#and the sex-repulsed person was convinced that this would ruin everything

[scribefindegil]

My extremely specific and self-indulgent headcanon is that Reigen's a sex-repulsed ace but he does not have any concept of these terms or know anything about asexuality, and bc he's never been in a serious relationship where the issue would come up he's just gotten by on Not Thinking About It. And Dimple is a sex-neutral ace; he's a ghost, this doesn't really apply to him, but he wouldn't be opposed to messing around if he was ever in a situation where that made sense. Which means that when they start dating Dimple's like, "Well, he's a human so he probably cares about that sort of thing; I'd better let him know I'm okay with it!" just as Reigen's like, "Well, I'm in a relationship now so I'd better find a way to get over the completely nonsensical bad feelings I have about physical intimacy!"

And obviously they work it out but bc it requires Reigen to be Honest About His Feelings it's pretty touch-and-go for a while there.

(And then at some point later on they learn about asexuality as an identity and Reigen's like ". . . Oh." and Dimple's like "See, idiot, I told you it was normal!")

[starshipsofstarlord]

Sheer | Kai Parker

Warnings; SMUT, ANGST, and FLUFF, mentions of death, mourning, loss, mentions of murder, trauma, swearing, unprotected sex,

A/N; sorta made up a whole storyline for this imagine, may be a teeny bit different and may have gotten a little carried away, please enjoy loves

It would not uphold, the weather held a grudge against you as you trudged through the pouring rain, cursing you for thinking that you would be safe on your lonesome.

Instead of a monster, the world wished for you to drown in its falling rivers, making you shiver down to the bone. It was too cold, but you had to go there, it was a ritual.

Since the death of your boyfriend, Aaron, who was killed by Damon, someone you thought to be a friend, you felt broken.

You had tried everything to bring him back, but without the power of a witch, it was deemed impossible, and Bonnie refused to help you, claiming that it was necromancy, and far from her beliefs.

It angered you, how everybody would dismiss the lost lives that Damon took. He got a free pass, he didn’t even regret his own invalid actions.

He was a monster, and you hated him. If you couldn’t bring Aaron back, then you would instead kill his murderer. That would not only give you a sense of revenge, but also make the world a safer place. There would be one less vampire making people’s lives a misery.

“Hi there.” You stopped in your tracks, the voice sending shivers down your spine. Whilst it sounded like a man, in reality it could be anything.

The skin of a human was a disguise the majority of the time, a bloodsucker or a wolf coping inside the exterior, thirsting to break free from the walls of bones and flesh.

“Kai.” He was not exactly human, he was a witch, the one thing that you needed. You had met him through Elena, who was luckily also angered by Damon’s actions, Aaron had been her friend.

And just like that, he had died. But she hid her feelings well, pretending all was fine because she was in love with the gruelling monster that you wished to execute.

However, even though you wanted to bring back your lost beloved, the time that had passed made your mind being up the idea of moving on.

The first person that sprung into your imagination was Kai Parker, the new sociopath in town. He was new, unaware of the traumatising past experience that lingered in your heart, and not to mention, his specimen was one of beauty.

Those grey eyes, ever so curious could bore straight into your soul, and you’d gladly let him mangle it, you no longer had a use for it anyway.

“Why are you out here y/n/n?” He asked with a tilt of his head that had your heart beating profusely.

Everyone knew of his effect on you, but they told you to dismiss it. It was cruel, that they’d rather have you mourning the loss of your partner than to move on with another.

To you, it didn’t matter if he were supposed to be the enemy, you no longer wanted to fight their battles. All you desired was to be in love, with somebody that felt the same.

And whilst you doubted that Kai knew how to feel such a strong emotion, some attention wasn’t the worst thing in the world. As a matter of fact, it worked well as a distraction, it made you almost forget the grudge that you held against the eldest Salvatore.

Almost.

“It’s nothing.” You whisked the direction of the conversation away from your deceased boyfriend, not wanting to talk about him to anyone, let alone Malachai Parker.

Even thinking of Aaron caused a void to open in the middle of your chest, it was unbelievably painful. You thought some people, such as Bonnie would understand, rather than think the loss as a regular occurrence.

To put it simply, the entire ordeal was completely fucked up, and you felt much more guilty for biting your lip at the expression that Kai pulled; his eyebrows raised, and his fingers carefully running down the side of his own jaw.

Oh god, his fingers. There were so many things that you could imagine him doing with those, and from the way he waved them on a greeting, he knew that he teased the thought too.

“Basically...” he began, rolling his grey eyes with what he liked to call modesty, and you classified as boredom, “you’re stuck out in the rain, and if I’m not mistaken, you live halfway across town.”

“Stalker much?” You sneered, crossing your arms across your chest, which only made his gaze wander down, and hold their movements for a dragged out moment. “What are you looking at?” You exasperatedly sighed, only understanding when you followed his peering.

He was focused on your chest, that through your white shirt, appeared almost bare. The lace of your bra was giving him a clear frontal, and so you adjusted your arms, so that they covered more and whatever they had pushed up to peak his intrigue.

“Why am I not surprised?” Shaking your wet hair, which was pointless considering that it was still raining, you realised that you felt the creeping of the cold.

You had been oblivious to it, thinking that it was a side guest to your tears, almost a consequence. But you were no longer tearful, mostly angry at the killer that ruined your future and acted as though it were no big deal.

“I thought you were supposed to be at college.” Kai quirked his brow, proud of the fact that he knew that. However you shook your head, and watched as he removed his jacket, clasping it around your shoulders, shielding you somewhat from the weather.

It appeared as no big deal to him, but it was to you, sociopaths weren’t famous for being kind and charitable. They always had agendas, their agendas, well they were obviously sociopathic.

But from the glazing of the witch’s eyes, you only saw a lost man. He was misinterpreted by all that he knew, they treated him like an outsider, alienated him as though he were a monster, and validly that was why he was seen as one.

“No.” You whispered, confused as to why you were so complied to correct the man. “My boyfriend was killed, I don’t want to go back there, it’s clear why.”

You attempted to give him a small smile, but it came out as a pained grimace. Just the thought had your mood drained, even more so since there was no route to resurrect him.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” He didn’t shiver in the rain, instead he seemed comfortable simply standing there, conversing with you in the rainfall. “Damon did it, right?”

Licking your lips, you hesitantly nodded, ashamed of the fact that you had once called the vampire a friend. From the start, you were always wary of him, but eventually you managed to become close to him. And then he ruined your chance of happiness, literally sucking the life out of it.

“What a dick.” Kai was blunt with his annotation, but you couldn’t deny that he was right about them. “Sorry for your loss and all that blah blah. We should get somewhere warm though, you can tell me more.”

It was a strange feeling, you felt pulled to the male, it was as though he was one side of a magnet, and you were another. And so you accepted his invitation, and followed him, breathing in the scent of his black coat. It was much sweeter than you had expected.

🏹

His so called home was an apartment, that you no doubt expected he had convinced someone with his magic to give him rent free. Or he killed them, either or you guessed.

But the thought of death itself was one that you weren’t too keen on thinking about, not now. Instead, you’d rather enjoy the company of someone that didn’t shame you for hating and desiring to kill the one and only Damon Salvatore.

Most of your friends didn’t take you seriously, they just barked laughter, not believing, nor willing to think that you could ever commit such a sentence. But they didn’t share your pain, if they did, you were sure that they’d understand.

Matt got it, he resented the vampire and a lot of the other blood suckers too. And your certainly couldn’t blame him, he had lost his sister, and there was no reason behind her change. It had all just been a game, a gruesome one at that.

Kai lightly removed his jacket from your shoulders, hanging it on a hook to dry. He almost appeared embarrassed, having you in such a private space.

But you didn’t want him to endure such a mindset as that. Instead you smiled, brushing your damp hair out of your face, grasping his hands. They were cold, and that made you frown. No one ever cared what he had gone through, instead they just wanted to rid the world of him.

Even his family had dismissed him, all because he had been different, and treating him as such had definitely had a mind mingling affect on him. It repented an unstoppable rage inside of him, one that ended in dead children and imprisonment.

“Thankyou.” The small example of affection had Kai tilt his head awkwardly and pull his hands away from your own. He wasn’t used to people even being polite towards him, let alone openly sharing contact with him.

You should have been scared of him. Or at least somewhat repulsed, but you weren’t, and it was a first for him. Most around him taunted him with blame, or pointed out his obvious flaws.

And so he ducked his chin downwards into his chest, taking a couple of steps back, mumbling something about retrieving you a dry shirt.

As you waited for him, you peeled off the sheer layer, dropping the ball of wet material upon the ground. Your bra had soaked into your skin, but you left that on out of modesty.

When Kai returned, his mouth gaped open, eyes widening at the half undressed sight of you. But he tried to avert your gaze, blushing at your lack of attire.

“It’s okay.” You jested to him , reaching out for the clean shirt that he had brought for you. “You can look, it’s not like I’m naked.”

“Yet.” He smirked as he allowed his stare to freely roam. His voice had been small, but you had heard it as clear as day. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be thinking like that, you’re in mourning and I get that you wouldn’t want to, yknow.”

His hand gestured between the pair of you , prompting what he was talking about. But maybe he was wrong, after all, it had been a while since you had any physical intimacy, and you’d be a fool to deny that there was chemistry between you and a particular witch.

“Don’t be sorry.” You put the dry shirt aside, walking closer to the brunette. “I am in mourning, but I’m going to get my revenge, and a distraction sure wouldn’t hurt.”

“And here I thought that you were just a pretty face.” Kai’s hand drifted to the side of your face, pulling you closer so that your lips were almost brushing. His breath ghosted over your own intermingling the fumes of lust and intrigue. “But it seems that there is a darkness in that mind of yours, I’m impressed with your plans to say the least.”

“I haven’t even told you any of them yet.” Your hand drifted under the band of his jeans, plucking teasingly at the denim, licking your teeth as you made strong eye contact with him.

“Tell me after.” He ordered, grasping your hips, and clashing your bodies together. Your lips worked hungrily against each other, both pairs of your hands grabbing all that they could, you and him both desperate to hold onto anything.

Kai shoved you backward into a table, trapping you against it as his lips fell downwards, and began to suck at your neck.

But at that contact, you pushed Kai away, freezing for a moment. Damon’s teeth had been on Aaron’s neck, sinking in and draining all that be worth.

“See Elena thinks I’m a monster, and she’s right.” You were unable to move as Aaron stood against the vampire, you had been compelled, and you wanted nothing more than to scream out for Damon to stop, but there was no audio in your throat.

There was no scream as Damon bared his fangs , nor when he sunk them into your boyfriend’s neck, instead you were holding back your tears, as you had been commanded to.

He held him to his mouth for a moment before dropping his body lifeless upon the ground. And you couldn’t help but stare at the sight.

Enzo wore a content smirk, and it sickened you to your stomach. Damon turned, his thirsty eyes boring into your form, that wanted nothing more than to crumble into a million people.

“You may now speak.” His pupils found yours, engaging with your soul, that felt broken and completely shattered.

“Are you going to kill me too?” A part of you was hopeful that he would, but as he came closer, you recognised the mischief in his stance.

He had plans for you, none of which you suspected to like. “Do it, show Elena how much of a monster you really are!”

If he killed you, you’d have liked to think that Elena would be furious , but it was expected that eventually she would forgive him when he put his humanity back on.

“Or instead...” you feared his humoured expression, eyes flickering between his feet that were walking closer to you and your dead partner that lay lifelessly a couple of meters away. “I could show her how much of a monster you are.”

He bit into his wrist, bringing it towards your mouth, and as much as you felt the urge to squirm, you could do nothing more but stand there and abide his compulsion.

“Are you okay?” Kai asked, brushing his nose against your own, wanting to know if you wanted to continue. He knew that you were a victim of trauma, and he understood it’s affects.

In regards to his past, his coping method had been inflicting it in return. But you had done no foul against him, and so he would not torture you or force you into something that you had no intention of continuing.

“Yeah.” You breathed, blinking to push the memory away, temporarily at least. “Bedroom.” You ushered, squealing distractedly as he hoisted you into his arms, wrapping your legs perfectly around his waist.

He dropped you upon the mattress, hovering over you, removing his shirt after you began to tug on the dark and rain pelted material.

Leaning your elbows, you unclipped the back of your bra, discarding it somewhere far from your memory, and Kai sunk down, his lips latching onto your nipple, playing with the other in his rough hands.

“Your fucking gorgeous.” He hummed around your breast, his fingers drifting down your stomach to the band of your leggings.

His compliment made you smile, and as he ripped off your pants, he slipped a hand inside of your panties, rubbing your sensitive flesh. But you groaned, frowning at his tantalising actions.

“Just need you inside of me.” You told him, and he was more than happy to comply, so he worked on his belt, as you slipped off your own underwear, and removed the torn fabric from around your legs.

When you looked up, you noticed that he was completely bare, and already had himself in hand. There was precum balancing on his tip and at the sight you licked your lips.

“You ready?” He asked bringing his head down to your chin, placing a delicate kiss upon the bump, and teasing his other tip against your opening, swiping through your wetness and using it to lube himself up.

“God yes.” You sighed, your hands finding refuge upon the back of his shoulders, your nails sinking into his firm skin.

And so, with consent, he pushed in, groaning at the initial tightness. “And I thought that it was wet outside.” He laughed, causing you to snort, he was funnier than you had expected him to be.

It almost made you swoon, but no, you couldn’t be interested in Kai, could you? Everyone thought you had been, even Bonnie had stated that you often undressed him with your eyes in the worst of situations, but it had never been a big deal to you.

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks, with a snap of Kai’s hips. All along you had denied any interest of another man, all because of the one that you had lost. And everyone already knew that there were sparks between you and the witch, before either of you had caught on.

“Shit.” He huffed, reaching down and biting your lips, causing your eyes to flutter sensuously, and dark veins to appear underneath.

At the feeling, you tried to bury your face sidewards into the pillow so that he couldn’t see, but he held you still as he gave shallow thrusts inside of you.

“Don’t look away, I think you’re beautiful.” Him saying that alone had you almost in tears. Despite trying to bring Aaron back you feared what he would think of you when he returned, or well, if he could.

Would he think you a monster, that stood idly by when he was killed? Because if so, you’re heart would literally break, and you wouldn’t be able to bare living any longer.

Living, funny. You hardly described what you were doing as such anyways. But currently, you did truly feel alive again, perhaps that was just the affect of having a dick inside of you.

But as Kai reached down and fiddled with your clit, you knew that you were done for. Your head fell back, eyes closed and mouth open, showcasing your fangs, your orgasm hitting you like a train.

He continued his movements until he felt he was nearing his point, and then he finished too, having no worry in impregnating you as you were well, to put it lightly , dead.

Both of you panted as he pulled out and fell beside you. Your eyes stared at the ceiling, your concentration eventually broken when Kai spoke.

“Damon did it, didn’t he? He turned you.” Your face had returned to its previous disguise, you looked human once more. But it was no secret that you were now a savage, a monster like Damon.

“Yeah.” You bit your lip, trying not to cry at the thought. It was the last thing in the world that you ever wanted, but Damon knew that too. And so he had cursed you, for all of eternity.

“Then he deserves to die.” Kai stated, he was already against the Salvatores, but his hatred for them had just increased.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

____________________________

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: rapid change of POV, angry makeout, hate sex, smut 18+ (very rough sex btw), smart ass reader, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control)

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst? (i still don’t really know what classifies as angst), confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean

𝐀/𝐧: sorry if the pov change got too crazy i was imagining it as if it was like a scene from a movie; just tried something new to spice things up :) also thank you guys so much for the love from only the first chapter?! you guys are literally awesome! i do have a taglist so let me know if you wanna be tagged in future parts! there’s only five chapters by the way!!!!

Taglist _____________________________

(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)

You were hanging out with Peter after you found out that your fight with Bucky made him cry. You two had taken a walk to grab some coffee from the cafe down the street. 

“Why do you and Bucky hate each other?” Peter asked you as you two were walking home.

“Oh, I don’t- I, uh… I don’t hate him,” you stuttered and hesitated, in truth you couldn’t care less what happened to the ass.

“Y/n, you say mean things to each other all the time, and you fight a lot.”

“I know. Peter, sometimes people just don’t get along. I don’t personally think Buck’s a bad guy.”

“Then why do you always fight?”

“I don’t know.”

You two got to the compound and Peter went straight to Tony and Bruce who were in the lab. You went to look for Natasha who was on a step ladder changing a bulb. 

“Why are you changing a bulb? Doesn’t Vision usually do that?”

“He and Wanda… are on… and date,” she huffed trying to reach the screw.

“Do you need help?” you laughed at her struggling.

“Yeah, you’re taller than me right? You try.”

You stepped on the ladder with the bulb in hand reaching to screw it in. Steve and Bucky walked in coming up to you with concerned looks on their faces. You reached up and could barely fit the bulb in so you opted to stand on your toes. That very quickly went south however.  

You fell forward on Nat making the step ladder fly sideways from under you. She grabbed you and rolled you both so you would land on the floor with minimal injury. Steve and Bucky both widened their eyes rushing to you two lay laughing loudly on the floor.

“You guys ok?” Steve asked, grabbing the step ladder.

“Yeah we’re ok-” you cut off, your laughter immediately dying from Bucky grabbing your arm and pulling you up. He grabbed your face and checked to see if you might’ve scratched yourself. 

You pulled away confused.

“Why are you so fucking careless? Ask us next time,” Bucky growled.

“Careful Barnes, don’t want people to think you actually care for me,” you rolled your eyes.

That pissed off Bucky who lunged at you pushing your shoulders. You used your powers to expand a black ball of mist before thrusting it at Bucky making him stumble back. Nat and Steve dove in to stop what could be another potential disaster between you two.

“Can you two stop fighting for five fucking seconds?” Nat yelled. 

“He started it!” you shouted.

“Enough! Barnes, L/n. Asses in the conference room. Now,” Fury found you guys.

You looked at Buck, who had nostrils flared breathing heavily in anger. He was fuming; and for what? 

“You two have a mission,” Fury said when you two entered the conference room.

“Is that really the smartest thing to do. We don’t work well together,” Bucky said.

“The only thing smart about you is your mouth. Go on this mission, together. Any casualties will come out of your paycheck and field time.”

“What?” you both said in shock.

“I said what I said; wheels are up in 20.” 

You grabbed the files handed to you by Maria and walked to your rooms to pack. Nat came into your room to ask what happened. Same with Steve and Bucky.

“What happened?” Nat asked you.

=

“Fury, sent us on a mission,” Bucky told Steve.

=

“I can’t imagine how quickly shit will the fan. I can’t stand him!” you told Nat, talking about the upcoming mission.

=

“I can’t stand her.”

“Why?” Steve asked Buck.

=

“He’s so infuriating. Like everything pisses him off…”

=

“She’s always angry and wants to fight.”

=

“Do you think maybe you like him and you’re convincing yourself you don’t by being mean?” Nat asked you.

There was a long pause as you two stared at each other before you guys burst in laughter.

“Good one,” you laughed, “Anyways, I don’t know how long this mission is so I’ll see you when I get back.”

=

“I don’t know how long this mission is so I’ll see you when I get back,” Bucky said to Steve patting him on the shoulder. 

You both got to the quinjet, not even thinking about talking to each other. The file you both had basically said there was a fundraiser being held to mask an underground meeting for Hydra agents to meet in secret. 

Not a secret anymore though.

You two arrived at the hotel still haven’t spoken a word each. All that was heard in the elevator on your way up was both your breathing echoing off the metal walls. You got in and set your stuff on the couch. 

“We should set up a game plan,” you huffed.

“Ok,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes but began setting up what should be the tactic to approach the mission. You didn’t want to be too aggressive but being too stealth might take too long. Bucky came out of the bathroom after what seems to be having taken a shower. 

“Come up with anything yet?”

“No,” you responded.

“Seriously?” 

“What? It’s not like your fucking helping.”

“Watch your fucking attitude. I didn’t do anything so knock it off.”

“Whatever. Are you gonna help me or are you gonna sit there and watch me do all the work just to take credit?”

“Why would I take credit for your shitty plan that’s gonna get compromised.”

“Can you not be a dick for two seconds and be helpful for once?”

“I’m not helpful?” he stood up getting angrier every passing second. 

“God, Bucky get your head out of your ass! Stop taking everything so negatively; this is why I can’t stand you!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, princess,” Bucky walked up to you, pulling you close by wrapping his metal hand around your throat.

“Am I turning you on?” you mocked.

“Shut up!” 

“Or what? You’ll spank me?” you whispered.

“Fucking bitch,” Bucky said before smashing his lips to yours.

He pushed you down on the couch, kissing you burtally. Your lips were swelling as Bucky trailed rough kisses down your throat. You wanted to moan because Bucky’s rough hands touching your body was overwhelming. 

There was a harsh contrast between his hot flesh hand and his cold metal one. You finally gave in after feeling Bucky’s hard dick brushing against your thigh considering he still had only a towel around his waist from his shower. 

“Does that feel good? God you fucking slut; falling apart under a man you hate,” Bucky whispered roughly in your ear.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “Fuck you, Bucky.”

He lifted your shirt and you lifted your arms so he could take it off. You stood up and Bucky fell to his knees in front of you taking your pants while you unclasped your bra. 

Bucky let his poorly wrapped towel fall to the floor as he pushed you down roughly onto the couch once again. Bruising kisses were exchanged and Bucky’s hand traced your stomach following down to between your thighs.

He rubbed roughly but slowly at your clit making your hips wiggle under him. 

“Fucking stay still,” Bucky said. 

“God Bucky, I already don’t like you so teasing me will just make me fume.”

“Then I guess I’ll enjoy every second I get to tease you and pisssed you off.”

“Bucky,” you grunted bucking your hips into his roughly.

“Knock it off,” Bucky grabbed your throat, squeezing gently; sure he hated you and wanted you be quiet but he wasn’t trying to kill. 

“You want me to fuck this pussy? Want it rough? I’ll give it to you rough then,” Bucky said hoarsely, “I'll make you scream and cry from how good my cock is. I’m gonna ruin you, babygirl.”

You whimpered and nearly screamed when Bucky thrusted into you hard and fast. Your hands  held his forearms not in fear but to steady yourself when his hips started moving faster and faster. His hips dug into yours; you were getting sore already from his manic thrusts. 

You moaned loudly and Bucky kepting thrusting into you ferociously chasing his orgasm. You breached the edge yourself, tears forming in your eyes. You sniffled making Bucky look at you with the slightest bit of concern on his face. 

“Is it too much? I thought this is how you wanted it, you fucking cockwhore.”

“Ugh Bucky,” you moaned.

“Come on, Y/n. Cum. Let it go,” he said.

