is working."

Chris clenched his jaw and let Robyn go before approaching the man at the door. He was about an inch taller than Chris and was more muscular than him too. But it didn't matter to him. Chris wasted no time throwing a punch hitting the man square in the nose. He staggered and was injured immediately, but that didn't stop him from charging at Chris. He threw a punch at Chris, but missed, and caught a blow to the jaw.

"GET HIM CHRIS. BEAT. HIS. ASS."

Chris was in a daze, adrenaline rushing through his veins. The comment about him and Robyn having no future pissed him off and stung. How dare a complete stranger to him and ex of Robyn fix his mouth to say such things knowing it would rub Robyn the wrong way? Chris couldn't let him go unharmed and untouched and thinking about it made him angrier. He was preparing to strike again, when he was caught off guard, getting hit in the ribs. The hit hurt more than it was supposed to with him already having those pains due to his illness. It took him longer to recuperate and when the man noticed he tried striking him there again, that is until Robyn jumped on his back.

"You not gonna hurt my baby!"

Robyn had him in a chokehold, and soon doctors and nurses came in when they were made aware of a disturbance. Robyn got off him, and they escorted the man out.

"Robyn, Chris are you guys okay?" Their Doctor Samuel asked clearly concerned

"He hit Chris in the ribs so I jumped on him before he could do any more damage to them." Robyn explained

The doctor nodded and moved Chris to the bed so he could examine how bad it was. While he was getting checked Robyn and Joyce spoke with staff to inform them of the events that took place, and they were promised he would never enter the hospital again. Joyce stayed up until Chris was done with his examination and bid them farewell before leaving to stay at Chris' penthouse like she normally did when she was in town.

Robyn sat near the bedside and held Chris' hand before kissing it. "How much pain are you in?"

"I'll be fine. Nothing out of place, just bruised. I just have to be more careful, how are you feeling though?"

"Chris don't worry about me, you're the one that got hit."

"Yeah, but what he said. I know––"

Robyn held her hand up. "I'm over thinking that way. He said it out of spite, and I will not give him the satisfaction of being upset over his comment. We had a conversation about that, right? No more negative thinking. Seeing him brought back feelings I buried but I feel better now after I said my peace. I said what I wanted to say to him for months. I got my closure so now it's time to focus on the future, and that's you."

Chris smiled then raised his hand, and Robyn gave him a high five. "Those were some good punches, Reeses. Had him looking like death with all that blood."

"But the way you jumped in though, choked the life out of him. You had your own little gang back in Barbados, huh? My Baby Girl gangsta. What was it called, the coconut gang?"

She laughed hard. "The coconut gang? Really?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to figure it out. What was your weapon of choice? A blade? I know you keep one under your tongue. Wanna be like 2Pac so bad, you see him do it in a movie and think you can do it too. You swear you Thug Life."

Robyn rolled her eyes with a big smile on her face. "You're annoying, ok?"

He laughed. "No, but thank you Buttercup. I appreciate you jumping in. It's obvious you do have my back like the Gmail security team has my back."

Robyn laughed and slapped his hand. "Chris, I can't take you seriously."

"Okay, seriously. You know I would've taken those hits for you any day."

"I know, but just like you protect me, I'll do the same. I don't want to see you hurt just as much as you don't want to see that for me."

They kissed, and it was a soft one. Every day brought them closer together, and they had no problem embarking on this journey as long as it was with each other.

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Beaver

AN: I’ve been working on a sequel to a fic I posted many moons ago, and as it goes my mind wandered and this came out instead of sequel progress! Hope you ... well, I’m looking forward to your reactions! Recognition: @canonspngifs is where I found this gif.        @wi-deangirl77 read this one over and helped me pick a gif, then encouraged me to publish ASAP! Word Count: 1390 Warnings: No warnings, just a good ol’ flangst.

Dean had heard YN make plenty of sounds. But this noise was sure to stay with him the rest of his life. A scream ripped through her, turning into a growl, ending in a gurgled grunt. The sweat dropped off her brow, her eyes were locked on his, her face and neck were burning red. He’d never felt more helpless.

Sam listened as the scream ripped through YN again, he shivered and bit at his lip, drawing blood. He wished it was him in that pain, that it was Dean in that pain... anything. But there was nothing he could do.

Dean held her hand, supported her neck, and helped pull at her knee. Monsters, Demon, Angels, Lucifer himself ... Dean could handle them all. But this was something else, and it was all on YN.

“Puuuush, push-push-push! The heads out! That’s the way, YNN, now on the next wave you’ve gotta give it even harder.” The midwife said from between the stirrups. “D- Dean, get your kid outta me.” Dean didn’t know if she was serious or joking, but he knew she was tired, exhausted and ready to meet their kid and collapse. He had no clue how she was even still talking, she’d been awake for twenty eight hours.

She let rip an ungodly scream, enough to curdle even a hell hounds blood. She pulled her knees almost completely under her armpits and her face turned crimson, veins popping in her neck and forehead. “That’s it! Almost here! You’re doing so good!” The midwife was cheering.

“You’ve got a son.” The obstetrician announced, bundling the brand new screaming baby up onto YN’s chest. “You did it Mama, look at you.” Dean breathed, peppering her with kisses; her lips, cheek, temple, and into her sweat drenched hair. “You’re so precious, our little bean.” YN cooed, wiping her finger over the now settled babies chubby cheek. “We did it, Dean.” She whispered cheerily, looking up into his eyes and smiling when he kissed her again. “It was all you babe, I stood here and cried. You were so strong and brave. You did it babe.” Dean kissed her again before both of them turned back to their baby, “You’ve got one helluva a Mama, kid.” He hushed, pressing his lips gently to his son’s head.

Sam heard YN’s cry dissipate, replaced by screams from a baby. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, feeling relief wash through him. He stopped crushing his phone and dialed in a number, holding the phone to his ear. “She’s done it, the babies screaming!” He announced into the receiver. “Oh that’s great! That’s such great news, Sammy!” Mary said, her voice wavering, “What did we have? Boy or girl?” She added excitedly, almost as an after thought. “I don’t- I’m not- I haven’t seen them. I don’t know yet!” Sam managed to get out, realizing his error of calling with news before actually having news.

“I’ve got an eager uncle out here, can he come in?” A nurse said quietly, peering around the curtain covering the door. “Of course, oh my goodness, send him in!”

“Sammy!” Dean greeted happily, pulling his brother into a tight hug as soon as he’d appeared around the curtain. “Congratulations... Dad!” Sam teased, clapping Dean’s back, “How’re you doing, Mom?” He asked YN over Dean’s shoulder. And at the mention of her, Dean instantly let his brother go and stood back, encouraging him towards the bed. “You’ve got a nephew, Sam.” YN informed, offering the bundled baby up for the younger Winchester to hold, Dean quickly coming to oversee. “Hello...” Sam was delicate with the baby, his giant hands engulfing him. “What’s his-“ “This is Charlie,” YN whispered, adjusting the blanket around his chin. “Hello Charlie, I’m your Uncle Sam.” He cooed, rocking slowly side to side. “Uncle Sammy.” YN teased, looking over the tall man’s shoulder to his grinning brother. When Charlie started to fuss, Dean swooped in and took his son in one arm. “He’s got his Momma’s hair,” Sam noticed, watching as Dean let his brilliantly red headed son suck at his pinky finger. “And how’re you?” Sam asked, turning his attention to YN. “Sore, tired, sore, over the moon!” She beamed, not able to take her eyes off her baby. “I bet you wanna sleep for days? I’ll leave you to it, go and call everyone, let them know you two are alright!” Sam explained. He embraced YN in a gentle hug and kissed her temple, as he passed Dean he couldn’t help but stare at Charlie before sighing and leaving with a wave.

“I don’t think I could be any happier. He’s perfect YNN, and you’re perfect and strong and beautiful...” Dean looked up when there was no objection or interruption. She was propped up on the hospital pillows, head tilted towards Dean, eyebrows raised as if she was listening. When a faint snore rumbled in her chest he knew she was out to the world. Charlie gurgled, his fingers squeezing Dean’s, green eyes wide and staring at his father. “Just you and me kid.” Dean whispered, bouncing Charlie.

—

“Mooom,” Charlie hushed into the dark room, he put his hands on the side of the bed and leaned in, “Mooom.” He tried again. “Red?” YN whispered, lifting the sheets on the bed. “I think I heard something in my closet.” He explained but didn’t climb into the bed. Instead, YN swung her legs out, scooped him up and stood in one fluid motion. “In the closet, hey?” She asked, padding out of the room and down the hall to his. “Yeah, something knocked and then they talked, and then I came in to you.” He explained, picking at the frayed seam of the flannel she wore to bed. “Okay Red,” She said, clapping against his bottom twice as they rounded the corner into his room. She jumped him further up her hip and reached for the handle of the closet, “You ready?” She asked, looking to her son as he nodded, eyes fixed on the door.

“Come out, come out, whatever you are, or be prepared to hear a SHOUT!” Charlie sang with his Mom, almost toppling out of her arms as he bounced forward when she reefed back the door. A hard, round, plastic dial tumbled out, flashing different lights before landing on a picture of a cow, ‘the cow goes moo’. “That’s all it is!” YN said, toeing the toy. “The Moo Quack man.” Charlie nodded, shuffling to get down from his position on YN’s hip. “Bed, mister.” She brushed fingers through his hair when he bent down to pick up the toy. “Moo, quack, baa,” Charlie sang as he put the educational toy back on a shelf in the closet and ran back to his bed, leaping into it. “Do you want the sing song?” YN asked, looking down at her son who was already pulling the blankets up to his chin. “Yes,” He said, stopping his burrowing when he sensed his Mom staring, “Yes, please mom.” He corrected. YN turned on the dome that slowly rotated, splaying a galaxy of lights against the walls and ceiling while playing a soft lullaby. “Goodnight sweet pea.” YN said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She noticed his plush beaver lying on the floor, picking it up, she tucked it into the bed next to him. “Night,” Charlie hummed. She stopped in the doorway and watched as her son peppered kisses to his toy before closing his eyes. She closed the door a fraction, but couldn’t help watching the three year old. Aside from the mop of her red hair, her son was so like his father, so unafraid but in need of reassurance, so- “I know you’re there, Mommy.” He said, eyes still shut; just like Dean. “Goodnight, cheeky.” She called, closing the door.

“Everything okay?” The tired male voice asked as YN entered her room. “That animal-sounds toy fell off the shelf in his closet. He’s fine now, got Beaver.” She said, climbing into bed next to the warm, hard body. She pulled the covers up and bunched the pillow under her head, stopping when the bed creaked and he moved around behind her, patting at her hip. “Why a beaver? Of all the plush animals,” he wondered allowed. “Cause Dean thought it was funny.” She explained, ignoring the hand at her hip as it slowly retracted and the bed dipped further as Sam rolled away from her.

Reblog and let me know what you thought, what are your emotions doing now?!

Tagging: (as my documents are playing nice atm - I’m tagging off the top of my head, please share if I’ve missed anyone) @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @butiaintgonnaloveem @kayteonline @waywardjoy @jalove-wecallhimdean @sdavid09 @mandilion76 @manawhaat @ohmychuckitssamanddean @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @percywinchester27 @notnaturalanahi @grace-for-sale @whispersandwhiskerburn @bringmesomepie56 @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @luci-in-trenchcoats @mrs-squirrel-chester @charliebradbury1104 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @ackleholic96 @reigningqueenofwords @letsgetoutalive

[hazeofhearts]

Modern!Billy Hargrove Headcanons

(Ok!! So this idea came to me and idk how many of these there are on here but I it doesn’t matter because this is gonna be great!)

(EDIT 2/15/18: I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR LITERALLY TWO MONTHS I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS!!!)

So we all know that Billy likes looking pretty for his ladies based on how long he probably took to do himself up for his date in episode 8.

So we KNOW that the modern boy would be ALL👏🏻ABOUT👏🏻SKINCARE👏🏻

He does face masks like twice a week. One for stress relief and another of random choice from his collection of free samples

When he goes into the store, he pretends to be shopping for you but really it’s for him so he can get the samples

You have ‘girls’ night in and wear your masks and you paint your nails and Billy wears fluffy socks after he puts lotion on his feet because he’s an ‘old man’.

Modern Billy would hate smoking. Hate it with a fucking passion. Lemme explain myself ok?

In the 80s, people were smoking because that was the thing to do. You just did. So everyone smoked.

But now that we know all we know about how bad it is for your skin and lungs and your general health (no shade to anyone that does smoke, it’s your choice but you have to know the dangers and you probably do)

So Billy would smoke for a couple years and then when he got together with you, he stopped because you wouldn’t kiss him if he tasted like cigarettes

To keep Billy from smoking, you replaced his cigarettes with lollipops

Like those Dum Dum lollipops. The ones you can buy in a bag of 100 or something.

