#but there’s a difference between being a sick freak (affectionate) and just being the worst guy around

[sickfreaksirkay]

actually it does annoy me a bit how awful kay is made out to be in 90% of texts like whenever he’s introduced it’s always with a paragraph about how he’s mean to everyone and hateful and how it ruins any good aspects of him as a knight. i would like one text where kay is an actual character and not just The Rude Guy Who Everyone Hates. i don’t mind if it’s like kay being a dick or making a fool of himself or other characters making fun of him because that’s fair enough and funny but when it’s his whole character :/ how did we get here from the welsh cei

[askbohemiancompany]

It has been a wild few weeks for Gwen. Between meeting gods, following a royal like the world’s worst groupy and getting a prank shot down, the psychic needs a way to relax.

Too bad Gwen is not able to take a break right now. She is standing before a small house, overlooking the beautiful water that can be seen from Driftveil City.

The merc pushes the button on the doorbell. The sound of multiple locks being unlocked can be heard, which puts Gwen at ease. On the other end of the door a bisharp wearing a light green peplum approaches.

There are many striking details for this steel type. For starters, where parts of the bisharp ‘armor’ and rib blades should be, there is thick black fur on her entire torso and arms close to her shoulder. Speaking of the upper arms, the shoulder pads that gave bisharps their soldiering look are non-existent. On the sides of her head are tall pointed yellow ears, matching the skin tone on her face. Finally her canines are far more pronounced, remaining visible even when she closed her mouth

Upon seeing the gothitelle, her mouth would not stay closed very long, as she stares in awe at the psychic before her. “G-Gwen? You look so…”

“Different? Yeah I caved and decided to evolve. It has been a long couple weeks and I want to at least see two mons that can help me unwind. Sorry for the short notice Lingua.”

Shaking her head, the bisharp almost jumps forward, giving Gwen a hug. Which would be a surprise to anyone who knew Gwen, as she is known for not being an affectionate person.

“No, it's great! I haven’t seen you in a while and I’m sure they would be happy to see you,” turning behind her, “Hey Posy look who is here.”

A child approaches the gothitelle. This child is a gothita, but the natural bows the gothitelle line usually have, resemble pink fairy wings. The young psychic stares at the merc for a good few seconds before finally saying something.

“Aunty Gwen!” The child then hugs the gothitelle leg. “You got so big.”

Giving a sensible chuckle, Gwen returned the hug. “Hey there Posy! I have grown lately. Shows that can happen, even when you get older. How have you been? School has been going good for you?”

As soon as that is asked, the child runs off to grab something and present her a paper with a big 94% in red lettering. “I was one of 6 people who passed this test! I get to draw and color during the retake!”

“Well well well! Look at you. The smarty in a sea of dummies!” Gwen is keeping her language clean around this little bean of a child.

“Mommy got me ice cream after!”

Gwen bends down and pats her head.

“Aunty Gwen. Why did you get so big?”

With that brief bit of eye contact, Lingua knows there is more to the story. Something that is not appropriate for Posy to hear.

“Say. Posy, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit. Gwen and I need to talk about boring adult stuff.” Lingua says in a gentle tone.

The childs gives a confused glance. Gwen, noticing this, decides to step in. “Once boring adult talk is done, we can do some coloring, alright? Besides, the reason I evolved was simple, I got sick of being called a kid.”

This lit the child’s face up. “Ok great!” With that, the munchkin ran off. Leaving the two women alone.

Now is the time for some difficult discussions.

“Gwen. I’m sorry to hear about Floyd. The few times I have met him he was a good man.” The bisharp put her hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Gwen, while clearly not happy, gently grasped the bisharp’s hand.

“Floyd and I are in a line of work where this kind of thing happens. We knew one of us was going to die early,” a twinge of rage creeps into the psychic as she clenches her fist. “I know who did it, and they are one of those freaks that attacked Arcadium. She also has a hand in the death of one of my friend’s entire family. We both have been making plans to track down and kill her.”

A brief appearance of dark energy forms in her eyes. Lingua notices this as well, but does not know how to change the topic, so she just allows the gothitelle to continue with what has happened with them. Gwen, after realizing she is emitting energy, calms herself down.

“Tying into that, we also have to guard Nigel for a job. None of us are happy about it.”

“You are guarding Nigel!?” Lingua’s voice briefly got loud before stopping herself. “Why are you and your team guarding that bastard?” A hint of venom comes out as she describes the clefable. Her fangs are bared and the heckles on her visible fur raised. She even gives a low growl.

“He took a plea deal about ratting his whole network out. Basically it is the second biggest bust of a pokemon trafficking operation.” The psychic sounds matter of fact in this tough situation.

“I’m. I don’t know what to say.” Someone who Lingua intensely despised is finally being held to face the weight of his incalculable crimes. Some of which are inflicted on her and warped her life as a child. “Is there any sort of punishment for him?”

Gwen shakes her head no. “After this, it is witness protection then he has to live off the radar.”

Now it is Lingua’s turn to get angry, the rare moment of her trembling, fangs still out to see. Gwen knows it is about as intimidating as a stuffed animal, but still this is not healthy for her to do.

“If it makes you feel better I know some inside information not connected to the case,” Lingua’s brow is raised. “The money he got from killing that one centaur thing ran out, he dumped a lot of it into a club that never opened, he bought a car that was frozen over and the little bit he has left he cannot even spend on what he wants due to not wanting to attract attention.”

This is little comfort for the hybrid. “I’m glad Nigel is facing some justice. Better too late than never.” The bisharp gives a seething, bitter hiss. It did not make her laugh like Gwen hoped it would.

“There is one more thing I need to make sure you are aware of.”

There is more? What Gwen had advised is already bad enough. Lingua prepares for the worst.

“We severed ties with our former financier. She and my boss did not exactly end on good terms,” Gwen grabs both of the hybrid’s shoulders and stares her dead in the eyes. “Please stay away from Arcadium and Black City. If anyone starts following you or you see anyone you do not know outside your door, call me immediately okay?”

After this impassioned warning, the psychic pulls the dark type close to her in a hug. Gwen’s tense breathing and heart beating can be felt by Lingua. This hug takes the hybrid’s breath away.

“I just…I have made your life more difficult. You deserve better than all of this. I’m a parasite, not a friend.”

Shaking her head, the hybrid pulls Gwen into her own embrace. “Gwen. If it wasn’t for you I would not be alive. I wouldn’t be reunited with my family. Most importantly, I would have never met Posy. You will always be one of the best things to happen to me.”

Gwen smiles and allows the hug to continue. The hybrid’s gentle heartbeat matched in rhythm of her own After all, Lingua always had a calming effect on her.

“I will be careful as I always have been. Let’s go back inside. I think Posy will want to do coloring with you.”

The gothitelle nods, a seldom sweet smile is plastered on Gwen’s face. While it is not entirely happy, Gwen is going to enjoy the downtime she can get.

[rosethesongbird]

Whump/Hospitalization Writing Exercise

Hi all.

Under the cut I have placed a short little ficlet type thing I wrote a while back, as a writing exercise. It’s not a fandom thing, just something I wrote. Very focused on hospitalization/medical procedures. Whump and hurt/comfort fans may enjoy it, but don’t expect a sequel or a continuation or anything (it kind of ends in the middle, because I didn't want to write any more.)

XO -R

Scott suddenly was aware of his body.

He was lying down. He could hear some muffled noises--maybe speech, maybe not--and felt the sensation of something in his mouth. His throat felt like it was on fire. There was a dull ache--like a bruise--in his belly, and it felt bloated and swollen. He was exhausted. Something was resting on his shoulder, and he couldn’t tell if it was soft and light or impossibly heavy. He felt the sensation of small things touching his body, all over his chest, and something was touching the top of his head, methodically and rhythmically. Slowly he was able to discern the noises. A constant beep-beep-beep noise, a sound like air rushing--maybe breathing?--and two voices--women--both saying his name. They sounded calm, but expectant of something. He struggled to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, and the light in the room was so bright. He didn’t have his glasses on. One of the women became distinguishable. One of her hands was resting on his shoulder, gently but firmly. Her other hand was stroking his hair.

“Hey, Scott,”

She was speaking so softly she was almost whispering. She had a young, calming voice.

“Can you hear me?”

He tried to respond but no sound came out. He slowly blinked his eyes. The other woman came into view. She was wearing a blue uniform.

“Can you squeeze your hands for me, sweetheart?”

Her voice was tender, but no-nonsense. This was her job. She placed something in the palm of both of his hands. He tried desperately to squeeze. He couldn’t tell if he had moved or not, but she must have been satisfied, as she affirmed him and moved on. The ache in his stomach was growing stronger, and things in the room were growing clearer. A cold sensation brushed across his feet as the woman in uniform--a nurse, he guessed--asked him to move his toes. His mind was still fuzzy, but he tried his best. The other woman had grown quiet, but was still stroking his hair.

“Alright, Scott, I’m gonna shine a bright light in your eyes, so just look at me for a minute, okay?”

The nurse’s face came into focus. He looked at her, but could barely keep his eyes open. She was pulling on his eyelids. The other woman said something, quietly, and the nurse responded, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. He felt like he was fading again.

“Sats dropped for just a little bit, there,” said the nurse, suddenly crystal clear.

“You back with us yet, hon?”

He blinked his eye open and looked out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t remember closing his eyes. The woman by his bedside was looking at him, appearing like she was concerned, but trying not to show it. He knew her, but couldn’t remember who she was. The nurse suddenly came back into focus.