You nearly screamed in euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Bucky came inside you then collapsed on you knocking the air out of your system momentarily. You pushed him off then practically ran to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

Bucky came in you and you could feel the mixtures of both your cum dripping down your thighs. You were on the pill so you just cleaned yourself and quickly showered. When you came up Bucky had dressed himself and was writing stuff on a piece of paper; as if he hadn’t choked the shit out of ou and made you cum so hard you almost passed out. 

“I came up with a plan,” he said, so normally.

“Ok.”

“Look, Y/n-”

“This never happened. We don’t fucking like each other ok? If you tell goddamn soul I will rip you apart limb by limb.”

“Then you can’t tell anyone either,” he pushed.

“As if I’d tell anyone about this.”

“Are you that repulsed by me? Admit it! That the best sex either have had, probably ever.”

“Enough, Bucky. We hate each other.”

“But-”

“James, stop!” you yelled, quieting Bucky.

“Fuck you,” he said walking out.

“The plan’s on the table, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before going to sleep.

You breathed out heavily before grabbing the paper. There was little room to make mistakes but all in all it was a good plan. You went to your own bed seeing Bucky already asleep in the other. You turned off the light and prepared yourself for what was to come tomorrow.

TAGLIST FOR SERIES:

@hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sweetlikesugar9  @thefifthweasley @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @perfectlymaximumphilosopher @kenopsiababe  @montypythonsholysnail

[jenomark]

JANUARY

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Angst ➔Word count: 4,716

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

AUGUST SEPTEMBER OCTOBER NOVEMBER DECEMBER

Jaehyun sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, leaning back on his arms, his hair a tousled mess, and his eyes red from not sleeping well. Moving never agreed with him. He hated change and how hard it was to settle into newness. He aspired to keep things as they were, which was why he hardly shopped for new shirts or baseball caps. The older and more used things were, the happier they made him feel. He didn’t want to exist in a world where he had to pick out new things to decorate a new apartment with, to pretend like he cared about separate cutting boards, one for meat and the other for vegetables.

Maybe he was just tired of giving a shit altogether.

He sat for a while on the wood floor that was scuffed after having to move his furniture alone. He kicked a lone sheet of bubble wrap with his foot, trying his best just to pop a bubble with his big toe. He blew hot air out of his mouth and looked around, willing his brain not to stir up old memories.

His phone rang and he ignored the call, something he didn’t often do. Jaehyun was a social butterfly. He liked talking to people, and liked the attention at the other end of the call, the way someone could feel excited just by talking to him. He knew the people he loved would be worried about him, and he resented any of those feelings they might have.

“I’m a grown up, for fucks sake.” he had told his mother before he left to pack up his apartment on his own.

His mother didn’t raise an argument, just let her only son go. So, Jaehyun was left alone to pack up his whole life, or what was left of it. By the time he got to the apartment he used to share, more than half of the things were gone. He hadn’t realized how little material possessions he owned, or how easy it was to pack up what he did have.

Jaehyun got to his feet. He knew he had to make a move and look for a new apartment for one person. It really was time to grow up and be the man he always wanted to be. He took one last look around the apartment before he locked it up forever, crossing that threshold and only thinking about you once.

December

“-I cheated on you.” he said. “I cheated on you the night I went to the bar without you.”

He meant it to sting. He wanted to see how the realization would set in, how the relief would slowly be replaced by repulsiveness. Your pretty little face scrunched up with it until you opened your mouth to berate him. More than anything, he wanted you to blame him for ruining the relationship, to use him as an excuse for your own infidelity.

Instead, there was only relief. It made Jaehyun feel disappointed.

“Do I know her?” you asked.

“No.” Jaehyun said. “She was a stranger. That doesn’t matter. It was just one time”

He was lying through his teeth. Not the best liar, Jaehyun was surprised you bought it. You looked understanding, which made him want to hurt you, really hurt you. The fight left him as soon as you admitted defeat. It was easy to love you but harder to unlove you.

“I have something to confess.” you said, sounding as pathetic as you looked.

He didn’t always know that you were cheating with Doyoung. There was a time, in the beginning, he used to laugh behind Doyoung’s back at his little crush on you. It was like a game for Jaehyun to watch his roommate squirm any time you walked into the room. It gave Jaehyun a mental pat on the back to know that he could get someone like you, someone everyone else wanted, someone Jaehyun’s roommate could not get. Looking back on it, it was wrong of him to think like this. Like everyone else, he was still learning how to be a better human being. He thought it would just take time.

Jaehyun had many crushes throughout his life, so he could hardly blame Doyoung for what should have been an innocent crush. You were pretty special. In a lot of ways, Jaehyun wished he hadn’t taken you for granted so much, because there were aspects to the relationship that were so good for him. He felt stupid to lose them. Also, you were beautiful and the sex was some of the best he’d ever had.

He supposed that he became really suspicious the feelings weren’t unrequited around Halloween. Something felt off at the party, and it had nothing to do with his drinking. You glowed whenever you were around Doyoung, much brighter than he himself ever could make you. That was the profound moment, the one where he tried so hard to convince himself that it wasn’t true. He began to blame himself for thinking negatively. The guilt ate away at him, gnawing at him whenever he was alone with his thoughts.

“Should I be scared of this confession?” Jaehyun asked.

There was so much bitterness dripping from his voice, but he was trying his best to remain neutral. Seeing the way your face deflated made him feel sympathetic towards you, something he was learning that adults could do.

You nodded, the tears falling quietly.

“Say it.” Jaehyun said.

You looked at him. He would always remember the way you looked at him, and how he wished things had turned out differently. In your eyes, he could see how certain you were of the future, how sure you were with your own choices.

“I cheated on you, too.” you said.

Jaehyun didn’t react like you wanted him to, which threw everything off. Your expression was accusatory, and he could see that you were wondering if either of you ever loved each other to begin with.

“Do I know him?” he asked.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

Jaehyun shrugged. “What does that say about you?” He squeezed his fists down by his side to calm down. He tried a different approach and added, “We shouldn’t do this outside.”

He started walking towards the car, hoping you would follow, but you didn’t. He walked back to you, reaching out his hand to touch your arm.

“You knew.” you said, the realization dawning on you slowly. “You knew I cheated on you this whole time?”

Jaehyun let his hand fall down by his side. When he spoke, his voice was thick. “Yes, I knew.”

“Did you cheat on me because I cheated on you?”

“Let’s talk about it in the car, please.”

He started walking, but again, you didn’t follow. Frustrated, Jaehyun turned back around. He looked at the windows to make sure no one was watching the show. He didn’t need his mother or his little cousins knowing what a wreck his life could sometimes be. By then, all the steam had left him. He was no longer angry or bitter, just numb.

“Yes, I knew you cheated on me,” he said. “I didn’t cheat on you because you cheated on me. What level of petty do you think I am?”

“How long have you known?” you asked.

“Does it matter?”

You looked terrified and so small. Jaehyun had to resist the urge to scoop you up and hold you in the cold air. He was still an asshole, but he was becoming a sensitive asshole. He thinks that’s the moment where the true change began.

Slowly, you started walking towards him. You both made it back to the car, a place that was starting to feel too heavy for Jaehyun, too boxed in. Closing the car door blocked out all of the air and sound. It was just the two of you, one person silently crying and the other trying his best not to break down with you.

“Why him?” was all Jaehyun said.

It was a question that had been bugging him for a long time. Sure, Doyoung was more emotionally available. He was outwardly intelligent. His charms were many, and he wasn’t bad looking. He kept most of his promises and could have been a good friend in a past life. People never had the wrong idea about Doyoung when they first met him, either, not like they did with Jaehyun. Their opinion of Jaehyun wavered, but Doyoung always brought forth the same reaction. He was the man a mother could like. He was the one you fell in love with, the one who felt right from the start.

Jaehyun could feel the mood in the car turn even more sour. You didn’t know he also knew it was with Doyoung. Maybe you were going to convince him that it was someone unimportant, some random in a bar, just like his story.

“Am I that awful?” Jaehyun asked. “I know I haven’t been here for you a whole lot. Our relationship hasn’t been the best.”

You cried a little harder. “No, you’re not awful.”

“So, why? Why do this to me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good to know.” Jaehyun said, starting the car.

He drove away in silence, the only sound coming from the hum of the car. He dropped you off in front of his and Doyoung’s apartment. It was getting harder to remain feeling numb. As he sat in the car in front of his apartment, Jaehyun could feel every emotion flooding through his veins. He gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“I’m not coming inside,” he said. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay until both of you are out of my apartment. Take as long as you need.”

You got out of the car and came around to the side where Jaehyun’s window was open. He opened it to the cool night air in order to breathe in the freshness. It just ended up making him feel ice cold, inside and outside.

Jaehyun leaned out of it and said, “By the way, I never really cheated on you. I just said that to make you admit it. Thanks for saying it.”

The numbness returned and followed him around for roughly a month. You and Doyoung moved out within three days, not bothering to stew in feelings of guilt, like he wanted you to. Jaehyun didn't know what to do with himself, after that.

He would walk in and out of Doyoung’s empty room in the apartment, thinking up memories of you two fucking where Doyoung used to keep his bed. It was tortuous and stupid, and it helped no one in the long run, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying to draw emotions out of the pit of his belly.

Not seeing you had made it harder for him to move on. He thought about going to see you at your job, to casually stop by where he knew your group of work friends would be, but there were people in his life who always talked him out of it. He just wanted to feel something, anything at all.

His own work friends suggested he hook up with random strangers, but he never actually had it in him to go out and do it. Building any kind of relationship with someone wasn’t a great idea, even if it made him feel like he was getting some kind of sexual revenge on you. Walking around his half-empty apartment wasn’t the best choice either, but it helped him pass the time.

He didn’t get to tell you, but it was Doyoung that eluded him to the affair. When Jaehyun had asked him to take care of you, he had never seen someone so confident in his ability to do so. There was love in that man's eyes, a love that can only be felt when the person you love loves you right back. A little after that, when Jaehyun really looked at you and saw you, he confirmed that something serious was going on.

In a way, Jaehyun hoped it was just sex. He could take it if you and Doyoung were sneaking off just to fuck each other when he was at work. Adding love into the mix hurt him a little more, made him aware of the things he lacked.

So, back and forth he went like that across the apartment. He did things he wasn’t proud of. He blamed himself and didn’t blame anyone else but you. He cursed your name in the darkness. He took his aggression out on Doyoung, even going so far as to ring up his work and tell them Doyoung was thinking about quitting. It really was petty, which maybe he definitely was being, but it wasn’t anything he couldn't correct himself for. He was trying. He really was.

Jaehyun took the last box from the top of the stairs, carrying it down in his arms like a delicate baby. On the side of the fridge, the only thing he wasn’t taking with him, was a calendar marking the end days in January. He thought of the next tenants moving in, and how they’d throw it out without hesitation. Maybe they’d have a more solid year ahead of them than he felt he did.

He couldn’t believe how fast time was moving, and he willed it to just slow down long enough for him to catch his breath. Soon enough, it would be February, and he’d have been single for nearly two months. The thought of spending his birthday alone made him sick to his stomach.

He walked down the stairs, looking into the box to see an old picture frame belonging to you on top. It was one your dad had taken of you as a child at the zoo. You were in shorts, your knobby knees sticking out, and your missing-toothed smile making him want to smile back. Jaehyun kept it in his room because it reminded him from time to time of you, of how one person can come into his life and change it all.

Jaehyun didn’t just want to throw it out, so he kept it with him until he moved. He didn’t know what to do with it now, but he figured he should probably return it. You’d want that photograph more than he did, but just barely.

After feeling like he wanted the whole world against you, Jaehyun started to refocus his attention on self-care and self-love. Slowly, he began to unpack his own responses to things, how he could choose to act better in every situation, and how the only person holding him back from a better life was him.

He began to feel better, too. It wasn’t going to cure him, but it was worth a start. He couldn’t stop the pessimism from reaching inside of his shirt and clawing at his bare skin, but he could change some things that didn’t serve him.

When he reached the outside, his heart a little raw from seeing your childhood photo, his mother was waiting for him in her car. Sometimes a momma's boy just needed his momma. He placed the box in the backseat and slid into the passenger seat.

“Are you ready?” she asked, patting his knee.

“I am.”

Bars felt comfortable because they were noisy. He would go to one after work, order a drink and sip on it until he felt tired and went home. He wasn’t there to get drunk or to meet new people. Sometimes, he caught up with his work friends. Other times, he sat there alone, chit-chatting to the bartender on duty. He laughed when things were funny. He let his foot tap away against the floor when the music was good.

“Is this seat taken?”

A pretty girl was standing hesitantly in front of the chair next to him. Jaehyun smiled and shook his head no. She sat down beside him, bringing her purse on her lap and looking at him with curiosity.

“I see you here a lot.” she said.

“Ahh,” Jaehyun said. “I think that’s my cue to stop coming every day. I swear, I’m not an alcoholic.”

Her eyes widened, afraid that she had offended him. “I didn’t mean-”

“-I’m kidding.” Jaehyun said. "It's a joke."

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jaehyun pushed his empty glass away from him and swiveled his chair to face her more. She looked self-conscious with the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. Jaehyun felt too awkward, so he turned his chair back around.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

“No.” She said, “I came to talk to you because you looked lonely.”

To that, Jaehyun didn’t know what to say. Instead, he ordered another drink and let her talk his ear off. She talked about everything and nothing the whole night. Jaehyun partly listened and partly let his mind wander. She was nice and interesting enough, but he wasn’t ready to start talking to other women in a way that suggested sex or relationships.

He could have used a friend. He would have liked to have found a friend in her, but she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him in that way when her hand found her way to his thigh. She moved it upward with each word she spoke, her fingertips dangerously close to fondling him.

“This was fun.” Jaehyun said, feeling the buzz of alcohol running through his system. “Unfortunately, I have work early tomorrow and need a full night's rest. See you sometime?”

The girl looked taken aback at the sudden change of events. Jaehyun got up from his chair, said goodnight to her and sauntered out of the door. He hadn’t even realized they didn’t exchange names.

Jaehyun decided to walk home. The night was cold in the way winter was, but manageable. His jacket kept him warm enough, and if his bones chilled, he hardly noticed. He watched people as he walked, watched them happily walking along the sidewalks and dipping into whatever door they fancied. Slowly, he began to smile and feel more at ease, but maybe it was the alcohol making him feel that way. Or maybe it was a sudden feeling that maybe everything could be alright, only if he allowed it.

He woke up and he was drooling. Jaehyun lifted his head from the pillow, looking to his left and right. There was a knocking sound that felt like it was coming from inside of his head. He hadn’t been that tipsy last night, so he knew a hangover was not the cause. He lifted himself up from the bed in his mothers spare bedroom and threw his legs over the side of his bed.

The knocking continued, more feverishly than before. Jaehyun ignored it and picked up his phone to see if he had any missed calls. There were none.

“I’m coming!” Jaehyun yelled when the final knocks were more forceful. He muttered to himself,” Fucking fuck.”

He walked across the room before realizing he was shirtless. He grabbed a dirty t-shirt from the floor and brought it over his head, letting the hem of it meet his sweatpants. In case it was one of his mothers snooty friends, he looked in the mirror and cleaned up his messy hair. He didn’t need anyone judging him for sleeping past noon on a weekend.

“Coming.” Jaehyun called again.

He walked out of the spare bedroom that was just to the left of the living room and ducked down to see if he could recognize the person standing on the porch. Or rather, people. He saw just a flip of hair before he ran behind the door and held his hand to his chest to get his heart to stop beating.

Doyoung’s voice was low and quiet, but Jaehyun could hear everything he said. “We’ll come back later. He's not home.”

Jaehyun didn’t have to hear your voice to know that you were there, too , that the hair he saw belonged to you. It was dyed a darker color, but it was unmistakably you. Yet, hearing the sound of your voice made his toes curl underneath him. He didn’t think seeing you so soon after the breakup would help him.

“He’s home.” you said, your voice somewhat impatient.

It was smart of you to come when his mother was at work. He thought you might have purposely done it this way, to avoid any more awkwardness. After all, Jaehyun’s mother was sure to ride for her son, to take a look at both of them standing on the porch and curse them out. At that imagery, Jaehyun smiled to himself.

“I don’t know.” Doyoung said, his voice nervous. "Should we be bothering him like this? It's too soon."

Jaehyun backed away from the door. He wondered if he had time to run back into the bedroom and get himself more presentable. He wanted you to see what you had been missing out on. He was a handsome guy, definitely one worth giving a second look to. He suddenly wished he had taken that girl at the bar home and fucked her, so that he could talk to you and Doyoung and have her walk out of the bedroom naked, unaware of what was going on. He'd love to see the look on your face then.

No, Jaehyun thought to himself. I should appear wounded. I am wounded.

The unkempt hair and slightly red-rimmed eye look was working in his favor. Before giving it another thought, Jaehyun whipped open the front door to his mothers house and faced them both down. He kept his face stoic, his voice even. “Can I help you?”

It was Doyoung who spoke first, his voice not as sharp as usual. “You have something of hers. She was wondering if she could have it back.”

“Can she speak for herself?” Jaehyun asked.

The whole time Doyoung was speaking, Jaehyun kept his eyes on you. It was a mistake to do so. There was nothing more heartbreaking than to see how well you were surviving. Your skin was glowing and flawless. Your new hair made you look mature in a way that was sure to make everyone notice you. You were dressed in nice clothes that matched Doyoung’s vibe. Jaehyun couldn't stop the jealousy from taking root in his soul.

“She can.” you said, speaking for yourself. “You have my picture and I’d like it back. Do you, by any chance, have it here?”

Jaehyun wasn’t really listening. He was looking into your eyes, daring himself to get lost in them. Maybe it was the fact that you were unattainable now, but it made him want you all over again. It was hard to let you go.

“Are you two dating now?” Jaehyun asked.

All three were silent, even Jaehyun. As soon as he spoke the words, he began to wish they’d stuff themselves back inside of his mouth. Jaehyun tried to recover and said, “That’s none of my business. Of course, I have your photo. I’ll get it.”

In their faces, Jaehyun shut the front door. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He clawed at his own neck and willed himself to breathe. He walked through his mom's house and went down to the basement where he was temporarily storing his belongings. Apartment hunting was going decently well, but he found out he could hardly afford more than a pot to piss in by himself. Having his mother support him had been a blessing, but it wasn’t easy.

After rifling through some boxes, he found the photo in question. The first few days he spent with his mother, he kept it on his bedside table. When he realized it was causing him too much pain, he brought it down to the basement with the rest of his things. He never thought you would come back to get it, or to remember it, or to show your face at his mother's house.

When Jaehyun opened the front door back up, you were gone. Doyoung stood, his eyes struggling to make eye contact. Jaehyun opened the screen door wide and handed the photograph in its frame to Doyoung.

“If you’re here to apologize, don’t bother.” Jaehyun said. “I’m over it.”

It was a lie, one too obvious for either to believe. Doyoung’s grace allowed him to let it go, to open his mouth and shut it right away. Jaehyun sat down on one of the porch chairs and motioned for Doyoung to do the same. Jaehyun shot a look in the direction of where you waited in a car, his face not betraying what he was feeling inside.

“I’ve been thinking about what I should say to you,” Jaehyun said. “But I’ve come up with nothing. All of that anger, and it still feels like I’m a fool with no way to defend myself.”

“You’re not a fool.” Doyoung said.

“You make me a fool by saying that.” Jaehyun said. “I’m a fool who was cheated on and too stupid to realize it, even with my suspicions. By my best friend, of all people.”

“Was I your best friend?” Doyoung asked. He sounded surprised, a little annoyed.

Jaehyun didn’t have an answer for that. Before, he would have answered it quickly. Of course you were my best friend. You were my roommate, my punching bag, and my buddy when all else failed. He had let Jaehyun’s lady live there because he was a nice guy, not because he was secretly in love with her. At that thought, Jaehyun chuckled darkly.

“Maybe not.” Jaehyun said. “It seems I never really had either relationship in the first place.”

“You didn’t want me to apologize.”

“No,” Jaehyun said. “It doesn’t do any good. I could apologize for not being the best boyfriend, but it didn’t matter. I could apologize for being a shitty roommate, maybe a friend, but you would still have made your choices.”

Doyoung played with the ring on his finger. He looked down at the frame in his hands, at the sweet girl looking back at him. “I owe you transparency.”

Jaehyun waited a long time for Doyoung to speak again. He was patient and channeling maturity. All he wanted to do, really, was go back inside and go back to sleep. Still, he waited and looked at Doyoung. When Doyoung didn’t speak fast enough, Jaehyun had to speak his mind. If he didn't, it would bother him too much.

“You’re dating her, yes?”

“Yes.” Doyoung said.

“In love?”

“Yes.”

“For a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel bad about it?”

“About loving her? No.” Doyoung said. “About hurting you? Yes. I did consider us some type of friends.”

“Not the type that doesn’t steal his boy's girlfriend, huh?”

The dig might have hurt Doyoung but Jaehyun couldn’t tell. Doyoung stood up, deciding that he’d had enough of the conversation. Jaehyun followed, rising to his feet in a way that desperately made him want to appear calm and cool.

“I’ll make this quick, since I have to go.” Doyoung said. “I don’t want to lose you in my life, Jaehyun.”

“Fuck you.” Jaehyun said, the words slipping out.

Doyoung’s lips parted. “I deserve that.”

“And her? Does she want to lose me?”

“I can’t speak for her, but no, she doesn’t.”

“Fuck right off.” Jaehyun opened his screen door. “A timeline where my girlfriend cheats on me with my roommate and they come back because they don’t want to lose me? Unbelievable.”

“Believe it.” Doyoung said.” Because it’s true. She won’t admit it, but there is something codependent about you two. About me, as well. Sometimes I feel like life isn’t the same without you in it. Actually, I know it’s not.”

Jaehyun shook his head as Doyoung turned to go. “I didn’t expect this. I wasn't prepared.”

Doyoung threw his hands in the air. “Me neither. I’ve learned not to expect anything anymore. Life is fucked. I'm trying my best to unfuck myself.”

Doyoung walked down the steps and back towards the car. Jaehyun watched him go, pausing way too long before going inside of the house and closing the door behind him.

[prose-for-hire]

Life’s not a movie

Pairing: Spike x fem!chubby!reader

Request: Hello if your requests are still open...how about spike with a chubby reader who is 24 and still a virgin and she is shy and depressed but tries to hide it by acting happy go lucky. She loves his poems and is a good friend to him but she secretly loves him and she finally confesses her feelings to him and he kisses her and it's her first kiss? Maybe they are having a night out as friends which turns into a date when she tells him, and that's how they end up kissing?

Requested by: Anon

A/N: Hey, so I wanted to simplify reader’s personality a little because not everyone will be able to access something so specific. 