You’d put them in his car in place of his cigarette cartridge, on his bedside table, on his desk, in the pockets of all of his jackets

He was never without a lollipop in his mouth

Your favourites on him were bubblegum and blue raspberry

His favourites were cherry and lemon lime

Billy is all about protection and consent in every way possible!!!!

He wants you to feel like you’re safe with him and that you can be assured that you’re not going to get pregnant

So before the two of you even get naked, you’ve talked about condoms and birth control and all that jazz

Depending on if you’re already on birth control for menstruational reasons, this part of the conversation is easy

Condoms are another thing

Billy tries to pull that ‘condoms make me uncomfortable’ shit and you’re not having it

‘Either you wear a condom or you’re not getting ass at all’

Billy wears a condom from then on

He totally buys the funny ones to make you laugh

Like he once bought a neon coloured box of them and you nearly pissed yourself laughing you couldn’t even have sex

The first time you had sex, Billy was nervous as all hell because he knew that you felt your body was a temple and if he disrespected you, he’d be out on the curb

So he went super slow, asking if everything he did was okay

‘Can I go down on you?’

‘I’m just gonna open your legs like this, is that okay?��

You’re like ‘just fuck me already’

Modern Billy still loves his cars

He works on them all the time

He’s one of those guys that finds really shitty cars on the side of the road that have been abandoned or in junk yards and is like ‘yep new baby’

You just love walking into wherever he’s set up shop to see him without a shirt, jeans still as tight as ever, grease stains in the dirtiest places

Like there’s on right in the center of his crotch and he’d bring them to you and be like ‘oh how did that get there???????’

“Baby come kiss me”

“No you’re dirty”

“That’s never stopped you before”

Billy surprising you at work all the time

He starts recording himself going to your work every couple days to bring you coffee or lunch or anything

“Excuse me?”

*gasps because he scared you*

“I brought you your lunch”

He hands you a bag of your favourite food and you immediately break for lunch because you missed your man and you want to spend time with him

You totally live together if that wasn’t obvious by now

Your apartment clashes because Billy is an alpha male who doesn’t pick up anything and just slings stuff wherever there’s an empty space

You however can’t stand when he does that

You’ve managed to get him to replace the toilet paper roll when he finishes one, put the toilet seat and lid down and take off his shoes before walking on the carpet

He still doesn’t put his jacket on the hook by the door but that doesn’t matter because if you’re both coming from somewhere, the entryway is going to be littered with clothes anyway ;)

Which brings me back to sex ofc

So

Sex happens everywhere

On the floor, on the couch, in the shower

Floor sex happens when you come back from a night out on the town and too many guys were looking at you the wrong way

Couch sex happens the day after the night out when you’re both nursing hangovers and all you want to do is spoon so you do but you also fuck

Shower sex is one of those things where it happens rarely and only if you’re both 100% in the mood like if you’re not, not happening

You have sex on the counter and it’s rough and hard and fast and sexy and you can’t get enough and you just want him more and more and more

Sex in an abandoned parking lot at two in the morning in Billy’s car where the windows fog up and you rock the car on its wheels until the sun comes up

Sex in your bed is by far the best though, of course

I mean, you’re both comfortable, you’re both completely naked, you can fall asleep together right afterwards

Bed sex is slow and sensual

Billy thrusts into you slowly and sucks on your neck

He runs his hands all over your body and through your hair

He lifts both of your legs up over his shoulders and now you’re in missionary

Billy presses you to his chest while he fucks you like this, your nails digging into his back

Not painful, but on the edge of too much pleasure

After sex time

YOU👏🏻ARE👏🏻THE👏🏻THE👏🏻BIG👏🏻SPOON👏🏻BC👏🏻MODERN👏🏻BILLY👏🏻IS👏🏻A👏🏻SOFT👏🏻BOY👏🏻

Road trips all the time!!!

You’re both so young and you’re already living together

You need some time to grow but who says that you can’t grow together?

Literally no one

So you drop everything for the weekend and go to the beach, rent a beach house but usually just camp out of the trunk of your car

(You convinced Billy that sex is better in the hatchback of your car than in the backseat of his for the trip. This is almost a daily argument that you guys have and it always ends up in test runs in both cars ;) )

You cook burgers and hot dogs on the mini grill you brought and wrap yourselves up in a giant ass blanket and look at the stars

Talk about the future with each other

Plan your lives together

Modern Billy being in love with the idea of having kids and raising them

He had a shitty childhood and being a teenager sucked ass

(In my AU, instead of projecting out onto others as much as he does, Billy also grows from his abusing father and has a solid relationship with Max after he moves away from his family)

So Billy would be in a constant wave of baby fever

He’d stop moms on the street and coo at their babies

He’d love to go to parks with you and just stare at the kids

Thinking of babies made him think of marriage

Which leads me to....

Billy is not rich by any means

He essentially ran away from home as soon as he was a legal adult and had his high school diploma

He had been secretly packing his stuff up for months and storing it at friends houses and in the backyard of his house

He met you and moved into your apartment with you when you both decided things were going to be serious

So

When he decided he wanted to marry you, he knew he loved you

He had spent his whole life in a rocky home

His father was never around and when he was, his parents fought so hard the pictures rattled off the nails and onto the floor

So if he wanted to marry you, it meant that he trusted you and believed there would be a future with you

He spent weeks hovering around ring stores, looking and looking but never finding the right one

He became frantic, sure that if he didn’t propose soon, he would lose you

He wouldn’t but he didn’t want to be right in his doubt

So after a romantic dinner and even better dessert (ifyaknowwhatimsayin’) you’re slightly disappointed because it was the perfect set up for a proposal

Like Billy splurged on you for dinner

You wore your new red dress

You rolled over and were half way asleep when Billy prodded his elbow into your back

Now you were irritated

You turned sharply to snap at him when you saw the look in his eyes

You’re left speechless

His eyes are so soft, this beautiful sky blue

His bottom lip is between his teeth and he has his arm out for you to roll into his chest

But first he says those words 

“Will you marry me?”

You immediately burst into tears

Billy panicks

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Just forget it!!”

You smack him and say of course you’ll marry him, stupid!

You fall asleep after you calm down and Billy just has the biggest smile on his face

Out of everyone on the planet, he managed to find you

[kitsumiekat]

For Kingdom, For Her - Liam x OC, Maxwell x MC (TRR Fanfic) (9/?)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x OC (Kina)

Rating: NSFW

Summary:  In the aftermath of the attack, the Unity Tour starts off at Fydelia. But Madeleine still nurses a deep grudge not only to the royal family, but to the new Duchess Riley, and point blank refuses to step in to help. Help comes in a different form… and one that absolutely distracts Liam in ways he never expected.

A/N: That ending to TRR was perfect! And... ah, gives me so many ideas for the ending of Kina and Liam. <3

The whole way back, Kina couldn't help but keep an eye on Liam. Gone was the warm, laughing prince who had made slow, sweet love to her the night before. In place was a worried looking man who stood by the window as the rest of their friends sat silently in their carriage. 

To make matters worse, because Kina did not want to push matters between them, she could not even go up to him to offer any words of comfort.

It was not until the gang had seen Constantine in the hospital, did Liam's shoulders relax when the previous King insisted on attending the Costume Gala. The whole time the monarchs and Liam conversed, Kina did her best to inch her way behind Drake, fully aware of Regina’s careful stare on her, especially after the events of the night before.

"Surprise! It's your favorite press secretary!" A sudden voice interrupted, as the door swung open.

"Justin! You're alive!" Riley exclaimed.

"From what I've seen in the news, you've been in good hands." 

To Kina's surprise, the dashing bespectacled male she now knew to be her predecessor to Riley walked up to her, caught her fingers before she could protest, and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. She froze, her gaze instinctively darting to Liam's face. His features were chiseled hard, eyes zeroing in on the lips that lingered on the back of her hand.

Quickly, Kina retracted her hand and offered a small smile when Justin grinned at her. Almost immediately, a sharp voice cut through, breaking the male's eye contact with her to focus on the speaker.

"I heard you were injured in the attack. You're looking well, though." Liam asked in a congenial tone. Yet when Kina looked at him, she sensed a tightness in his voice as he spoke.

"Yeah, I took a nasty shot at the Homecoming Ball, but I'm not kicking the bucket just yet. If you can breathe, you can stand, and if you can stand, you can you can fight." 

Kina blinked, slightly taken aback by how bright and preppy Justin was. 

Watching as he continued speaking, the girl leaned towards Maxwell, whispering "Is he always this bright and early?"

Maxwell chuckled and nodded. "He did great as Riley's press secretary. Although, you're doing just as well."

As Justin and Constantine dissolved into conversation about being discharged, Kina's eyes were quick to spot Regina and Riley speaking with Liam, and the girl frowned when the conversation ended with a distressed looking Liam, as everyone else filed out. Unable to put herself away again, she lingered in the empty room as everyone left, reaching out to take Liam's hands."Is everything alright?"

"The doctor says he doesn't have much time left." 

Her heart broke at the hollowed tone he used, and she tightened her hold, feeling helpless as he returned her grip with a tight one of his own. What could she do? It was not as if she could stop death as it knocked on Liam's father's door, as much as she wanted to.

"I-"

"I promise you - we'll find some time to tell them, alright? Just... not yet."

Kina scowled and used her free hand to swat at him. He yelped and rubbed at the upper arm with a perplexed look. "What was that for?"

"For being a git. Do you think I would force you to say anything you don't want to?"

Obviously realizing he had managed to irritate her, Liam's eyes widened, and he hurriedly yanked her closer, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it that way. I just feel bad because there are too many things, and that means we can't-"

"You have more important things, Liam. 'We' can wait." she murmured, using her fingers to push at his forehead with a soft laugh. "Now let's go. We need to get back to the capital in time for the ball."

---

Dressed in a simple black dress, Kina descended the main stairwell of the palace, clipboard in hand. Her mind raced with the many things she had to arrange in place during and after the costume ball for Riley and Maxwell, that she barely noticed and ran into a hard chest. With a small yelp, Kina stumbled backward, almost falling had a strong arm not quickly caught her by the waist.

Having squeezed her eyes closed to prepare for impact, she opened them, her mouth in a small 'O' when Liam's smiling face met her surprised gaze. He chuckled as he helped her up, and then frowned when his eyes took in the rest of her outfit.

"What?" Kina asked, unable to help the slightly defensive tone in her tone as she straightened her black, form-fitting dress. It fit her purpose - she had no wish to stand out.

But Liam obviously had issues with it.

For the first time, however, her eyes took in the regal, red outfit he wore, and she couldn't help the way her heart leaped into her throat. The stark difference in their rank slapped her in her face. Liam could almost see Kina clamming up in the way she straightened up, holding her clipboard all prim and proper like in front of her. He frowned, disliking all of her actions.

"What... are you wearing?"

"A... dress? It is a ball, as much as I'd love to go in my comfy linen pants, I think I may get fired." Kina laughed at her own joke, trying to diffuse the tension she obviously saw gathering in the King's face.

He sighed, raising a tired brow at her. Did she not see herself in any flattering light at all? She made him laugh. Her very presence shone a light in his life, made him forget just for a brief moment, the immense pressure he had on his shoulders now as the King. What did he have to do to make her see that? Looking down at his own outfit, it finally clicked in his mind, just why she had drawn back in her own shell. His gaze flickered back to her again, and it only took a split second for the dark-haired prince to decide.

Before Kina could protest, Liam had grabbed her wrist and all but dragged her to the royal boutique, where he deposited her right in the center before heading to rifle through the hangers. Kina stared at the sight of the regally dressed King rifling through the various outfits. "What are you-"

"Getting you an outfit befitting you, Lady Makeena of Fydelia." he muttered, a strain in his tone. Settling on a midnight blue dress which had a diamond-encrusted bodice, he pushed it in her direction, ignoring her spluttered words as he turned her and shoved her by her shoulders towards the changing room. "Either you change, or I'm stripping you right here, Kina. Your choice." he finally said with a tone of finality when she turned to walk out, only to have Liam blocking her way.

For a long moment, both of them stared at each other in silent mutiny.

And then Liam reached up to cup her cheek, thumb caressing her cheeks in a show of tenderness that immediately had Kina's heart fluttering. "You are worth every bit of attention anyone shows you. Myself included. You have a heart greater than anyone else I've seen... and you will walk into the Costume Ball on my arms tonight." he grinned a wolfish grin that, in any other circumstances, would likely have resulted in Kina jumping on him had they not been in a public area. "Because I'm likely snapping the neck of the next man who shows you attention."

---

"Where did the everyone else go to, you were saying?"

"Self-defense training."

"In their dresses?!" Kina squeaked in surprise. Liam turned to look at her, and couldn't help the soft chuckle at her large rounded eyes. She looked extra adorable when she allowed her actual emotions to show - and he wanted to always see her actual emotions and not the controlled facade she showed everyone else.