“Do you know where you are? Just nod or shake your head, honey. Don’t try to talk. Just a little movement is fine.”

He shook his head. If he could speak, he would have said his best guess was “Hospital” but which hospital, and where, he had no idea. The ache in his stomach had graduated to pain. He realized he wasn’t in control of his breathing.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. You’re in the ICU. You just had a liver transplant. Do you remember what happened?”

He shook his head again. 

“Well, maybe that’s good. It sounded like you were in pretty bad shape, if what your friend here says is any indication.”

He turned his focus to the other woman. She had long brown hair, and freckles. Lots of freckles. She looked tired. A moment of clarity came over him. Her name was Lily. He tried to speak, but only a moan escaped his chapped lips. He shushed him, and gently touched his face with the back of her fingers.

“It’s okay, I’m here. Don’t try to talk, you’re still very sick.”

The nurse was typing on a laptop, going back and forth between that and examining the many machines that were in the room. Her brow was furrowed in focus. Lily was still stroking his hair.

“Alright, Scott, one last thing before I leave you alone for a little while. On a scale of one to ten, one being no pain at all and ten being worst pain imaginable, what would you say your pain level is right now?”

He lifted two fingers on his right hand, and struggled to lift his left arm. It felt like a hundred pound weight.

“Seven?” He nodded his head. His hand dropped to the bed. “Okay, got it. I’m gonna turn your pain killers back up, then, so you might feel a little funny, but we’ll get that pain back down, okay?”

He shut his eyes. He was sure it was just for a moment, but when he opened his eyes again the light coming through the small window was different, the nurse was gone, and Lily was reading a book. He tried to get her attention, but all that came out was somewhere between a wheeze and a moan. She started shushing him again, and set down the book.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m right here,” she laid her hand on his chest, gently rubbing small circles, careful to avoid the leads on his chest and the large incision on his stomach. “You feeling okay? Your color’s starting to come back.” She reached forward and applied something to his lips. Chapstick.

“Do you remember anything yet?”

He shook his head. Memories were floating around--of her, his apartment, her car, pain, tears--but nothing he could knit together to figure out the story. He shut his eyes tightly. The beeping and breathing noises seemed deafening, and the light was hurting his eyes. When he opened his eyes, she had gotten up and closed the curtain.

“Is that better? Sorry, I forgot you’re like a little mole in your little burrow,” she said, smiling. “You’ll start feeling a lot better soon, but for now, just rest. I have to go, but I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. Be nice to the nurses.”

He closed his eyes again and surrendered to sleep.

-----

Lily arrived at the hospital the next morning, at eight o’clock sharp. The very beginning of visiting hours. She had been able to take a hot shower the night before, after leaving the hospital, but hadn’t slept very well. It had now been six days since this whole ordeal started, and although she was feeling optimistic, she was still concerned for her friend. She and Scott worked together, well, she was sort of his assistant. He was a professor at the local college, and she hung out with the entire science department, running errands, organizing papers, being a TA when she needed to. Essentially, a secretary on steroids. Although she was more than 10 years younger than anyone else in the department, they affectionately referred to her as “the department Mom.” She had grown to like everyone there--but especially Scott. They had a special friendship. They were very different, yet they “got” each other. She had been the one the others contacted when they realized they hadn’t heard from Scott in over a week.

She walked in to the nurse’s station, handbag in tow, visitor badge on, tucking her long straight hair behind her ears. By now, she knew the drill. One of the nurses at the station sprung into action as soon as they saw her.

“Hey, Lily,” said the taller blonde woman.

Of course, they knew her by name now. Before she could respond, the nurse continued speaking.

“Just wanted to let you know before you went in--the night girls said he got pretty agitated during the night. They’re weaning off the sedatives, so he woke up and was really confused and got upset when he realized you weren’t there.”

“Jeez, alright. Thanks for letting me know. Is it cool for me to go in?”

“Yeah, let me come with you, just to make sure.”

The nurse got up from the desk to escort her. She didn’t take offense to it, it was her job, after all. Lily pinched the bridge of her nose when she thought of Scott waking up in the night without her. He was getting pretty attached.

-----

Scott stirred in his bed. He was groggy, and his body had a weird fuzzy feeling. He opened his eyes slowly. Lily and the nurse were having a quiet conversation on the other end of the room. He could barely make out what they were saying.

“...so that’s when I…”

“...poor thing, no wonder he…”

“...touch starved...freaked me out, and…”

“...don’t blame you, it would have upset me too…”

“...going to...ventilator...today…”

“...you’re the expert, just...what to do”

Lily walked over to his bedside. He tried his best to focus on her, away from his growing anxiety and still aching stomach.

“Hey, hon.” She smoothed his hair. He needed a shower.

“I heard you woke up kind of upset last night.”

He nodded. He woke up and almost immediately had a panic attack. He hated hospitals, and it seemed that the combination of that, waking up nearly alone, and the right (or wrong) medication caused him to have an immediate freak-out upon being woken up by the nurse.

“You’re okay, I’m here now,” she said. He realized that he had teared up when thinking about last night.

“I’m going to go, just for a little bit. I’ll be back, I promise. It sounds like they’re going to try and let you breathe on your own, so as soon as they’re done with what they need to do, I’ll be back, okay? You’re going to be fine. You’re doing awesome so far.”

He nodded, trying to give her some reassurance--but mostly trying to reassure himself. Lily smiled and left the room. A number of nurses came in, and he could tell the medication flowing into his bloodstream was turned down. He quickly became more and more anxious. The pain in his belly grew sharper. He looked down at his hands and noticed how bony they were for the first time since he was here. The nurses were helping him sit up, away from the bed. It had been a while since he was upright. He wasn’t sure how long.

“Alright, Scott, can you feel that tube in your mouth?”

He nodded slowly. He could tell now that it wasn’t just in his mouth, but down his throat. It was very uncomfortable.

“Okay, so the doctor has given us the OK to go ahead and remove that, so we’re going to do that now. You might feel a little short of breath, but we’ll be watching your O2 closely so don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” The tall blonde nurse smiled. He was afraid.

-----

Lily sat in the waiting room, reading. I have to stay calm, for his sake, she thought. It seemed like the only thing that was keeping him from freaking out was the fact that she wasn’t--and, of course, plenty of medication. She suddenly was aware of the sound of Scott coughing, gagging, and wheezing. She wanted desperately to go in, to comfort him, but knew that she would just disrupt things. He was a grown adult, and would be fine in situations like this on his own. Plus, she wasn’t a nurse--and they knew what they were doing. After what seemed like the longest thirty minutes of Lily’s life, a nurse came in and smiled at her and said she was allowed to come in now. While walking down the hall, she explained that he was breathing on his own, although he seemed a little distressed, so they went ahead and put some anti-anxiety medication in his cart. He was still on some pretty heavy painkillers, but they intended to wean off of those next. Lily nodded. Sounds pretty normal, she thought. I think anyone would be anxious after what happened. The nurse knocked three times on Scott’s door, then entered.

Lily walked in and gently placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. He was more propped up than he had been for the past few days, but he still looked completely asleep. “The extubation process is pretty tiring, so he’ll probably be pretty drowsy for a while. His throat will be really dry too, so we’ve got some water here that he can drink. Just let us know if you end up needing more.” “Sounds good,” said Lily. “Thanks for all of your help.” The nurse smiled and left the room. Lily looked down to see his eyes open. She smiled. He normally had the brightest blue eyes, but they had been sort of glassy and watery since this whole situation started.

“Hey,” she said. “Welcome back,”

“Mmh,” he groaned. “Lily,”

“I’m right here, it’s okay,” He took a shuddering breath.

“Water,” he whispered.

-----

The sensation of a straw brushing past Scott’s lips was one he never thought would be so comforting.

“Whoa, there, easy,” said Lily, moving the cup away, to his frustration.

“Don’t chug it, you’re gonna make yourself sick. Or, sicker, anyway.”

She brought the cup back to him, and he sipped this time, instead of gulping. He finally felt satiated, and laid back on the pillow. “What...happened?” he said. His voice was atrophied. His words barely came out, and he already felt out of breath.

“Do you remember anything at all?”

“Bits and pieces, but… not much.”

Lily sighed. He had never seen her look so concerned before. Then again, he didn’t know what he looked like, so maybe he shouldn’t blame her.

“I mean, where do I even start? Do you know what day it is?” He frowned. “I know it’s February, but…”

“No, Scott. It’s March. March 4th. This all started six days ago.” Six days? “What happened? I feel disgusting... everything hurts.” He started to tear up again. He was used to being alone. He wasn’t used to being this dependent on someone else.

“Well, it’s kind of… a long story, but I get the feeling we’ll be here a while, so I’ll start at the beginning.”

[manatehispants]

No, You Left Me

It’s been three and half months since Dean had come back from one of the darkest places of his life. As unbelievable as it sounds this place was that if being a demon. There had been many unimaginable terrors of this time in his life. He had committed just about every unthinkable act in the book. In fact he had become so nasty that even Crowley, the King of Hell had wanted nothing to do with him in the end. Most of it the elder Winchester brother tried to block out with cases and drinking. But late at night he would wake with memories racing to the front of his mind. The worst memories weren’t of the fighting or murder he committed, but of the joy he had felt during this. Castiel and Sam always told Dean that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t him who had enjoyed it. It was something else! But Dean knew the truth. He knew they were wrong. Something in him was broken even before this all happened. Some part of him had enjoyed every moment of being a demon and being Crowley’s best friend. Crowley.....That son of a bitch was to fault for this. He had caused all these sleepless nights, all this chaos and when he realized Dean was more broken than he was.....Crowley had thrown him away. Even now sitting on the edge of a cheap motel bed Dean felt a rush of embarrassment wash over him. His hands balled into fists and his head hung low. What was so wrong with him that everyone left? How did he become so broken that the only people who remained in his was his brother and an angel who didn’t know any better? Why did everyone leave?