Warnings: Mention of sex. I’ve written her a little insecure about her weight (only vaguely mentioned once) and being a virgin/having not kissed anyone (hope that’s okay).

💖 Don’t worry if you haven’t had these experiences yet either, everyone has their own time for everything !! 💖

You and Spike were walking from opposite directions, with the other on your minds. Things with Spike were nice, he made you feel more human. Which, of course was ironic, because he wasn’t even a little bit human. In physicality, at least.

You smiled when you saw him, giving him a little wave. He enjoyed the way your chubby form didn’t appear to make you second-guess yourself. You appeared confident and more so when he was by your side. He especially liked the way you lit up the area you were in, always so cheery when you greeted him. On the surface, at least.

You were very good friends, so good that everyone already just presumed that you were dating. You spent most evenings with him, sometimes watching crappy tv and other evenings reading while Spike wrote poetry.

Some evenings, if you were really lucky, he would let you read them. Only a few he selected (he was very secretive about certain poems you couldn’t see as they were too intimate). You always gushed about how much you loved them, smiling and rereading them - trying to memorise them. 

He wished he could read to you the ones he had hidden sometimes. They spoke of deep, unrequited feelings that longed to be free. Feelings for you. Alas, you had never initiated anything or so much as hinted similar feelings. Besides, he enjoyed having you to himself as a friend at least and couldn’t bear to jeopardise this so he just hadn’t acted on it.

You were meeting to go to the Bronze, neither of you realised the feelings the other harboured, but it didn’t stop you both wanting to spend every waking minute with each other. He loved your tummy. Sometimes you felt perhaps a little too big but to him that was a ridiculous thought. You appeared so soft he often imagined himself wrapping his arms around you and resting a hand there. Maybe rubbing his hand sooothingly while you were watching one of those movies he allowed you to pick from the rental store. He was thinking about this as you both sat down and had realised that he was staring at you. Again. 

When you both sat down in a booth, he tried his best not to make his loving gaze so obvious - he had a reputation to uphold after all. To make himself feel better, he moved the conversation to something else. He asked about your younger friends, the Scoobies. He did this often, sometimes to try and figure out if they still thought of him as a threat and other times just because it amused him to hear of the often tumultuous teenage drama that the Slayer and her gang got caught up in. 

They were doing their coursework tonight, Willow had called it a study-over - the priority was work, not sleep apparently. You were a lot older than them, having met them by coincidence. You got on with them well, but they were a bit younger than you (and they liked to tell you to stay away from spike a lot). You explained what they were up to to Spike, making him snort at how lame the group that used to ruin all of his evil plots were.

“People at that age should be out shagging anything that bloody moves - not sitting in memorising facts about historical events” He saw you shift slightly uncomfortably and paused, before asking, “What? You don’t agree, love?”

“No- it’s, uh, not that-” You say softly, trying to make your mouth stop forming words. But that plan went out of the window as you started to squirm under his stare and continue bashfully, “I, uh, haven’t actually…”

“What?” he asked, not letting it go. his eyes boring into yours. You sighed, deciding to just say it. Like ripping off a plaster.

“I haven’t had sex, Spike. Okay?” there was an edge to your voice as you snapped, clearly embarrassed.

“That’s alright, love... you, uh, don’t have to do anythin’ you’re not wantin’-” he started to reassure you, still confused as he knew the feelings he had for you - so he knew others must have had such feelings over the years.

“That’s not the problem, I want to have sex I just haven’t- haven’t found anyone. Or, well, no one’s found that they like me…”

“Bollocks!” he cut you off abruptly, “Life’s not a movie, pet… it’s not one of those girly flicks you watch when you think I’m sleepin’ in the afternoon... Life can be messy, it can’t be predicted, no matter what the magic voodoo types ‘round here think… so bloody what if you haven’t shagged a bloke yet-?”

“Spike! You’re talking too loud! People are looking!”

“So fucking what? She’s a virgin!” He said louder, but nobody was really paying much attention to either of you, or they at least had enough manners to act as if they hadn’t before you looked up to check, “Who bloody cares?”

“Me spike. I care” You mutter, embarrassment permeating through every pore, “I haven’t even- I haven’t even kissed anyone” you hissed, deciding you might as well get everything out into the open.

“But you’ve been on a date?” He askedslowly, a little frown. You shook your head, no. He was confused. Someone like you he was convinced someone would have taken you out years ago. You were smart, funny and very sweet. He had been convinced you had a boyfriend and cursing this imaginary man as he had been missing you recently. Not realising that you had been trying to sort through your feelings for him.

He shrugged, looked you in the eyes, grabbed your hands from across the table and knew exactly what he needed to do.

“Let’s make this a date then”

“No- Spike you don’t-” you started to 

“No arguments. I want to, love. Beautiful woman on my arm for the entire evening – make all the buggers jealous and you can say you’ve been on a date” He grinned, as if this hadn’t been an in-the-moment decision. He moved around the table making sure not to give you any room. Sitting beside you and watching your every move. He leaned in, moving his hand from yours to the small of your back as he whispered into your ear.

“Drink?” he asked, just the one word making the hair on the back of your neck raise as you shivered, hoping that he didn’t notice as he got up from his seat.

“Yeah - please. Could I have-”

“I know my girl’s order” he said with a wink. You smiled not able to help yourself enjoying the interaction but a light frown on your brow as he walked off. He exhaled an unneeded breath as he went, thinking about what he had just said, about how he wished you were his.

You continued to frown a little, mulling over how he could switch to flirting so easily. It worried you, how easily he could pretend. He had very obvious feelings for you, but you took it as him feeling sorry for you.

When he returned, he set your favourite drink in front of you before he slipped his hand back over yours, resting it there gently. He was ecstatic, he had been dreaming of becoming closer to you for a while now and he finally had a chance, even if it was under the guise of a friend helping a friend out.

You stayed there for a little while, Spike making small talk asking you questions that he tried to pretend weren’t probing as you sat together before your insecurity got the better of you.

“I do-don’t think I can do this. It’s too hard” You say suddenly, looking down at his hand on yours. You released your hand from his and getting up to leave. He takes your wrist, pulling you back to him but your face tells him he needs to let go. Hot tears were threatening to spill and a thick lump in your throat almost choking you. He was confused, why were you reacting that way? Was he that repulsive to you?

You move to get some fresh air, each intake of the cold night having you wishing that you could just swallow up Sunnydale in its entirety. Take it from the map and leave a crater in it’s place. No more embarrassment, no more admitting that you’re a virgin. That nobody had even appeared to want to kiss you before. That you had never had the confidence to make a move yourself. A happy coincidence being that if you swallowed the town there would be no more hell mouth and demons.

You could start fresh, nobody feeling sorry for you or pretending to care to make you feel better. You appreciated Spike and what he had been trying to do. Helping out a friend. But you so desperately wanted him your heart had started to ache with every accelerated beat.

He had followed you, taking your jacket from where it had been draped on the chair behind you that you had left when you got up. He draped it over your large shoulders, his hand lingering on your back before moving.

 “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked quietly, leaning against the wall as you stared into the night. You shook your head, there was a pause before everything started to bubble over and your feelings started to tumble from your mouth.

“It’s like those poems you write, Spike. The feelings you conjure I can’t fake. I like you and this is cruel, almost worse than having never been on a date because I want it to be real and it’s just not it-it’s theatre. It’s you feeling pity – just helping out a friend-” you rushed out, each word crashing into the next.

“Hey, slow down, pet” He halted you, “Bloody motor-mouth” he muttered, with a shake of his head.  A ghost of a smile on your lips. He often called you that, but for gushing about something you really enjoyed. It was a term of endearment, “That – in there was the most honest I’ve been with you. I wanted all of that… I wanted more” he admitted softly. The same voice he reserved for discussing the most romantic feelings his poetry had revealed.

He knew you had been platonic for a long time, missing all of the signs that you liked him back until now. He looked at you, a silent conversation between you. You could almost hear his mind screaming out for you as he pulled you into him.

His eyebrow quirked, ensuring he hadn’t read the wrong signals. If he was honest, he had been waiting for this for a very long time. Since before even your friendship had suddenly developed he had that feeling of concentrated affection for you that he knew was leading to this. He could only hope that this was where it could end up.

You barely started to nod your approval before he pulled you crashing your mouth into his. He kissed you hungrily, your soft lips a beautiful sensation that had only been fantasy until recently. Despite the evident passion, there was an undercurrent of understanding. A hint of sweet amongst it all that told you it was still spike, the man that had written those words. Words that now made perfect sense. His poetry only now making sense to you as you felt it. You were connected to him so intimately and you were sure his poetry had now been about affection for you. You couldn’t fake something like this.

The kiss was special, you had thought you would be nervous, unsure what you were doing as it was so new to you. But it was perfect, your lips moving with his in a way that you were sure meant this was destiny. All of the stars aligning and pointing towards the spot that you were kissing under. 

You realised that you hadn’t been doing anything with your hands, they had been suspended in mid-air as if you were worried to reach and contact his skin your hands would go straight through him, revealing that he was merely a spectre. This moment being too good to be true. You were half convinced that he would be a hallucination, not corporeal to the touch. 

It was like a dream, but it was better than any you had ever thought up. His skin on yours. The way he lingered against your chubby curves in adoration, as if he had never been allowed to touch something so precious. The kiss deepened and you didn’t have time to worry if you were doing anything right, you were wrapped up in how good this felt. The heightened feelings mingling with just how much you cared for the vampire that was now press himself against you as close as he could physically get.

One of his hands had been in your hair, the other at your hip until he realised your hands hadn’t touched him. He smirked into the kiss, remembering that you hadn’t done this before. His hands moved, gliding along your soft skin, leaving goose-bumps as he made his way to where your hands were still tentatively waiting to catch up with your brain. He moved your hands and guided you to rest on him, his eyes scrutinising your face as he did.

You smiled, breathless, wrapping your arms around him further and nestling to rest your head on his shoulder. He ran his hands along your shapely form before resting against your waist. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his body under your hands. Neither of you had to say anything. You knew it was the start of something, it was rising in both of your chests.

That kiss was definitely worth the wait.

[colorfullfalls]

Adore you

Summary: Sam and Emily finally get to their wedding day. The outside venue is beautiful and everything is in order except for the fact that Embry and you are fighting.

La Push, ah. What a wonderful- dare say mystical place to be. Waves roared violently against the beach, crashing roughly into the minuscule pieces of sand. Rain pelted among the ground, mixing with ocean, grass, sand, skin, and materials. Clothes stuck to russet toned flesh, sticking like a temporary tattoo for a child.

Panting hard, Embry Call's hands reached up his hands to pushed back Y/N's hair away from her neck, peeling the thick mop away to rest on the other side. Her eyes refused to meet his, wavering to look at the waves. She wished she was anywhere on Earth but in front of him. The way he looked at her hurt. His face held the upmost gaze of betrayal, beautiful brown orbs burning you from the inside out.

Behind her ear held the mark that would cause wretching heartache. A dainty black tattoo rested, rooting anger between the two. Tattoos were meant to be meant to have a deep meaning, and her's did. It was a sail boat. A symbol for the sea. Vast area of the unknown that humans did not get the privledge of ruining. Getting their hands and tainting the beauty it beheld. Embry did not mind her logic behind it, nor did he dislike her love for the sea. But the tattoo. He hated it. Disgust curled in his stomach, gripping his ribs like quicksand and pulling. He wanted to scream.

"You lied."

His words came off venomously. A snake's bite. Harsh syllables announciated with distrust. And pain. Mostly pain. You bit your lip to stop it from trembling. Crying would not solve the issue that was present because you betrayed him. Broke his heart a bit when you swore to guard it and protect the beautiful organ.

"I'm sorry, Embry. It was impulsive-"

He cut you off by shriveling back by your words. A cold laugh escaped his lips, "Damn right it was impulsive. Must've been if you couldn't have talked to me about it."

Fighting over a tattoo seemed dumb. But not in this situation. Embry was not mad that you got a tattoo. It was that the sailboat was your first tattoo. Years ago you promised Embry at the ripe age of 13 that you two would get your first one together. You a small sun and him a small moon. Both on your hips so that it would be a private thing. The ultimate proclamation of love. It was obvious as kids that you two were meant to be, even before you were his imprint. You were raised as best friends. Learned together. Aged together. Grew as individuals together. When the promise was made and 13 you had not yet been lovers, but it was a promise as two beings connected molecularly as best friends.

Even dating you two were still best friends. No one understood you like Embry, and no one ever would. His corny jokes made you laugh so hard that snorts would skip out of your nose. His hugs melted you to the bones. He made you feel complete. Best friends turned lovers, but best friends still for eternity.

"I didn't tell you to avoid this! I knew a fight would ensue." You cried out helplessly, feeling incredibly guilty but defensive at the same time.

"Why do it then? Or maybe consider taking to me about it, telling me at the least. You hid this for, well, it has to have been a while. Clearly healed." He deadpanned, pointing to it like it cut his foot off.

"It's been three weeks, Em."

His eyes lit up in realization, "You wouldn't have sex with me in the daylight. I figured it was just odd timing but no. Just blatantly lying to me to cover this up."

Tears welled in your eyes at how removed your gentle boyfriend was. You didn't recognize the person in front of you. Not that you didn't fully deserve it, but it still stung to see the love of your life so repulsed by your actions. Your female best friend convinced you to get one with her when her long time girlfriend broke her heart. She said she needed it to heal. And you. Against your better judgement, your ass was in a leather chair while a needle plunged relentlessly into your skin. You loved her and wanted to be there for her. Your mind was foggy when it happened due to a few drinks in you too.

Your best friend knew that you and Em talked about getting tattoos together, but she didn't know it was such a sacred vowel or else she never would have helped you break it. She got an eye that had a ring around it like a planet on her forearm. She was an artist and drew it up herself. It meant a lot to her. You loved her, but now you were paying for the actions.

"Y/bff/n made you get this?"

"What?! No! Of course not. I willingly did it, but a few drinks were in me. Which doesn't excuse it, but she got one too. Not like marching or anything..."

Embry stared.

You scrambled to get in as much as you could without interruption, "Wholeheartedly my heart is pounding with guilt that I broke our pact to get our first tattoo together. But to be fair you already have yours."

Embry shook his head in disbelief, "Are you fucking me right now? It wasn't my choice to get this. It's membership into the pack, Y/N. My culture."

You sighed, "I know that Embry, and I'm not trying to disrespect that. I love you and the pack. I love your culture. Undoubtedly it's your first tattoo though. We can get our second together."

You tried to grab his hand but he pulled it away, searing a burn mark right into your heart. Rain pelted down even harder. What had been a nice beach date went to hell when Embry went to move your hair back to kiss your neck when he saw it. Usually you could dodge his attempts to get close to there, but you were so blissed out by his intoxicating kisses that your mind wasn't all there. Ironically the weather went to shit as soon as fighting began.

"Don't touch me. I don't want to hurt you." What you failed to notice earlier was that his hands were shaking. Typically you could caress his bicep or face and he would melt into you. Today the same touches would have the opposite effect. No matter how angry he was, he was terrified to harm you. Any wound inflicted by him would drive him crazy. He loved you. Forever. Even when he was furious he was cautious to keep you safe. This only made you feel worse.

"I think I rather have you physically hurt me than you be angry with me." You mumbled, sniffling at how bad you just wanted to touch him.

He snarled. His veins bulged as he pointed at you, "Shut up! How dare you wish for something like that?"

"I don't wish for that. I'm just saying us fighting is unbearable!"

"You just said you rather me hurt you physically! You want scars like Emily? You want me to be in withering pain and agony as you bleed on the floor?!" He bellowed, shaking even worse.

You let out a sob at his words. This all escalated too quickly. His eyes softened momentarily at your cry but his anger got the best of him as he reminded himself why you were crying. He scrambled to throw his clothes off. His body contorted until his grey wolf stood tall in front of you.

It whimpered, but turned and booked it for the woods. Leaving you alone with his clothes, the rain, guilt, heartache, and the beach. You slid down to your knees, clutching his shirt to your chest.

Emily's wedding was tomorrow. She would look gorgeous in her wedding dress, smile beaming with every step down the aisle towards her wolf. Laughs, happy tears, and hugs would be shared between the wedding and reception. Of course dancing would be a necessity. You were unsure if you were going to be involved in their experience anymore. The pack loved you. You were one of them. But with Embry so upset and not knowing when you two would makeup, maybe it was for the best if you stayed home.

Half an hour later you were still on the beach crying. Jacob ran next to you, scooping you up in his strong arms. You snuggled into his warmth, wishing that it was Embry instead. After everything you still wanted him to be with you. Jacob took you home and helped you dry off before leading you into the shower to encourage you to take a hot shower. If you got sick Embry wouldn't be happy with his packmate.

He sat in the livingroom as you got dressed in the bathroom. You sheepishly walked out, embarrassed of the state he had found you in. His large frame took up the lounge chair. Two cups of hot tea sat on the coffee table.

"For me?" You asked, gesturing to the cup. He picked one up and handed it to you before taking his own. It felt good going down your throat. Warm and reassuring.

"Embry should not have phased like that. He feels like an ass for losing control like that." Jake began.

"He had enough control to strip first. I wasn't in danger." You assured.

Jake nodded, "I saw the whole fight go down. I was on patrol."

You laughed sadly. Poor Jacob had to relive Embry's anger and pain through the shared pack bond. He seemed to not be effected by it. You wondered how Embry was doing now. Texting him seemed like a bad idea. Especially with how things were left.

"It was an ugly fight. Worst one to date. His eyes held repulsion, Jake. Like he could barely look at me. This tattoo is giving me hell."

Jake sighed, motioning for you to come sit next to him. You squeezed into the chair with him, resting on his lap. Jake was like your brother that would help you through anything. His warm hand rubbed your back lightly to assure you that he was there. He would always be there.

"Life is weird and there's a lot that I don't know. What I do know is that if anyone is meant to be together, it's you two. Bonded and meant to be before he even shifted. Imprints are strong but you two are even more. This fight is a pebble that will chip away, I promise."

"Thanks but I don't know. He looked crushed. Phasing like that.. showing up to the wedding tomorrow might not be good. I'm not going."

Jake recoiled, "What? Of course you have to attend! Emily wants you there. Screw Embry. Tomorrow is about Sam and Emily and they certainly need you there. You're family."

"Don't say screw him." You mumbled. Feeling defensive was part of the bond, "I will think about it."

Jake ignored you scolding him because he understood the loyalty you felt for Embry. He felt the same exact way towards Reneesme. Rough times caused fighting like any other couple, but the bond required unconditional love and affection. Some portrayed it as toxic, but you didn't. Relationships typically didn't happen like this but you couldn't stay mad at Embry while growing up. It was an impossible defeat.

"You're a bridesmaid, not going would be terrible. Embry wants you there whether he admits it right now or not. I'll come pick you up, make sure you go."

You sighed, nodding. Lack of your presence would only cause a bigger rift between you two. On top of that, Emily would be crushed and that would make Sam frustrated towards you too. And that would lead to arguing between Sam and Embry because another wolf cannot be rude to an imprint. You helped plan this wedding and you deserved to be there. Jake was giving you big puppy dog eyes. Begging like Embry did. Begging that you could not deny.

"Fine."

Jake stood up, "I will see your pretty face tomorrow."

***

Hours later you laid in bed. Ceiling fan high blast cooling the room. Goosebumps danced across your skin, chilling you more than it should. Embry's warm embrace should've sheltered you from the breeze, making the ceiling fan actually necessary compared to his radiating heat. He wasn't with you tonight. You were alone. Restless. Where did he go if he didn't come home to you? Was he on Jared's couch? Sharing Quil's bed like he did when they were kids? Back home with his mom?

Phone screen said 2:41. Four hours after you laid down. Sleep was battling you, heart beating too fast with each memory of the argument. His hurt tone rang through your ears. Past text messages assured you that things would get better between you two. His corny jokes and memes made joy fill you.

This fight was dumb.

Your thumbs typed out all the words you wanted to say and you were about to send it you saw three dots meaning that he was typing too. He was reaching out too! The three dots dissapeared with a lack of text. Mood officially dampened. Who knew texting could be an emotional roller coaster.

Hours later your ass was seated in an uncomfortable chair while your hair was being done. Makeup had been applied an hour ago and you already wanted it off. Your upset hands liked to rest on your face and makeup didn't allow that. Emily and the other girls were chirpy. Gorgeous teeth on show from beaming. You did your best to match their mood. Key word, tried.

"Okay, you're hair is done. Go get in your dress!" Emily cooed, hands on either side of your shoulder. You offered a smile.

Putting on the dress took help from Leah. She was in a sour mood. Her first love getting married to her cousin and all. It was reasonable and truly expected. She may be a shape shifter, but human she still was. Her warm hands zipped up the back of the dress. Leah sensed your bad vibe like second nature.

"Go find Embry, makeout for a minute and get over with whatever the hell this is. It's ridiculous. You two are disgustingly in love. Fix it because it's dragging us all down." Her words were honest. Leah was always honest. Basically in her DNA.

You snorted, "We are not making out here. Im sorry that this is impacting you guys too, but this is not getting dealt with today. Emily and Sam are getting married."

"Won't be perfect if our favorite couple is on the outs."

"Favorite couple?" You questioned.

She nodded as if her sentence was as obvious as stating that the vast sky was blue. You rolled your eyes and moved the bottom of the dress so that it was in place. The light pink silk dress suited you. It suited all of the bridesmaids. Nice dress. Emily had great taste. Speaking of the devil, Emily walked around the corner. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of you and Leah. As if it wasnt her wedding day. As if she wasn't the most stunning looking woman for the day.

"Gorgeous! Oh my goodness, you both look amazing. Thank you for sharing this day with me," her eyes shifted to her Leah, "Especially you, Leah. I know I don't deserve your support considering what happened on your wedding day, but it means the world to me that you are here."

"Yep." Leah gave a tight smile. Emily's face fell at the lack of words from her cousin. You sighed and nudged Leah. She rolled her eyes but tried, "This isn't easy but I'm doing it. For you."

Emily closed the distance between them and pulled her cousin in for a hug. Tension resides and still would for a while, but the bond was slowly mending. Cousin like sisters trying to reconnect. It was hard when Leah was the one who lost everything and Emily gained what she had. Leah still did have one thing. Seth. And you. Seth was her brother and best friend. He always had her back. But you did too. Days after Embry introduced you to the pack you befriended her.

You felt intrusive of the moment so you walked out into the hall. A few doors down led to the outside. Some fresh air would be lovely. Sunshine fluttered through the glass door when you arrived. Glancing outside you halted.

Embry.