"Mara's logic stands." he shrugged, reaching out to push a tendril of her curled blonde hair, tucking it behind her ears. "You're more likely to be attacked in your ballgown then in proper attire - so she felt it was appropriate." Liam was finding it harder and harder to tear his eyes away from her, even as they now stood right at the entrance of the ballroom, ready to enter at the given notice. She was spectacularly dressed, and his eye for clothes for her proved itself. The extravagant dress Liam had picked out fell to her ankles accentuated her pale skin and blonde locks, the very ones which she had curled and haphazardly tucked into a simple coiffure on top of her head. The dress had a modest neckline, but a plunging back which showed off the curves that she had. The dress itself flowed like water around her legs and was paired off with a pair of glittering silver heels, lending Kina an illusion of height and elegance.

"And I do not need self-defense skills?"

A flare of protectiveness surged through Liam, and he tightened his arms around the hand she had threaded through his elbow. "No. Because you will not stray from my side tonight, Kina. I mean it." He couldn't bear to see a repeat of what had happened to Riley, happen to Kina. Not this small, petite younger sister to Madeleine that he has come to now fiercely appreciate.

Before she could respond, the voices of the rest of the nobles made both of them turn, and Kina's eyes widened when her eyes landed on their friends and their outfits. She found each of their outfits gorgeous, Hana's and Riley's especially outstanding, but... "Maxwell?!" she gasped with a hidden laugh.

Liam chuckled, nodding at their friends. "He insisted," he explained to Kina, as the rest of them approached.

"There you two are."

"We were... delayed by Kina's impeccable fashion sense. I have fixed it."

Drake wore a look that obviously said he did not believe them, but it was Hana and Riley whose sharp eyes saw the way Kina's eyes rested in the crook of Liam's arms and exchanged looks that hid their squeals of delight. Riley especially had been feeling bad ever since she rejected Liam for Maxwell. She knew Liam was a great person, a noble one who deserved someone who whole-heartedly loved him.

"Everyone's so pretty!" Hana exclaimed, drawing Riley back from her silent, solo celebration of the way Liam tenderly and thoughtlessly caressed Kina's hands that he held.

"Only a few others here break a seven on the costume scale." Olivia scathingly remarked.

"Riley!"

The call of the new duchess's name made the whole group turn, just in time to see the arrival of Kiara and Penelope, both decked in dresses that represented their house and colors. As everyone complemented each other on their choice of outfit, it was one voice that brought a chill to Kina when she heard it.

"What's this little gathering?"

Liam felt the way Kina froze, and while this was supposed to have been his ex-fiance, he couldn't help the mild irritation that leaped up when they all turned to face Madeleine's icy cold stare. In her dress of ivy leaves that represented her house and her perfectly curled blonde hair, it was obvious to see Kina was like her sister in color and skin. But to Liam, that was where the similarities ended.

Where Madeleine had been conniving, ambitious and cold, Kina was warm, friendly and with a heart that was eager to help others. The difference could not be starker, and Liam revealed in the fact that he had the right sister on his arm, even as Olivia dove right in to antagonize Madeleine.

"Must you really barge into everyone's business?"

"I am checking upon my hapless sister." she breezed past Olivia and then appeared to freeze in shock when she saw just whose arm Kina was on. Madeleine frowned, eyes flickering to Liam's hard gaze, and then back to her sister. Appearing to decide to go ahead anyway, she bowed to Liam, and immediately wore a smile Kina recognized to be that of sly plans - she had seen Madeleine practice that smiles to perfection all her life after all. "I do hope my sister has not embarrassed herself. I see she's at least managed to pick a respectable dress for her charge. Lucky guess?"

“Know your place, Lady Makeena. I’m sure Lord Godfrey has taught you since birth.”

In that one instant, as Madeleine's reprimanding voice brought to mind the disapproving look of the Queen Mother, it was as if walls were closing in on Kina, the drowning in the sea -

Liam tightened his grip on her arm, bringing her back to the brink of reality, surprising her enough to make Kina turn her gaze to him. She saw his hardened features, the steeled gaze he focused on Madeleine who in turn, looked very shocked to be on the receiving end of such a fierce look from her usually gentle ex-fiance.

And she was reminded of everything he's told her. That he would fight for her, that he would choose her, would risk for her.

All prepared to launch into a defense for Kina, Liam was held back when a soft hand and a touch he knew was laid on his chest. Turning down to the owner of the delicate fingers, the King's eyes widened when he saw the determined look on Kina, who faced her sister with a fire he's seeing for the first time.

"I have had the same classes as you had Madeleine, and I single-handedly run Fydelia while everyone is away. I believe I can handle Duchess Riley's reputation just as well as you can."

While soft, there was a quiet determination in Kina's voice that made Liam swell with pride as he watched the subtle shift in her posture. The straightening of her spine, tightening of her hold. "The duchy of Valtoria is represented by the colors red and white - military strength and sincerity. The dove signifies a symbol of peace, but Lady Riley has chosen the Phoenix - just what Cordonia needs, a symbol of beauty reborn from ashes."

The more she spoke, the more the pride grew in his chest as she steadfastly stared at her sister, who seemed surprised at the change that had come over Kina. For once, Madeleine appeared to be at a loss for words. The rest of their group stared in surprise, but Liam practically radiated pride as Kina stepped back, just as the doors opened.

"It's time!" Maxwell's excited exclamation broke the stunned silence.

Olivia's subtle quip to Maxwell was left unheard, as the King squeeze Kina's hands to bring her attention to him. There in his gaze, her breath caught when she saw how his eyes shone for her - with what emotion, Kina was afraid to put a finger on, but it definitely made her heart tighten. "Come on, my lady.

Arm in arm, both of them headed to the front of the line, right in front of the closed ballroom doors where one could hear muffled strains of music playing from the other side.

Looking down at her, his look melted to one of tender affection when he saw her suddenly become a nervous wreck again. Walking in on his arm - it was practically a public declaration. What would his parents think? Regina would probably rip her a new one.

"Are you ready?"

Kina nervously gripped at the material of her dress, biting her lip. Was she? Well, it was either do or never.

Turning to him, she smiled, calling on the faux courage to bolster her till she could make it. "The real question is... whether Cordonia is ready for me."

---

The walk-in had been... well, nerve wrecking would be saying the least of it. Being announced on the tail of the King was an experience Kina would akin to nothing before, especially when her appearance was met with whispers mixed amongst the fanfare and applause. Throughout the whole time, she kept a firm grip on Liam's arm, and to his credit, he never let her go, always next to her to keep a conversation or steer her in the right direction. Other then that one time where he had to address the crowd upon Constantine's entrance, Liam had never once left her side.

"Your hard work has paid off." Liam murmured, watching the way people spoke to each other, the soft lull of conversation on the background of the string musicians.

Kina raised a brow, her hands nursing her glass of punch. "My hard work? You mean yours and Riley's," she replied with a laugh.

Liam laughed, and affectionately rubbed her back. He ached to press a kiss to her skin, but he knew better than to draw attention to her now. Even with Andy dogging her every step as her new security detail, he was taking no chances. "We've come a long way. You played a big part in it." he paused, letting his gaze linger on Kina for a period of time till she flushed.

"What?"

"I'm proud of you. You did well, standing up against Madeleine."

His words made her smile turn to one that was more abashed then anything. Just then, Constantine waved across the room at Liam. He frowned, hand still lingering on her waist, but Kina nudged him. "Go. I still have a job to do tonight." she reminded him, a laugh glittering in her eyes.

Looking down at her with obvious worry in his eyes, Liam sighed and looked up to wave Andy over. "Watch over her." he murmured, giving her one last look before he drifted away to where Constantine stood. Her eyes followed his movements as if she couldn't bear to be away from him.

"You aim too high, little sister."

Madeleine's sharp tone caused Kina to look sharp, and her eyes narrowed at the condescending look Madeleine wore. "He is King. I was trained to be the Cordonian Queen since I was a baby."

Kina paused. And then smiled. "But being a Queen requires more than just emulating previous monarchs," Kina said with a straightening of her spine, and a confident smile on her lips. Parroting Liam's words to her, she continued, "It is having the heart to forgive, and wanting to bring others to the top. Have you ever wanted someone else to be on top other than yourself, Madeleine?"

Without waiting for her sister's response, Kina pivoted on her heels and turned to where Hana and Riley were waving her over, content to leave Madeleine to seethe.

[plaguedparadox]

Whispers in the Dark - Chapter Ten

Never a Normal Day

The small amount of time away from the egos was bliss as much as I did adore them. Nothing was more bliss than a bit of peace away from energetic people and it certainly was a good thing that my roommate was lazy. The imp was busy lazing around on the sofa, surprisingly in his human form as he laid in the way of the sun, enjoying the warmth. A chuckle left my lips as I watched Anti, enjoying his silent company on the warm morning.

I sat cross-legged on my armchair, doodling away on some spare paper as I let the time slip by me, only taking notice of the time when my ringtone sounded out. Anti groaned at the noise while covering his ears. I offer him a quick apology before rushing off to my room to collect the noisy device.

“Yeah?” I called out after I pressed the answer button only to receive the sound of crying and cars going by as a reply. Confused heavily, I checked the ID of the caller. “Mark? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I asked, quickly putting the phone back to my ear after seeing the man’s name on the screen. My heart began to race as small murmurs of apologies left his lips. “Mark…?” I asked softly, hoping that my gentle tone would at least calm him enough so he could speak.

“I fucked up…” He spoke out, another sob leaving his lips as the sound of cars going past sounds out once again.

A gulp left my lips as I tried to work out what was going on. “Are you… are you driving?” I ask, hoping that his driving wasn’t being impaired in any way.

“No, I am!” A new voice sounded while another tried to get Mark to calm down. “Danny, what’s even going on?!” The voice cried out, just as confused as I was. Arin? I thought as I heard Danny reply with a short reply of him not knowing himself. I quickly ask why they’re driving, I needed at least some information.

“We found Mark just walking Chica while trying not to cry. When we tried to get information out of him he just kept asking for you. I’m Danny by the way! Hi!” Danny called out in greeting before going back to trying to calm down Mark from the sound of his voice going from somewhat happy at speaking to a new person to soft and gentle.

I quickly say hello to both him and Arin before asking Mark what’s wrong yet again. “Come on, Mark. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong…” I mutter in frustration as I wished that I had the ability to help him. The only thing I got as a reply was Mark mumbling that he was a bad person and that he hated himself. I could just about hear Arin and Danny calling him an idiot for thinking that as the signal started to weaken.

A sigh left Arin as his voice suddenly became louder. He much of grabbed the phone away from Mark. I thought to myself as I waited for the call to end. “We’re heading over, see you as soon as we can! … He needs you…” He stated before hanging up on me.

I sat in silence for a small while in shock, not at the fact that two Grumps were about to visit, but that Mark was a sobbing mess and apparently needed me. What could possibly be wrong?  

I would have stayed in that position if Anti didn’t walk in and drag me out so I could get something to eat with him. My friendship with the imp was a surprisingly healthy and stable one like it would be if he was just human. He looked out for me, still not telling me why while I tried my best to look out for him.

Celine remained quiet but I could guess that she wasn’t too happy with her brother’s actions. She was still there, I could see her red orb following closely behind me at points but she decided to act more like a shadow at this point.

Anti clung to his thick scarf as he bounced up and down impatient while waiting for his food to be done, I giggled to myself as I watched the child-like glitch. He wore clothes that would look more suited in the winter, but with the scarf, glasses and beanie he really did look like a normal human. Before all of this, I would have easily mistaken him for Sean. The imp whined to himself as he once again looked over to the kitchen eagerly. “This sucks…” He complained as he pouted with his arms crossed.

A laugh left my throat as our ticket number got called and Anti practically sprinted over to collect our order. We barely had time to sit down before he was already eating his food. I scold him jokingly before starting my meal, taking my time unlike the man opposite me.

The sound of Mark’s sobs crawled to the back of my mind, eating away at my thoughts but I tried to push it down so Anti couldn’t tell something was wrong. His words echoed Dark’s. My thoughts called out. ‘I fucked up’. What could it mean? Celine finally chimed in, I could only guess that curiosity finally got the best of her. I have no idea. I assumed Dark’s were because he was beginning to feel something for me but I could be wrong on that.

The idea of the demon having feelings for me sent a shiver down my spine as Celine made a joke sound of disgust more teasing than malicious before recalling that Dark was using a version of my body as a vessel then her sound of disgust became real.

Anti and I made our way back home shortly after we finished up our food, the male being rather chatty as we walked. It would take a while before the Grumps could get Mark over here so we had time to waste and time was quickly wasted with the egos around. I quickly thought back to my friends, I really needed to meet up with them again at some point. I pulled my cardigan closer as a chill brushed passed me, I froze for a moment before calming down realising that it was just the wind beginning to pick up.