Dean scowled down at his lap trying to push these thoughts from mind. If he sat there thinking on this too much he was liable to do something more messed than what he planned on doing already. And what he had planned even in his current state of mind he knew it was dumb. Two days ago he had left Sam and Castiel. He had told them he was going to meet up with an ex girlfriend. Both Sam and Castiel knew it was a lie. They knew Dean was trying to ditch them, but what could they do about it? They couldn’t force him to stay by their sides. The more you tried to tell someone like Dean to do something the less likely he was to do it. So, against their better judgment they had let him go after getting a promise that he would keep his phone on and be back within a week. Maybe this break from them would be for the best. Maybe he finally get out of the slump he had been although nobody really believed this. Castiel and Sam just hoped that Dean didn’t do anything too dumb on his own. Castiel had asked if they should follow after him. Sam had been tempted to say yes, but ultimately decided against it saying Dean was a big boy.

It was uncertain to Dean how long he had been sitting on the bed, but finally he rose up. His eyes flickered the floor. Around the messed up queen bed were scattered beer cans. Just beyond that there was a Devil’s Trap craved into the cheap wood floor. Candles were placed around it along with other some other things. The room was set up for a demon summoning. Not just any demon. Oh no. There was only one demon Dean wanted—No needed to speak with and that demon was Crowley. Dean hadn’t seen or heard a peep from that son of a bitch since everything went down. Needless to say the demon had a lot to answer for. For every monstrous thing Dean had done as a demon, for every night he has woken up in a cold sweat with thoughts of the past, for every damn thing that demon has done.....He was going to answer for it. Just thinking about it all was getting the Winchester heated behind the collar. As he began the ritual Dean already started questioning his actions. Wasn’t this exactly what he would advise Sam against doing if things were turned around? The absolute worst time to summon a demon is in a highly emotional. Desperation, sorrow, and anger, they are what fuel demons and give their soulless lives meaning. It’s these emotions that allow for them to dig their claws into a human and twist them around. No demon in all of creation was more talented at this than Crowley. And still, Dean couldn’t resist summoning him. Candles were now lit and the necessary words had been said. Everything was in place. Only one thing was missing....Where the Hell was Crowley? Dean glanced around the small room. Nope. No Crowley. Dean growled under his breath.

“Figures. Anytime someone actually wants you around you won’t show, right? I should have just went somewhere and shouted for you not to come then ya would have ca—“

The candles flickered and like a rabbit being pulled from a hat Crowley wasn’t there one a second and now suddenly he appeared. Dean got lucky. Hell’s King was exactly where Dean wanted him....Right in the Devil’s Snare. Crowley looked at Dean, he then looked down at the ground, and immediately saw the predicament he was in. Raising his brows he once again the hunter. He knew Dean was mad at him. Hell, he would be pissed if he was Dean too and it was part of why Crowley had almost ignored this summoning. Why his demon lackeys had begged him not to come. He knew he should listen to them, but there was something about these Winchesters. He was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Only unlike the moth, Crowley fully knew he would get burned every time he got too close to these men. Sam he could resist maybe even kill. But Dean was different. For some sick reason he would always answer Dean.

The two had an understanding of sorts. They would push each other to their breaking points, mock one another mercilessly, and even have the occasional throw down with one another. But at the end of it all they had an understanding that they needed each other. In a sick way Dean was the only being Crowley could maybe possibly trust. He loathed the flannel wearing duo that was Dean and Sam, but at the same when it came time to throw his eggs in a basket it would always be theirs. He let out a soft chuckle and took a step towards Dean causing the other man to tense up. Crowley stopped inches from the edge of the markers to his current holding cell.

“Can’t blame a girl for getting dolled up for a night out can you?”

Came the self proclaimed “New Devil”’s explanation. Dean rolled his eyes. Crowley looked no different than normal. He had one a black custom fit suit with dark crimson colored tie. His shoes were some over priced sleek black dress shoes. Dean on the other hand looked a mess. His hair was out of place. The blue and black flannel shirt he wore was days pass needing a wash. His jeans had several food stains on them and for some reason he was currently wearing only one sock. It was obvious Dean hadn’t slept any time recently. The elder Winchester didn’t understand it. How could Crowley show up here and act like nothing was out of the ordinary for them? How could he ignore everything that had last transpired between them? Why was he being so.....Normal? Why was Dean feeling like he was standing before an ex girlfriend who had broken his heart and moved on? Too much liquor and not enough sleep. That was surely to blame. A thousand insults sat on the edge of Dean’s tongue yet none would leave his mouth.   You’d never guess it from Crowley casual mannerism, but the silence was killing him. Being here with the man he damn near affectionately called “Squirrel” was painful. When Dean had been a demon they shared something. Crowley had felt a real connection for the first time since he become what he was. That is until Dean went full psychopath on him. He had to cut ties. Save face while still had some to save.

“Funny isn’t it? I come all the way here.....You’re welcome for that by the way.....But you’re the one who looks like Hell. You’re wearing flannel worse than normal. It’s offensively impressive. Now why don’t you be a doll and tell Daddy what is you need?”

Look of disgust came across Dean’s face. He thought he was going to spew vomit all over Crowley after hearing him call himself “daddy”. That was the last thing he wanted to think of the man being to him. He pointed a finger at Hell’s King.

“Dude! Don’t ever say that again! And you know what you said before you try asking!”

“And you’re avoiding answering me by being all shout-y. Real mature. Stop wasting time, Squirrel. Some of us have things to do. Realms to run and lives to destroy.”

Countered Crowley his tone now showing irritation. His temper was always short, but this interaction had him on edge. He didn’t like that being here made him feel.....Something. He was a demon, he shouldn’t feel at all! That was supposed to be the beauty of being soulless! It was why he could do such horrendous things and think nothing of it. Or at least he had been able to until he crossed paths with this man and his insufferable younger brother. Dean gritted his teeth. He never should have summoned this asshole, but what was done was done.

“You turned me into a freaking demon, Crowley! Did you really think I was going to forget about that? That I wouldn’t be pissed and come gunning for you!?”

Raw emotion was too clear in Dean’s voice and he hated himself for not being able to hold it together better. For a split second Crowley looked from Dean. He couldn’t believe it, but he felt a small bit of guilt. As twisted as it sounded he hadn’t gone into things meaning to upset Dean. Honest! He thought he was doing the hunter a favor. He was freeing him the same he had been freed years ago when he became a demon. Why couldn’t anybody see this? Why couldn’t he understand it? His eyes locked back onto Dean and Crowley scowled at him.

“I freed you and we both know you loved every damn minute. Don’t bullshit a professional bullshit. What are you really mad about, Squirrel? Are you mad at me for giving you a taste of freedom or are you mad at yourself for not realizing how good it would feel? Please don’t tell me you’ve summoned me for a whole “feelings” talk. If so, spare me the torture of it and end me now.”

His mouth hung open in a mix of shock and anger. He wasn’t mad at Crowley exactly. This was how the ex crossroads demon had always been. This was expected behavior. He was a demon and this is their nature. To be cruel and uncaring. Dean was disappointment in himself, because some part of him despite knowing had expected more of Crowley. He was mad because what Crowley said was painfully true. He had been kidding himself earlier when he tried saying this was to have it out with the demon and make him pay. As good as punching someone would feel.....He didn’t want to hurt Crowley. Not for this. Cocking his head to the side Crowley watched Dean with curiousness.

“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue.”

Without responding Dean picked up the knife he had used to crave the Devil’s Trap. Crowley frowned confused as ever while he watched the elder Winchester brother bend down and destroy the marking freeing Crowley. This caused the King of Hell to retreat further into the Devil’s Trap. He didn’t trust whatever was happening for a minute.

“Get. Out.”

This was all Dean could get out as he gritted his teeth together. Crowley’s eyes went wide. Maybe it was stubborn pride or perhaps it was that nagging feeling for Dean which he couldn’t explain, but Crowley didn’t budge.

“Didn’t you hear me? Leave.”

“Oh I heard you. But I don’t take orders from you. You don’t get to summon me and send me away at will. You wanted me? Well you got me now deal with it.”

A snort escaped Dean. He shook his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It had been so stupid to call Crowley here. He should have listened when Castiel told him not to leave. He should have gone done to the strip club and drowned his sorrows there. Grabbing a duffle bag off the ground Dean went to the door.

“Fine. You stay. I’ll go.

This was all the fight Dean suddenly had left in him. He felt drained and exhausted as he made his way out to the car. Crowley stood in spot. He knitted his brows together. For once he didn’t know what to do. He shook his head.

“Feelings. Who the Hell needs them? Not me.....Not me.”

The King of Hell muttered softly. Raising his hand to the side of his head he snapped his fingers.

“Till we meet again.”

Crowley said louder before vanishing from the room knowing the two were fated to meet again sooner than later. If only he had known just how soon that would be.