Black material covered his toned body, rose sitting perfectly on his left peck. His brown floppy hair was styled perfectly. Your fingers longed to run through the thick locks. You should've been the one to help him do his hair rather than peaking at him behind a door like a child that is supposed to be in time out. He was standing with Jake and Quil. His two friends were laughing as Embry leaned against the wall. Not laughing. Although his face didn't look miserable like yours did.

Jake's eye caught yours and you froze, terrified of what would happen next. Talking to Embry in front of them would most likely cause more issues. You knew Jake would side with you and Quil would side with Embry. Quil was forever Embry's best friend. Jake could see past that.

"There's Y/N." Jake spoke. Embry leaned off the wall and looked around for you. And there you were. Looking gorgeous as ever on the other side of the door. His face faltered into vulnerability as he realized how sad you looked. He did that. He made you sad. Before he could do anything you walked away. He grunted in annoyance, hitting the brick wall behind him.

"Fuck!"

Line up for walking down the isle was what you dreaded because obviously Embry was your match. Room silent as you grudgingly came to stand beside him. His eyes scanned over your beautiful face in sorrow. You busied yourself by picking at your nails. A tick that you did when you avoided confrontation.

Walking down the isle, an arm intertwined in his was mandatory. You did it. Sparks flew up your arm at touching him after so long. His warm skin blazed against yours pleasantly. During the wedding Embry kept stealing glances at you. You noticed and held his gaze when you could.

Sam and Emily's vowels were beautiful. Raw and true words about their unconditional love. Hell Emily has scars on her face from his anger and they got past that. Certainly you could get over Embry shifting yesterday. He did look incredibly handsome across from you.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The crowd cheered as Sam and Emily kissed. He dipped her back like a princess and the cheers only got louder. Kim nudged your shoulder and you two shared a smile when they road off to the reception hall in their decorated car.

You contemplated how you would get to the reception yourself. You arrived with Jake but your body was buzzing with anticipation to touch your boyfriend. Fighting seemed pointless. Today was about love. And you loved eachother. This tattoo was permanent but so were you guys.

Embry was leaning against his truck when your knuckles tapped on the door. He jumped at the surprise but he calmed down when he saw it was you. Looking beautiful as ever. Your hair blew in the wind, giving him a nervous smile.

"You look gorgeous, baby." He lowly said, gesturing to you.

You blushed, "Thanks. Not so shabby yourself, mister."

"I love you." He blurted, "I love you so much. I'm sorry for yesterday. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm especially fucking sorry for phasing."

Your eyes watered as you walked straight into his blazing embrace. He scrambled to pull you as close as possible. Your hands clutched the fabric of his tux as his hands gently rubbed up and down your back. Your mind was flooding with euphoria at how close he was to you. Intoxicating. You hadn't been this far away from Embry for so long since you were fifteen.

"I'm sorry for my tattoo. It was shitty of me not to talk to you about it."

"I was just hurt that you got one without me. I wanted your first tattoo to be shared with me. It was selfish. You may be my imprint, but it's still your body." He confessed.

You pulled away so that you could look up at him, "Yes. My body is mine. But my soul is undoubtedly mixed with yours, belongs to you. Getting a tattoo doesn't make that any less."

An infectious smile broke out on his face. His hands cupped your face as he brought you closer, noses rubbing affectionately. His hand moved to your chain to raise it up, lips slotting quickly against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a moan. You pulled back when you heard someone behind you two.

Jake stood there with a shit eating grin, "Was gonna ask if you needed a ride but you two clearly made up."

"Shut up dude." Embry groaned, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, "I missed her."

"Yeah, as if the whole pack didn't know that. See you guys at the reception." Jake retorted.

"See ya Jake!" You called out.

"Think we can manage a quickie before the reception?" Embry asked, hands dangerously roaming your body as he lifted you into the truck. You laughed as you were put on your back in the backseat. Your head lifted to see that no other cars were in the parking lot. You hummed as he shut the door and climbed on top of you. His hands pushed the dress off from your shoulders, head dipping down to appreciate what was his.

"This is a church parking lot." You teased as his tongue ran along your collar bone, hot saliva trailing behind. You grabbed his head and pulled it back up so that he could look at you.

"Yeah and? Everything about you is holy."

You snorted, pulling him down for another kiss. His warm hands slipped under your dress and grabbed your thighs, soft flesh melting against his. He pulled your hips up closer to him, grinding into you. You moaned at how his body moved against yours, two bodys and basically one soul. His lips moved to press hot kisses to your neck until they sucked on your tattoo.

"I think I actually like this spotch of ink." He murmured, running his tongue over it as he bunched up your dress to rest around your torso.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It's hot."

Twenty minutes later you two walked into the reception hall hand in hand. Embry was especially lovey after the ten minutes spent in his truck. You both made sure that no evidence of your quickie was present. Emily and Sam were sharing their first dance in the middle of the dance floor. You led him to your table where Jake, Quil, Jared, Kim, Paul, and Rachel sat. Seth and Leah sat with Sue and Charlie a table over.

"Hot make up sex?" Paul teased as Embry pulled your chair out for you.

You shook your head at his blunt question. It wasn't like your sex life was a secret. Embry could not keep those thoughts to himself when he was shifted. Actually none of the boys could. It was how it went. Over time you got used to it. It wasn't Embry's fault.

"The best." Embry said intertwining your hands, "But not that that's any of your concern."

Paul raised his hands in surrender. The hothead knew better than to overstep and disrespect a fellow wolf and imprint. That would lead to a fight and Sam would murder them.

"Don't listen to Paul. We're glad that you two fixed things." Kim sweetly said. Her eyes were always so wide and kind.

"Yeah, bunch'a miserable kids in love. Embry was mopey all morning." Jared added.

Embry rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing affectionately across the top of your soft hand, "Beg to differ.."

"Oh wanna bet, Call?! You leaned against walls and didn't talk. Like uh," Paul snapped his fingers as he tried to think of the word, "like a mute."

"Love you man, but he's right." Quil spoke. Embry snapped his head to glare at his best friend. In return Quil sheepishly shrugged and sipped his water.

Embry then shifted towards you again, "Do you think any other wolf packs are around that I can join?"

You laughed at his deadpanned tone and lightly slapped his bicep, "You love them and you know it, bub."

"Yeah, bub." Rachel teased, a beautiful smile gracing her lips. Paul smirked with a profound proud feeling bubbling in his chest as he listened to his imprint.

Sam and Emily's dance ended and the dance floor was opened up. Embry took this chance to escape the ragging from his friends to share a slow dance with you instead. His hands rested on the curve of your back while yours intertwined around his neck. His face bend down to be close to yours.

"So I was thinking about our tattoos..." Embry started.

You cocked a curious eyebrow, "Oh? And what conclusion did you arrive at?"

"Let's get them tomorrow. Quil knows a guy who does some wicked cool ones and I just know he will make them exactly how we want. And why wait? Why did we not do it a year a or two ago?" He rambled, twirling you around and bringing you back into his arms.

"No clue why we waited. But.. I am so down for tomorrow. Sooner the better."

He hummed happily, "Great. Tomorrow it is."

Harry Style's Adore You came on and you grinned, "You may be an ass at times Embry Call, but I adore you."

"Thank you baby, but hey." You looked into his loving brown eyes and waited for him to go on, "I'd walk through fire for you."

Song lyrics or not, Embry Call would legit do anything for you, "Just let me adore you." You responded.

He leant down to peck your lips, "That's the only thing I'd ever do."

[honey-hippie-harper]

through the bleeding shell (Re-upload)

This was @obsidianfr3sk ‘s Feel Better gift asfghadsfghadfsghja. It turned out to be pretty depressing in the end bc idk how to write happy stuff but my good intentions were there, ok?

This is a Humon/Renegays fic :’). Which, basically, is about how the Renegays didn’t kiss during the trilogy...sort of. I can’t think of an specific reason why they didn’t besides bad writing and queerbaiting, but I’ve always seen Hugh as this...detached entity. Idk x’d. He shows a pretty dense attitude. And so, I thought that it was partly the reason why they’re not that affective during the trilogy. Not that they aren’t on a daily basis. I just think their relationship was in a bad place when the events happened, because, among other things, Hugh wasn’t grieving Georgia in a healthy way (I headcanon them as best friends </3) and wouldn’t allow Simon to help him. 

idk why I felt the need to talk about that.

tag list (tell me if you want to be in or out): @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @alecjamesartino @everyone-has-a-nightmare @razzmooncake

through the bleeding shell

Being around someone for so long…

It allowed you to know things. Some of them important.

Others, not so much.

Simon had married a person he had been around his entire life; he had slept next to him almost every single day since he was very young. And his name was Hugh Everhart.

Simon knew every spot on Hugh’s body; he knew every mole, every random sun freckle here and there; how his body mass seemed to be well-distributed at plain sight but, in reality, his chest was naturally wider than the rest of his body, as if he had been born with the figure of a baseball player; how he scratched his nose because wrinkling it so much while laughing made it itchy; he knew the way his knuckles turned yellow when he turned them into a fist; he knew there was one single scar below his rib cage area…

He knew everything he had to know about Hugh Everhart, his husband, whom he loved so much that sometimes it hurt.

Yet, Simon was yet to know how and why, lately, he was so cold, despite still being a human furnace who was sometimes annoyed by the blanket on winter nights.

Kasumi frowned, and Simon wished she were misunderstanding, but whatever thing she was thinking, she was probably right.

Cold was a pretty wide term, which could basically mean anything. Being brutally honest, not even he knew what he was trying to convey by using that word, so he supposed he was referring to anything it could express, as a whole.

Thinking about it… yeah.

That option sounded about right.

Another thing that sounded about right, was the idea of Kasumi judging him because of it, which was something Simon knew wasn’t true and, instead, it was just his anxiety trying to ruin his day even more. But sometimes things were like that. He tried to avoid it, but never managed to do such thing. Ever.

“Not to be rude or anything.” She started, but before proceeding she seemed to realize that, maybe, that hadn’t sounded as intended, and her cheeks became extremely flushed, until Kasumi looked like she had ran under the burning sun while wearing a wool sweater for hours. “Really, Si. I don’t mean to be rude. As in...I’m...telling you this...so you think…”

She clicked her tongue, and then both Tamaya, who was also in the room, and him, stared at her as she talked to herself under her breath, making a couple of hand movements, as if she were writing her sentence in the air so she could phrase it correctly.

Sometimes, when Kasumi was nervous, she tended to struggle at putting her ideas together in a gentle, polite manner.

“...I was telling you that, so you don’t think I’m trying to offend you or minimize your pain.” She corrected herself. “Yeah?”

“...Yeah.” Simon nodded.

“Well…” Kasumi rubbed her hands together, more as a distraction than as an actual mannerism. “You know I’ve...never understood. Back at home...when we all lived together and...ugh. You know? Just...don’t mind me. Tam, you tell him.”

“No, no. What you’re saying is important too.”

“I want to listen to you, Zoomie.”

Upon the two pairs of eyes in the room being fixated on her, Kasumi kept fidgeting with the paper cone she now had between her hands, absently.

“Fine.” She whispered in a breathy voice, and then she stared at Simon, who stared back, not because he wanted to be polite or something like that, but because he genuinely wanted to listen to her.

Kasumi wasn’t a talker. That wasn’t an exaggeration or an act of fake modesty. It was just that Kasumi didn’t enjoy a lot of things, and one of them was speaking, to the point where sometimes she didn’t consider it necessary. There were days when she just...didn’t feel like speaking. And she didn’t. Because she didn’t want to. Because she didn’t need to. Because people could understand her anyway.

Still, everyone was willing to listen when she felt there was something she had to explain in a way that was verbal.

“I love my husband very much.” She said, placing a lock of hair behind her ear. “But, still, sex it’s not...a huge part of our relationship because I’ve never understood. When you joked about it back at home, I would just assume you were just doing that. Joking. I...literally didn’t expect you were serious when you talked about experiencing that type of attraction. Because I didn’t. And it’s not that I think it’s repulsive or anything like that. I just don’t get what the fuss is about. When I’m with him...it’s...usually not my first option. To think about that, I mean. And he understands and respects that, which I appreciate a lot.”

The more she spoke, the more confident her tone became. It meant she was growing more comfortable with the conversation, and that her train of thought was getting itself together, nice and slowly.

As for Simon...he was strangely comfortable, too, because this felt like a mature, adult conversation to him. Like a safe space.

After all, he was serious when he told them he needed to talk (now that Evander wasn’t here, because Evander was...not very sensitive). Hence, he was very glad they were being serious about it too.

“I understand that Hugh’s not in the spectrum.” Kasumi cleared her throat. “But...sexuality is fluid. Maybe, if you were talking about only that, it could be a good idea to talk it over. Only if he wants to, of course, because you never know; again, we can’t just assume, because one cannot do that. It’s rude. But what I mean...it’s that, whatever that’s going on in his head, maybe he’s trying to figure it out by himself. It might have nothing to do with his sexuality at all, actually, because, after all, that was just a comment...but it all comes back to the same point. Maybe he just...needs time.”

“Hugh’s pretty dense, Simon.” Simon saw the steamy cup in front of him, but he didn’t realize what it was until the smell of black coffee reached his nostrils. He hadn’t even noticed Tamaya was making coffee.

“Thank you.” He whispered anyway, as Tamaya leaned against the table, putting her weight on her elbows.

For all he knew, and all he cared about, it was pretty easy for people to judge Tamaya and label her as a bad person; she was quiet, although not in the way Kasumi was. On the contrary, she was rather serious, and her resting face was more intimidating than it was warm or welcoming. She was also really bad at controlling her temper, which didn’t help at all, but she wasn’t as bad as people wanted to portray her, or as bad as the recruits talked about her in the halls. Because, when it came to the recruits, Tamaya was strict, yes.

But somebody had to be, because being a Renegade was not a game, and the great majority of the advice she gave was extremely useful and clever.

Tamaya was caring.

Deep, very deep down. But she was.

“He’s pretty dense, but…” She sighed. “Most of the time, that’s not his fault. It’s not a good thing either. It’s not healthy for him and we shouldn’t condone it...but yeah. He can be pretty dense sometimes. He’s like that, most of the time it’s not his fault but...I don’t think you should feel like it’s yours either.”

Simon couldn’t help but flinch a little.

The thing was...he knew that.

It might’ve sounded crazy coming from him, but he knew it wasn’t his fault, even if his anxiety was determined to convince him otherwise.

Also, he was one to know that one couldn’t just fix a person. That’s not how mental health worked; of course, a romantic relationship or a relationship of any kind was a huge source of support and stability, but he knew it wasn’t enough to “heal” a person.

He knew about that, just like he knew that Hugh loved him and he loved Hugh, but that didn’t mean they could fix each other. They could make it a little better, yes; hold each other when things were rough; let the other know they weren’t alone.

But…”fixing” the other.

Not really.

They were humans.

They were people.

And the only thing people could fix, were objects, not other people.

“Like Kasumi said, sexuality is fluid, but it might as well not have to do anything with that.” Tamaya continued. Her voice sounded...soothing, strangely motherly. And she was calm.

Very calm.

It reminded Simon of someone.

They both reminded him of someone.

“Hubby and I, we both experience sexual attraction. It’s an important part of our relationship, and we enjoy it, but sometimes it’s just not the right time. He’s a doctor, I’m a Renegade Council member, and we have three wonderful boys together. Sometimes we don’t have time, so we just sit by the balcony to stargaze, holding hands, or we go out on dates like high school sweethearts, and I stand by the doorframe waiting for him to tell me I look pretty.”

Simon laughed a little.

It was evident she was trying to play it off as something dumb, but he found it absolutely adorable.

“And sometimes I’m too tired or he’s too tired, and that’s normal. It’s not our fault, and it doesn’t mean that we love each other less because…”

“Having sex doesn’t define love.” Kasumi said, and Tamaya nodded.

“Exactly.”

But again.

Again.

Simon knew that.

He really knew.

Hugh and him had busy schedules too. They both were Renegade Council members, and Hugh had it worse because not only was he a member, but also the leader of the Council. He had to be everywhere, at the same time, and people tended to think that just because he was invincible, it meant he didn’t have the right to feel emotionally drained, or at least tired.

Of course he was going to be tired.

He wasn’t a robot.

Hence, Simon understood what they were trying to say, and he agreed with Kasumi and Tamaya.

But the problem was…

He wasn’t referring just to that.

It was...part of the problem, yes.

But now that he knew their opinion about it, he had come to the realization that he still felt...empty and lost. And just...frustrated.

“We’re not only talking about sex, are we?” Tamaya asked carefully, and Simon refused to stare back at her, as he took a sip from his coffee, before answering:

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well...If you’re telling us this, it’s because you do want to talk about it, right?”

“I do. Yes.”

“Well. We’re listening.”

At the same time Tamaya spoke, a cold, little hand, laced between Simon’s.

A hand that felt like the sea and, even if he hadn’t known she was the only person in the room besides Tamaya and him, he would’ve recognized it as Kasumi’s.

So Simon squeezed her hand back.

“We’re listening, Si.” She confirmed. “We’re here for you.”

He knew that, and it was something he was extremely grateful about.

Now he just had to figure out how to put into words what he was feeling, because at this point it felt impossible for him to know.

There were just...so many things, but at the same time such a limited number of details he could recall.

It just felt...unreal.

And weird.

Very weird.

But Simon didn’t feel numb, unlike anyone would’ve expected from him.

In fact, he felt so sad he couldn’t even cry.

And it was the worst feeling ever.

“I don’t know.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I just...don’t know anymore. It’s just...I…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” He clarified. “...But maybe that’s why I don’t know what it is.”

For the shortest second, Simon came to the realization he was talking to himself instead of talking to them, or perhaps it was something that, deep down, was giving him the answer to why this whole situation was making him so uneasy and upset. Like, of course it was making him this upset. It was his husband they were talking about. Hugh was his fight. Hugh was…

Simon didn’t know.

But what he did know was that, maybe, it had nothing to do with himself, and that’s why he just couldn’t…

He just couldn’t understand.

Why couldn’t he understand?

Why did it have to be like this?

“I want to know what it is.” Simon took a deep breath, trying to make himself understood; trying to make them understand what he couldn’t. “...So I can...make it better...So I can...help him. So we can...look for help together.”

Simon scratched his brow with his free hand.

“But he’s just… so cold. He doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t come closer. He doesn’t...do anything. We don’t do anything. And I can’t help but feel like...he’s not here, even though he’s…” Simon scoffed, painfully. “...He’s right there, in front of my face.”

His eyes became fixated on a blank point, as if he were staring at an invisible Hugh, who wasn’t staring back at him.

“And I want him to...tell me. Because if he doesn’t tell me, then I have no way to know what’s wrong. And if I don’t know what’s wrong...then I don’t know for how long I can take it, you know? It’s just...I can’t bear to stand there as he pushes me away.”

Kasumi started running her thumb through his knuckles, and Simon felt Tamaya’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them, gently.

“I’m just scared...that when he finally wants me to come closer again, it might be too late...and maybe I won’t want to come closer again.”

Tamaya’s hands stopped moving for a moment, and Simon could almost feel her and Kasumi’s shock. He hadn’t even planned to say that. It just slipped.

And when Simon noticed it had slipped, it was far too late for him to hold it back.

“Maybe you should talk to him, after all.” Kasumi said, slowly, and Simon stared into her eyes.

He didn’t realize that was the thing he didn’t want to hear until he felt nothing but hopelessness.

Emptiness.

Fear.

A type of fear that became more intense in the moment they heard the door opening, and that’s when Simon saw him.

Hugh was standing right there, staring, and when his eyes laid on Simon, he arched an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused and worried.

“What’s happening here?” He asked. “...Si? Are you okay?”

Are you?

Simon didn’t want to answer. He really didn’t.

He didn’t want this to be about him.

He didn’t want Hugh asking him what was wrong if, harsh as it sounded, everything that was making him uncomfortable or upset had to do with him, not because Simon was blaming him, but because he was genuinely worried.

Let me help, Hugh.

“I’m...fine.”

Let me in.

“...Yeah. I’m...fine.”

Please, love.

Let me in.

Simon could see him hurting, but where he saw hurt, Hugh saw some type of burden that was meant to be concealed, committing treason against his own advice; dodging the sound of the voice of a younger Hugh, who guided a younger Simon through the dark, telling him it was alright.

That pain was alright.

And that pain didn’t make him less human.

Hugh’s pain, in particular, was a grey, bleeding shell that was so thick Simon couldn’t find a way to get in, and Hugh couldn’t find a way to get out.

So they just pressed their palms together through the bleeding shell, staring at each other's eyes through a polarized surface, that stopped their skin from touching, and stopped their lips from finding the other.

And the worst thing...was that Simon was craving that. He craved Hugh’s lips. He craved everything physical about him, just like he craved everything that wasn’t physical too. And he craved him so much he felt like dying every time he was close. He craved him so much it made him feel like a teenager again.

Which, in his case, wasn’t a good thing.

He wished it was.

But...teenage years weren’t fun if you had to spend them trapped in a closet. Things were never good when lived from inside a closet.

He didn’t want his life outside that closet to be like that too.

“Did you have an attack? ...Si, did you take your pills? … You did, right?”

“Hugh.” Simon heard Tamaya’s voice. “Is there...something that you needed?”

Hugh blinked, knowing that, maybe, he had interrupted something.

Mostly because it wasn’t like Tamaya was trying to hide it either.

“...Yeah.” He said, resting his arms on the nearest chair.

Tamaya pulled away from Simon, and Kasumi let go of his hand. They didn’t become fully focused, nor did they put on their “I’m working” mode either, but they did manage to...pretend. Even Simon managed to do so.

“Uh...I…” Hugh snapped his fingers in front of his own face, trying to remember what was it that he had to say.

“....Yeah.” He concluded. “Yeah. Uh… Tam. I need you to head downtown because they want you to supervise some of the floats for the parade. From...up, I mean. So you can check some of the details. I already checked from the ground and everything’s looking good, but now they want you to give them the green light.”

“Right now?”

“Preferably.” Hugh scratched his nose. “Were you...in the middle of something?”

Tamaya filled her cheeks with air, and then let it out, making a little trumpet with her lips.

“No.” She lied. “It’s fine. I’ll go. Just let me put some stuff in my locker, alright?”

“Be careful when you fly, okay? It’s kinda hot outside. If you get dizzy...”

“If I get dizzy, I’ll land. I know. I’m the one who’s flying.”  

Given that she was already heading by the door, Tamaya patted his shoulder, and they said goodbye with a very polite kiss on the cheek, before Tamaya left the room completely, and Hugh drew his attention towards Kasumi.

“Margaret White is acting out.”

Kasumi frowned. Deeply.

“Margaret...what?”

“Uh. White? You know? The Renegades’ ward? The kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know who Maggie is.” Kasumi waved her hands in front of her own face. “...Who named her that?”