He wouldn’t risk visiting while we’re out in the open. Not when Dark could just appear. Celine stated, being so sure that Damien wouldn’t be reckless.

I hum quietly in agreement before collapsing in my armchair, not really paying attention to what the now green tinted imp was talking about. Something about him saving someone before he cut himself off and rushing off to the kitchen to make drinks. He seemed to be doing that more recently as if it was a nervous tick to zoom off to the kitchen to do something but I didn’t question it.

What’s your nervous tick? Celine asked, her orb coming into view. I’ve grown used to these questions, she was trying to know as much about me as possible before she went quiet, I missed these questions. Crossing my arms, typically behind my back. Keeps my back straight, and helps me feel more confident. Helped when I was still a nurse and being confronted by patients. I explained before I walked into the kitchen and helped Anti make some tea. We had time to kill.

It was nearly midnight when I heard loud, almost desperate banging coming from the front door, and I didn’t mean the door to my flat. I quickly rushed to the landing to see Arin talking with my flatmate that answered the door while Danny stood a bit behind him comforting Mark while also trying to calm Chica. I quickly rush down and get my flatmate to head back to their flat, just to stop him from asking more questions, he always was nosy.

Almost as soon as he saw me, Mark came rushing over to pull me into a tight hug. He was still sobbing, even if he was now more than exhausted from both the time he’s been awake and the crying. It took a small while for Arin and Danny to get Mark to go to sleep, even if it was in my bed. Apparently, he was clinging to my pillow as he slept, not that I knew because I was trying to keep Chica away from Ace, she just wanted to do nothing but play with the poor guy.

Soon the other guys fell asleep themselves with Danny curled up on the sofa and Arin on my armchair. Chica was in the other armchair while Ace slept on the backrest of the same chair. I made sure that they were all comfy before walking into my room to see Mark hugging his knees and crying softly to himself.

“Mark?” I call out gently, despite my soft voice I still made him jump. “Everything okay?” I ask as I sit next to him, my arms wrapping around him.

He nodded his head for a moment before changing his mind and shaking his head rapidly. In a low but soft voice, he apologised before muttering that he fucked up as he ran his hands through his raven hair. I pet his hair back down after he messed it up, humming gently to comfort him as he nuzzles his head into my shoulder.

I never thought I would be grateful for more human issues like this, never thought I’d miss the drama of it all but now I was caught up in a mess with egos, demons and spirits. I shouldn’t be feeling grateful as a dear friend cried into my shoulder for some unknown reason but I was because it was human, it was something that I was very familiar with and not in the same way I was familiar with Damien’s voice or Dark’s presence.

Mark and I sat there for a while just speaking softly to each other about random nothingness, just enjoying each other’s company. He had stopped crying about 10 minutes ago and was just playing with my hair as we spoke, not caring about the yawning that happened constantly in our tired states. It was an odd sensation, to be like this with Mark but I wasn’t complaining as he needed this.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

The area around me seemed to be a dorm room or flat of sorts, with basic items in the living room and kitchen. There was no form of modern technology so I could only guess that this was meant to be in the past. “Damien?” I called out as I walked further into the living room. The warmth of the fire that crackled away behind me was enjoyable and really set the atmosphere.

The sound of humming drew closer to what seems to be a younger version of Damien walked over, only for him to stop and look shocked at the fact we were there. He was dressed formally as always, only that his blazer was folded over his forearm. “Sunshine? What are you doing here?” He asks as a small laugh fluttered into his tone. Sunshine? Who’s that? I question internally as he throws his blazer gently onto a chair and walks over. “I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you here! I mean… I was so sure I’d see you at the dance… Um. Forgive me, I’m unsure what to say.” Damien rambles as he rubs the back of his neck, looking away as he talks.

“I figured I’d see you before the dance, just in case we can’t spend time together during it. You always do have girls all over you.” I say without much thought, figuring the lie would be easier to deal with than having to explain that I wasn’t this ‘Sunshine’ person.

A blush coated the man’s cheeks as he takes in what I say. “You think so…? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed, then again Mark always jokes about how I’m rather oblivious with women…” He chuckles before letting his eyes fall on me, his eyes widen as he scans my form. “Wow… Y-You look wonderful!” Damien breathes out, his blush darkening in colour before he pulls me into a hug.

Damien’s grip suddenly faded away and the flames in the fireplace blew out, turning the room dark before lighting once more only more dimly.

The scene around me changed to a more dishevelled Damien pacing around, an angered expression on his face while his version of Mark tried to calm him down. “Dames, it was one person flirting and it’s not like you’re even with her so I don’t know why you think it’s okay to react like this.” Mark rolled his eyes and he grabbed Damien’s shoulders to stop him moving.

The future mayor growled at that and pushed him off before getting in his face and arguing with him. “She’s our friend Mark! My sunshine! I couldn’t just let him think that he could treat her like that! The audacity of it all!” He yells as he continues his pacing, his hands were gripping onto his upper arms tightly as he tried to contain himself. Only to growl and glare at the front door as someone knocks. “I should have punched him! Maybe that would have given him the hint!” He muttered before shouting out: “GO AWAY!”

Mark threw his hands up in clear frustration at the situation. “He was being friendly…” He muttered as he walked over to me, whispering apologises for Damien’s outbursts. “And to think that this is the first time you’re seeing his infamous temper…” He shook his head before telling Dames to calm down once again before stating that Damien was terrible at fighting upon hearing Damien mutter about punching the mystery man once again.

It was all rather confusing but at the same time very frustrating to the point I stomped over to Damien and forced him to sit down on a chair and exclaiming for him to calm down. I nearly broke my serious stance as the shocked look on his face was strangely comedic.

A small stare down later and Damien decided to give up his angry tirade and instead made his way to his room. Mark apologised once more before escorting me out.

A flash of light blinded me or a moment before I found myself back at the manor, I glanced down at myself to see myself in a grey suit with the old watch that Wilford ‘gave back’ to me clinging to my right wrist. Weird, I usually clip it to my left… I think before I look around me. It seemed to be a portion of the garden, and it was turning to night time as the moon raised past the twilight in the distance.

A relaxed sigh left my lips as looked out into the distance, I would have been more relaxed if it wasn’t for the lively sounds of people inside. The sound of someone walking towards me made my gaze break away from the sky and draw it back towards the manor to see Damien walking towards me, his hair slightly dishevelled in a rather attractive way.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself out here, old friend.” He speaks out as he pulled me into a warm hug. “Though I do fear that you’re becoming chilled to the bone.” He said, his tone slightly slurred as alcohol affected him, as he nuzzled his face against the top of my head. I looked over his shoulder to see the Colonel looking at us through the window, as soon as he noticed that I saw him he gave me a goofy smile and a thumbs up before being offered another drink from the butler. Something about the gesture he threw my way made my cheeks flare up into a blush, the embarrassment driving me to plant my face into Damien’s shoulder.

A light chuckle sounded out from the distance alerting us to a presence a small bit away. Damien turned to face the person before making a small, almost embarrassed sound.

The sound of a door closing made me aware of whoever was once there had gone back inside.

Damien’s hold on me tightened and a small but happy sigh left his lips. “I’ve missed you, sunshine. I can’t believe it’s been so long since we last spent quality time together!” He gushed as he pulled out of the hug and held my cheeks in his hands. “And I think I’m completely drunk…!” His drunk laughing cuts him off as he tries to keep himself up as he can’t use me to keep him up. The DA should have been drunk at this point too so I can only imagine how she was. “You know… I always did like you. Love, even. I adored you, sunshine! My sunshine… Why did I stop calling you that…?” Damien places his hands on my shoulders to keep himself stable as he confesses. I mention if he wanted to date and the look on Damien’s face as he heard that could brighten anyone’s day. “A date?! Yesyesyesyesyesyes! Please! I-I’ll plan it!” He rambles as he pulls me back into the manor.

A chuckle left my lips as I watched the mayor stumble over to the Colonel and gush about what happened, a large and goofy but proud smile curled at the military man’s lips as he watched his best friend talk about how happy he was that he was going on a date.

Soon the all too familiar scenes of the poker night went passed and soon I was back at the mirror, the sound of the Colonel’s laughter in the distance. I glared at Dark as he tried to get used to walking, it would have been funny if I couldn’t hear my voice begging and pleading for Damien to come back and let them out. I was a bystander by this point, my point of view no longer matching with the DA’s. I sigh and walk over to the past version of Dark and watch as he uses Damien’s cane to keep him up, the fact he was using a body that had been going through rigor mortis was proving to be a bother if I interpreted his frustrated expression. A small laugh did eventually leave my lips before I went away to try and find William.

The Colonel did seem to be searching the house for his lover and his best friend, scanning every room thoroughly as he continued to call out their names. “Damien? Come on, your girl is downstairs waiting for you!” He called out as he opened the door to the room Damien had been staying in, his hopeful smile dropping once more as the hope and determination in his eyes faded just a little bit more, just as it did with each room checked. “Are you two changing your hiding spots? That’s cheating, you know!” He exclaimed in desperation as he examined the room for any signs of the mayor and his sister.

A frown had practically cemented itself to my face as I watched my dear friend slowly lose his hope, his sanity already mostly gone at this point. A frustrated growl left his lips as he stomped off outside, I followed close behind as I knew he couldn’t see me. He had checked every room twice over at this point. “They must have left the bloody manner, the cheek of it!” He huffed as he took off his glasses and tried to rub the never fading tears from his face. I guess a part of him knew the truth even with his fractured mind and was busy griefing while the rest of him acted out. It broke my heart.

William continued to walk away from the manor, probably to check Damien’s home like he said he did, and as I tried to follow him I was stopped by a firm hand on my shoulder. “Please don’t…” Wilford’s voice sounded out as he moved to stand by my side. “Some things are best left in the past, old chap.” He muttered as his hand slid down from my shoulder to my hand.

“Time to wake up.”

[usxpp-moved-blog]

                     @kantogod left you an ask!

A string of curses had unraveled from his tongue, unfurling as the creature his best friend advanced towards what was Reds intended target, however before Usopp could even properly think, his body got inbetween them. Red’s crimson hues shimmered with hot anger along with it's seemingly dark, cold eyes. Clearly he had long lost control and in the moment Usopps words fell on deaf ears as he did everything he could to try and reason with him. Every step he took rattled Usopps bones and struck his heart. He tried to dodge as his friend lunged forth, but his hands had struck his side, causing Usopp to stumble into the dirt. He could hear nothing, all was silenced, the yells of the audience, the inhuman look and sounds coming from someone he’d known since they were young, all of it was inaudible. All he could do is feel. Feel the cold ground pressed against his form, the heat from the pain, and the rhythm of the drum that would signal what he thought was his end.

The flesh had split open, mild crimson liquid pops from the barrier and seeps away from the wound. Thick beads crawling as it travels etching red streaks along his mangled neck, lips and obviously broken nose were caked in blood. Blood that had once flowed thick and scarlet in his veins now flowed like a lazy river, gushing out of the exposed wounds. There laid an expressionless male who was sobbing and apologizing hysterically who rested on a pool of mild cerise substance, which stunned Usopp. Everything happened so quickly, even though he saw and felt what happened, it hadn’t fully processed in his brain exactly why Red was crying or why he was laying on the ground bleeding profusely.

Usopp pressed his palms against the mangled flesh, he once heard you were supposed to stop bleeding by putting pressure on wounds. But, oh, there was so much blood —  dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascaded across the his skin, right through the his finger tips. He looked upward into the sky. He closed his eyes as he felt a searing pain.

The hospital room is as devoid of beauty as he was of hope. The last thing he remembered was a clear beautiful blue sky, now all he saw was a cream colored ceiling. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but the pain was still there. Thanks to the heavy dose of medicine he’d been given, Usopp never stayed conscious for more than two minutes at a time. A faint sound of voices here and there, but none were loud enough for him to be able to make out who it belonged to. The room coming into full view once more had an undertone of bleach and the floor was a simply grey. A nurse walked in and told Usopp it’d been about a week since he came here and during that time a young man had come to visit from early morning until visiting hours came to a close. When hearing that news he couldn’t help but feel for his friend, Red was always a little self conscious about his appearance but that never once mattered to Usopp. Sure he had strange teeth but he himself had a rather long nose but that didn’t stop him from making friends. Even as he laid there covered in bandages from the neck up to the bottom half of his face, not once did Usopp harbor any anger or hatred towards the man. A simple accident is all it was, what was supposed to be a day where they were supposed to hang out and have Red treat them to lunch because he lost a bet ended up with... this.