[fisheoctrashdump]

Willow 1-20 e w e

Holiday

She's not a big fan of holidays. Growing up, she didn't really celebrate holidays with her family. She didn't dress up and go trick or treating or get presents on christmas. She learned to hate pretty much every holiday, but her favorite will be Valentine's day. She loves the idea of making chocolates for all the people she loves (both romantically and platonically) and having an excuse to be so full of love for her friends.

Cooking

Willow isn't technically bad at cooking, but she's much better at baking. It's something she enjoys doing a lot, and she feels very fulfilled when she shares her creations with her friends and family. She thrives on compliments for a lot of her ideas and actions, but most of all for baking.

She doesn't have the passion for regular cooking, so most of the time when she cooks she tries to rush through it.

Sleeping

Willow had to learn to be a light sleeper. Noises and lights will keep her awake, so she has to be in total darkness and silence to fall asleep. Movement on or near her bed is also sure to freak her out.

She sleeps completely wrapped in her blankets like a little burrito.

I keep imagining that after she gets used to the Lovelace family and feels comfortable being there, she lets Dobby sleep on her bed ;w;

I also keep thinking about Willow talking softly to Zeron in the dark when she's overthinking and can't sleep. Even if he's sleeping, she feels better after she unloads all of her worries and anxieties, leading to her actually being able to sleep.

Driving

Willow can't drive, actually. (Not just because she's not old enough yet lol)

She has semi frequent syncopal episodes, commonly due to stress and fear. She can't and won't be able to drive because of it.

Bathing/showering

She hates showering and tries to avoid it for as long as possible. She hates looking at her body. It makes her feel sick and uncomfortable. It also has to do with the fact that she can't get motivated to shower as often as she should.

Hugging

She likes hugging others, as long as she is comfortable around them. I think she will very often try to get hugs from bleblesscra, Galatea, and Zeron in the future.

Kissing

Willow feels suffocated when being kissed. It's a psychological thing related to her trauma. I'm not sure when she will feel comfortable enough for mouth kisses, but cheek and forehead kisses are fine owo

Sex

Willow lost her virginity when she was nine. She is still sexually active, but not by choice.

General physical contact

Again, she doesn't mind it as long as it's with someone she's comfortable around. It's very obvious to see Willow flinching away from Erika's seemingly affectionate touch, no matter the circumstances. She probably wouldn't be too comfortable with Arvid touching her, either, but for different reasons. Currently, she is really starved for attention and human contact, and I imagine becoming friends with Zeron will mean Willow looking for any and every excuse to be physically close to him.

Physical appearance

Other than the picrew thing I did for her, here's a few little other things about her appearance

Willow has naturally black hair

She bites her nails, so her fingernails are always short

She chubby ;w;

Wardrobe

She wears a lot of purple, blue, and yellow. She also tries to wear hoodies, high collared shirts, and chokers to cover the hickies on her neck (or at least try to). Doesn't stop people from seeing them and nicknaming her "slut" for it lol

She also tends to wear baggy clothes to conceal her body, and wears more layers than necessary if she knows she's going to be alone with Erika at any point that day.

Jewelry

She doesn't wear a lot of jewelry. She wears chokers as her main accessory, and she really likes snake themed jewelry if she's feeling up to wearing it. (Like rings, necklaces, and earrings)

She will get a vertical labret at some point in the future, and I can also see her getting an industrial piercing of some kind, but I'm not sure exactly what kind yet

Nickname

A nickname I've been crying over for the past weeks is Cupcake. I'm not sure who comes up with it, but the nickname makes Willow incredibly happy, and a lot of her friends and family pick up calling her that nickname (even Arvid.) I've had a few ideas on who comes up with it, and I think either Sacra, Galatea, or Blez? Those three stick out as most likely in my mind, for some reason.

Dancing

Is ice skating kinda like dancing? Lol

Either way, nobody can convince Willow to dance. A shame, cause she would actually be pretty good at it. She feels too self conscious to do so, like everyone would be watching her if she did

Singing

She doesn't sing much. She has a pretty decent voice, but she won't use it often. I imagine Arvid encourages her to sing with him later on because he's a sucker for dramatic duets lol

Anger

She doesn't really get angry. All of her anger is usually converted into sadness, and she's more likely to cry during a stressful event.

Soft spot

Arvid

Cute pokemon things. Especially desserts and plushies.

Snakes/ferrets she like the long bois

Favorite possession

The choker she stole from Arvid. She jokes that she needed it more, especially since she was able to steal it from him so easily (and he didn't notice it was missing for nearly a month)

Favorite photograph

She currently doesn't have one. I'm gonna take a pass on this one, because I'm really not sure.

Relationship with ___

Erika

Willow has a lot of complicated emotions involving Erika

The most prominent being fear. Willow is terrified of Erika and the things she does, not just to her but also to other people. She has a certain level of adoration for Erika, however, because Erika was the only person that pretended to give a damn about Willow for, well, basically as long as she can remember. Erika of course used this to her advantage and broke Willow's spirit with the many horrible things she did to her.

Despite everything, Willow remains obsessed with Erika because she doesn't believe there can be any other way. She is aware that Erika sees her as useless and disposable, but sometimes when Erika is showing her the attention she craves, Willow convinces herself that that is what it means to love someone.

She tries to fight against Erika when they are alone together, but ultimately will lose. It's a common occurrence between them, and some days Willow wonders if fighting back is even worth it.

Erika being removed from her life (in whatever way we decide to go about it) will feel like both the best and the worst thing to ever happen to her. Erika has Willow convinced that they need each other, and working through all the damage and trauma Erika caused her will take a significant amount of time.

Arvid

She feels safe with Arvid. That's the main point of their relationship, is that Willow clings to Arvid for a sense of security.

Initially, Willow felt like she and Arvid had a lot in common. She watched most of the school harass him when she entered middle school, and she understood the feeling. She watched Arvid from a distance, wishing she had the confidence to talk to him, until seventh grade. She finally forced herself to make conversation with Arvid, and hoped for the best.

Getting to know Arvid provided Willow with a lot of relief, also. She had someone she could escape to when she absolutely needed it, and he never pushed her to talk about anything. The more she got to know Arvid, the more she identified with his unspoken feelings of isolation and fear of abandonment.

She realizes she has a crush on Arvid shortly before he starts high school, but having a crush on him causes her so much grief because 1) Arvid is gay, and she knows this and 2) some part of her feels guilty for feeling that way about someone, almost like she's betraying Erika somehow.

Arvid and Willow don't get a chance to hang out as much now that he's in high school, and she's mostly gone back to the way things used to be. Alone and unwanted by her classmates, with no one to escape to.

Galatea

I'm not sure when or how Willow becomes friends with Galatea, but I just imagine their friendship making Willow feel so safe and happy. I'm sure at first the age difference will make her nervous, and she probably won't trust being alone with Galatea no matter what, but I imagine Galatea has very friendly vibes in her own unique way, and because of this Willow warms up to her pretty fast.

In addition to always trying to impress Arvid, Willow will also try to impress Galatea almost constantly. She will also often give Galatea gifts.

Something else I've considered for their relationship is Willow having a crush on Galatea, but not like in the way Razi does or in the way Arvid and Fel have a crush on Chuck.

Because of her past experience with her relationship with Erika, I imagine Willow being very confused about how she feels for Galatea. The only older sister figure in her life before now made Willow feel like her emotions didn't matter unless there was sex involved. With Galatea, Willow will feel as though at some point to keep her around, she has to do the same as she did with Erika before. Hopefully by this time, Willow will be in therapy and be able to figure out how to ensure her relationship with Galatea remains a healthy one.

Bonus random things I thought of/info I wanna share ;w;

Arvid leaning in to Willow for their first kiss and Willow immediately passing out (kinda funny when you think about it but also :( )

Willow is nonbinary, but she doesn't have specific pronouns. Most people just use she/her and she's fine with that

Her favorite color has been purple pretty much her whole life. She didn't consider blue a favorite color until she met Arvid

Willow enjoys a variety of different music genres. 2000's - 2010's pop is the one she enjoys most, but all her favorite bands belong to different genres (Like Simple Plan, Mindless Self Indulgence, Hey Violet, Halestorm, and NF)

The scenario you came up with Willow asking Zeron to give her a mohawk will be canon (at some point after they meet, probably also after she is adopted)

She has a suicide note saved that she intends to give to Arvid, because she knows he's the only one who would care enough to know her final thoughts

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 17

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 1,921

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: None

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Sitting in your American Literature class, you smiled as the professor bounced around. Not literally of course, figuratively. It was refreshing to see someone that was so passionate about the subject they taught, which in turned helped him to engage his class with the day’s lesson and his students actually learned from him.

It was a win-win situation.

But your mind was far from the Literature class that you loved. Not only was it early – eleven in the morning – but your thoughts were centered around two things. Obtaining another cup of coffee, and Hoseok. More specifically, the way that he used his hands and mouth on you last night.

Hoseok had been more affectionate these last few days, even more so than usual. At first, you thought it was because he felt bad about the decision to keep your relationship a secret from Sue. You figured that this was his way of trying to make it up to you somehow, even though you were the one to suggest it.

He was already a cuddly person, but he acted as if each touch and kiss was the last. It started from the minute he woke up and lasted until you fell asleep. On a normal day, you typically didn’t see him in the morning because he went into work earlier than you unless it was day off. But lately, you’ve been waking up to him nuzzling and kissing your neck and shoulders, and most importantly, your neck. He always apologized, but the second he kissed your lips, it was like a surge of electricity traveled between the two of you. Hands would roam, the bedroom would suddenly get hotter, and it was all too easy to forgive him and get lost in each other before the day began.