“Who named her what?”

“White. Who on Earth…?” Kasumi clicked her tongue. “Nevermind, okay? Just...what did she do?”

“Zoomie, I had already told you.” Hugh laughed, confused.

“I thought you were being rude, Hugh.”

Margaret White was the Renegades’ protégé. Her powers consisted of detecting and attracting metals which, evidently, was not something that was out of this world. In fact, she had been recruited at such a young age not because she had extraordinary abilities, but because she was problematic as heck.

She was Max’s age, more or less but, unlike Max, Margaret had no chill.

Her life was ruined from the moment somebody saw her and decided that White was a suitable last name for her, Tamaya used to say.

Margaret’s skin was tan, and she had slanted eyes. Naming her “White” almost seemed like a tasteless joke.

Simon himself thought Hugh was just being disrespectful the first time he told him her name, and he had to hear it a couple of times before he just...accepted he was serious (and that Hugh himself didn’t seem to like the idea of her being named like that very much).

Maggie was really problematic. For real. She had been kicked out of a couple of orphanages already, and maybe she would have been kicked out of this one too, if it hadn’t been a prodigy orphanage, which happened to be under Kasumi’s management, meaning it was directly related to the Council. And they were supposed to make sure nobody got kicked out of there.

Simon liked Maggie, because he knew that there was a chance that everything she ever did had reason behind it. An emotional reason. Perhaps she wanted love. Perhaps she wanted attention.

Perhaps she just…

Wanted someone who didn’t give up on her at the minimum inconvenience.

So he just...tried not to.

Hard as it was, because Maggie tended to make it hard; Kasumi had tried to canalize her to a psychologist many times, but her response always was that “she wasn’t crazy” (perhaps because kids her age were mean and “crazy” was one of their favorite words to use as an insult) and...well...part of the process in children, was understanding when it was the right time and when it wasn’t.

Sometimes forcing kids into treatment made it worse, and Maggie was pretty mature for her age, while painfully childish at the same time. Respecting her space and giving her time was their only option, if they didn’t want to turn her into a ticking bomb.

“Are you for real? I’ve been addressing her like that for like…”

“Just tell me what the little bundle of joy did now.”

“Pff.” Hugh scoffed. “Bundle of joy.”

Then, he cleared his throat the moment Kasumi fixed a glare at him.

“Well...the usual. She stole something from one of the nannies, Carrietta Ferland saw her and she locked her in a cellar so she wouldn’t say anything.”

“She locked Carrietta Ferland in a cellar.” Kasumi rubbed her forehead, and before she left the meeting room, she squeezed Simon’s wrist.

She didn’t say goodbye to Hugh.

Simon didn’t, either, when he excused himself under the sort of cheap white lie he needed to wash his face.

-.-

But one could only wash their face so much, before their partner suspected.

When Simon didn’t come back, Hugh didn’t go after him. He never did at first.

As in…

Hugh always went after him, just not at first; over time, Simon had grown to accept it wasn’t a pride thing.

When Hugh left, he never wanted anyone to go after him, and he was the type to believe that just because he didn’t want something, it meant nobody wanted it; Simon had gotten used to it, because Hugh was his husband, and they accepted each other just like they were.

What Simon refused to accept, was the bleeding shell Hugh was inside of.

He hated it.

He despised it, especially at night. It would grow around Hugh in slow motion, and then he would bleed through, and the whole room would turn red, overflowing it with unspoken, suffocated anger and pain.

Hugh turned his back at Simon that night, so Simon turned his back at him too, not because he was mad, but because he didn’t feel like staring at Hugh’s back today.

Their room became as cold as an industrial fridge, as they both fell deep into the notion the other was not asleep, and that they both were listening to the sound of a room that was currently filled with deathly silence.

Deathly as the bone-chilling cold penetrating their limbs, their organs, and their everything.

Deathly as…

Deathly as feelings.

All the stored feelings, and the way Simon craved something he knew was right there.

Hugh was right there. Right next to him. And his body, which he knew so well, was laying next to him, turning his back at him, with every mole, every sun freckle, a chest wider than the rest of his body…

And one single scar below his rib cage.

The same rib cage that protected his heart.

Say something, Simon.

The same heart Simon had felt beating so many times.

Say something.

Anything.

Maybe…

Maybe this had a reason too.

An emotional reason.

Perhaps love. Or attention.

Say something. Anything.

Because you do go after people from the very first moment.

Slowly, as if he had never moved before in his life, Simon rolled to the other side, and as his trembling hand rested on Hugh’s arm, he became alert, awake as they both were, and he looked over his shoulder.

“Hugh?” Simon asked, the name leaving a familiar firm in his mouth that tasted like home.

He didn’t answer, because that was his name. Hence, he knew he was trying to talk to him.

“Come here, Hugh.”

And Hugh came over, hesitantly, rolling to his side too, as they faced each other, and Simon ran his finger through his face, just...exploring every spot he already knew, as if he were visiting his comfort place, of his favorite bench in the park.

His blue eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, and Simon felt he could’ve gotten lost in them and never come back.

But he didn’t get lost.

Because he had to find the love of his life first.

“I’m never giving up on you.” He whispered. “...you know that, right?”

Perhaps he didn’t.

But, on the other hand, perhaps he did. And Simon was left with nothing but the mere hope it had meant something.

“I’m never giving up on you either, Si.”

But Simon did know that.

Boy.

Did he know.

-.-

What he didn’t know, however, was the answer to the what.

He wondered what that had felt like.

He wondered what Nightmare had felt when, the morning after, she tried to shoot Hugh in the eye from a roof.

Not because he were mad at her.

No. Not really.

She was young after all.

He just wondered what she had felt.

[infinite-beginnings]

Happy Asexual Awareness Week!

I wanted to take some time to share my personal Ace story and how I took the long and slow and confusing and sometimes scary journey to realizing I was Asexual.

I probably would’ve been able to identify myself as asexual all the way back in middle school, that is, if I had known what it was. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn the term until many many years, and several failed dating attempts later. In fact, I didn’t start identifying as an Asexual until I was 22 and out of college.

That is why I am writing this. It is not because I am an expert on Asexuality or because I have all of the answers. Because trust me, it’s five years later and I am still figuring this whole thing out. This is my personal story and everyone’s experience is different but I am writing this because I hope that if I share my experiences, some beautiful person somewhere will read it and think “huh, that’s sort of how I feel,” and that will be the missing puzzle piece they need to figure out their sexuality.

If anyone knows me, you know that I tend to write A LOT, so this is ridiculously long and if you choose to read the whole thing, you have my great admiration.

Let me tell you a little bit about my journey from a straight woman to a biromantic asexual. 

Let’s start back in middle school and high school. I can sum up my love life in one word: Nonexistent. I remember feeling left out when my more boy crazy friends talked about their crushes. I for one, had a severe lack of crushes. There were boys I thought were cute and nice, but I couldn’t relate to the intensity of the feelings of my friends.

Looking back, I think I forced myself into having crushes. I would be talking to a male friend who I thought was cute and wonder if this was a crush. Then, my friends would all tell me that we looked good together and I would admit that I thought that I liked them and we would all squeal over the possibility.

Of course, nothing ever happened. I used to blame it on my shyness and awkwardness, and while that might still be a part of it, I think the bigger reason that I never acted on any of my “crushes” was because I simply didn’t want to. I enjoyed being friends with these boys and that was good enough for me. I remember thinking repeatedly that I wouldn’t have wanted to date a boy because I hadn’t acted soon enough and now we were too good of friends to ruin.

Fast forward to sophomore year of high school. I was running a retreat through my church and we were playing a game to get to know the leaders. One of the questions asked us to describe the worst date we’d been on. I was last in line, so I sat there and listened to the other peer leaders describing their dates. As time went on I grew more and more uncomfortable. I excused myself to go to the bathroom before it was my turn to speak. Once there, I cried my eyes out.

Now, it may not seem like that big of a deal, a sophomore who hadn’t even been on a single date yet. But it was the first moment where I really felt like something was broken inside of me. I felt so disconnected from the stories the others were telling and I didn’t know why. I had no idea why I didn’t have the same experience as everyone else in the room. It hadn’t really occurred to me that I was missing out on anything until that moment.

I didn’t know what a panic attack was back then either, but looking back, I’m pretty sure I was having one. Eventually, one of the other peer leaders found me and helped to calm me down. She assured me that it didn’t matter one bit that I hadn’t been on a date yet. I accepted her reassurances, but I couldn’t tell her how empty I was really feeling.

Fast forward again to my senior year. This is when I think I had my first honest to god crush. We met at a summer camp and were friends for a couple years before things started to get more intense between us.

The summer after my senior year we spent a couple weeks together at this camp. One night we snuck out together and stayed up talking for hours. That’s all we did, talk. To this day, there are still people who think that there is no way that all we did was talk...but anyways. He was a sweet boy and I loved spending time with him. Sitting and talking for hours on end felt right to me.

A couple days later, I remember this boy telling me that he had really wanted to kiss me that night.

I honestly cannot remember what my response was, but it was probably awkward and not at all what he was looking for. I was so shocked and had no idea how to respond. After the week ended we were texting and he told me that him saying he wanted to kiss me was his way of telling me that he liked me. This I was better equipped to deal with. I told him that I liked him back, because I honestly did. He would hold my hand and it would make butterflies erupt in my stomach.

A lot of boring and awkward teenage flirting later, we ended up kissing on my front porch. My first kiss. And I froze. I literally did not move a muscle. I chalked it up to first kiss nerves.

I remember afterwards I went inside and leaned against the front door and smiled like girls do in cheesy romance movies. I was happy and glad that I had finally experienced my first kiss, but I wasn’t as happy as I thought I was supposed to be. Again there was this weird disconnect that I couldn’t explain. I was glad to have gotten my first kiss, but there were no emotions deeper than that.

I tried talking to one of my more experienced friends about it and he just told me that the first couple kisses were always awkward and I just had to give it a couple more chances.

So I did. My freshman year of college, whenever I was home I would see this boy and the nights frequently ended in kisses.

Now, I really liked this boy. We talked all the time and I felt comfortable talking about pretty much everything with him. So I really wanted this to work. And I could tell he liked the kissing, so I kept trying.

But in the end I came to the conclusion that I didn’t enjoy it. I would find myself in the middle of what should’ve been a steamy make out session feeling bored. I would wonder how much longer the kiss would go on. 

I didn’t understand it, because I loved cuddling with this boy and the little physical touches of affection would give me goosebumps, but I did not enjoy the kissing.

Eventually what we had fizzled and we went back to being just friends. And I tried to rationalize my feelings by thinking that him and I just didn’t have chemistry or that I didn’t know how to kiss correctly so it felt wrong.

I had no idea what to do with these feelings, so I just pushed them aside.

I didn’t date at all through college.

I told myself that it was because I didn’t go out and party and that was how people seemed to meet each other. Truth is, the whole hook-up culture really freaked me out. I don’t judge people who participate in it, but I just couldn’t even in a million years think of doing something like that. It made me uncomfortable to think about, so I stayed away.

Then, my senior year of college I read a post on tumblr that changed my life. It was a post about Sam Winchester from Supernatural and it called him a demi-sexual. This piqued my interest so I read more about it. I learned that this was a term for people who could only feel sexual attraction to people who they had developed a close emotional connection with.

That sounded like me. It explained why the college hook-up life was not appealing to me and why I had trouble dating. By the time I felt close with someone, they were my friend and I was “stuck in the friendzone”. I figured my main problem was that I didn’t know how to get that close to the guy I was trying to date.

After college, my sister convinced me to try a dating website. I was dubious about it, but I did it and managed to find a couple really sweet guys. One of them I actually dated for an extended period of time.

I still thought I was demi-sexual at this point, so I told him I wanted to take things slow. And we did, and he was very respectful about it. Eventually we got to the point where he asked if he could kiss me and I said yes.

So we kissed. And the only thing I can remember is disappointment. I was disappointed because this kiss didn’t feel any different than my other ones.

The next day, this boy texted me that he’d been thinking about our kiss and couldn’t wait to do it again. This was a tipping point for me. As sad as it made me, I knew I had to break up with him. He obviously felt a lot more intensely towards me than I did him and I didn’t want to lead him on. The truth was, the only thing I’d thought about since our kiss was how I might be able to avoid kissing him again soon. It was only fair that I broke things off with him before they got any more intense.

Plus, I had to figure out what the heck was going on with me. Demisexuality was close, but it didn’t seem to be a perfect fit.

So I went back to the internet and tumblr and I finally found out about asexuality. At first I really tried to talk myself out of identifying as an asexual because it sounded a little scary. Sex is just an important part of our culture and dating life. How was I supposed to navigating dating if I didn’t want to have sex or maybe even kiss? Was that really who I was or was the problem that I hadn’t just found the right person yet? I read every article I could find, but honestly they weren’t much help.

The problem is that asexuality is such an umbrella term. In simple terms, Asexuality can be defined as a lack of sexual attraction. But that being said, I read that there were some asexuals who still felt sexual attraction and some asexuals who enjoyed having sex. There were other asexuals who were sex-repulsed. The list goes on and on. There are dozens of different unique terms within asexuality and honestly, it’s all kind of overwhelming.

I just wanted to know if I was asexual or not. I wanted to be able to take a test or check off a list or something, but it’s not that simple.

I anonymously reached out to a few asexual tumblrs and told them my story. They all responded in similar ways. They said that it sounded like I could be asexual, but ultimately, only I could really make that decision.

I let this stew for a few months. I went back and forth. Sometimes I tried talking myself into asexuality and sometimes I was talking myself out.

Eventually, I decided that the asexual umbrella was big enough to cover me. The more I thought about my life, the more things seemed to make sense through an asexual lens.

The way I used to read the Nora Roberts books that my older cousin smuggled me. I would often skip over all of the sex scenes, not because they made me uncomfortable, but because they bored me. I was much more intrigued in the story.

How I never really enjoyed watching sex scenes in movies.

How I cringed at the smacking sound that kisses made both in movies and in real life.

How much I hated reading fanfiction that was smut and couldn’t even properly write two characters kissing.

Everything that used to make me feel out of place and different from my friends could be explained by the fact that I was asexual.

I have not tried dating since I figured out that I was asexual. The already daunting dating world gets a lot more scary when you remove the sexual aspect. 

I know I am not aromantic, because I really want a partner to go on dates with. Who I can cuddle with and hold hands and share secrets with. I yearn to find someone to share my life with. I really want the romance part that comes with dating. It’s just hard to find someone who wants to do those things but is okay with not kissing or having sex.

I haven’t quite figured out how to navigate that one yet (like I said, still figuring stuff out). I do know that identifying as Ace made me feel a lot more comfortable with who I was. I no longer tried to explain away my lack of sexual feelings. I no longer feel like something is wrong with me because I don’t want to kiss a pretty boy who’s into me.

Now, I’m sure some of you picked up on the biromantic thing and are wondering why I have only been talking about boys. That is because I thought I was straight. My lack of sexual attraction was disguising my love for women and everyone else. When I told my sister I was Asexual she asked if that meant I could like women if I wasn’t interested in sex.

I told her that Ace people could still be Pan or Bi or heteroromatic when it came to who they found appealing, but her question made me start to think about whether I really only liked boys or not. Now, I think I definitely gravitate more towards men. Most of the characters in shows I find myself obsessing over are men. But that being said I can definitely think of times where I was into a girl. I would think of how attractive a woman was and be fascinated by her. I just thought my appreciation of her stemmed from either friendship or jealousy. 

This is all slightly hypothetical since I haven’t actually tried dating a woman, but when I picture it in my head, it feels just as comfortable to imagine being in a relationship with a woman as it does with a man. Because of this, I choose to identify as biromantic. At the end of the day, labels should make us feel comfortable with what we are and they are not set in stone.

Maybe someday I’ll date a woman and decide it’s actually not for me. If that happens I can drop the Biromantic part. If you take anything out of this very long story, it’s that you should identify with whatever makes you feel comfortable.

If you are questioning whether or not you are asexual, try sitting with it for a while. See if identifying as Ace feels like it fits with you. If it doesn’t, keep searching. There’s no perfect answer and labels are not perfect and are not necessary. Labels simply help us form a community of people who feel similarly to us.

Since I’ve started to identify as asexual I’ve told my closest friends and my family. For the most part I’ve received unconditional support and a few of them told me that they were not at all surprised to find out I was Ace. 

I’ve also experienced my brother telling me that maybe my lack of sexual feelings stemmed from confidence issues and maybe if I lost some weight I would feel more comfortable in my body and feel comfortable having sex. I’ve also experienced my mother telling me not to worry about labeling myself because I didn’t want to limit my options. She then proceeded to pretend that we’d never had that conversation at all.

Coming out as asexual can be a little bit complicated because of the lack of knowledge surrounding asexuality. I find myself often having to explain what asexuality is along with telling them that I am ace. It adds a bit of chaos to an already scary process.

Here is my humble advice to anyone considering coming out to your friends or family. Educate yourself on asexuality. I will include some of the resources I turned to at the end of this. Try to have answers to give them about it. Be strong. You know your feelings and your mind. Tell them honestly how you feel. Answer all of their questions up until the point you are comfortable with. If you are not comfortable talking about your feeling surrounding sex or anything like that, simply tell them that.

I’ve had some friends ask me some pretty personal questions surrounding my asexualtiy. For me personally, I encouraged it, because I was trying to educate them and help them know how I felt. But for you, you might want to set boundaries about what you are and are not comfortable with.

To all of my Ace people out there, happy Asexual Awareness Week! You are valid, you are loved, you are perfect, and you are whole.

I am always here to talk if anyone has questions, stories, concerns, or just looking for a sympathetic ear!

Here are some websites and tumblrs I turned to while looking for information on Asexuality! This list is by no means excusive or the best one around, it’s simply what I used!

https://www.thetrevorproject.org/trvr_support_center/asexual/

https://www.asexuality.org/

https://www.healthline.com/health/what-is-asexual

@fuckyeahasexual​ @perksofbeingace​ @thehumorousace​ @asexualadvice​ @asexual-society​ @life-of-an-asexual​ @asexualawarenessweek​

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 37: Only Ever Yours

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: It finally happens.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

You stayed on the dancefloor for an hour more, holding each other, basking in the closeness, before leaving. Your friends tried to get you to stay, but you and Rowena were adamant that you were tired.

Meg, the only one clued in on what, exactly, was going on, gave you thumbs up on your way out. A wordless encouragement that meant the world to you.

The drinks you'd consumed earlier loosened you up a bit. Your muscles weren't tense, rigid; you weren't wood on your feet, a puppet without its strings.

But still, going home with Rowena for the sole purpose if having sex was terrifying.

What if you messed something up?

What if you said or did something wrong?

What if, when she saw you — all of you — she wasn't attracted to you anymore?

Your looks were on an average scale, far below Rowena's divine beauty. You had no doubt her body looked as great bare as it did clothed; having a background in dance and working out from time to time had its perks.

Your body, on the other hand, was awful.

You weren't a dancer or an athlete.

You didn't work out.

You ate what you wanted without paying a shred of mind to the calories.

While Rowena's body was a temple, yours was a ruin in the middle of nowhere, overgrown with weeds and infested with rats.

What if she pushed you away?

What if she laughed and, stone cold, dead serious, told you to your face how disgusting you were, how sick looking at you made her?

What if—

No!

That wasn't Rowena, you told yourself.

Once upon a time she might have been cruel, but those days were long gone.

She was a different person now.

Loving.

Caring.

Kind.

She loved you.

Repulsion wasn't a choice, though.

She could love you all she wanted; if her body reacted badly to you, there was nothing either of you could do about it.

It's gonna be okay, you told yourself, trying to stay positive.

The night would go on as planned, just as the dance had, and, at the very end, Rowena would still love you as she loved you now.

Nothing would change.

Not for the worse.

Guthrie greeted the two of you at the MacLeod residence. Rowena sent him on his way, assuring him Gavin was safe in her hands; the boy had been fed and was asleep, requiring no additional care.

Just to be sure, Rowena went to check up on him while you got settled in her room. You sat down on the bed awkwardly, knees pressed together, cheeks burning with nervousness and alcohol flowing through your veins.

Your eyes fell on the sheets, on the pillows neatly tucked under them.

This was where it would happen.

By the end of the night you would be wrapped up in those sheets, bare as they day you were born, with Rowena curled up against you like a kitten.

You swallowed, hard, throat aching under the pressure.

It was going to happen.

After months of thinking it over, dreaming it up in your deepest, wildest fantasies, it was finally going to happen.

Oh, god. Jesus. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Would it be as good as you imagined?

Would it be heaven, bliss, everything magic and nice like you'd read in books and fanfictions?

Rowena knew what she was doing, you reminded yourself. If anyone could give you heaven, it was her.

She wouldn't disappoint.

"Sleeping like a baby," she said, shaking you from your thoughts.

Good.

One less thing to worry about.

"What about your mom?"

Being caught in the act by her baby brother was one thing.

If her mother were to hear anything…

You would never live down the embarrassment.

"Her shift ends at midnight," Rowena said. "I may have convinced her to take her colleagues for a wee drink after."

Of course she did. "Clever girl."

She let out a sound that suspiciously resembled a moan. "You know I'm a genius."

You knew all too well.

"It pays off to be prepared, no?"

"So you were expecting this."

Suspicions confirmed.

"I was going to give it a try." She winked. "Great minds think alike."

You blushed harder. "I guess you did that on purpose, too?"

The dress.

The hairstyle.

The makeup.

All part of a perfectly crafted plan, just as you'd thought.

Rowena smirked. "I had to give you some incentive."

She had no idea. "Oh, you gave me plenty."

If you weren't already ready, you would have been after seeing her like that.

She chuckled, a mischievous little sound that made your heart flutter.

"You're not playing fair," you said.

She raised an accusatory eyebrow, eyes settling on you, scanning you from head to toe. "And you are?"

Guilty.

"That's different. I'm not that hot."

"Och, my dear, you couldn't be more wrong." She stalked over to you, steps careful, calculated. Enticing. Her fingers brushed against your cheek in a gentle caress; you found yourself leaning into it, her skin soft against yours, a welcome comfort. "You are bloody perfect."

Far from it, but you still blushed like crazy.

Was she trying to kill you?

"Flatterer," you uttered, barely keeping your voice from breaking apart into trembles that took over your hands.

"Just being honest."

Her voice betrayed not a trace of deception.

Not that you were expecting any.

One of the many things you loved about Rowena was her honesty. What she thought, she said. What she felt, she showed. She was generous with compliments; not just in words, but in actions, never afraid to give a kiss or put on a smile that made you melt into a puddle.

You couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend.

To think less than a year ago you could barely stand the sight of her…

My, how wrong you were. How very mistaken.