A few more months ( roughly 6 ) had passed but by now Red no longer came to visit. Usopp would lie in the hospital bed and text him when he could but no response, at least now whatt Usopp would consider an actual conversation. While he was being treated for his wound there were tons and tons of text messages saying how sorry he was, how he came by every day for hours in hopes I’d wake up. And how when they finally told him that I was now fully awake he was struck with fear and couldn’t face me. But no matter what text Usopp sent after reading that, Red never once text back.

The nurse had given him a scarf to wear once the bandages were taken off. In a few days he’d be allowed to go home. As happy as he was to hear the news he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that his friend wouldn’t be there. Finally the day came in which his bandages would be removed, although he knew it was coming he still hadn’t fully prepared. However they did warn him that the scars wouldn’t heal and that surgery was impossible, beneath the wrapping he could already feel how something was different. The thought scared him but Usopp was completely calm as he gave them the okay to remove his bandages. ⟨ ..... ��  He sat up frozen in silence as tears started to fall down his cheek, wincing in pain as his tears slid down into the wounds he constantly wiped his eyes at the sight of himself. He hardly recognized himself as he took the mirror into his own hands. His whole body shaking at the image in front of him, he knew he’d been attacked but to see just how much he’d done made the whole thing seem like a nightmare.

The day of his release had finally come, a little bitter sweet since he had to walk him by himself. Tying the bandana around his face, it covered the wound and you wouldn’t be able to tell unless one had gotten real close. A device that allowed him to speak in a robot~ish tone had been attached to his throat, apparently voice box had been severly damaged and was instructed to remove it before taking his showers.

Finally home sweet home. Checking his phone to see if Red had responded before settling in, unfortunately no and he didn’t want to go over to his house and just knock. At least not yet. A simple text saying “I’m home.” was all he sent as he tried to adjust to what would be his new life. More time passes and now it’s been a whole year since the incident occurred. Usopp had gotten word Red hadn’t really left his house in all this time, and the thought he might be blaming himself still had him a little upset. Growing rather use to seeing his new look by now, it didn’t bother him. Sure he still wore the bandana when in public, but aside from a few stares he didn’t pay it no mind. So he decided that today he was going to pay Red a visit, after all they had something important that needed to be addressed.

⟨ Red! I’m downstairs, please open the door! ⟩  After a few knocks he decided to yell at the open window in hopes that his friend would answer. Twenty minutes had passed but his friend had finally answered the door. Usopp as happy as can be smiled as he gave Red a tight squeeze. Clearly Red wasn’t as enthusiastic as he was but the first thing to come out his mouth was an apology, and oh boy, Red made it very clear how sorry he was. Placing a hand on his should her looked him in his eyes and told him that he doesn’t blame him for what happened.  ⟨ I know you’re sorry and I also know how hard you try to keep yourself in check. Accidents happen but we’re still boys! I don’t want you lamenting over this any longer. ⟩ How ever his words were cut short as Red asked to see the damaged he caused. Usopp would’ve been fine if he never asked, in fact he hope he wouldn’t. The sooner they went back to being friends the better. With his eyes cast downward Usopp sighed deeply before returning his attention back towards Red.  ⟨ I’ll show you but I have to state my reason for coming. Today was marks the year of the incident, but more importantly today, back then, was supposed to be the day you were going to treat us to lunch since you lost the bet. ⟩

Without another word he stood in front of the door as he removed his bandana. He could already see the expression forming on Red’s face, it was a gruesome sight to see but before Red could get any words out Usopp immediately went in for another hug, grabbing the back of Red’s head and burying it into his should as his body tensed.  ⟨ I don’t want to hear it, what’s done is done, okay? I’ve known you for a long time & I rather you not continue to beat yourself up over it. It’ll take some getting used to & I’m willing to stick by you as you learn to accept what happened. However buddy, you still owe me that lunch, so let’s go eat, alright? I’ve already forgiven you. ⟩

[eleanorose123]

Kastiltskin

Title: Kastiltskin Word Count: 2,341 Summary: A beautiful man is tasked with turning hay to gold and is forced to rely on the talents of an interesting stranger to survive. A Rumpelstiltskin AU.

A/N: This was quite literally me coming out of the shower at 10 PM thinking "wouldn't it be funny if I put these two in this type of story" and before I knew it it was 12:31 AM and I had written over 2000 words of it. Ain't that just typical. I’ll put this on Ao3 when it’s working again.

A long time ago, in a place far away, a king and a miller ending up drinking together. In his drunken haze, the miller began to boast about his child; a beauty for the ages, with eyes of sapphire and the ability to make the impossible come to life. The king took fancy in such a girl, and gave the miller a summons to bring the daughter he had described to the castle for inspection.

The miller, in actuality, just had a very aesthetically pleasing son, who did not take kindly to being referred to in such a manner.

“How dare you go about proclaiming me to be a woman!” his son cried. “To the king no less! What would become of me if-“

“Will you relax, boy?” the hungover miller said, even then still nursing a bottle in hand, as he lazily sat in a chair. “Just do what the king asks, it’s not like you have anything better to do.”

Before he had chance to retaliate, guards of the castle had arrived to their home to escort “the fair maiden”. Through a series of swears and spats, the young man was promptly dragged out of his home by the guards and taken to meet his fate. Whatever that may be.

In a surprising turn of events, the man was not recognized as a male (even considering he made no efforts to hide it), and the king put him to work for his “magical gifts”. Throwing the miller’s son in a tower full of hay and one spinner, the king declared that the hay should be turned to gold by morning, or else he’d meet the blade of the executioner’s axe.

The poor man struggled for hours to escape, making no effort to try spinning hay into gold for he knew it be hopeless. But alas, the tower’s walls were hard to climb, and the only window was far out of his reach. Anger had turned into reluctant acceptance of his soon to be demise, and the man slid down against the brick walls to sit in the hay, hugging his knees as his long silver hair shielded his face away.

“What’s a pretty one like you sitting in hay like that-ka?”

Startled, the man jumped at the sound and hit his head rather hard in the process. Once he had come to, he had realized another person had entered the room without his knowledge. Before him crouched a peculiar looking man, with bandages wrapped around his head and purple tinted goggles similar to the ones the alchemists in their land wore. His eyes stared right at him, along with a mischievous grin on his face.

“How did you get in here?” The poor man questioned. “Help me leave.”

“Kakaka, aren’t you demanding?” Standing up from his spot, the stranger was revealed to be quite small, only coming up to the other man’s midtorso in height, and that would be if wasn’t hunched over like he was. “Don’t worry about it, pretty boy. Now, what’s this I hear about turning hay into gold-ka?”

“My name is Kurage, you pest.” Growling, he stood up to look down on the other. “I don’t know how you heard about that, but let’s just say my father and the king are like two halves of one idiot.”

“I hear a lot of things around here-ka. So, Ku-ra-ge~” the short man played around with the syllables of his name like it was a score of music. “If you’d like, I could help you out of your little predicament…for a price-ka.”

“I have nothing to offer you, filth. I am a miller’s son after all.” Kurage looked up to a far window. “Just get me out of here now and I won’t call the guards on you.”

“Who said anything about escape? I simply mean I can do your little task for you-ka. That whole hay to gold trick is easy for a person like me.” He cracked his fingers before walking towards the spinner, a hop in his step as he went. “Just say I have permission to take that ring from your room and I’ll help you out-ka.”

“What did- Have you been spying on me!”

“Just say yes, you tall glass of annoying. Unless you want to die come morning-ka.”

Not seeing any other option, Kurage agreed to the terms, although still a bit peeved that someone knew of the ring he had stolen years ago. Through gentle and graceful movements, the stranger began to weave and spin the hay through the spinner, the reels filling with gold in moments. He had made it quite a show, quietly buzzing a tune under his breath as he worked, though by the third reel of gold, he took notice of how the other lost interest and took to sitting facing away from him.

By the time the humming stopped, Kurage turned and saw the stranger gone, and dozens of reels of gold in his place.

The king was ecstatic by the results, but to the peasant’s great annoyance, he was not allowed to leave just yet. Getting thrown rather harshly into another tower of hay, he was asked to make the same ridiculous miracle as before, lest he face the previously mentioned consequences. Kicking hay aggressively, he heard a familiar voice.

“Really-ka? Again with the hay?”

“The king has a thing for it I suppose.” Kurage sighed and took note of the eager look in the other’s eyes. “…I take it you also want the necklace I have hidden under the floorboards of my bed back home, right?”

“Ooo~ That’s a good one-ka!” Stepping forward, the small man reached up and gently patted the side of Kurage’s face. “Don’t you worry, I’ve got this.”

“I cannot believe I am forced to rely on the aid of such a lowly creature.” Kurage watched the man in question shrug nonchalantly before going to work. “…why are you helping me like this anyway? And how for that matter?”

“I know how to do a lot of things-ka, but I don’t know why I know them. As for the why, ah…” He paused from his spinning. It was the first time Kurage saw this strange man without a smile on his face. Instead of a smirk, his lips were pressed tight, until with a shake of his head, the smile returned with a laugh. “Let’s just say, I owe you one.”

Kurage decided he didn’t have the patience to try and coax a proper answer out and waited for the morning to come.

Waking up with a jolt, he found he had fallen asleep during the night; the stranger gone once more with the promised gold reels in his place. Kurage mentally pleaded that it would be the last time he’d be forced into such a situation, but the king, overjoyed by the results once more, said otherwise. Tossed into yet another tower of hay, the king made his decree. But what was promised should the deed be done made Kurage’s blood run cold.

“MARRIAGE?!” he yelled out, inwardly knowing that his strange comrade would hear him. “If I do this, I have to marry that oaf?!”

“Kakaka, you’d make a beautiful king, I’m sure.” Kurage turned around, hissing that he could never see the other enter or leave these towers. “Although, I suppose you’d be his queen until your honeymoon night-”

“Enough. I don’t wish for such mental images.” He sighed deeply, running his fingers down his long silver locks. “I’ve never been a woman, never wished it either, so why must these things happen to me?” Feeling conflicted over the situation Kurage sat down, the other man staring at him with a pondering look before joining him.

“Got me-ka. It took a lot for me to get people to recognize me for anything but a girl.” He gestured to his bandages. “I didn’t get these by tripping you know.”

“I take it I’ll not get a full story of that either?” A brief shake of the head. “Of course….I don’t even think your services will be needed, odd one. No matter the result of this night, I am doomed to die none the less. Unless you could help me escape-“

“I can’t get you out of this tower, stop asking-ka.”

“You’re such a little pest!” Kurage gave the other a shove, who in turn laughed at the response. “I suppose my only chance is through succession though…so what is it you want from me now? I am all out of stolen goods for you to steal off of me.”

“I could ask you for your gorgeous silver hair, or even your ocean-like eyes.” the stranger stuck his tongue out teasingly. “But in all honesty-ka, I don’t want to get messy like that. So, how about this? Tell me a story while I work and we’ll go from there-ka.”

Kurage found he could agree to such a request, and began to recount stories from his youth as the night went on. Several were children’s tales (“Fitting for one so small” he had noted) but a few were stories of fact. From things such as his father’s drunken mishaps, to a time he’d saved a little girl from a river’s wrath. Unlike the previous nights, Kurage refused to look away from the magic before him, and found himself smiling a few times whenever he caught the stranger’s eye as he worked.

“There you go,” he announced. “One room full of gold-ka.”

“That should please the idiot king. You’ve done…” Kurage really couldn’t bring himself to compliment another living being. “Adequately. Now please, amaze me with your escape method.”

“Ah ah! I still haven’t gotten my payment, Kurage. I’m still owed my due-ka~”

“I thought we had agreed I had nothing left to-“

Before he had any time to react, the small stranger had leapt up and caught Kurage’s lips with his own, causing them to collide against the stone wall in the process. The kiss was gentle, as if too much force would break the other, and as quick as it happened, he pulled away, a light blush dancing upon his cheeks. With a warm smile, he looked sad as he said,

“A first kiss holds more value than you realize.”

A bit shaken from the kiss, Kurage couldn’t respond, and could only watch as the agile man jumped wall to wall of the tower to reach the window. With a small wave, he had left, leaving Kurage with gold and hope to live another day. Fingers gently pressing against his own lips, Kurage almost wished he did have another tower to be flung into.

But no hay was in his future, as the king took to proposing to Kurage on the spot. Unable to get in a word about his rejection of the offer, or even address the king’s confusion of his gender, Kurage was dragged by handmaidens to get fitted and prepared for a wedding he didn’t want. Upon reaching the room, Kurage angrily removed his shirt to prove a point to the women caring for him, causing them to run out of the room in an embarrassed frenzy, leaving him to assess his situation at hand.

Not in a locked tower, Kurage noted the easier access to the windows. However, a brief glance outside told him his plans would be in vain, as there was a long fall down to the gardens awaiting him if he even tried to jump. And with nothing in the room close to being enough to make up a rope, he quietly pleaded out loud.