Then it wasn’t just happening in the morning.

Even when you were trying to work on homework or was attempting to relax on the couch, curled up into his side. He was like a starved man at times. A starved horny man in fact. Trying to sleep at night seemed to be the worst though.

The two of you slept together in your bedroom now. After that first morning, you told Hoseok that if he wanted to move his things into your room that he was more than welcome to do so. So that night, when you were getting ready for bed that night and he followed you to your bedroom, butterflies had been flying in your stomach.

But now, he could barely keep his hands to himself. Although you made it clear that you couldn’t have sex every night, he was having a hard time controlling himself despite respecting your wishes. A simple goodnight kiss was turning into a twenty minute make out session that left your skin littered with hickey, various articles of clothing thrown on the floor. Somehow, he kept to his promise there was no sex, but now both of you were left sexually frustrated.

“Class ended you know.”

Jumping in your seat, you looked to the seat to the left of you to see Johnny, thus breaking your train of thoughts. He raised an eyebrow and pointed at the clock. “Come on, what’s gotten…” his words faded out as he looked back at you, his nostrils flaring as he swallowed. “Oh God. Tell me you’re not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about.”

You tilted your head, confused as you started to pack up. “W-what are you talking about?” Slinging your bag on your shoulder, you reached up to casually scratch the underside of your jaw, trying to avoid his gaze. Considering that your thoughts weren’t exactly rated pg-13, you weren’t too keen on admitting them.

Johnny took another deep breath, his eyes darkening. “I can’t believe you.” He didn’t say another word as he hurried with his own bag and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you out of the class with an iron grip. He didn’t stop there. No, he led you out of the building and headed straight to the parking lot for students. You couldn’t even put on your hat because he was moving so fast. With his free hand, he pulled out his keys and hit a button, making the lights of a small grey car light up. He wasn’t wasting any time.

“Johnny, what the hell has gotten into you?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

His blunt answer surprised you. While he was always straight to the point, this time it felt like he was disciplining a child. Keeping his word, he turned his gaze on you once the two of you were safe in his car and the doors were locked. “You do realize that as a hybrid, with our enhanced sense of smell, we can smell when a person is aroused.”

Your eyes widened in shock, shaking your head. “I’m…I’m not aroused.”

“Really now?” Johnny crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against his seat, his nose scrunching up every now and then. His eyes were still darker than you were used to seeing on him, the pheromones you were unknowingly giving off affecting him. “Okay, tell me what you were thinking about then.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Johnny, no.”

“Are you forgetting that you helped me through my heat? Honey, I know what you smell like when you’re horny. And so won’t every other hybrid on this campus if you head back out there right now.”

Feeling like your back was against a wall, you sighed. You weren’t even sure why you were getting so defensive. Johnny was a great friend and you trusted him. He helped you with Hoseok once before, maybe he might have an idea as to what was going on this time. “I was thinking about Hoseok,” you finally murmured, knowing he heard you perfectly. “He’s been…acting strange.”

Johnny frowned, but waved his hand. “Okay. Weird how?”

You squirmed in your seat, slipping the gloves off your hands. “He’s been so touchy lately. It’s like every time we kiss, he can’t control himself and it leads to more.” Sighing, you tugged at the scarf that you had left wrapped around your neck, taking it off so Johnny could see the hickeys that Hoseok had left the night before. “He’s not forcing me into anything, but he’s horny every day and night lately.”

It felt like you making this out to be all Hoseok’s fault, but it wasn’t. If you didn’t have anything to do, didn’t have work or school to worry about, you’d gladly crawl into his arms and let him have his way with you. But you had your responsibilities and he had his. When Johnny didn’t say anything, you glanced up at him.

He was biting back a smile, but when he saw the confused look on your face, he forced himself to not laugh like he wanted. “Honey,” he gently said. “Do you know when Hoseok’s last heat was?”

“I don’t know, why does that…oh.”

Oh.

Every hybrid went through a heat each month. Instead of there being a designated mating season, there was a period of time during each month where the hybrid experienced a need to mate and have offspring. It was different for every hybrid though. The duration, the intensity, it all depended on the individual. No two hybrids had the same heat and this was a result of their animal DNA being combined with their human DNA.

In a way, it was the hybrid equivalent of a woman’s period.

With modern medicine of course, scientists were able to create a pill that would suppress they hybrid’s need to mate. At first, everyone thought it was a great idea and gave it to their hybrids without a second thought. But as years went by, the side effects started to become noticeable. While it stopped their heats, the medication also messed with them internally, sometimes making the hybrid infertile or, they would still be fertile but instead of having a heat, they would be severely sick for that time period.

You had never asked Sue before, but since Hoseok came to stay with you, you never once saw him take any medication. Even if he did, it was always Advil and that was because he was sore from dance.

“God,” you breathed out. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Let me guess, you have heat ridden horny Hoseok at home?”

Narrowing your eyes at Johnny, the corner of your mouth twitched. It was a little funny if you thought about it. When it happened with Johnny, you knew exactly what was happening and he had just been freaking out. Hoseok on the other hand, he knew what was happening and was trying to take care of it himself, and you were blind as a bat to it.

“Thank you, Johnny,” you answered instead, sliding your gloves and scarf back on, this time taking the chance to add your hat on too.

His laughter filled the car as you got out, effectively ending when you shut the door. Your own car wasn’t too far away, and once you were inside, you sent Hoseok a text while waiting for the heat to warm up.

On my way home.

A minute later, it vibrated in your hand.

About that, I called out sick this morning. I’m not sure you’re gonna want to be around me.

You rolled your eyes, grinning as your thumbs ran over the keyboard.

I know. Your heat started, didn’t it?

How did you know?

Giggling, you shook your head.

You were pretty obvious. I’m coming home, all I can think about is you. I’ll be there soon.

Your phone didn’t beep with another text. Instead, it rang as Hoseok’s caller ID appeared. With a smile, you held it up to your ear and answered the call. “I’m in my car now. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Strawberry,” Hoseok said, his voice strained and catching your attention. It sounded like he was in pain. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, attempting to gather his thoughts. “Baby, I won’t be able to control myself. It’ll be different from the other times. And I’ll…I’ll want to mark you. And if I do that, that means our scents will be intertwined and you won’t be romantically attracted to other people…”

“And it means I’ve accepted you as my mate,” you gently interrupted. Inside your chest, your heart was racing. Even now when he was obviously having a hard time controlling his hybrid side, he was still thinking about you. He was still giving you the option to leave if you wanted. To stop this before it got too serious. “Hoseok, I’ve accepted you since the night we kissed. But honestly, I’ve been wanting to be with you for a long time. It just took you moving in with me to realize that.”

His line was silent except for his shaky breathing. You wondered what he was thinking, wanting to know what he thought about what you just said.

“My heat takes three days,” he warned. “And baby, I’m a dog hybrid. It’s gonna be rougher.”

“I know.”

“It’ll be nothing like what that ferret did.”

You chuckled, glancing out the window to see other cars leaving the parking lot as well. “Good. Because you’re gonna mark me.”

Hoseok released a low growl and you closed your eyes, heart thumping in your chest. It was just a phone call but your body was already reacting to his voice.

“Hurry home baby. Please.”

[padfootagain]

Cute Alphabet : Peter Parker

Here's another Cute Alphabet ;) I hope you like it!

Like any other of my Cute Alphabets, I've answered to all the 26 fluffy questions, each corresponding to a letter.

Gif not mine

Word Count: 2719

Affection : What are those little things they do to show you that they love you?

 Touches. Not in a sexual way but in a supportive and affectionate way. Holding your hand, touching your arm… especially your arm. He loves tracing patterns upon it with his fingertips. The gesture becomes something he does out of habit, absentmindedly, whenever he is thinking.

 Birthday : What do they do to celebrate your birthday? What is the thing you need to do make them happy on their birthday? Are they good at giving gift?

 For your birthday, he prepares a surprise party with your closest friends. He fills up your room with balloons and confetti. He makes the cutest birthday party ever.

He also stays during the evening and the night, and for once, he doesn't go through the streets and stays with you instead… or well, at least he does if nothing too serious requires the services of Spider-Man.

 For his birthday, you spend the day geeking around, basically. Which makes him extremely happy and excited. You spend the night watching horror movies and eating candies, and talking about movies and video games, and playing with your friends. And you all have a lovely time together.

 He is surprisingly good at making gifts. Because he's a good listener, and knows you, and knows what makes you happy, so he always offers gifts that you adore.

 Cuddles : Do they like to cuddle? Big spoon? Little spoon?

 He loves cuddling in your arms after a long day. He never feels as relaxed as he is when you're holding him tight. You both play big spoon and little spoon depending on your mood, and who had the worst day. But let's be honest, he adores being little spoon.

 Dating : What are they like on their first date? And those after that?

 He is a ball of nerves for your first date. He has asked for advices to Aunt May about what he should wear, and what he should do, and where he should take you. He spends two hours trying different clothes, to settle in the end on a sweater and a dark pair of jeans that make him look not too casual and not too overdressed either.

He takes you to the cinema for your first date, and he is so scared before you arrive. He is there early, and he keeps on pacing while he waits for you. But once you're here, he merely needs a few minutes to relax and be himself again. After all, you enjoy spending time together.

He does blush an awful lot throughout the whole night though.

 Evolution : How fast does your relationship evolves? Weeks, months, years?