Rowena pressed her lips to yours, The kiss was soft, sweet, everything you wanted and yearned for. You closed your eyes, melting into the sensation, body falling limp, a puppet whose strings she pulled. Your nerves exploded. Heart raced, pounded harder with each movement of her mouth.

Every inch of you burned, a feeling you found yourself enjoying and dreading all at once as tingles spread through you, electric, tickling.

Teasing.

They roamed your body the way Rowena roamed your mouth, explored you, taunted you before finally settling between your legs

You pressed your thighs together. Rubbed them against one another for friction.

God.

You hadn't even taken your clothes off, and you were already turned on.

"You're sure you want this?" Rowena asked as you parted.

Your lips trembled, swollen, aching for more despite knowing you would get plenty.

Patience wasn't one of your stronger suits.

"Yes." You looked her in the eyes as you said it, poured your scattered confidence into the gaze to contrast your weak voice. "I… I want you."

She had no idea how much.

Good god, she had no idea!

Rowena smiled, one of her sweet ones, the calm before the storm. "Ask and you shall receive."

"I, um…" Your cheeks flamed, this time from embarrassment. You swallowed a small lump in your throat. In a voice so small it was a wounded whisper, you said, "Rowena?"

"Yes, my dove?"

The pet name made warmth swell up in your chest. "I never… you know…"

"This is your first time?"

Her tone suggested she suspected as much.

You nodded.

"In that case, let's make it memorable, shall we?"

The grin on her face, wide, bright, told you she intended to make good on her words.

Your heart sped up again, anticipation building. "Sorry if I do something wrong."

"Y/N, please." She laid a finger to your mouth; perfectly manicured, her nail polish — a sexy, screaming red that made your head spin — shining in the fluorescent light. You wanted to kiss it, bite it. Suck on it like you did back in Branson. "You will do great. Just relax."

Relax.

You could do that.

In theory.

You swallowed. Sucked in a breath.

Yeah, you could totally do that.

"You're in good hands," she added confidently.

You responded with a small chuckle.

You were in good hands.

The best hands.

There was no one you trusted to teach you, to be your first, more.

"If it gets to be too much," Rowena said, "let me know. Don't pretend for my sake. Tonight is about your pleasure as much as mine."

"Okay," you said with a nod, appreciative of the gesture.

"If, at any point, you change your mind, tell me and I will stop."

"I won't change my mind."

You were sure of that.

Tonight was the night.

No more holding back.

Besides, this was Rowena.

Who, in their right mind, would say no to sex with her?

"I want you." You gently took hold of her hand and pulled her closer. Your lips connected with hers, locked in a kiss that betrayed your hunger, your ache for her. You wanted her; all of her, mind body and soul, right here and now. Wanted her all over you. Inside of you. "So much," you said through the kiss, eliciting a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a groan from deep in her throat. "I love you."

"I love you as well, my angel," she responded and accompanied it with a kiss of her own.

You never tired of hearing her say it.

Never tired of kissing her, of her sweet, sweet taste in your mouth that was magic and delight and everything you ever dreamed of.

How could one person be so delicious?

How could she be heaven and hell in one; virtue and sin, the sweetest dream and the worst nightmare?

How could she be so fucking perfect?

She had no right, you thought as she deepened the kiss, tongue breaking in, taking over. Making you shiver with anticipation as your mind conjured up images of that tongue someplace else, hot and wet and dangerous, your body writhing under its ministrations.

Your pussy throbbed at the visual. Excited. Overwhelmed.

She hadn't yet touched you, and you were already wound tight.

"Would you like to do the honours?" Rowena asked, voice a purr whose vibrations you could feel on your lips — your swollen, trembling lips, hungry for more, desperate like an addict craving a fix.

"W-what?" You released a small breath, then took in another one, and another in an attempt to compose yourself. A failed one for you were a mess of tingles and nerves and it was all her fault and you resented and loved her all at once.

She had no right to do this to you.

No right to control you like this, to have so much power over you with a single kiss.

"This dress isn't going to remove itself," she said, and, for good measure, added in a seductive wink.

"Oh."

Oh.

Before you could process what, exactly, she was asking of you, you were on your feet and on your way over to her. Body running on instinct, like a robot programmed to do her bidding.

A very nervous, very turned on robot.

"You sure?" you asked because — what were you supposed to ask? What were you supposed to do?

"Och, aye." It was a purr, so delicious your mouth watered and a fresh wave of tingles, hot and cold in tune with her teasing, swept over you like a downpour drenching you from head to toe.

Rowena turned around. You stood still for a few moments, frozen in place, a useless statue brimming with nerves and heat and static going off, swallowing you whole one breath at a time. When you finally dared reach for her zipper. you flinched. Her skin was hot, seething. Inviting. Dangerous. Everything you ever wanted right at the tips of your fingers.

Slowly, carefully, as if she were a dainty porcelain doll, you pulled the zipper down. The dress bloomed open, exposing miles and miles of flawless, milky skin you wanted to run your hands all over.

Laying your trembling hands on her shoulders, you asked, "May I?"

"Aye, darling."

You slid the straps down her arms, helping her free herself of them, then pulled the dress down and let it pool at her feet in a crimson mound.

You gulped, overwhelmed by the sight.

Here she was, standing before you matching bra and panties; black, lacy, sensual. A fantasy you'd had so many times come to life.

You unclasped the bra, cheeks flaming, and brought your hands to her hips, fingers curling around the hem of her panties. Still. Anxious. Not daring to make a move.

Rowena clasped her hands over yours gently. "Go on, love."

She helped you pull the lacy garment down to her thighs, then stepped out of the fallen dress, peeled them off, and dropped them beside the rest of her clothes. She shook her shoes off, the red of her toenails glittering, and turned to face you.

You barely held back a gasp.

God, she was beautiful.

Naked as the day she'd been born, she was the picture of perfection.

Her skin was flawless, not a blemish in sight aside from a small scar on her right thigh, sprinkled with freckles that covered her entire body like fairy dust.

Her breasts were small, supple; you wanted nothing but to cup them, to pinch those perky nipples until they were hard.

She had curves in all the right places and muscles that were tight, strong, making her look like a Renaissance sculpture.

A timeless beauty.

And so yours.

Every single bit of her.

The realization knocked the air out of your lungs as if you'd been punched.

God. Shit. Fuck.

She was yours.

This gorgeous, stunning creature was yours.

What had you done to deserve her?

"Like what you see?" Rowena said, smirking like the naughty thing she was.

You cleared your throat. Sucked in a small breath. "Maybe."

Very.

She let out a laugh, one of those teasy, confident ones. "You know this is all yours, right?"

Oh, you knew.

She took your hands and brought them to her breasts. They fit perfectly in your palms, and, instinctively, you squeezed them. It prompted her to smile. "All yours."

She kissed you, a small peck on your lips that left you wanting — craving, needing — more.

"Patience," Rowena said, noticing your turmoil, your face a pathetic, dirty traitor. "First let's get these clothes off you, shall we?"

Throat tightening, trapping all the words you wanted to say, you nodded.

She stepped behind you and quickly went to work, unzipping your dress and getting it off you. You shivered, more from fear than excitement.

What if she was disgusted by what she saw?

What if she hated your body — your plain, imperfect, ugly body you'd never shown anyone before?

A strange sensation on your shoulder shook you from your thoughts.

A kiss.

Soft.

Wet.

Gentle as Rowena's hands that rested on your forearms.

"You're exquisite, my love," she whispered and planted another kiss, then another, slowly moving to the back of your neck.

No, I'm not, you wanted to say. I'm awful.

You elected to keep it to yourself and instead closed your eyes and gave in to the feeling of her mouth on your skin, caressing you, loving you. Showering you with affection you'd been craving.

"My beautiful wee girl," she said amidst the rain of kisses. "So beautiful."

She helped you get your bra off, and stepped aside to allow you to pull down your panties and remove your shoes.

You faced her bare as she was, nerves popping, heart thrumming so hard you feared it would explode in your chest.

There was nothing but adoration on her face, pure, unadulterated. Wonder akin that of a child laying their eyes upon a mesmerizing sight for the first time.

She liked what she saw.

She liked you.

Exactly as you were.

And, god, you didn't think it was possible to love her more than you already did, but here you were, bursting with it.

You shouldn't have doubted her.

You shouldn't have doubted yourself.

Tonight was your night, both of yours; she would never do anything to ruin it.

She would never hurt you.

"You still in?" she asked.

"Yup."

You weren't going to give this up for the world.

Rowena grinned. "That's my girl!"

Before you could utter a response, her mouth was on yours, and you were lost in the kiss that tasted sweeter than any before.

A kiss of promise, of wonderful things to come.

Soon you were on the bed, and she was kissing you all over; your neck, shoulders, breasts, and stomach. She did things to you that you didn't know were possible. Things you'd never even dreamed of. She brought you to the edge of pleasure, pushed you over it, sent you on a high and expertly brought you down.

She was right — you were in good hands.

You couldn't have asked for better.

You tried your luck reciprocating. Rowena led you through it, ever an endlessly patient tutor. Told you what to do, how to pleasure her one little step at the time.

The night was long, and by the end of it you were both spent, laying breathless next to each other, smiles big and bright on your mouths.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Perfect," you said, having no other words to describe it. Fucking perfect!

"Well," she beamed, proud, "I am an expert."

"You are."

One with an ego, but an expert nonetheless.

You curled into her, pressing your forehead to hers. "I love you, Rowena."

"I love you, too, Y/N."

Your name falling from her lips was a pleasant melody. A peaceful, calming lullaby.

It echoed in your head as you drifted off to sleep.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

[migleefulmoments]

Oh my God. So now people in Hollywood are threatening Darren and Chris's families if they don't comply? Tinhats are saying they wouldn't be surprised if someone died in a freak accident to put Darren and Chris in line. How long before they bring up Chris's mom and start getting suspicious?

Anonymous said: Damn it’s real dramatic over in CCLand today. Abby’s “anons” are talking about how someone must have threatened to kill Darren or Chris’s family if Darren didn’t get married. And then we have Abby saying that no matter what happens she won’t abandon them. Yeah, she is definitely setting the stage for claiming someone threatened to kill Chris if Darren didn’t have a baby with Mia. She knows a baby is coming eventually and she can’t let go of her CCThrone.

It’s da Mafia, my friends! 

They are so full of themselves-and so dramatic- it’s terrifying. 

I keep saying that Abby is writing a Telenovela and damn does she love the drama. She’s also desperate to keep her storyline going and there just isn’t a logical reason WHY Darren would be in the closet and married to Mia at this point unless you go for “big threats”. Abby has suggested this vague“threat” theory before but nobody else picked it up so we never had such scary-hilarious promises of allegiance to Criss and Colfer. This is exactly the kind of pithy, over-the-top emotional digging into a cause that social media was made for- the kind in which you have no actual impact but you blog the hell out it like you matter.  

One of the biggest issues with the CrissColfer storyline is why should we be sympathetic to ccDarren and/or ccChris? They are both successful, famous, wealthy, powerful men. Abby’s never-ending criticisms of ccDarren are becoming a problem. While she always blames it on “his team”, most people don’t find it so obviously his team’s fault as evidenced by her Nonnies who then get a lecture on HOW it IS his team’s fault. Of course, nobody is controlled by their employees and ccDarren and ccChris aren’t victims or children. 

Abby delights when she can claim that ccDarren is treating Mia abhorrently because it fulfills her hatred of Mia but nobody else feels so delighted. For instance, she claimed he was trying to pull her in the water during a New Year’s Eve embrace. 

I’m guessing, and we are missing the moment inbetween d goes to dip her so she things she’s getting her kiss but in fact tries to throw her in the water.(X)

The sane among us are disgusted by a claim that he would try to drown his wife. The same goes for ccChris when he publically bullies and shames Mia on social media and his books. Abby’s love of hating Mia often overshadows her need to keep ccChris and ccDarren as victims. 

The basis of CrissColfer is that both men want to be famous and work in Hollywood for the big money and they can’t tell their truth without fear of losing everything. After ten years, both men are no longer the “inexperienced, naive, innocent young men who made bad choices when fame was flashed in their faces” and Abby needs a new spin in order to keep her followers emotionally invested. Throw in a storyline where both men are just trying to stay afloat after their families were threatened and WHOA man, you have two very compelling characters with sympathy through the roof.

Anonymous asked: Let's not forget that with the wedding being the lesser of two evils, one of the threats could have gone far beyond you or C would never be working in this industry again, like you said, the people in power will do anything to hide their sins and there really is no limit, who knows a threat on his (or C's or other family) live could have been made. It sure as hell wouldn't be the first time someone dies in a freak accident because they have dirt on someone (Chris already lost his mom in a freak accident. I can’t imagine he would ruin his entire life over the fear of losing someone else when he understands that life is precious and you can’t control what happens to family members. Or the other argument is why would he allow someone to control his life when the easy solution is to go off to NYC and become an author.  Leave Hollywood behind for the man he loves and living an authentic life. It doesn’t seem like that hard of a tradeoff to me)

ajw720 answered: Nonnie. I’m really starting to question. And m has her family and SS on her side. That’s a lot of power and ruthlessness. (I'm always fascinated by the power that Abby imagines Mia’s family has. If Chris and Darren are powerless then why is the head of Vera Wang’s company so powerful? Mia’s dad owned a small chain of small music venues. He’s likely loaded but not in the BIG powerful world of movers and shakers. As for Sunshine Sachs- they are very powerful and healthy but there is little incentive for them to risk it all by getting involved in little unknown Darren’s love life by closeting him).    

I’ve decided. No matter what they throw at us, while i may not be able to watch as closely, I’m not abandoning them unless there comes a point I think it’s willing. I don’t see that happening. What is happening is not about straight. (What “they throw at us”? This isn’t about you, Abby. Nothing about CC is about you. You’re just a lonely, unstable fan sitting in her living room all alone obsessing about Mia and fabricating outrageous stories about a family you don’t know and a man who doesn’t care about you. I’m curious, what would convince you that he’s willing? You already said you wouldn’t believe him if he told you he loved Mia.  You’re destinated to come out the loser because you refuse to see or accept reality.)    

It’s about hiding sins. If it were just straight as I have repeatedly said it would be done better and with someone that actually makes d look good. (So she’s twisting the story to be about hiding sins.  I’m not sure how forcing the farce to continue is a good strategy to ensure you don’ get caught. It seems like a cut and run strategy is better- preferably with big payoffs. Lots of us DO think Darren does look good. It’s only the people obsessed that he’s gay who don’t like him).

I just hope they have finally aligned with the right people to help them (How would this work? Either Ryan and Sunshine are terrified of their role coming out, all-powerful and threatening his family to keep it quiet OR there are people to align with who can help but not both because people who threaten others' lives for their own interests aren’t going to show up at the negotiation table willing to work out and deal).

flowersintheattic254. @ajw720 I’ll state publicly that I’m with you on that. I’m not going away unless I see it’s willing. Right now it doesn’t seem to be and frankly the more I learn about Holly/wood and how people are manipulated and abused the more I think it isn’t a choice or a very unwilling one. (Why would Darren and Chris stay there if it is that bad?  If Hollywood is one big cesspool then reasonable people would get the hell out of dodge, do something because living in that environment will turn you into that kind of person.  Also, I just have to add that the Catholic Church has an abysmal record on sex abuse of women and children so if anyplace is manipulative and abusive, it’s Abby’s church)

leka-1998 Totally agreed.

I feel like every day I get more repulsed by what the people in that awful industry are capable of.

notes-from-nowhere If it is possible, the more I know, the more I feel compelled to stand up against this habits and fight back. (How exactly will you do that? I’m fascinated and can’t wait to hear)

Nothing will change overnight. Not D’s life, not the ones of the others in his same situation but we can do something. And as much as we could, I’m sure, we will. (No shit sherlock, you’re 10 years  inand no end in sight)

I will accept defeat the day D will show me, without a doubt, that this is what he wants for his life and not matter if right or wrong, I will respect his choice. To date, I don’t think we are even close to that. Time will tell. (Again, what can Darren do to prove to you? He married the woman he’s dated for 8 years, he opened a business with her, he gushed about the wedding, and he travels with her everywhere. When he tells you how he feels about her you all instantly dismiss his words as being contracted or “Mia wrote them”.  You refuse to SEE what is so plain in front of you. I cannot imagine what he could do that would convince you.)  

In the meantime I will keep doing what I do now. (which is lie, twist facts, post Glee photos as CrissColfer, make stupid comparisons, and blow some up Abby’s ass).   

Anonymous asked: I agree about HW and who knows what kind of nefarious shit goes on. The problem I have is his parents not intervening in this . I get there is probably blackmail at this point but surely his parents can see this can’t go on. I’m afraid it’s affecting his family at this point and I would think his dad would take the reigns at some point and say enough. This is the only thing that tells me it’s short term and there is an escape date. I don’t see his parents accepting something permanent.

Do they have a choice though nonnie? That’s the question. How are they more powerful then the heavy weights he’s up against? What has been threatened? I have an idea of where I think this is going but I don’t know and I’m firm there’s 2 distinct paths, one is freedom. The other is too horrifying for words. And I think by the end of the year we will know. (She is sure they will be divorcing after the anniversary and Hollywood airs.) 

Because no doubt this has gravely hurt d and his spirit. And between c and his parents, i’d think they are doing everything to help him win. All parties on his side have to be petrified. Because even if there’s a positive plan in place, what’s to stop it from changing? Because I reiterate. D was going to come out tied to ACS and it went nightmarishly wrong. And he’s well being and safety are at stake for as long as she is tied to him. (She reiterates God Damnit! She KNOWS she was right!!!!!!! WTAF? No, he wasn’t going to come out. He’s told you he’s straight and there is no reason to suspect he’s lying. I love the comments about his safety as long as Mia is around or his image as long as his team is around-He’s fucking thriving. When is the shit going to hit the fan? He won the top four awards, has his own show on a new platform, has a big Broadway show coming, has a Ryan Murphy Netflix show that he helped co-create, Elsie is amazing, StarKid had a very successful year, his wedding is all over the “top celeb weddings” lists, he was busy AF this year and he just bought a $3 million house. It’s been a decade-when will this bad stuff start? ). 

Anonymous asked: I do fear D is in this for the long haul unfortunately. It has slowed down for her a bit post-nuptials but unless this show with RM is serving as an out, I don’t see how D will ever get out of this. We also need to remember she knows too much too at this point. It’s not that easy to get someone with the amount of info she has to just go away. If she’s intent on riding coattails, there may be little D can do to get rid of her. I hope I’m wrong. I want to see him win. But it doesn’t look good. (What does ccMia know that she can use against him? That would mean he’s done something wrong but according to cc lexicon, it’s all done against him, he’s the victim. If anything he would have dirt on her to use) 

I can’t believe how naive I was to think it was as simple as d&c saying no. I doubt that was ever an option and they learned that, after months of fighting post encagement, in the cruelest manner. Honestly I’m feeling almost more heartbroken today then on feb 16 because I’m finally seeing the horrifying reality of HW.Nonnie. Despite the fact that I don’t trust him, I’m praying that RM saw that it serves his agenda and reputation to help d as it would rehabilitate his character much more than to continue to hurt him, because at this point I think he’s the only person that has the power to get him out. Now we wait and see. (I don’t see how Ryan Murphy can serve as both Mafia boss and his savior but I understand that he’s the only one that could possibly play that role right now. There are no other gay Yoda’s in Darren’s life with enough cloud to be the “savior” so by process of elimination, Ryan is the one). .   ’t see how Ryan Murphy can serve as both Mafia boss and his savior but I understand that he’s the only one that could possibly play that role right now. There are no other gay Yoda’s in Darren’s life with enough cloud to be the “savior” so by process of elimination, Ryan is the one).    

I can’t believe how naive I was to think it was as simple as d&c saying no. I doubt that was ever an option and they learned that, after months of fighting post encagement, in the cruelest manner. Honestly I’m feeling almost more heartbroken today then on feb 16 because I’m finally seeing the horrifying reality of HW. (So basically, the original cc storyline isn’t holding up anymore after the end dates passed for coming out- Glee ended, the 8-year contract expired, Hedwig ended, ACS started, filmed and ended, Awards season came to a finish and now you’re hoping the anniversary is the lucky date.  But you need to explain why Darren and Chris have so much power and still are not together so you’re going for something bigger and more sinister.  The problem is that while Hollywood has a seedy underbelly, you can’t take one person’s story and extrapolates it to everyone. Judy Garland may have been drugged but they didn’t know the effect of drugs back then like we do know and the military gives the pilots “go” and “no go” pills to help them perform to this day under close medical supervision)  

[gaygwenpool]

give me literally All Headcanon for that post for Mysterio p l e a s e (also, for the one of my choosing, whether or not you hc he commentates movies while watching them or insists on ABSOLUTE SILENCE)

:D!!! my sweet boy, BLESS you nonnie! 

◉ whether or not you hc he commentates movies while watching them or insists on ABSOLUTE SILENCE IS A FANTASTIC QUESTION IVE BEEN LITERALLY LAUGHIN ABOUT IT ALL DAY THANK YOU

   Both actually! if you try to comment on the plot or react to an actor, immediately you get rudely shushed with the most scorching glare because how DARE you, focus on the ~ART~ you heathen!!! but also the Moment a slightly more advanced special effect takes place, he is all hoppin on his seat excitedly explaining how it’s done and how genius that is, how would he improve on it and how another movie dealt with it, the dialogue for the big plot reveal goin on the screen be damned :’D Also as the movie advances, he starts gettin more and more into long passionate rants either complaining about the lack/surfeit of respect the creators got, how arrogant this one actor is and how he doesnt respect his cues and so on….. lots of the stuff he says is actually pretty interesting but yeah, if you counted on just enjoying the movie, tough luck 

   He really likes watchin movies with people but prefers to see the movie first on his own at least once, to really focus on it. Often, he will watch a movie in the livin room while others do their own thing and he will comment on the good scenes, however if you agreed to actually watch somethin with him and got distracted during screening or worse, was on your phone?? you are dead to him. (and you can expect some …unpleasant surprises in the upcoming days)   

im gonna put the rest under the readmore cuz this is gettin long ^^;;

[ask meme]

☾ - sleep headcanon

Beck is the UGLIEST sleeper, he is the worst. He snores loudly, drools, moves, KICKS, mumbles and has the most vivid wildest dreams. (it happens rarely but sometimes he’ll dream about somethin, wake up and for a while be convinced it actually happened, you know like when you dream about arguing with your friend and being mad at them the next day etc) On the other hand, sometimes, all his features relax, he loses the scowl and looks surprisingly peaceful and happy… oh and he hogs the blanket.  