“I doubt you can hear me, and I doubt you could rescue me this time, but please, if you’re here and care as you may claim, get me out of this prison so I can come to know you more, you pest.”

But nothing came from it. Kurage looked around but there was no one in sight to make him feel at ease. All at once it crashed down around him that he might never see the stranger again, and such things made Kurage feel ill.

“…I never even got his name.” he whispered, before clenching his jaw and feeling a tear roll down his face at the realization.

“It’s Ka. I really hoped you would’ve guessed that, pretty boy.”

Startled once more, Kurage saw his savior stand before him, his head cocked to a side looking up at him with an arched eyebrow. Realizing what he had been doing, Kurage viciously wiped away his tears and glared down to the other.

“Who would guess such things? That’s barely a noise, let alone a name.” he scoffed, looking the other way. “Kissing me like that…you really are an absolute fool, Ka.”

“It takes one to recognize one it seems-ka. Now,” taking his hand, Ka lead Kurage to the window where a rope leading them to freedom resided. “I take it you wish to leave the king at the alter?”

“Without question.”

In a burst of emotion, Kurage lunged forward and caught Ka in a hard pressed kiss, his arm wrapping around the other’s torso and hand cradling his head. After letting out a surprised noise, Ka found himself relaxing into the kiss, the other’s warmth taking over him before reaching up and letting his thumb stroke against Kurage’s cheek. Hearing footsteps outside the room, the two quickly parted and returned to their escape.

It would not be the last time the duo found themselves running away from pursuers hand in hand, as the two found their similar interests in others’ possessions to get them into their fair share of trouble.  Kurage would never discover the fact that in their youths, he was the one who saved Ka from a river accident, nor would he ever ask again why the magical man was ever indebted to him.

To him, his debt was paid. And to Ka, his life was made.

[cheesecrip29]

Dimensia (YC)

Hey, all! This was something I wrote for my creative writing class! I used a prompt from @writing-prompt-s. I'm excited about feedback! I hope you like it! (I'm also crazy nervous about this like what?!?)

Crack!

I opened my eyes and gazed at the ceiling above me. Except, it wasn't a ceiling, it was green. And leafy. Crap. I thought. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I looked around and sighed to myself. I've done it again. I wonder where I am now.

I was sitting under a tree, the sun was shining and the air was crisp like it usually is the early morning. I was in a field on top of a hill. There was a little stone wall a few feet to my right, it wasn't large and it was crumbling at the edges. The area reminded me of those farms you see in old British movies.

I stood up and looked around, feeling a little lost. I was usually more awake when I landed myself in other dimensions. You see, I have a condition called Dimensia. It's a very rare condition where I wake up in different dimensions. I've been to loads of weird places, let me tell you.

Dimensia runs in my family but usually skips a generation. My grandmother had it before me, and her grandmother before her, etcetera. As far as I know, I'm the first man in our family to have the condition. It was a huge surprise for my grandmother when I disappeared from my crib one night. She found me pretty quickly, but it was a worrying situation nonetheless.

Now, I'm standing under a tree in some foreign dimension. I sighed and stuck my hands in my pajama pockets. I'll have a quick look around, see what there is to see until my window home opens again. I thought. I strolled down the hill, letting the morning sun wash over me.

So far, this was a pretty nice dimension. I walked through the field, the grass was up to my waist. I pulled my hands out of my pockets and let them drag through the grass. Sometimes it's nice to wake up in dimensions like these. I thought happily.

I looked over my shoulder, back at the tree, and stopped at what I saw. There was someone under the tree. I couldn't see any clear features, they were just a silhouette, but holy frijoles was I spooked. I held up my hand and waved a little. The silhouette didn't wave back.

I cursed and closed my eyes tight. I opened my mind and felt for the rift in time and space that would lead me back home. It was there, but it wasn't big enough. The thread that kept me connected to my own dimension was thin. I cursed again and opened my eyes. The silhouette was still under the tree. They hadn't moved.

I held up my hand and waved again. The person began to walk down the hill towards me. I was warned strongly not to talk to people from other dimensions if I could avoid it. The Butterfly Effect was the bane of my existence. I looked around desperately for something - anything - that could help me. There was nothing.

I bent my knees slightly and clenched my hands into fists, recalling the boxing lessons I had been learning since preschool. As the person grew nearer, I began to see facial features. It was a man, maybe six feet tall. His head was shaved and his expression was blank. He wore a blue jumpsuit, there seemed to be letters stitched into the fabric but the man wasn't close enough for me to read them.

"Hello!" I called, hoping that the man would respond. He kept silent and kept walking. "I'm gonna have to ask you to stop where you are, man," I said, hoping against hope he would listen. He didn't. He was close enough now that if I squinted I could read the words stitched to his jumpsuit.

Prisoner # 102938473

"Dude! Stop where you are or I'll have to hurt you!" I called. He did not stop. He was getting closer. "Stop!" He was practically on me, his face was still blank and there was something in his eyes that frightened me. I put up my hands and punched in the face. I felt his nose shatter under my fist. I jumped backward as blood gushed from his nose.

"What do you want?" I asked, watching the man over my fists. He didn't speak but came lumbering towards me again. I jumped to the side as he reached out to grab me. He stumbled but didn't fall. He turned and came at me again. I punched him in the jaw this time.

He reeled backward, his arms windmilling. I kicked him the chest, he toppled over. I straddled him and grabbed the collar of his jumpsuit with one hand and held my fist threateningly above him. He blinked slowly and worked his jaw. "What do you want with me?" I asked him again. He gazed into my eyes but did not speak. I held tighter to his jumpsuit and closed my eyes. I began to look for the rift that would let me go home. It was there, and it was open, but no big enough. It would be crazy dangerous to try and shove myself through it, but I had to get out of here. I opened my eyes and looked down at the man beneath me. He was smiling.

"They want you." He said. I was so shocked I let go of his jumpsuit. He disappeared with a crack. I stayed where I was, kneeling in the grass that reached above my head.

The prisoner had Dimensia too, I thought, how is that possible? I shook my head and closed my eyes. The rift was big enough now. I reached out with my mind and latched onto the thread connecting me to my own dimension. I felt a pull in my navel and heard the distant crack.

When I opened my eyes, I was kneeling on my bed. I wasn't feeling any less shaken then I had a moment ago. I crawled off my bed and got dressed quickly. I left my room and headed for the living room. My mom and dad were sitting on the couch watching the morning news.

"Hi, Honey. You slept late." My mom said, smiling at me from the couch. She saw the expression on my face and her smile fell. "What's wrong?" She stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders. My dad muted the TV and watched me anxiously.

"I was in a different dimension."

"Was it bad?" My dad asked. I nodded. "Tell us what happened."

I shook my head and said, "I need to tell Grandmother, is it alright if I go there before I tell you?"

"Honey, are you sure?" My mom touched my cheek and looked into my eyes. She was always nervous when I dimension hopped.

"Yes." My mom nodded and let me go. I kissed her on the cheek and walked to the door. I grabbed my keys off the hook and closed the door behind me.

"Mrs. Michaels? Your grandson is here to see you." The nurse said, leading me into the room. My grandmother was sitting in her bed, a book open on her lap. My grandmother saw the look on my face and said,

"That will be all, Melissa thank you." The nurse smiled at me and left us alone. I walked to my grandmother's bed and sat down at her feet. "What's wrong Victor?" I took a deep breath and began telling her my story. She didn't say a word the whole time, just sat and listened to me.

"And that's what happened," I said, I looked down at my hands folded in my lap, waiting for her to answer. When she didn't, I glanced up at her. She was staring at me like I was on my death bed. "Grandmother?"

"Victor, I'm going to speak to you like an adult. This is very bad. These people, they aren't good."

"Who are they?" I asked.

"The Council."

"What?"

"They're called The Council. It's a group of women who oversee everyone with Dimensia. They make sure we don't break the laws of the universe."

"How come you didn't tell me about them?"

"You weren't allowed to know."

"Why not?"

"The Council doesn't allow men with Dimensia to roam free. It was the price I paid to keep you with your parents."

"I don't understand," I said. The confusion I had felt when I was fighting the prisoner was back, worse even.

"Let me explain, no questions until I'm done." She said, "The Council was created by the first ever dimension travelers. There were ten of them from the Core Dimensions. Nine women and one man. They came together and decided upon the laws of the universe, what dimension travelers could and could not do.

"They worked together for years, creating an underground for those with Dimensia, men, and women. Then, the grandson of the male Council member, Nikolos, did something he shouldn't have.

"He saved Rome from falling in Dimension Eight. The Roman empire never fell, they still rule the world in that dimension. No one would dare change their timeline again.

"He became emperor, and his family has ruled Rome Eight ever since. He became a disgrace among certain members of the dimension traveler underground, and an inspiration to men with Dimensia in the Core Dimensions. After that, men began finding dimensions where they could rule.

"Seven of the ten Core Dimensions had men ruling an empire or kingdom. Some women had taken control too, but only a few. In Dimension Six, a Mary Queen of Scot's impersonator took control of England, Scotland, and France." My grandmother paused for a breath and I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me with a look.

"So, around ten years after Nikolos took control of Rome Eight, The Council came together and made a rule. They decided that men were unfit to live with Dimensia. They built a bubble dimension, they call it the Last Dimension. It's a prison. It's built for men with Dimensia, and it's run by Nikolos's family. He had a brother, you see, one who was completely loyal to The Council.

"He was disgusted with his brother's actions and swore fealty to The Council. He hunted down his brother himself and locked him in the Last Dimension. From that day forward, boys born with the condition have been taken from their cribs and sent to the Last Dimension. They have people there to take care of the babies, but it's not a good place to grow up in." She finished with a shuddering breath, but I still had so many questions.

"Why wasn't I sent to the Last Dimension?" I asked.

"You were." She said, I started to speak but she cut me off, "I went to The Council and begged them for your release. Your mother was furious, your father was terrified. They had only had you for a day. Our family is descended from one of the original Council members, it was enough to convince them to free you on one condition; I had to keep you secluded from the rest of our people. You were never supposed to know they existed."

I stared at my grandmother, my thoughts were moving a hundred miles an hour. There was so much I wanted to ask.

"Why do they want me now? What did I do?"

My grandmother reached out and touched my cheek. Her eyes, brown like my mothers, like mine, were filled with tears. "I don't know." I had never seen her cry before.

"What do I do?" I said, feeling helpless.

"I'll speak to The Council tonight. You stay at home and don't go dimension hopping." I stared at my grandmother, the look in her eyes frightened me. Did she really believe that The Council would leave me alone? "Victor, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Grandmother," I replied. She took her hand from my cheek and wiped her face. She nodded to herself and picked up her book.

She said, "I'll let you know what happened when I get back from Dimension One." I stood and went to leave, but I hesitated at the door.

"Grandmother?" I looked back at her, she had her book open again.

"Yes?"

"I love you." Her eyes stayed on her book, but I thought I saw another tear roll down her face.

"I love you too, Victor." I looked at her a moment longer, then left her room.

I sat in my bed, throwing a tennis ball up and catching it over and over again. It was seven thirty, seven and a half hours after I had spoken to my grandmother. When I had gotten home my mother ambushed me and forced me to tell her what had happened that morning.

As I recalled my story, my mother had gotten angrier and angrier. She hugged me tight when I had finished my story, then broke into a very fast rant. I didn't catch most of it, all I heard was "How dare they!" and "My son would never!". I smiled at her and told her Grandmother would fix it. She fizzled out wandered into the kitchen, wringing her hands.

My father patted me on the back and said. "I'm sure it will be alright son. If it's not, we'll just set your mother on them." He chuckled and followed after my mother.

Now, I caught my tennis ball again. I threw it up, I caught it. I threw it up, I caught it. I sighed and rolled onto my stomach, the tennis ball fell to the floor and rolled under my desk. I rested my chin on my hands and glared at my pillow. The waiting was going to kill me, I was sure of it.

I hung around my room until my mother wandered in at ten forty-five with a plate of cookies. She set them and my nightstand and kissed me on the forehead. "Are you going to school tomorrow?" She said, sitting on my bed and taking a cookie.

"Grandmother said to stay at home, I don't wanna risk The Council coming to my school." I sat up and grabbed a cookie as well. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah, of course, it is. Your dad and I work tomorrow, do you think it will be safe to leave you here alone?"

"Probably," I took a bite of my cookie and chewed thoughtfully. Eventually, my mother bid me goodnight and left me alone with my cookies and my thoughts.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but I dreamed about the prisoner. We were slow dancing in a large room, it looked like an amphitheater. The benches were gilded with gold and silver, the light seemed to bounce off them and into my eyes. The prisoner dipped me and his face loomed above me. He was smiling, his mouth was filled with blood.