 You both take things slow, but then, you're both in High School together, so it seems only natural. Even if you both try to play it cool, you soon have feelings for each other, and let's be fair, that makes everything become quite serious, no matter what you try to convince yourselves of.

 Flirting : Do they flirt a lot?

 Oh dear, he tries, but he is the cutest cupcake and ends up being more of a blushing mess than anything else. His brain turns blank whenever he tries to flirt with you. It's only when you are already together as a couple that he gets more comfortable in that game and actually manages to flirt. But he is always more adorable than anything else even then.

 Generosity : When they're with you, is it about you or about them?

 Because he's Spider-Man, there are moments when he will not be with you. But you have to accept it, and it's not about not caring about you, it's about caring about everybody else too.

He is very caring and loving when the two of you are together, and he would do anything to protect you and make sure you are happy. And you would do the same for him.

 Honey : Do they use pet names? What's their favourite for you and for themselves?

 'Babe'. 'Babe' all the time. He loves calling you like that! And he has this cute little pout when he wants you to do something for him and asks in this low voice 'babe, please…' and you can never resist him.

 He loves it when you call him by any pet name, really, it makes it so intimate. But he adores 'love' and 'baby' most of all.

 Isolation : How do they react when they are away from you?

 He misses you a lot, and is worried about you. If he is going abroad, especially if it's because of Tony Stark, he keeps on sending you texts and photos and videos of everything that is going on. Whenever he calls, he is talking at full speed out of excitement, and you can clearly imagine him jumping through a room and mimicking a fight and imitating the sound of explosions… he is just overexcited to share it all with you – even the parts that are supposed to be secret, but then, it's you.

You love it when he does include you in his adventures like this, except when he wakes you up at two in the morning with a shout through your phone "Y/N GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED!". Then you're not happy. Then you want to punch him so you can go back to bed.

 Jealousy : Are they jealous? How do they react if you are jealous?

 If he is jealous, he won't say anything. He's going to close on himself, and merely act a little cold, when in his mind he is battling against self-worth and wonders if he really is worthy of you. Although, your reaction to that other guy's flirt brings a smile to his lips: you are pretty direct in letting that boy know that you're not interested.

 Kisses : Lots of them? Peppering ones? Languid ones?... What about your first kiss?

 You kiss for the first time at the end of your first date, and it feels pretty magical. You are both blushing like mad once your eyes meet again after you part, and can't refrain a little giggle.

 He loves kissing your forehead, especially after he comes back as Peter after having spent several hours as Spider-Man. Tiny pecks dropped on your skin in a reassuring and tender way that never fail to make your heart speed up.

 Light up : What do they do to make you feel better after a rough day? How can you lighten their mood?

 He holds you tight and listens to what happened to you. He'll lie down with you, holding you under the warmest blankets. He'll watch a romantic movie with you and give you your favourite ice-cream. He's very supportive and if you're crying because someone was mean to you, it's Peter Parker who's gonna kick their arse, not even Spider-Man.

 Mommy : How do they react to parenthood?

 Let's take a little jump through time then, and let's settle in about ten years from now.

And Peter, is freaking out.

How is he supposed to handle a baby? How is he supposed to deal with that tiny little thing that is going to be so fragile? He is both overexcited and terrified that he might not be good enough. But then the baby arrives, and he is just so proud and overcome with so much love that these two feelings overpower all the rest.

He's a great and supportive dad, and he will always make sure that his child is safe.

 Nurse : How do they take care of you when you're sick? How do they behave when they are sick?

 Noodle soup. He makes sure you are eating it. He asks his aunt to make some for you, and he brings it to your home. He watches movies with you when you can't sleep, and stays until you actually manage to get some rest. He's adorable here again.

 At first, when he gets sick, he acts like it doesn't matter. And you have to get angry at him for him to stop getting out there in the streets to play the superhero when he has fever and can barely stand on his feet. You team up with Aunt May to take care of him and make sure he stays in bed. How many times do you find him trying to escape his room instead? You have lost count…

 Objects : Are there any object, song, place that have a particular meaning for them or for the two of you as a couple?

 That cinema where you spend your first date becomes a place where you go very often. It brings back memories, and you go there at least once a month. When the two of you get through your worst fight, and you both wonder if it means the end of your relationship, you both go to this cinema. You didn't expect to see the other there too, and actually, you don't even go there to watch a movie, it's just the memories that you were looking for. But when you see each other, you can't stay mad at each other and you quickly run in his arms.

 Partners : Are they looking for flings, one-night stands, partners to be with until their last breath? What makes them fall for you?

 When he takes you on a date, it's because he wants to be with you, and it's not about a mere fling. He wants to be your boyfriend and he wants you to be his girlfriend, and if he wants to take things slow, it doesn't mean that he expects a mere one-night stand either.

 He adores your smile, and your laugh, and all the tiny details that make you be you. He loves the fact that he can be himself around you. You have similar tastes and it makes everything easier between the two of you. He loves your sense of humour, and your kindness and your strength and your silliness… in a word, he adores you.

 Quarrels : How is it to have a fight with them? What do they do to make you forgive them? What do you need to do to make them forgive you?

 Fights are rare, but when you do fight, it's generally a serious crisis that make your whole relationship tremble. But in time, you love each other too much to stay apart.

 If you're mad at him because he took risks while defending the streets of New York, and he comes back with bruises and cuts, then he is likely to appear on your doorstep the next day with your favourite flowers or chocolates and a sheepish smile on his lips. And that is generally enough for these tiny crises.

If he is the one who is mad at you, you will apologize and just talk about it all with him.

 Anyways, for a major crisis, you both merely need some time.

 Rings : How do they propose? The wedding? The honeymoon?

 Here again, let's make a little time jump ahead. When he proposes to you, you've been together since high school and you both still love each other deeply. He prepares everything to propose. He has planned every detail. It's going to be romantic and you're going to love it.

A shame some megalomaniac has decided to terrorize New York that very night and Peter has to leave to rescue everyone…

… and you are dragged in the whole drama too.

At the end of the night, you both come home with bruises and cuts and you patch each other up, you are exhausted, and just happy to be alive. He guesses that he will ask you again later, he will merely have to plan it all once more… but you find the ring as it falls from the pocket of his trousers. And when you walk in the bedroom with the ring in your hand and a questioning look in your eyes, he has to ask you there and then. It's not how he had planned it, but it doesn't matter. Plans never matter when you love each other.

 The wedding is beautiful. Tony Stark is involved in the preparation and he sits on the first row, right next to Aunt May, along with Pepper. They are all crying before the ceremony is over. Especially Aunt May, of course.

 For your honeymoon, you travel across Europe, and it's just magical. And Peter is barely getting in trouble, so all is fine. You take so many selfies during the trip… and you make a book to collect your favourite once you come home.

 Secrets : Do they keep secrets from you and how do they react when they learn that you've been hiding something from them?

 Well, you may not know at the beginning about his secret identity, but you are quick to connect the dots. After you learn about this secret of his, there is nothing that stays in the way between the two of you. And whenever he hides something to 'protect you', he regrets it. Indeed, in the end you are mad at him, and keeping you in the dark didn't protect you at all. On the contrary, you generally get more in danger. So he stops hiding things from you after a while.

 Tease : Do they like to tease you? How much humour is there in your relationship?

 You can both be teasing each other quite a lot. And Peter is funny. In a very cute way, most of the time too. Very often, he makes you laugh, but not always on purpose. He has a great sense of humour and you make each other laugh so much.

 U-turns : What can transform your relationship in a good or bad way (what makes them confess their feelings or scares them off)?

 You have to accept the fact that he is Spider-Man as much as Peter Parker. They are just one, and you can't have the funny and adorable Peter without the combative and quite reckless superhero. And that's the key to a good or bad relationship with Peter.

 Voicing : How hard is it for them to talk about their feelings? How do they tell you that they love you for the first time?

 He's quite shy, and a little clumsy when it comes to speak about how he feels for you. But he does tell you that he loves you, and he does prove it.

 You are the first to tell him that you love him after he scares you to death by disappearing altogether for two days. And when he comes back, you are so relieved that you are not even angry at him. As you hold him tightly in your arms, you can't stop the words from falling down your lips, and with a bright grin and voice made a little hoarse by emotions, he speaks them back to you.

 Widow : What if they lose you (death or breakup) ?

 If you die, he will never really get over it. He will go on with his life, but you will always be the one to him.

 If you break up, he will be devastated. Many ice-creams will be slaughtered as he tries to feel better. Ned tries to help, but only time can truly heal this kind of wound. But as long as you are happier without him, there's nothing he can do, after all.

 Yielding : What do you have to do to convince them to do what you want?

 It's pretty easy for you to convince Peter, and actually, you generally don't have to even convince him. He agrees to your idea, most of the time. The only real arguments upon which none of you are willing to back down… is what to watch on Netflix. And these arguments can be terrible…

 Zoo : Could they have a pet with you? What kind of pet?

 Oh, Peter definitely loves pets, and a cat or a dog, he doesn't really mind.

************************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @rishlo @theshortegg @madamrogers  @heyohheyitsgabi

[forestwater87]

Odd question. If you were doing a wing fic (shorthand: everyone has some kind of wings on their back; up to you if they're always out or if they can be banished and summoned at will) for Camp Camp, what kind of wings would the cast have?

Oooh I love wing fics! Hmmm, let’s see . . . 

David’s would be a little small for his age/size, and he’d probably be kind of embarrassed about that. He can still fly just fine with them -- which he’d say, defensively, if anyone pointed them out -- and they’re very fluffy, white, with little speckles of green flecked throughout.