His sleep schedule is a fuckin mess, he is able to go like the whole week on few hours of sleep total when he is workin on a project but other days he gets grumpy if he doesnt get his 10h of beauty sleep every night.. 

★ - sad headcanon

uhhh i dont actually have much sad stuff for this boy yet, he brings me so much joy that i dont have the heart for that :’’’D (also i like him and chameleon team ups and Dmitri brings enough angst to the table for the both of them)

He really actually died that one time and went to hell (though in Patchwork, im not gonna keep everythin about that Daredevil plot, i really like Mysti being dangerous and actually a worthy opponent but most of it was too fucked up for my tastes…) and well… it wasnt great :’D  it mostly targeted his insecurities about his own talent he buried so deep he almost stopped believing them, the lack of respect and recognition and him willingly throwing away any chance he had at those by becoming Mysterio and of course everything that happened with his ex Brick Johnson…

☆ - happy headcanon

blease consider: autistic Quentin !!!!!!

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

he doesnt have a hair trigger temper like Ock or Electro but Damn does this boy holds grudges over literally everything :’D lots of overcomplicated, carefully crafted revenge plots just for eating the last yogurt in the fridge… He gets frustrated easily, getting snappy and rude, especially if people are not listening to him, but it’s often about the pettiest things, the bigger stuff doesnt affect him as much.  

He doesnt enjoy violence for the sake of violence but he is not above it either, everythin is allowed for his big performance…… he can be quite a good n friendly boss if you listen to his orders and work well but can just as much set you up to die in an explosion, all while smiling and patting you on the back… 

✿ - Sex headcanon

my Mysterio is gay as hell but also somewhere on the ace spectrum… not sex-repulsed but definitely not a high drive either (he feels oddly smug about that, like look at those fools trying to get into each others’ pants, how pathetic, *I* in the meantime have time for things that Truly matter, like recreating every Xmen battle ever with only straws and gum.) 

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

listen, i basically grew up on those “the entire villain team lives in a single place - shenanigans ensue” fics so im not givin up on the Sinister Six HQ, okay. (Chameleon usually finds them a suitable house with enough rooms, as luxurious as their current fonds allow, and he prides himself in putting in lil personal touches that he knows the sin six members would enjoy, for Quentin it’s often very obscure movies, rare memorabilia from his favorite ones, stuff for his illusions, a stolen Oscar…) 

 When these are unavailable (aka superheroes got them busted) or when he aint in the middle of a crime job, he usually stays at one of the Cham’s safehouses (with or without him) and in a few of them, he already has his own dedicated room with some of his fav old tricks on display. Speakin of which, he has a BIG warehouse with most of his setups and stages or at least models. He doesnt really plan on reusing them but he likes having them all together 

♡ - romantic headcanon

((jakjgkfajga im a loser and ended up shippin him with Chameleon and everythin i’ve thought off so far is EMBARRASSING AND CHEESY AS FUCK :’’’’D so im gonna leave those for another time))

Beck being an Extra Bitch he is, lives for the Big Romantic Gestures like in the movies and he often gets so caught up in the prep he.. kinda disregards the person he was makin it for, the making of the effect means more for him than  the actual sentiment behind it… 

(ok maybe One mysteleon hc, while it pains him, Quentin knows Chammy Would Not Enjoy being a target of such grand display… he gotta be more subtle, creating a scene where he could play in disguise and dupe some superheroes mayhaps…) 

♥ - family headcanon

like 99% of the villains and their grandma, his family wasnt great, mum left when he was very young with another guy, his dad considered his passion for movies a great waste of time and let lil Quentin know how disappointed he was at every occasion both vocally and physically.. After the first few broken models and ripped tapes with stop animations that took weeks to complete, Quentin stopped tryin to impress and convince his father about the greatness of special effects.. He joined a boxing club and learnt some other martial arts but as soon as he could, he left to join a proper film school which led to his father dropping both financing and all contact with him. 

☮ - friendship headcanon

Im not even gonna start about Chameleon’s and Mysterio’s friendship because that shit is canon and i cry about it on a daily basis. 

Despite his penchant for Dramatics, the constant Need for Validation and Backstabbing and other Throwing Shit in the Fan just cuz it was narratively better, Quentin actually has quite a few friends? He gets along quite well with everyone from the Sin Six and many other villains and even has some ‘normie’ pals from the film industry or just neighborhood… 

One of his most surprising is actually Doc Ock with whom he gets along even outside of business partners/partners in crime basis. Though maybe not so surprising, Mysterio is quite vocal with his praises when he feels like they are deserved and Doc as well actually admires and recognizes Beck’s talent while it is still enough specific for him not to feel threatened in his superiority (once he tried to improve them and show them to Quentin with his usual arrogance and flair and that was the biggest fight they ever had and they werent on speaking terms for a loooong while after that… Oct cant stand not having the last word so he still modified some of Mysterio’s tricks even after that but he actually cares about their friendship enough to not tell Mysti about it.. Not like he would ever admit that to Quentin’s fishbowl face) 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

like 99% of everythin Mysti does is Somehow related to special effects/film or the Drama in general but my boy is a nerd in general, theater, books, comics, manga, roleplaying games, you name it. He especially likes flashy stuff obviously. 

He really enjoys learning new techniques and figuring out how to make something happen. When he was younger, he was viciously against CGI but later he started to sorta respect it as its own category that needs talent and effort… he still prefers to use the traditional techniques of course :’D (…as traditional as HYPNOTIZING PEOPLE WITH NEURAL GAZ IS) 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

He has a very Complicated relationship with the film industry……. on the one hand, he loves the behind the scenes, the rush, the Action…. but on the other hand, he hates it with a fiery passion, everythin from how you get treated like dirt and the pretentious prizes being awarded just for the Big names and hollywood and everythin turning around the money an-…., he has a very long list and it is alphabetized. (While he has a point for many of those complaints, the fact HE himself never got any pretentious award remains probably the main issue…) 

he absolutely despises people making fun of D-grade shitty movies in the “this shitty horror is so cheesy and dumb it’s funny and i love it” way, either because the people workin on it were good and trying their best but the money or the producers etc ruined it (his experience) and then it’s an unfair critique or because the creators just didnt try hard enough and that’s even worse in his books and this movie should not get Any Attention much less a positive one.. 

he likes complaining and being snarky :’D he enjoys the challenge Spidey sets for them and loves playing tag with him (even when he loses..) He loves the prep before his big shows both alone or with help, the adrenalin when actually pulling it off and when he discusses it with Cham in details. He lives for the applause and recognition and ~Fame~ 

▼ - childhood headcanon

not as much as hc as adopting the Webspinners’ aproach: he spent most of his childhood daydreaming, hiding himself behind the stories and special effects….. not many friends aside from Betsy but he didnt really need them, he wanted audience not pals.. In the film school he started to be more social and communicative, he met Brick there and they started goin out… 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

hhhhh im conflicted, there are like 3 comics where Q is retired because he has enough of superheroes beating him up and he Really doesnt want to go back to it.. I cant see him actually givin up on it totally tho… idk idk

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Like with sleep, it oscillates wildly. He can forget to eat when he is hypefocusin on a particular project (one single chip suffices as nourishment) or he just subsides on ramen for a month but on the other hand he is quite a capable cook. Nothing Extraordinary but he can make enough diverse simple meals. When livin with Chammy, they both enjoy eating out so they do that as much as the budget allows (so not that much, illusions arent cheap…) 

☼ - appearance headcanon

im still thinkin about that one post that described Quentin as a “toenail of a man” and i couldnt agree more :’D very short, pig nose, hairstyle à la Spock, stocky built and weirdly beefy, like this guy’s thigh is bigger than some heads… (for a nerd he is surprisingly strong what the fuck) 

All Mysterios are Good Mysterios but my preferred ones have a bigass ROUND fishbowl, the longest cape and somethin as a belt, preferably sash.. 

ൠ - random headcanon

he actually isnt….. that great of an actor nor director nor creator………………….. (im sorry baby i love you but it’s tru….) he unconsciously copies a lot of stuff he has seen elsewhere, he follows overused tropes, his work is packed with cliches and cheesy over the top pathos… his special effects mastery n creativity with workin out his illusions is absolutely INCREDIBLE dont get me wrong, it’s just… the plot/ideas……..  at first he lived in denial about this still believing 100% his work is Wonderful and Perfect and he is just a misunderstood author… later he decided to embrace it and he is livin the life now :D

[notafraidofstopping876]

An apology and explanation to my followers who are probably sick of all my Twilight posts (and my general nonsense

Frankly, I’m amazed anybody is around for this garbage pile that is my Tumblr...but yeah I know Twilight has kind of taken over my blog lately so this is partially an explanation and also partially some lamenting/reflecting on the shit show that is my life

I’ll level with y’all. Back in 2008, I was in middle school and started reading the Twilight books and was instantly a Twihard. I went to the midnight releases, watched the films over and over, had all the merch, and spent hours on the fan sites and thought about the Twilight universe non-stop. 

A large part of it was my fascination with the vampire lore within the book, the powers, the mythology. I had never been much into fantasy, but these gripped me, and so did the characters. Most of all...I was entranced by the love story. 

(As an adult, I can definitely acknowledge that there are serious problems with the Edward/Bella relationship and series as a whole, but we’ll get back to that).

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t desperately want to experience a frenzied first love with a kind boy. I also don’t remember a time when I ever believed that would actually happen. I didn’t know this in 2008 but I was quickly developing what would lead to depression, anxiety, avoidant personality disorder, and a non-specified eating disorder. I truly loathed myself from a very early age and was very convinced that no one would ever love me in that way...not that I really knew anything about love at that age. 

But I couldn’t help but notice, even in eighth grade, that I was all but invisible to the opposite sex. Over and over adults told me “Oh, boys are just immature, their hormones will kick in eventually too...” So I waited, all the while trying to be available and friendly, to put myself out there for the potential of dating. This continued through high school...and by the time graduation came I’d yet to have a slow dance with a guy and had only one kiss and date to speak of. (The kiss was on that date and was barely a peck on the cheek, which was then ruined when he tried to feel me up without my consent). 

Meanwhile...anytime I opened one of the Twilight books, I was transported into a world where it was possible for a human girl who felt ordinary and out of place to catch the attention of a beautiful, chivalrous, glittering vampire who loved her with an unfathomable passion. Say what you will about Stephenie Meyer’s writing, but her words made me feel like I was the one being kissed, touched, worshiped, everything that I wasn’t in real life. 

I wasn’t stupid, I knew not to expect a real-life Edward Cullen. If my track record was any indication, it was unlikely I’d have a sweeping romance, But I figured it couldn’t hurt to pretend a little and live in the fantasy world for a little bit until maybe, just maybe, I could at least find someone to hold my hand or buy me dinner or something. 

So I went off to college and had become a closeted Twihard since the films had all now come out and the world as a whole was very “Anti-Twilight” and I  was anxious and self-conscious enough to not want to be made fun of by my book-snob friends who made fun of it. I was optimistic about college, especially in the dating department. The new pool of people, surely my chances would be better here?

WRONG. 

Okay, I did have a few happenings...mostly nonconsensual so I don’t count them. I had my first real kiss spontaneously with a stranger that I never saw again (and it was even better than I imagined), some boob action at a party with another guy I never saw again, and one date that had led nowhere. (To complicate things, I also figured out I was asexual my first year of college. While it did clear up a lot of things about myself, it also complicated my feelings about my non-existent love life). 

I know what you guys are probably thinking...I know being in a relationship will in no way fulfill/fix me. I am a very messed up person and will be having to work through all my crap until I’m dead probably...but that doesn’t change my deep longing to find love, even if it’s just once. 

Anyway, I’m out of college now. All of my crushes have turned and run to the hills, online dating has been a bust (only creeps ever message me). I have a great life, I really do, but the longing for love is still potent. 

Randomly my roommate wanted to watch some throwback movies from our teen years and Twilight came up...we rewatched the first movie and it all came crashing back. Of course, now I had Tumblr and discovered the Twilight Renaissance was a thing and had an outlet for my inner Twihard to come out and play. I started rereading all of the books, and all of the Bella/Edward romance is hitting me just as hard as it does the first time. I can’t stop rereading all the passages of Edward being the gentlemen and romantic he is and falling in love with him again...it’s this INSANE dopamine rush just like when I was thirteen. 

And that’s when it hit me...romantically, I have about the same level of maturity and experience as I did when I was thirteen. I’d long ago accepted that Edward Cullen was a fantasy...but I thought that by this point in my life, maybe I’d have had one relationship for the books.

So...that’s about where I’m at. I loathe myself, loathe how repulsive and/or invisible I am to men, and am using a hyperfixation on a fictional vampire as a coping mechanism. It’s probably not healthy but at least for a little bit, I can pretend that somebody is in love with me, even if they’re not real...because at this point I don’t think I’ll find anything or anyone else. 

[trash0lympus]

I Knew You When 1a - Malec fic

So this is just a very early draft of the first scene of the first chapter, but I've made some progress and I wanted to share!  Magnus isn't going to appear for quite a while, I'm sorry.

Title: I Knew You When

Pairing: Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane

Warnings: Some swearing, puberty, light homophobia

Summary: Alec is starting his senior year in less than a month and if he can't find a way to deal with this insomnia he's never going to make it through the year.

Or: The one where Alec and Magnus have the same therapist, meet in the waiting room, and kind of stalk each other for a while.

ONE - Somnambulate

August, 2007

Alec can't sleep. It's nothing unusual, to have his thoughts swirling around in a sickening downward spiral of anxieties. It's the same invasive thoughts he spends his days distracting himself from, only to have them assault him in the safety of his bed.

He rolls over for the hundredth time and punches his pillow in hopes of getting out some of his anger about still being awake at 3:05am, a good four hours after he'd laid down for the night.

It's always the same, a veritable hurricane/tsunami/? On the variation of the theme not good enough/repulsive/worthless/no one would miss you if you weren't around.

Alec punches his pillow again, then throws his face into it and lets out a small scream of frustration. He doesn't have to worry about anyone overhearing, since Izzy and Max sleep like the dead, and his parents' master suite is at the opposite end of the apartment. He drags in a deep breath, meant to calm the frantic staccato his heart is playing in his chest, and keeps his eyes closed while he lets the sounds of New York drifting through his window wrap him in familiarity.

His senior year is starting in less than a month, and Alec is already starting to feel like the might crack under the pressure, his father's voice echoing in his head as a steady beat, 'this is the most important year of your life, Alec. Getting into law school is your only priority. You'll be a Yale man, just like your father'. Or, even worse, his mother: 'Columbia is an amazing school Alec, I spent the best years of my life there, you could be something great if you'd simply apply yourself'.

He needs to deal with this, or he's going to finish his senior year in tatters, his former face cut away to spite his former nose. And as impressive as that college entrance essay might be, he's not sure there's any special admission allowances for partial humans.

Alec snorts at the delirious image his brain conjures at the thought, and then presses his face as deeply into his pillow as possible and groans.

He's going to have to tell his mother. Dad would never understand, his world consisting only of the endless parade of 'get up, go to work, eat dinner, sleep, get up, go to work' - a monotonous, nauseatingly infinite loop of responsibility that Alec can't even conceive of. No, it will have to be mom. Alec can tell her that he isn't sleeping, and he won't have to explain to her the true depth of what's keeping him up most nights, and with how busy she's been since formally accepting a teaching position at Columbia last month, she probably won't care enough to ask any follow-up questions.

With a defeated sigh Alec sits up in his bed and throws off the sheets, knowing that he'll never be able to relax enough to fall asleep now that he's started this train of thought. He needs to make a plan of what to tell Maryse in the morning. Maybe if stayed up the rest of the night it might help his case? If he looks as exhausted as he truly feels the she couldn't possibly say no to his request for some kind of sleeping pills, or really anything. Alec would be willing to try hypnotic suggestion at this point. He's always been a bit of a night owl, too caught up in his own thoughts to shut down when everyone else seemed to, but it's one thing to be getting less sleep than everyone else, and quite another to be getting none. He only hopes his mother doesn't dismiss his concerns as his usual problems dropping into sleep, that she simply makes a call to their family doctor and continues not to look too closely at him.

Robert and Mayrse Lightwood are by no means neglectful parents, but in the last few years they have certainly begun to shift some of their parental burdens onto Alec himself. Robert finally made partner at his firm when Alec was 14, and a few years later Mayrse had offered a position as guest lecturer at Columbia Law, her alma mater. Just last week a formal offer had been made to her to join the faculty in a permanent position, and while Alec had never seen his mother happier, she had been so busy she was barely home at all anymore. With Max being just nine-years-old, and Izzy still 15, that meant Alec was in charge of making sure they stayed out of trouble, went to school on time, and completed their school work. His senior year came with both a blessing, and a curse, however. His parents had made two announcements during a rare family dinner last night: firstly, they had decided that Max was now old enough to start spending the weekdays living in the dorms at his boarding school; secondly, Jace would be moving in with them for the school year.

Jace is Alec's best friend - well, his only friend really. It's too pathetic to even consider Izzy as his friend, seeing as she's a sophomore, not to mention his little sister. But Jace, a year younger, and the golden boy of their school, has been by his side since their first meeting when Alec was 11. Jace had just been adopted by the Waylands. He was quiet, but not sullen, and Alec remembers the strange way that his eyes seemed drawn to Alec just as Alec couldn't keep his own from seeking out Jace. They would spend that first meeting sitting in silence in Robert's study, Alec pretending to read and Jace staring at him while making a poor mimicry of investigating the knick-knacks and awards on his father's bookshelves. It was at school that first week Jace had been transferred in that Jace had come up to him in the yard at recess. Alec had been sitting under a tree, trying to enjoy the last of the weakening September sunshine with his latest book in hand when a shadow had loomed over him and blocked his light. It was Jace.

"You don't have any friends," he has said. Not accusingly, just flat, like he was reciting a fact. Two time two is four, two times three is six, Alec Lightwood doesn't have any friends.

Alec had scowled, but responded simply with "no," and sent a challenging glare at Jace.

It had the opposite effect than he'd anticipated, and he was momentarily baffled when Jace just huffed out a small breathy chuckle.

"Okay," was all Jace had said, and all but threw himself onto the ground beside Alec. "You can be mine then".

And that had been it. Jace would show up next to him at every recess, sought him out at lunch and ate beside him. After a few weeks Alec had snapped and asked him why.

Jace had shrugged and said, "your eyes. You don't tell lies, but your eyes say what your voice doesn't".

It's been nearly eight years since then, and Alec still isn't really sure what Jace meant, but he's never been comfortable examining the reasons why a ten-year-old Jace had already known to read people so well. He was the first person to see Alec, and if he was going to be living with them for the next year Alec didn't know how he was going to keep everything together, to keep his secrets locked away where Jace couldn't read them in his eyes, couldn't see it written all over his face.

Alec figured it out for real at 13, during one of the countless sleepovers when they're wrestling like they always do, but this time Alec really enjoys it. He goes so quickly from tussling on the floor with Jace to running through the bathroom door and locking it behind him. He's terrified that Jace felt it and he's willing himself not to panic. He's had the talk by now, even had a sex-ed class at school, and he tells himself that it was just hormones. It doesn't mean anything, it has nothing to do with Jace, he just got too excited, a little over-stimulated. Almost convinces himself it's true until he has the dream. It was all Jace's flashing eyes, his smile and his chest and his arms around Alec and when he woke up his pajamas and sheets were ruined. He had stuffed them into the garbage chute before anyone woke up. From then on when Jace stayed over they didn't share a bed.

He starts to base most of his decisions on a creeping paranoia of being discovered. He knows, without a doubt, that his parents would not like this, and while he can't put his finger on what it is about him that's different, he knows that it's wrong.

He starts trying to pay attention to the girls in his grade, and panics when he realises that he should have already noticed them. Jace is a year younger than he is and he's been talking about girls for ages.

That was the year before high school. When he started ninth grade he planned to keep flying under the radar, but his parents insisted he needed to participate in extracurriculars for his college applications. He tried to argue that he could volunteer in the library, take extra AP courses, or get summer internships, and while they agreed he should still do all those things they believed a sport would create a more well rounded application. It was the first time they had implied he wasn't quite enough on his own. He'd chosen archery only because the club was small, and he thought that at least it would be easier to hide away in a corner of the locker room inconspicuously while they changed, to lag behind and shower last.

Alec dragged his hands roughly over his face, feeling exhaustion clawing at his body while his mind churned, considering and discarding ways he might bring up the topic with his mother in the morning. His bare feet hit the hardwood floor of his bedroom and he decided a hot shower might be the thing to clear his head, or at least pass some time while he waiting for his family to wake up. There was nothing to do until then but wait.

--

[liebeztod]

a year in solitude.

Nearly a year ago, I wrote about Peter being back in my life.  I wrote about Scott, and how he was married. And very soon after writing that post, I learned Scott hadn’t been separated from his wife while he and I were together. The 5 months we dated, I was the other woman. And it hurt a lot to have been the other woman without knowing it.

So, I did what I thought was right and contacted his wife. And a year later, upon checking in on her, I see she’s forgiven him, and it’s a weird feeling to see a monster like that get something he doesn’t deserve.

But last April, after I had reached out to her, I still had Peter. And now, a year later, I am without Peter, again.

Things seemed well enough. We spoke every couple of weeks, like in olden days. We had Zoom chats, face to face. I never told him about Scott, and I never actually confirmed with him whether his girlfriend moved back to Honolulu or not.

July came, birthday wishes were exchanged.

September came, and I was laid off. And it was a blessing, given everything BMW had put me through, and I felt very free. And Peter was there, and we arranged time for us to Zoom chat for two hours, and he consoled me.

And then November rolled around, and I went to Zion. And I logged into WhatsApp to ask him for his address to send him a postcard, but alas, my message never delivered. According to Peter’s “Last Seen” date, he had last been on WhatsApp on October 31st.

And everyday I went to check, it stayed there, at October 31st. And it felt very much like when he did the same thing in 2017, except in 2017 I would beg him for a response, and the messages would be delivered, and he’d log on but just... not reply.

And now it feels the same, but the circumstances are different, whereas I am not begging him to come back. But perhaps that is because of the logistics of it. Maybe if I knew he were logging onto WhatsApp, I’d be able to see if he was on recently, and I would know my messages could be delivered.

But now, into 2021, his Last Seen date reads, “October 31st, 2020.” So all I can surmise is... he changed his number. It can’t be a hard block because I’ve actually researched a WhatsApp block, and if he were to have blocked me, I wouldn’t see ANY Last Seen date. Not to mention, why block me on WhatsApp but not Facebook, or LinkedIn.

So... he changed his number. And I guess, what I am reading between these lines is, he changed his number and didn’t tell me. So I guess it’s time to let go. 