I screamed and woke up. Thankfully, I was in my room. I covered my face with my hands and laid back on my pillow, I breathed deeply for a few moments. With a final large breath, I took my hands from my face and rolled out of bed.

I didn't bother to get dressed but wandered into my kitchen to make breakfast. I put the toast in the toaster and leaned against the counter while I waited. The face of the prisoner flashed across my mind, I groaned and pressed my forehead into the cupboard above the toaster. My toast popped a second later and I jumped.

I mumbled curse words under my breath as I buttered it. I took a bite as I wandered into my living room. I plopped down onto my couch and searched for the remote. I spent a good portion of my day watching Glee. Every once and awhile I would get up and go to the bathroom or find something else to eat.

Staying home with nothing to do was never a good thing for me, I ate every snack food we had in the house and I hardly left the couch. It was very unhealthy, but it was all I could think of doing without attracting the attention of The Council.

Around noon, my father came home for lunch. He brought me a foot long from Subway and glanced warily at the pile of snacks and crumbs around me. "Are you sure you're okay with staying in all day? Maybe you could go for a run or something?" He asked.

"Grandmother said to stay home, I don't want The Council attacking me on the street," I said, wiping my mouth on a Subway napkin. My dad frowned at me.

"I know you hate it when I sit around all day, but there's not much I can do."

"Maybe you could run a few laps around the backyard or something?" He suggested. I glanced at him and my resolve crumbled.

"Yeah, I guess I can do that." He smiled at me and clapped me on the back as he stood up.

"I'll see you tonight, Victor. Be good." He said, smiling at me as he closed the front door behind him. I sighed and pushed myself out of my crumb pile.

"Pitiful," I said with a glance at my crumbs, there was a clear area shaped like my butt. I went back to my room and put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I didn't bother with shoes, the whole of my backyard was grass. My father took great pride in his lawns, he was determined to have the best on the block.

I walked outside and closed the sliding door shut behind me. I groaned and started on my laps.

I was back on the couch. I had done twenty laps around my backyard, taken a shower, and finished season five of Glee. In the matter of Netflix, I had a very productive day. I was about to start season six when my front door flew open. I jumped and launched myself off the couch. I threw my fists up and glared at the doorway.

My grandmother walked in, her silver hair up in a tight bun and her purse hanging off her arm. She wore a coat despite it being April. I dropped my arms and stepped toward her.

"Did you talk to The Council?" I asked. Her expression became stony. She walked into my living room and glanced disdainfully at my spot on the couch. "Grandmother, please."

"I did."

"What did they say?" I took a step towards her.

"They want to see you." She didn't look at me, instead, she fiddled with the straps of her purse.

"When?"

"As soon as possible." She walked up to me and touched my arm. "Go make yourself presentable, Victor." I looked at her a moment longer, then left her to get ready.

Fifteen minutes later, I was standing with my grandmother in the suit I usually wore to church. My hair was combed and my teeth were brushed. I didn't feel as nice as I looked. "I've called your parents, they know where we're going. They told me to tell you that they love you and that they'll see you again soon." My grandmother said, looking up at me, her brow furrowed. She reached up and straightened my tie. "Are you ready?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"I need you to think about an amphitheater. The benches are white, marble, their edges are gold and silver." I flinched at her words, but my grandmother either didn't notice or pretended not too. "Keep that amphitheater in your mind. Now, find your doorway, Victor. Do you see the amphitheater?"

"Yes."

"Go to it." She said. I reached out with my mind and latched onto the amphitheater. I felt the pull in my navel and heard the crack. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was there, in the amphitheater from my dream. The sun reflected into my eyes, but not as blindingly as in my dream, I could still see. I looked around and saw that there were people in the seats, watching.

My grandmother stood next to me. She reached out and grabbed my arm. "You can't leave until they say so, understand? Only speak when spoken to, and don't say anything stupid." I nodded and tried to swallow the nervous lump in my throat.

"Victor Graves, welcome to Dimension One." Said a booming voice. I looked around and saw a group of women sitting behind a table. They had a little platform taking up one section of the seats in the amphitheater. There were nine of them, all middle-aged or older. They wore white robes and their hair was pulled back in what looked like braids.

They were outlined in the white light, somewhere in my mind I thought they should have looked like angels, but they brought me no comfort.

"We have called you here to discuss your future." Said the woman in the middle of the table, the booming voice belonged to her. "Your grandmother has persuaded us not to send you to The Last Dimension immediately. You will be judged and your fate will be decided." She smiled.

"Have you intentionally traveled to any of the Core Dimensions?" Asked a woman at the right end of the table.

"No," I answered.

"Why is that?"

"My grandmother told me it was forbidden." The woman nodded a few times, picked up what looked like a quill and scribbled something.

"Have you intentionally traveled to any dimension outside of the Core Dimensions?" Said the next woman in line, her quill at the ready.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"My grandmother had me travel to dimensions to train me." The questions continued from here. Each woman in turn, from right to left, asked me a single question each. They asked me which dimensions I had traveled to, how long I usually stayed, if I had ever spoken to someone and how long, if I had ever hurt or been hurt by someone, how long it took for my window home to open.

"And finally, who do you believe we should let you continue to live your life as you have been?" The woman in the middle asked. I blinked and thought about it for a moment.

Eventually, I said, "I'm a stranger to the way most people with my powers have lived, but I still have these powers and f-feel that I've never abused them. I-I was raised to believe in justice, and if I've done anything that b-breaks your laws I will face my punishment. W-whatever that may be." I clenched my fists to stop them shaking. I was really, really hoping they wouldn't send me to The Last Dimension. I breathed deeply a few times, trying to master myself. Are my knees shaking? I thought.

The women at the table were all passing papers to the woman in the middle. She didn't look at me while she gathered the papers and began to read through them. I took the moment to look around the amphitheater.

The seats were filled with women. They ranged from teenagers to the elderly. They wore a mixture of robes and normal clothes. Most looked at me with disdain, a few looked curious. A few teenage girl's to my right were giggling behind their hands and whispering to each other. When they noticed me looking, they smiled and waved. An older woman behind them leaned down and whispered to them, a stern look on her face.

The girls rolled their eyes but didn't giggle or whisper anymore. The woman behind them glared at me and I decided it was time to look at The Council again. The woman in the middle was just setting down her last paper. She laced her fingers and looked down at me.

"The Council had reached a stalemate. Half believe that Victor Graves should go free. The other half believe he should be sent to The Last Dimension." Said the woman with the booming voice, the women in the amphitheater seemed to grow quieter if that was possible. "We will now ask you, the people, to decide the fate of Victor Graves. Raise your hand if you think he should be able to return to his normal life."

I looked around as hands rose into the air. It was impossible to try and count them. I noticed that the group of girls had their hands up.

"Should he be sent to The Last Dimension?" Hands in the air again, I glanced around. Was that more than last time? "It has been decided. Victor Graves, you have one minute to say goodbye.

"What?" I asked stupidly. I turned and looked at my grandmother. Tears were streaming down her face. I felt tears of my own rising behind my eyes. My grandmother stepped forward and hugged me tightly.

"Victor, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She sobbed into my chest, I hugged her back.

"Grandmother." I said, a thousand thoughts shooting through my mind, "Tell my mom and dad I love them. I love them so much. I love you. Grandmother, I love you. It's not your fault, okay? Don't blame yourself. Please don't blame yourself. I want... I want there to be a funeral so my friends can say goodbye." I let the tears stream down my face, there was no point in trying to stop them.

"Oh, Victor. I love you." Her body shook, I had never known how tiny she was, how frail.

"Your time is up, Victor Graves." Said the woman with the booming voice. A fresh wave of sobbing took over my grandmother. She gripped me as tight as she could. I had never seen her like this. You'll never see her again. I thought. "Evelyn, you need to let him go." The woman said. She was obviously trying to sound calming, but the effect was lost on my grandmother and I. When my grandmother didn't let go, I slowly pried her away from me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She sobbed, I touched her cheek. She covered her face with her hands and stumbled back a few steps. It felt like my heart was being ripped in two. I tore my eyes away from my grandmother and glared up at The Council. The woman in the middle glared right back.

"You will be escorted to The Last Dimension now. You will not fight, you will not struggle. You will obey. Do you understand?" Said the Councilwoman. I didn't respond. A loud crack rang around the amphitheater. I was suddenly grabbed by two men, they were wearing the jumpsuits of the prisoner I had met.

I did not fight back, I did not struggle. I obeyed. I didn't know it then, but I was setting an example for future generations of men with Dimensia. I was innocent, and everyone would know it. I looked over my shoulder at my grandmother, she was still sobbing but she looked over her hands at me. We locked eyes.

Crack!

[stillwaterspecs-blog]

when i’m dead make these cowards eat the ashes

the new month is quickly approaching. august is winding down and the back to school shelves are nearly naked. all the shopping centers and shoe stores are bumbling ghost towns and kids are biting their nails again and the trees are beginning to feel weak. they know their time is almost up. i watch those trees bend and sway and start to break under this crippling realization, and in my unnamed, unmatched eyes, i see myself in those trees. 

my life could be called good. it could be called bad. my mother will look back on it and tell everyone that i did what i loved always, with who i loved, and i yelled and screamed not to only to be heard, but to be listened to. she will tell her friends and she will tell my estranged family members that i was not going to find the cure for cancer, no, but i may have found the cure. 

my friends will not look back on my life or me at all. they’ll look at all the people who ruined it and they will point fingers. they’ll ruin his life and her life and make them pay and they may even write songs and throw sick sad parties and puke their sadness out. they will say i was right to leave, wrong to go. nobody will understand and nobody ever has. i don’t understand. where do i go, where do i fit?

lately i’ve had the feeling that i don’t belong. that i never belonged. ever since i was little, ever since i could grasp disassociation, i think i’ve felt it. in order to understand september 1st, and all this noise, let me go back to the beginning. i don’t often tell my story. i can rarely do it without squirming and crying and shaking and wanting to punch my own stomach until i can’t feel my churning stomach anymore. but i am not telling. i am typing. my stare is cold and still and my lips, sealed. i refuse to squirm and give power to this keyboard and this blank and this twitching cursor. i am typing this story to make sense of my life and its turmoil and i am trying to answer a question. will i make it to september? 

when i was twelve years old i was rambunctious and could read multiple grades above my level. i had power bangs and wore pink sweatpants and played my brothers drum set pretending i was meg white and sang into a shitty mic like i was jack and all was rainbows and butterflies or so they say. i was the kind of kid who could be left alone but didn’t want to be. a boy called bad was hired to be my babysitter. he had been hired years prior as a friend, almost a family member, by my older brother and his hair was brown and gelled near the top of his forehead and he didn’t smile but he laughed. his little sister was my age and she pretended she was a wolf and liked to hold my hand. she howled at the moon sometimes and told me secrets that weren’t really secrets; things about trees and squirrels and the fish that swam upstream. anyway, we had matching bangs. 

her brother called bad made my heart pound. in the fight and flight way. he would sit criss-cross-applesauce on the floor of my basement and let me sing and moan along with billie joe about my unknown male teenage angst. he clapped and sometimes he played the skins, and he was my mike dirnt and we were on tour in england. he told me i sang like an angel. a punk rock angel but an angel nonetheless. he told me i was extra pretty when i sang. i was twelve years old and he was old enough to drive. but he told me i was pretty and that was the only time i ever felt it. 

it went on for weeks, maybe months like that. just the two of us, and sometimes he would bring his little werewolf sister over, and we made horrible music and i sang about masturbation without knowing and sang about bombs and heroin without knowing because i was too young. i was too young to understand that i was not supposed to be beautiful yet. not to anybody but my mommy. my babysitter called bad continued until to call me the beautiful girl until he could show me.

there’s a closet in my basement. nowadays we keep the xmas decorations in there with the old dance, dance revolution mats and bins upon bins of snow clothes. i can’t remember the last time i played in the snow. back then it was pretty empty. it was barren except for my dad’s workbench with his wrenches and hammers and screws and all those evil things. there was lots of room to hide and seek and play when i was twelve. it was just a big old closet. i don’t know what you’d call it these days. 

the first time bad took me into the closet i learned how to play sticks. you put your fingers out and transfer fingers to each other and its all very lovely actually. you laugh when you get too many fingers and i imagine that perhaps that how love works. he taught me how to play sticks so many times. i was smart but i was silly and i cheated and he always said no. i should’ve respected his no. maybe he would’ve respected mine. 

the second time we were in the closet he kept the lights off. he said that i was getting so good at sticks i could do it in the dark. joke was on him. my eyes had adjusted and i never did it in the dark. i could always see what he was doing. i could always fucking see what he was doing. 