Now I know most wing fics stick with feathered wings, but it did occur to me that some sort of insectlike wings -- all delicate-looking and iridescent like the surface of a bubble -- would also suit him very well. They’d be a bit more natural and forest-y, but would still have that element of embarrassment and shyness (he was probably called “fairy” a lot growing up, and it’d be a sore spot for him).

That being said, the idea of David having massive wings was suggested by @ciphernetics​, and I must admit that the idea of him either wrapping them around people to protect or comfort them is super cute. Also in a protective moment he could like fwoosh, out they come to shield the campers and it’d be badass. It’s not my preferred hc for him, but there are some lovely ways to play with it.

Gwen’s would be . . . serviceable. Dull, easily overlooked, probably some shade of gray or that kind of dun mousy brown that looks greyish in the right light, bigger than David’s but neither unusually large or small, not especially fluffy but not kind of molted the way some sick people’s are . . . they’re just sort of there. (She was probably nicknamed Pigeon by a lot of people, both as an affectionate term and a derogatory one. And like pigeons’ wings, there are little patches of color among her wings that are hard to see unless you’re looking for them it’s a metaphor get it? aren’t I clever ohoho)

Campbell’s are humongous. The biggest wings ever. He is a mountain of a man, with massive pure-white wings. Some people are convinced he genetically modified them somehow, and they do have this uncanny radioactive glow in the dark but don’t worry about that, it’s perfectly natural and not at all suspicious!

The fun thing about this is that they can get increasingly bedraggled as Season 3 progresses, until they’re drooping and muddy.

Quartermaster has bat wings. I don’t give a fuck if literally every other character has angel wings, QM’s are bats and that’s just the way it has to be.

I like the idea of the campers having small wings that can fit under their clothes, because they haven’t really grown in yet. I imagine maybe Nurf might be an exception, since he seems to be either older or just bigger than the other campers, but for the most part those kiddos look just like their normal selves. That being said, a few ideas of what they might look like grown up:

Max -- black, maybe a little big for his age, like a crow or raven’s wings. When he gets annoyed they puff up and slip out of his hoodie, and it’s a pain to put them back in which annoys him even more and gets them more puffy and hard to stuff back . . . it’s a constant struggle. Pity the poor kid.

Neil -- I’m torn between going with his hair color and giving him some hawklike brown-and-white wings, which I think would look nice with his coloring, and just going hog-wild and giving him wings like a bluebird because of his eyes. I think the latter would be too showy and embarrass him, but there’s something kinda cute about that too. His wings would be like his dad: impossible to ignore and much louder and more obnoxious (in his POV) than they need to be.

Nikki -- big and flecked with golden-orange. Of all the characters I think hers would have the most modifications, because as a kid/young adult she wasn’t careful with them and got them all torn up -- maybe to the point where she can’t even fly with them. But she has Neil and he’s a smart cookie, so I like to think of her wings having a vaguely-steampunk element of mechanisms and patches keeping them together.

Harrison -- white or a very light gray, like a dove’s. He paints the tips gold when he’s older as part of his illusionist costume.

Nerris -- I’m just thinking pure eastern bluebird, orange at the base and then exploding into brilliant blue. I think she’d love how flashy they are.

Ered -- Somehow I want her to have dragon wings. I have no idea why, or how, but I think it’d be extremely cool, and Ered is nothing if not cool. Especially if they’re really rare, almost unheard of, and she’s put a lot of work into transforming herself from the tomboyish freak with the demon wings and gay dads into something to be envious of. Besides, it’s easier to do sick stunts without having to worry about your feathers getting caught on stuff.

Nurf -- All right, I wanna get emo for a moment and say that his wings have been hacked either partly or entirely off by the time he’s an adult. We know he’s been abused in canon, and I think that people like that would go for the easiest target to hurt you, and that target is probably the delicate feathered things sticking out of your back. Bonus points if they’re somehow kind of girly, which coincides with his more sensitive nature and how he initially wanted to do ballet as a kid (especially since I don’t think that was well-received by his family). So, like . . . what remains are very fluffy and sweet-looking, maybe pink or pale yellow and orange or something, but they’re either little stubs he covers up all the time or they’ve got big chunks missing out of them but who’s gonna point that out to the huge guy with a pissed-off expression?

Preston -- Rainbow, like the most extravagant bird of paradise. Does he paint them himself, or are they as natural as he claims? 

Dolph -- Probably something very average and serviceable, in the brown/gray/white family, but they’re always speckled with paint because he’s not very careful with them and especially the long feathers at the bottom trail along the ground while he’s painting, or get stuck to his art if he turns around too suddenly.

Space Kid -- I’m thinking of a duck, for some reason. Partly because they’re aquatic and I just connect the ocean and space for some reason, partly because they’re very ordinary and that’s kind of how SK rolls, and partly because ducks can just flap for insane distances without getting tired (thank you Animorphs!). Space Kid is like that, I think -- very diligent, keeps his head down and gets things done, not very bright but he works so hard it makes up for a lot, and that’s why he’s going to be an astronaut someday. Mallards have those pretty green feathers, too, and I think those would look nice with Space Kid’s eyes.

Jasper -- Peacock. Obviously. He is the most garishly-dressed person in the show and his wings would match. Not that you’ll ever know, because he never gets to grow up and have real wings :( 

So those are the mains! As for some of the less-important characters, I don’t really have too many interesting ideas, but a few throwaway ones:

The Flower Scouts all have pink wings, either feathers or bug/fairy ones. I think maybe Tabii has a chunk missing from one of hers, from a fight or something, and the other girls made a patch so no one can tell and she can fly properly. Erin’s might be just slightly different colors -- one with an orangey tint, one with a blue.

A fun thing about bug wings is they could buzz when the girls are angry. So Sasha’s are basically always going, poor thing.

The Woodscouts probably have their wings bound, clipped, and constantly ready for combat flying. I’m thinking, like, the military-haircut version of wings.

Daniel’s . . . I mean, I don’t care about Daniel because he’s trash, but I do love the idea that they’re not naturally white and he dyes them. It’s my favorite Daniel hc and I need it to appear in every AU.

So that about covers it!

EXCEPT

Then I was talking with Ciphernetics about wing AUs, and I mentioned that in some wing fics (namely the awesome one by setepenre-set, though there are probably others) the wings’ size are based on how loved someone is. Which led to the below cuteness. Warning: shameless Gwenvid and Makkiel ahead, along with me insisting that Cameron Campbell isn’t the worst person in the entire world because I’m love him

Ciphernetics: Max’s wings growing during camp!Max voice: who the FUCK is loving me I specifically requested the opposite of thisDavid: You can even fit them in your hoodie anymore awwwwMax, struggling to pull it on over his wings: the hell I can't

Forestwater:(what if they come in the color of the person who loves you's hair)(so at first it's just this line of red that he knows is fucking David, goddamnit and then all of a sudden start sprouting these mint green and brown ones and my ship takes off)

Ciphernetics: Max, disgusted, throwing an auburn feather at David: get LOSTMax, looking over his shoulder in the mirror at the brown ones gathering at the tips and the mint ones scattered chaotically throughout: huh

Forestwater:Oh no what about when Nikki and Neil's start getting flecked with black, small and easily tugged out like they're ashamed of being there

Ciphernetics: The small really curly little feathery down that like to hide under other feathers(Gwen's had auburn in her wings since almost the first summer but lately it's started to overpower the rest of the colours. Not completely, it's just... Noticeable how much of it is the same colour now.)(She knew David loved people quickly and easily, it's just suddenly a lot more)(or she just wasn't paying attention)

Forestwater:What on earth would David's reaction be to suddenly finding some of Gwen's?I like the idea of her feathers being two-toned

Ciphernetics: I'd love if he's had a very small, slowly growing patch since they met (just a handful more each summer) but some event happens and suddenly there's a lotOh absolutely two tonedHey how about some angst;David's been waiting his whole life for Campbell's hair colourToday at 9:32 AMHe'd never say it but Campbell makes so many throwaway jokes about David being the son he never wanted but it rings a little hollow when there's not when one little brown/grey feather

Forestwater:until the end of season 3 when there's like . . . twoLISTEN I NEED MY TRASH GRANDPA

So that’s just a little bit of extra silliness for added angst/romance/fluff.

Hope this answer isn’t too long, but I was having fun.

[trashwrites]

Lupercalia, Ch. 5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

or

Read it on AO3!

–

Werewolf/Vampire AU

NSFW

Warnings for: Hardcore Sex, Blood, Violence, Blood Kink, More Blood, Lots of Blood, Knotting, Consensual Biting, Etc. In Some Chapters

-

This was possibly the most awkward situation Joseph had ever had to suffer through, either in his life or afterlife. Silence, broken only by the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen, pressed like a thick, physical force on Joseph’s ears. He perched stiffly at the edge of Sebastian’s overstuffed couch, chewing his lip and contemplating bolting.

Sebastian came into the room and passed Joseph a hot mug of tea, watching him take it with an openly curious expression. Joseph stared back, sipping the tea with as flat a look as he could manage.

“Oh!” Sebastian said, staring down at his own steaming cup. “I was wondering if you could drink that. Or���anything that isn’t blood, I guess.”

“If you didn’t know I could drink this, why’d you give it to me?”

Sebastian grinned nervously. “I’m sorry, I- it didn’t even occur to me until I handed it to you just now. Then I was too anxious to ask and I figured I’d just see how it shook out.”