So I did the only thing that seemed cathartic... I blocked him on Facebook. Maybe he wasn’t even using it, but it’s symbolic, right? No trace of him left on WhatsApp, and I guess... I just wanted to sever what I had left of him on Facebook. LinkedIn doesn’t matter because I don’t use it, nor does he, I’m sure.

What’s hard is I still think of him everyday. I think of Peter in a lot of ways. I think of him as a waste of time, as the most interesting person I ever met, as a devil, as a bastard, as a scholar, as a robot, as a child, and as the love of my life.

I think of the possibility of him coming back. 

When we were reunited in Japan, and when he told me he had a girlfriend, he told me a beautiful lie and said that eventually it would be us. He said, “It’s going to be you and I eventually. Maybe in five years, we’ll finally be together.”

Perhaps I took comfort in it because, not only was it everything I wanted to hear, but... it was beautiful. Rob Reiner couldn’t have written a better line. In that moment, in that hotel room in Tokyo, I stood indignantly while Peter took me into his arms. Refusing to cry, I chose to believe that, yes, we’d be together in another 5 years. I chose to believe that other people get to be with the people they love instantaneously, whereas I was always waiting, always pining.

I pined for Jacob in high school, Esteban during community college, and really... I’ve pined for Peter for over half my life.

I’ve convinced myself there’s a magic in having met Peter, a world away, when I was 12. And now, at 28-years-old, devoid of hope, and truly disillusioned by romance, and traumatized by sex, I am still convinced it has to be Peter. And the sad part is... I think that I know it’s him, that he’s the one, and yet I can’t let him back in. 

We’re 2 years into the “5 years” that Peter predicted. What if he returns, fulfills the prophecy made in Tokyo, and I just throw away my dignity? Like I have before? Like I seem to keep doing with every man I let into my life, into my pants?

What scares me the most is my sister tells me that the things I feel for Peter are not love. She tells me, “I really don’t think you’re in love with him.” Then what is it--this pull, this obligation? Sure, there’s an element of obsession, but sometimes I get scared that what I am in love with is not Peter, as a person, but rather the idea of us. Maybe that’s why he left again. Maybe he’s aware that I don’t love him, but that I love our origin, our starcrossed nature.

Once my therapist asked me why I love Peter, and even when she gave me a whole two weeks to figure it out, I came back with no answer for her.

Right here, right now, I can say this: I love Peter for his sardonic attitude, the way he was gentle when I needed it most. I love Peter because I believe him to be the smartest person I have ever met, for being adventurous and inspiring me to be. I like to think that I am in love with Peter, but never once did I feel like he is in love with me, and yet that didn’t matter. Even with the “5 year” promise, even with the kind words via Zoom. 

I think I’ve also doomed myself because I’ve created so many imaginary conversations with him within my own head that, yeah, he’s so perfect to me. 

And maybe none of that is love, like my sister said. And if none of this is love, then it distresses me to know that I don’t know what love is. I think of Esteban, and Jacob, and guys like Max and George, and even losers like Scott, and think... they were all such vapid feelings. 

With Esteban and Jacob, I suffered butterflies DAILY. And then, once Peter came into my sights on a physical level, Esteban and Jacob were suddenly just... ridiculous fancies.

Max and George... Scott... there was no electricity, there was no longing. And even in terms of sexual desire, well... sex repulsed me as much then as it does now. 

With Peter, I believe love to be painful, and I believe love to be a waiting game, and I believe love to be a crescendo, a true climax. 

So if it isn’t Peter, then it isn’t anyone. And I have tried, very hard, to find it, to let someone new in, but it just sickens me. I am so, so terrified. I am sad because I’ve hardened myself so much after everything that’s happened to me; the sexual assaults, the disrespect, the lies. I feel ruined by the 2 rapes I’ve endured, and faulty because of sex being so terrifying. I feel spoiled and stuck up, but most of all I am just afraid of men. And Peter was the one person I was never afraid of, and perhaps wrongly so given how much I’ve let him destroy my dignity the way that he has.

But that’s just it. I let him do it, and I am all the ruined for it.

[kisathemistress]

Some South Park Headcanons I have

(Because I’m falling for the series again!)

The four main characters:

Kyle Broflovski: 

His personality makes it almost impossible for him to let things go, if it means making someone (other than Cartman) upset or sad. He just want as many people as possible to be happy around him, because if they aren’t he feels like he has failed them. 

This comes from his strict upbringing his parents gave him and from studying/knowing everything (including religious various beliefs) thus he lives his life by the golden rule: “Do not do unto others, that you do not want done to you.”

He believes highly in karma as well, especially the Wiccan belief of karma. Where if you do something kind you will be rewarded with 3 times the kindness, but if you do something hurtful you will be punished with 3 times the misfortune.

Despite being Jewish and claiming his pride with the religion, Kyle doesn’t follow any of the practices most Jewish people do. He willingly eats pork and sometimes attends/helps the local Roman Catholic church (but this could be do to the town only having one church and most of his friends go there.)

Unlike Scott, Kyle’s diabetes isn’t as serious and he can get away with eating something with extra sugars in it without going into diabetic shock. Though he does carry emergency insulin just incase.

Kyle is aromantic and bisexual. He doesn’t know how to react to intimacy or pick up clues that someone likes him “in that way”, he just assumes all positive contact with him is platonic in nature. He has to be directly told that someone is in love with him for him to understand why they are being overly nice to him.

Since he is only an 9/10 year old, he isn’t aware full of his own sexuality, thus acts the way he thinks a “normal boy” should behave. Despite constantly giving away that he isn’t “normal” by his own definition.

Also he still has his pet Elephant, but it has been moved to a Zoo for a breeding program. He goes to visit it him occasionally and is a junior Zookeeper at the park. He’s going to be officially hired to work there part-time once he’s in high school.

Stan Marsh:

He still does drink, but not to the extent that his father does nor does he get blackout drunk anymore. He’s cut back a lot thanks to going to AA, but is struggling with the 12 step program do to his father leaving alcohol in his reach, and offering him alcohol. He’s also the kid that pulls drinks for his friends and for parties, as both his father and uncle Jimbo will buy it for him if he asks.

Stan tries his best to be vegetarian but has no problem with eating meat as long as he doesn’t witness the slaughter and preparation of the animal. (Including fish.) Blood makes him squeamish, and he becomes overly emotional when he sees an animal in distress.

Even though Stan is straight, when he’s drunk he’ll sleep with anybody. Drunk Stan also believes Kyle is his boyfriend and will run to him for comfort. This normally confuses Kyle, especially when Stan rejects everything when he is sober. It part of the reason Wendy decided that she is genderfluid and created Wendyl, thinking it will keep Stan from “wandering” away from her.

Stan is very proud of his gay dog Sparky. He willingly takes him to gay pride parades and events, and voices his support for his dog. 

He still owns that poodle he bought, which he found out was a toy poodle.

If his parents didn’t limit Stan to only 2 dogs, he would have a pack of at least 6, that he’d have follow him everywhere. He instantly can become friends with any dog he meets and feels heartbroken when he can’t take them home.

Stan knows different wolf howls and behaviors, he can almost instantly tell you what a wolf or a dog is trying to tell you. If he ever gets lost in the forest around town. he knows how to find the local wolf/coyote pack to keep himself company.

Out of all the boys, Stan would be the first to go feral if they were abandoned by their parents/society.

Kenny McCormick:

Is literally an Elder God, but only is aware of his immortality. He can’t remember what other powers he has or how to activate them. His real father is Cthulhu, and he hates him.

Kenny cares very deeply for his little sister Karen and older brother Kevin. When he has extra money, he will always buy them something nice. Like a new doll for Karen or powdered doughnuts from the convenience store to share with Kevin, because it’s their favorite treat.

Even though he will do nearly anything for money, he draws the line at eating Hot Rods. (Unless of course eating them would bring his family out of poverty or something...)

Kenny is genderfluid and pansexual. Mostly because he doesn’t care who he sleeps with, especially if their is money involved. Also wearing girl clothing occasionally was at first so he could had it down to Karen, but now he’d proudly admits he does like the look and feel of women’s clothing on him.

He has had pet rats, a pet possum, and raccoon. Currently he’s raising a baby flying squirrel he found abandoned in his yard, and nursing a robin who has a broken wing.

He wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up.

Eric Cartman:

Never thinks things through, and always pays for his schemes one way or another.

Still has a horde of stuffies he keeps in his room and sleeps with. Even having tea parties with them, when his “friends” don’t want to play.

Is an asshole towards Kyle, because he has unrequited feelings for him, but doesn’t want Kyle to know. Most of his plans fall through, because he really doesn’t want to hurt or push Kyle away.

Knows that he should watch his weight and eat better, but subconsciously wants to get diabetes from his obesity so he can be just like Kyle and Scott. He hates that they get special attention to their medical problems at school and thus don’t have to participate in certain exercises in gym.

Cartman is sex repulsed, but is secretly gay. He can’t stand the thought of actually having sex with anyone and believes all intimate contact is rape. 

He once broke up Craig and Tweek when he spotted them kissing at Stark’s Pond, then went on a rant of how Craig was taking advantage of his boyfriend, scaring Tweek into thinking he got all of the STDs.

Kyle has force Cartman to clean up “Zaron” all by himself before, after Cartman broke too many rules they came up with after the Stick of Truth was thrown in Stark’s Pond. Although, Cartman made Butters do it for him instead, when Kyle went home.

Four other boys:

Tweek Tweak:

Wasn’t aware his parent’s put meth and other drugs in his coffee to test the blends into being their customers addicted, until Craig discovered what Mr. Tweak was doing. Though Tweek is too scared to report his parents, Craig has used it as a threat to get Tweek expensive things, like videogames and new brand named clothes.

Tweek is a wonderful cook and baker. He wants to change the Tweak Bros. Coffee, into a restaurant kind of like Tim Hortons, where they serve both coffee and homemade food. Though he is too scared to ask his father to put in a proper kitchen in the back of the store, for him to use. Instead he has convinced his mother to sell his famous cupcakes, he bakes at home.

Even without the coffee and drugs, Tweek would still have his twitching tick. It only acts up when he is stressed out. When he is calm, it’s barely noticeable.

Before he bought Stripe #4 for Craig, he was terrified of rodents, after he fell in love with Guinea Pigs and occasionally will discuss proper rodent care with Kenny. 

Though now he fears that Craig might eat Stripe one day, do to Guinea Pigs being a delicacy in Peru and not knowing what happened to the other three Guinea Pigs Craig has had before Stripe #4. That’s why Stripe is kept over at his house on weekends and not a Craig’s 24/7.

Tweek has a parrot named “Coffee Crisp”, because it’s his favorite snack and the first words the parrot learned. His parent’s bought Tweek Coffee Crisp, to help keep his paranoia in check. 

Coffee Crisp will repeat goverment conspiracy theories do to that fact Tweek listens to them on the radio in his room at night. Coffee Crisp also knows the name of over 150 different types of coffee related products.

Craig gave Tweek a hand knitted Chullo and shall that matched his own, but in green, for his birthday. Tweek is afraid he will ruin them if he wears them, so he only wore the outfit for a day before permanently hanging it up in his closet.

Tweek was questioning his sexuality, but has always been gay. He was just too paranoid about other things to focus long enough to realize this.

Craig Tucker:

Although he behaves like he doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything, he cares deeply on the inside for his friends. He believes showing emotion is weakness and prefers to internalize everything.

He has broken down in front of only two people ever in his life. The first being Clyde after Strip #2 had died, and the second being Tweek.

Craig is aware he is adopted and his native homeland is in Peru. He’s half white and half Peruvian native, and was sent to the US for adoption after people started trying to worship him as the Guinea God.

He’s also aware that he is a god and has god-like abilities. He just doesn’t like to use them and prefers to live a “normal” mortal life. He is aware of Kenny being an Elder God and his immortality. He’s willing to teach Kenny how to be responsible with his powers if he ever find out how to use them.

Craig has eaten Cavy and knows how to make traditional Peruvian dishes that use it, do to being a deity in his homeland. He likes it on occasion, but would never eat a Guinea Pig that he intends to keep as a pet and has buried his previous Guinea Pigs in the back garden of his home. He even had little funerals for them where his friends attended.

Craig likes to knit and will spend hours in his room listening to music and knitting. He hides this from his dad, because it’s not a “manly” hobby. Though every christmas he gives his family handmade sweaters, scarves, mittens, and socks, as gifts.

He doesn’t like coffee like Tweek, but his favorite drink is French Vanilla Cappuccinos. Which he has with whipped cream added, do to his sweet tooth.

Craig can’t dance, but tries to at parties and has fun regardless at his failed attempts. It makes Tweek laugh anyway.

Finally like Tweek’s twitching, flipping people off is a tick Craig had developed. Do to internalizing all of his thoughts and feelings, he automatically flips the bird when he feels upset or angry over someone or thing.

Clyde Donovan

Is just as pervy as Kenny, but is straight. 

He has problems with over expressing his emotions and is always crying about something. He uses Craig as his emotional support constantly, and sometimes will sit eating ice cream and watching romance movies alone.

He is embarrassed by his colostomy bag and only his friends (and Mr. Macky) know about it. He has one do to surviving rectal cancer when he was five.

He wants to own his own mexican themed restaurant when he is older or a Taco Bell. He was very disappointed when the government canceled building a giant Taco Bell during the events of the Stick of Truth.

His favorite Raisins girl is Lexus and always request her to be his host when he eats there. He wants to ask her out, but is too scared she will reject him.

When the kids play “The Kingdom of Zaron” now, Clyde remains as a separate third faction and the main “antagonist” of the game, when the humans and elves aren’t fighting each other. He rules over all the kids that want to be “monsters” or non-human or non-elf. Humans and elves can join his side if they proved to be “evil” enough.

Clyde has worn women's clothing for fun before. He likes flowy skirts and dresses. He wants to go to prom one day in a dress and maybe convince his future wife to let him wear the bride’s gown to their wedding.

Whenever he hears that Tweek is having a “backing meltdown” he gets excited, since Tweek makes too much and usually shares by giving him three boxes of baking. He hides this from his dad who want him to be careful of his weight.

Token Black:

Likes to buy expensive things for Nicole and his friends. He has no idea the value of money and genuinely gets confused when his friend say they or their parents can’t afford something.

Kenny McCormick creeps him out, and he thinks his family just chooses to live in a garbage dump. Though he does get along with Karen McCormick and had bought her lunch a few times, since he thinks it’s cruel for her parents to not give her money or food for school.

He is the second person Clyde will run to when he is upset, though unlike Craig, he dosen’t really know how to react or comfort Clyde. He normally just stands there with Clyde crying in his shoulder, awkwardly patting his back saying “there, there...” until Clyde feels better.

Contrary to belief (and Cartman) Token doesn’t like listening to Beyonce or hip hop type music. He actually likes listening to old folk music and polkas. 

Weird Al Yankovic is his favorite entertainer and “Just Eat it” is his favorite song by him.

Token sometimes says racist things against his white friends by accident. After which he profusely apologizes if he catches himself or someone calls him out on it.

He rather play chess than play football or basketball.

[imzephyrkai]

My story with abuse

I wanna tell you guys about something that happened to me. Its something that really messed me up and i wanna make a post so anyone else that has been through this with this man can know they aren’t alone and they don’t have to keep quite about what he did to them.. There is this man named Phillip Wray. He owns a booking company called Syntheticide Entertainment LLC based out of Northern Arizona. We actually started talking because we both loved music so much.. I asked for a ride to couple shows one of them being his show because he had one of my favorite locals on it. The second show he asked if it could be a date and i said yes. I thought why not. You know? I was like let me give this guy a chance. He seemed nice at first. I should've known something wasn't right with him when he grabbed my hand when we got out his car at the show and would not let go. Like i really wasn't all that comfortable holding his hand like that. I really didn't know much about how to act as i really didn't do a lot of dating growing up.. He actually knew this and took advantage of my lack of knowledge. He asked me to be his girlfriend after he took me home that night, i stupidly said yes. He made it Facebook official and i felt kinda special because i was actually in a relationship and this was something kinda new to me. The friend i live with let him stay at her townhouse after one show we went to soon after we started dating so he didn't have to drive 2 hours in the middle of the night back up to Cornville. That night he pressured me into sex in her living room. Her dog tried to cock block him which i wish she had been successful because i really didn't wanna have sex yet, i was kinda sheltered growing up so i wasn't out of the house much and i was kinda sex repulsed. He knew this, i told him and he didn't care. He just did what he wanted and forced me to do something i wasn't ready for. Soon after he asked if he could pick me up from Phoenix and bring me up to Cornville where he lives for a week that December so we could spend more time together as he said and also because he wanted me to meet his mom.. I told him i wasn't so sure about that and i wasn't sure if i was really ready.. but he kept begging me to come up. He pressured me into coming up. I really wasn't ready for that at all. When i came up, i was really scared. I noticed when i went up there that his mom did everything for him, Now i want you guys to remember that this man was 31 years old at the time. I noticed she did all the laundry, she cooked, she cleaned and took care of the dogs on top of being responsible for her own elderly mother. Now originally he told me that his mother and grandmother only lived in the house with him because his mother was disabled and needed someone around her so she didn't get hurt and his grandmother was to old to live on her own. His grandmother was too old to live on her own and did need someone around a lot of the time but his mother didn't need him or his help. She paid for a lot of things for him. He was a full grown man basically being taken care of by his mom. He had and i think he still has it a second company where they go into restaurants and clean the stuff in the kitchen. He made very little doing that for he had to pay his helper most of what they made because he didn't want the guy leaving him to do it alone. So Phillip had barely any money, He never took me on actual dates. He told me he owned his home and he didn't. His mom pays for the mortgage. All these lies came out about things he had told me and i did get a little worried. I brushed it off though because he had convinced me that it was normal. His grandmother actually pulled me aside and said to leave him. I didn't listen to her and i should've of. Phillip has anger issues and if something doesn't go his way or someone did something to upset him he would blow up. He took a lot of his anger out on me. He threw things and would grab onto me really hard and yank. He left bruises which i made sure to hide. I didn't want anyone to see them. He eventually got to the point where he would hit me.. He told me i was in the wrong, He told me it was my fault that he hit me. I have never told anyone a full detailed description of how he treated me because it really is hard to talk about. My friends know he abused me and mistreated me but i left out details because i was really scared of what he would do to me if i said anything. He gave me a ton of rules that i had to follow to keep him happy and to be a good girlfriend. He said i couldn't hangout with any of my guy friends unless he met them and talked to them one on one even if i had known them for years. He didn't really want me hanging out with anyone. I would go see a movie and he would yell at me for seeing something he wanted to see without him and how dare i do that to him. I would go to shows with the girl i live with and he would be messaging me the whole night because he thought i would cheat on him which i never did. He really wanted to control me. My friend became worried about me and took time to sit down with me and tell me that this isn't normal and that how he was treating me was abuse. I told her it was fine because at that point i felt i couldn't leave him. I was really scared to leave him, he would say if i ever left him he would kill himself and then he got to the point where he said he would ruin my rep and make sure i couldn't get photo passes for shows and would make sure i couldn't work in the music industry ever or even that he would harm me. He even threatened to take my cat and harm her.. People ask me all the time “well why did you stay with him so long? This cant be true, you were with him so long.” People need to realize i was scared. I was terrified, He was very abusive and i had seen stories about women who tried to leave there abusive partners and had gotten killed. I didn't know what to do. I was just so scared. 

 Here is the part about his cheating. I brought over condoms to his house because he didn't wanna keep buying them and i had some. He stopped really wanting sex as much towards the end which was so weird because he wanted to fuck all the time before. I actually noticed the condoms were disappearing and we weren't having sex. When he was sleeping one morning i actually took his phone, There were so many inappropriate messages from several different women that dated back to the start of when we had started dating. I took pictures of some of the messages with my phone quickly and put his phone back. I told his grandmother and his mother what i found... I didn't say anything to Phillip at the time because i was actually kinda scared. With past abuse and how he treated me i was so scared to confront him. His mother told him i went through his phone and he told me he set it all up because he apparently knew i was gonna snoop.. Which is complete and utter bullshit because some of the messages were dating back to the start of our relationship. He wanted to work past me going through his phone, which he said going through his phone wasn't okay even though shit got really suspicious.and obviously he was fucking around with other women. He still found a way to blame it all on me and made me out to be the bad guy. 

It took me time to finally get out of that relationship. I told him i couldn't take it anymore and he told me i was a horrible person for “giving up” on the relationship. I didn't want to keep quite about what he had put me through, i made posts about it and he made a huge status saying i was the monster and put all the blame on me. But there were many people who witnessed the abuse. He turned many people in the local music scene against me by spreading lies that i had talked shit about them. Which there were people i had never even met he was telling that i said shit about. There are several people who know what he did to me, they knew about the abuse and everything he put me through but because they knew him first they didn't care. A women reached out to me and told me Phillip had sexually assaulted her. And even with her coming out and telling people this through my posts people still didn’t care, They still supported him. Its so disgusting to see bands booking through his company and supporting someone who abused me and raped another woman. 

People tell me to just get over it but i cant. You try getting abused, forced to do things you don’t want to and cheated on. I am really damaged because of him. I don’t wanna have sex with anyone ever because i was forced so many times. I don’t wanna be touched and i don’t even hug people that often anymore like i use to. If someone touches me in anyway i usually flinch. I have really bad trust issues now and i am scared to get close to anyone which has hurt friendships and possible relationships because they just really don’t understand. I know there are probably more women out there he has hurt but they are too afraid to do anything because he has threatened them. He threatened me for so long in many ways. I am sick of being quite about him. He is a horrible person who put me through hell. Its time he is exposed. People need to know exactly what he did. If you have been hurt, mistreated, abused or raped by him please contact me, you are not alone. 

to be honest there is so much more i could still say about him, about more cases where he hurt me or how he forced me to do something i wasn't comfortable with but that would make this post so so so much longer and i would just repeat myself with how much he did things and how he always was abusing me. Simple Phillip Wray lied to me, abused me, forced me into unconformable situations and had been cheating on me the whole time. He is a bad person. Stop making excuses for him.

I am not a liar, and i am so sick of people telling me it didn't happen. My friend watched it happen. People saw the abuse. People knew it happened, they just didn’t care..

Hope all this really makes sense. I am trying to write this quickly because i want to have a post up since i was bullied into taking all the other ones down. People need to know what he has done. I really hope he doesn't do this to any other girls. I hope he spends the rest of his life alone because of what he has done. He should not be allowed near women. If you wanna ask me any questions or contact me my twitter is @fxdedcreep you should be able to DM me but if not just send me a tweet and ill follow you so we can talk // i really hope this makes sense to you all. And i hope i didn't ramble on too much, i just wanna say as much as possible and tell people what he did. I am not the best writer so my grammar might be off but i got my point across.