it’s here where i get angry and feel lost. so many games of sticks in both the light and dark. a week or two of sticks is exhausting. he agreed. the third time we were in the closet i lost a game of sticks. he told me that i lost the bet. i didn’t remember any bet. i couldn’t remember a bet that said he got to put his fingers in the waistband of my pink sweatpants and pull them down slowly to my ankles. i couldn’t remember a bet that said he got to rub his fingers against my underwear and make me squirm. i never made a bet that let him slide the black bandana in my hair over my eyes and then cover my mouth. i remember tasting the salty sweat on his thick angry fingers. i couldn't make a sound. even if i wanted to. i had lost this game of sticks and i had lost the bet. what else was i supposed to do?

it went on like that for three more years. 

three years of absolute fear. i couldn’t hug my family and i couldn’t run away from them either. i couldn’t sleep alone but it hurt me to sleep between any warm bodies. three years of him inviting me upstairs to his bedroom at xmas parties and tying my hands behind my back, rubbing his wet jeans against mouth and hips and telling me to be a good girl. to this day i am always a good girl. it was three years of me being the center of his grown up fantasies and his heart pounding dreams. i tried to fight him once in his own home but he grabbed my wrists and i can still see the bruises if i cry hard enough. it was three years of pure torture, pure pain. my skin was ruined and reddened and tainted by the hands of a bad bad man who could only seem to find joy in the scared of eyes of a young girl. for three years i learned how to be quiet. i took socks in my mouth, my own panties, my own dignity and swallowed them all until my throat was so clogged i couldn’t say no. 

and then one day i made a tiny little scene. pushed against him while he was grabbing my hips, ramming his own into mine, groaning and moaning and loving me bad. i let him grab me as tight as he possibly could, jerked my hips so hard hoping to hear them snap, hoping to hear him break, any part of him. my hand met his face with such fervor and delight i almost felt high. it wouldn't be the first time he hit me when he hit me back but it would be the last. i was a teenager now. i knew what was wrong and why it was wrong and i was old enough to know that i was always going to be the loser. but for a moment, the red stains my fingers left on his fat cheek whispered victory. we stared at each other, chests heaving in some sort of sick twisted unison. he pointed his cracked bedroom door and i followed his command for one last time and left.

its been another three years. those rooms and those houses and this body remain a crime scene. they remain a nightmare and they remain silent. my trauma has trampled my ego to pieces, my confidence to shreds. i am still a victim. i still can’t love completely and give completely or breathe right. i can’t dance or let go and i can’t wear bandanas and i can’t play sticks. well, i can. i can do all these things but it is not without consequence. it is not without my sobbing, puffy face hating itself in a public bathroom’s mirror. it is not without breathing so much yet so little that i black out. it is not without a loss of appetite so extreme that i can’t get out of bed, and i can’t pick up the phone. it is not without nightmares. it is never without them.

and yet i wish this was an isolated case. i wish i could tell you, whoever is reading this, that when my fifteen year old self left that bedroom she was never hurt again. she was never touched wrongly or unfairly or without her goddamn written consent. 

when i was fifteen years old i was loneliness manifested into a skinny mousey haired brunette who had shed her punk rock baby snake skin and grown into a sophisticated and dramatic theatre kid. i was outspoken, but let myself be silenced often. i was hardened by life and by men and by family and by the seemingly never-ending weathers that plagued upstate new york. i was going to rehearsal mon wed fri and church sat and sun and reading the good book with broken eyes and an even more shattered soul. i was so far from redemption that i think i had found it myself. when i was fifteen i met a boy in a striped sweater who told me he liked boys and girls and especially girls like me. we baked cookies at a nursing home and told little old ladies and racist old men lies about jesus and then kissed each other with tongue on the bus ride home. 

he was always in a striped sweater and one night, on a day when we weren't reading the good book with our broken eyes, he told me he was throwing a sort of party. the sort of party where everyone squints at each other and spins empty vodka bottles and yells and screams and laugh at you when you cover your ears. the sort of party where to music isn’t bad, it’s just too loud. and that sort of party sounded like the sort of party my parents wouldn’t like so it was my sort of party. he picked me up in his striped sweater because i wasn't old enough to drive yet. maybe that was always the appeal. 

alcohol is a weapon. and i was shot, murdered, annihilated. all his friends were older and wore less clothes than i did, said more words that i did, and yet, made less sense than i ever did. they were laughing like i thought they might and screaming like i thought they might and popping pills like they were candy and telling each other they loved each other. i know what loves look like and it does not look like that, it does not look like them. they offered me their candy and their glow sticks and he put me in his striped sweater and told me to plug my nose when i drank it. drank what? there was a blue solo cup in my hand and i drank it dry. i was so scared and so warm. i drank it all dry. pinched my nose and closed my eyes and drank it all dry until i didn’t open my eyes again. 

the next time my eyes were open they were laid on a video sprawled almost carelessly across somebody’s snapchat story. it was my first time seeing my body outside of my body. it looked like me and it slept like me and yet somehow it was somebody else. my limp broken jagged sad drunk dumb ugly body in a striped sweater slumped on his lap. he grabbed my soft hands and he laughed and he played with them and sucked each finger like a peach lollipop and then dragged it across his chest and down his pants, moaning like the wind in october and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. he was laughing the whole time, just like i thought they did at those sort of parties. they all were. next time i saw him he was at the round table sitting underneath a crucifix and eating a fruit snack, and i told him i didn’t believe in god. he told me he knew that already. 

“girls like you never do” 

i asked him if he believed in god.

“what do you think?” 

we got confirmed together and my new middle name was the same as the patron saint of the arts. i told my parents i didn’t believe in god, and neither did anybody else. i still think i’m right. 

when i was sixteen i tasted more bitter than ever. my brain twisted around itself and became sadder than ever. i started to crawl back into my body and hate it from the inside. my hair was purple sometimes but mostly just unkempt. people were watching their step and their words around me and that was the way i wanted it and how i wanted it was going to be the only way. when i was sixteen i fell off a skateboard and cried. i was making friends out of necessity and slicing up my thighs and stomach because i was too scared to die. when i was sixteen i met a twenty one year old man who wore leather jackets and dyed his hair black. he wore pictures of green day on his t-shirts and sang like a punk rock angel. he liked that i could sing like one, too.

we read scripts together and watched each other change backstage and he showed me tricks with his zippo and watched the flame in my eyes diminish whenever he commanded it to. he told me stories of women and goddesses he’d seen writhe and the pushed his lips against my neck to whisper how he’d never had someone so young. i was beautiful again. i wore shoes with heels and smudged my eyeliner and cut thumbholes in my favorite maroon sweater. presented myself as a lifelong partner to a man who brought me to the basement costume room and told me to take my shirt off. 

i stood in the dark in a training bra. when i was sixteen i still didn’t know how to handle my sexuality. he laughed and made me shiver until finally he cupped both my breasts with both his hands and twisted them so hard i yelped. it echoed in the room and it hit me. it hit me so hard i ran out of air and ran out of love. he pinched and squeezed me like i was my own voodoo doll and kept whispering bitter nothings into my collarbones. he planted seeds so menacing and so damaging that to this day the roots live in every dark, wet crevice of mine. in my eyes my curse of my youth pours out, from my nostrils my unbridled unwanted passion, and my shaking and open jaw drips like a moist cave and from the deep deaths of my throat his words still emit: so young, so new, so silly.

he touched me all over until he got bored. i felt stained. i felt warm and wet where i didn’t want to be and he ran a long slow finger from my crotch to my belly button and asked me to beg for it. when i didn’t, he took his box of costumes, and left. his footsteps were the least of his destruction and yet they made me quiver in fear. i thought about them coming back, i thought about him coming back. for what seemed like an hour, i stood half naked in front of a full body mirror and practiced saying no. i saw a sex driven bruise on the bottom of my neck and cried. it has never gone away. 

(that night i went home and swallowed as many pills as i could.)

(that is a different story.)

i was still sixteen when i took a bus to nyc and carried a butter knife in a purse for the first time. it worked as a weapon and a mirror and scared me more than anything. i thought about stabbing my babysitter. i thought about watching blood seep and soak that striped sweater. i thought about strangling him with a training bra. i thought all these things in a black dress in black tights with black heals and a black heart sitting next to a white man. he struck up conversation with me and wished me luck. he knew the city was dangerous sometimes. i was just going to see a broadway show. i was just going to see art. the most dangerous thing about art was the truth. and so he was quiet and laid his head against the window until the winter sun set early on the two of us. 

he woke to construction in the city. i watched him stir and just barely heard him mumble in confusion. the bus was dark and humming in the traffic. the shadows of the city were filling my brain and my mind and grounding my heavy sad feet. there were bandages wrapped around my ribcage. i was a shit show disguised as lonely girl disguised as a horrified girl. it must of showed. he put his hand on me knee. 

they all put their hands on your knee. and they move and creep up slowly, and they don’t look at you, because they are ashamed, and they are just as alone as you are. except they are alone in their ecstasy. they are alone in their indulgence and you are alone in fear and you are drowning. the water and the stakes are high and yet your mouth is shut. i closed my eyes and let tears run down my cheeks as he touched me. i remember saying please. i remember whispering no. i remember believing in god for a split second just to tell him i hate him. hairy fingers pressed against my tights pressed against my body. he was rubbing my shoulder with the other hand, his head still on the window. my tears fell on his arms. they shone in the lights of forty second street and then were eaten up by a buildings’ moon cast shadow. he touched me until our bus parked in front of the theater. he touched me until i stood up and pulled down my dress and grabbed my jacket and collected what i could of my body that still belonged to me. i sat through the show and cried during intermission. i took a bus home and sat alone and cried three and a half hours back. i took off my bandages and let myself bleed. i haven’t been to a broadway show since. 

dear god how i wish i could tell its over. that this story has seen its end. that the lesson has been learned. that at this point i have been saved. but i cannot tell you that. i can tell you that it is all beginning to blur. my story has no beginning anymore. no middle. no foreseeable end. 

when i was seventeen i fell in love for the first time. i learned that it was okay to be damaged and in love because that was how i loved my CDs, my records, my guitar. when i was seventeen i met a boy who bought me flowers and candy and set an alarm to text me on the dot every night at 11:11. to make a wish. when i was seventeen i met a boy who told me music had a right and wrong, gave me a black eye, and lit all my joints. i let him take my virginity because he wanted it. i want it back. 

when i was seventeen i learned that a true life cannot coexist with guilt. that love cannot coexist with hate. i learned that guilt did not only look like something but it felt like something. it felt like painful sex and it felt like being choked until my vision blurred. it sounded like one set of moans and groans and it rang out my own personal silence. it felt like my first bad trip, where the world became hyper clear and i called an ambulance over a dozen times. it felt like waking up in the back of my own car. alone. tripping. dissolved. used. it felt like the drive to school. it felt like a bareback. guilt manifested in my brain and body like a maggot and has since hatched into something uncontrollable. something undeniable. it has become me. 

a man who cannot take no for answer is the same as a man who will not listen to your answer. a man who claims to love you is the same as all the men who didn’t as soon as he betrays you. a man who guilts you into the illusion of love and takes what he wants while you are under his spell is not a man; he is a fucking coward. he is a con artist. 

when i was seventeen fucking years old i played my first ever punk rock show. i was shaking and alone and embarrassed and cold. but for the first time i was at least a musician. but leave it to a magician to turn me into nothing but a piece of meat. when i was seventeen years old i was followed out of my first gig by a man in a red hat and broken teeth and backed against my car. i put my number in his phone to avoid being hurt and months later he appeared at my work place to get me inside my car and grab my chin and my wrist and kiss me. kiss me with his tongue that tasted like an old chimney and leave a sticker promoting his band in my cupholder. and by the time i could hurt him and stab him to death with my car keys he was smirking at me from the other side of the glass of my passenger seat window, pulling a cigarette out its box. 

i am not out of stories to tell but i am out of patience. i am out of anger. it is five o clock in the morning, i am eighteen years old, and i’m sweating and shaking from a nightmare. i am sick of seeing the faces of my loved ones and close friends superimposed on these angry thoughtless bodies that tie me up and gag me and sing happy birthday and squeeze my tits and ass and shove themselves inside me and i am sick of waking up in a cold fucking sweat crying and scrambling for my phone to call 911 or my mommy or my beautiful beautiful boyfriend who i trust more than anything and still cannot give myself to. i am sick of being a perpetual victim to PTSD. of BPD. i am sick of being perceived as unlovable. as tainted. as unwanted. not only by others but by myself. i am sick of the disgust i feel boiling in my chest as i look in the mirror and see a girl who never got the chance to grow up. and so she stays kind. she exudes innocence. she exudes curiosity. its because i am kind. its because i am innocent. its because i am curious. there a good side of people that i want to know but am afraid to try. there is a light side of life i crave but am afraid to shrivel up in. 

september first is not because i am sad. it is not because i am dramatic. it is because i am exhausted. i am overused. i am saturated. i am limp with love and hatred and dripping with defeat. feed me to the dogs. i do not believe in god