Joseph took another drink, trying not to smile.

“So you can just like, eat stuff?”

Joseph smiled. “It’s the classic thing to do with food.”

“I thought it might hurt, or burn. Make you sick.”

“It really just doesn’t do much for me.”

“Oh.”

Sebastian flicked the television on, illuminating the dim room with the gentle blue glow of some soothing undersea documentary, complete with a french-accented narrator. It reminded Joseph of Montreal, which wasn’t a comforting thought.

He tried not to think about the sound of screaming and chewed nervously at his thumbnail.

“You okay?” Sebastian said, dropping onto the couch beside Joseph.

Joseph clutched an arm to his side, shoulders painful with how rigidly he held them together in his attempt to take up as little space as possible. He wondered if Sebastian’s canine-sharp hearing could pick up the sound of him swallowing.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“I said, I’m fine,” Joseph growled.

“You look like you’re about to puke.” Sebastian tilted his head. “Can vampires puke?”

“Sometimes, if I- never mind, it’s not important.” Joseph frowned and dug his nails into his arm.

Sebastian propped his chin up on his hand and signed into the documentary’s gentle music.

Joseph scanned the room for some point of interest, anything to focus on other than his current situation. He landed on a console table shoved against a wall near the corner; it was pretty, dark wood with ornate scrollwork that was out of place in the otherwise drab apartment. An unlit candle slumped in a petrified half-melt in front of a bi-fold picture frame.

He obviously didn’t recognize the two people in the pictures, but he understood well enough what the setup meant. Joseph’s stomach sank as he wondered who they were, and who they’d been to Sebastian.

He caught Sebastian cutting his gaze away from where Joseph was staring.

“I don’t think I’ve been in a house with another person for this long in…since…ah, shit. I forget. Feels like a lifetime ago,” Joseph said quietly.

Sebastian nodded. “How old are you, anyhow?”

Joseph winced. “I stopped keeping track at some point. Figure’d it would just get depressing eventually.”

“I hear that.”

Sebastian swept an arm out behind Joseph and looked at him, asking silent permission.

Joseph’s mouth quirked into a pained smile and he nodded curtly, staring at the television while the prickling sensation crept across his cheeks. Sebastian draped an arm around Joseph, pulling him incrementally closer to his side.

“I think I was in my thirties when it happened, though,” Joseph said.

The body heat was welcome at least; Joseph himself edged towards “chill” no matter how much blood he borrowed, and Sebastian’s living form was like a furnace in comparison.

Everything else though- it was all too much. Joseph had forgotten both the finer and not-so-fine points of interpersonal relationships; he’d forgotten more or less anything except wringing mouthfuls of blood out of some hapless one-night stand, blending in for just long enough, and figuring out when to run.

He’d forgotten friendship, companionship, and just what he was supposed to do with his hands when a large, handsome man invited him into his home and offered him tea.

Joseph’s teeth clenched and a tremor started in the tight could of his shoulders down to his hands. Panic was, at least, familiar to him and the way his eyes ached with tears he couldn’t let himself shed was the closest thing to relief he could expect.

Sebastian rubbed his palm between Joseph’s shoulder blades. “Fuck man, you really don’t know how to calm down, do you?”

Joseph rasped out a humorless chuckle. “Haven’t had much practice.”

“You can come off as a little heavy, you know that?”

Joseph squeezed his eyes shut and hesitantly rested his head against Sebastian’s broad shoulder as a gesture of goodwill. Pressed to the warmth of Sebastian’s body, he tried to convince himself of things he didn’t really believe.

You don’t have to hunt here. There doesn’t have to be any screaming. Every affirmation eased his breaths out a little more smoothly. You don’t have to pretend to be normal right now.

Sebastian wrapped both arms around Joseph and pulled him into his lap, as though Joseph’s reluctant contact had triggered some sort of primal response. He felt Sebastian nuzzle against his temple, breath warm against his ear.

Joseph tried to hold in the laughter that was bubbling out of him. Just an oversized dog.

“What?” Sebastian said, tone guarded.

Joseph shook his head and tried to bite back his grin. There was a tight sensation twisting his stomach, but for once he couldn’t call it unpleasant. It wasn’t unlike the giddy, warm feeling that often followed fresh blood.

Sebastian licked across Joseph’s cheek, tongue leaving a warm, wet trail.

They both froze in place until Joseph broke the silence by doubling over in a paroxysm of laughter, clutching helplessly at Sebastian’s shirt.

“What- what was that?” Joseph wheezed.

Sebastian looked away sheepishly. “I-I’m sorry, look-it- sometimes, you get caught up and you- you forget your human manners-“

Joseph grinned and rested against Sebastian’s chest, head tucked into the crook of his neck. He reached up to run his palm along Sebastian’s stubbled cheek and scratched lightly at the hair behind his ear.

“Dog jokes,” Sebastian huffed, “that’s real cute.”

Nevertheless Sebastian hugged Joseph tight to him, resting his chin against Joseph’s head with a yawn. The television’s french narrator rambled quietly in the background about tentacles and arms, the dappled blue of the ocean lighting both their drowsing features.

Sebastian fell asleep first, arms heavy around Joseph’s waist and drooling peacefully against his shoulder.

Joseph was at a loss for what he was supposed to do. Would it be more appropriate to wake Sebastian, drag him straight to bed, or should he just stay there, let Sebastian sleep that way until he woke on his own.

The thought of wandering Sebastian’s apartment, waking him, upsetting any of his things felt wrong. He was a trespasser here. He didn’t have the right act like he lived there, too.

Numbness tingled up Joseph’s arm and just like that, the discomfort overrode his fear of being unwelcome. The worst that could happen was Sebastian was going to throw him out, and that was bound to happen eventually. Joseph summoned all the supernatural strength his borrowed blood supply provided him and hauled Sebastian up.

His bulk was difficult to contain against Joseph’s smaller frame, and Joseph stumbled through the house in his clumsy attempt to keep Sebastian- still snoring peacefully through the upset- from knocking into walls, or knocking over furniture.

Sebastian grunted when Joseph dropped him into his bed in a tangled nest of blanket. He opened one eye and smiled sleepily, pulling at Joseph’s arm in a silent encouragement to join him.

Joseph stiffened and backed away, swinging to sit on the edge of the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest. His chest felt too tight again.

He felt Sebastian sit up behind him, snorting noisily. “S’wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I-“

Sebastian leaned against Joseph’s back in his effortlessly affectionate fashion. “It’s a lot to take in all at once, I guess?”

Joseph ran his hands through his hair and tried to find the resolve he could usually summon to bottle down that cold swell of fear in his throat. He should be dealing with this silently.

“I mean, we just met, what, two days ago?” Joseph said, almost breathless.

“Been that long already?”

“Hah.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “A little bit of trust goes a long way, I guess.”

Joseph nodded absently, and the smile he turned on Sebastian was reserved. “Is that what we’ve been doing here? A series of mutual trust falls?”

“C’mon,” Sebastian said through a yawn, “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but whatever’s bugging you isn’t going to get worse just ‘cause you got some sleep.”

A leaden lump formed in Joseph’s throat, seizing his chest with feat as he allowed himself to be pulled downward, under the bedcovers and the weight of Sebastian’s arms. He let his fingers trail along Sebastian’s back, sucking in deep breaths.

Survival had meant a lot of different things to Joseph, and each one of those things had been some level of debasing. This? It was a whole new level of shame to experience. He’d been an animal, a freak, a predator- now he’d be a common whore to boot.

Sebastian had been kind to him so far- much kinder than Joseph would have expected from Sebastian’s brutal flavor of monstrousness, or even just from a cop. He was attractive too- Joseph had managed to get himself into this mess with just a few glimpses of his body and the heated memories of their first meeting, after all.

None of that meant Joseph was willing to trade his body for the luxury of staying there.

As the night went on and Sebastian continued with his various affections, he’d become convinced that his body was the only reasonable way he had to pay for all this- safety, warmth, blood. He knew he ought to be grateful; it seemed a small price to pay, and he’d been sharing himself willingly up until now.

Bitter gorge touched the back of Joseph’s tongue. Fair price or no, a shudder traveled down his spine, anticipating with self-disgust the moment that Sebastian’s hands would follow the path of his shivering and demand Joseph’s payment.

I can do this, Joseph told himself, I’ve just got to stay still, be a warm body. Well…an available body. Isn’t that just how you treat everybody else?

“Calm down, calm,” Sebastian mumbled against Joseph’s forehead.

Sebastian’s fingers twitched against the back of Joseph’s neck and ruffled haphazardly through his hair. When the steady rumble of Sebastian’s snoring vibrated against him, the wave of relief Joseph felt traveled through his whole body, bringing a wet pricking to his eyes.

Lights flickered through the window alongside the faraway, tinny noises of the city at night. Joseph was alert to all of them out of habit, dizzy and exhausted with trying to analyze every noise and creak through the apartment as the early morning began to stretch on without him.

Eventually he pressed his head to Sebastian’s chest, trying to savor what might be his last chance at uninterrupted, safe sleep. He tried to count Sebastian’s heartbeats, focused on their steady rhythm until it lulled him into a hard-won cal and he could finally lapse into sleep, warmth radiating through the man’s skin.

Somewhere, Joseph imagined that he was already mourning this stolen moment of peace.

[nevermindthewind]

a pretty good team

6 weeks 3 days

Laurel woke with a start.  She’d been having another weird dream, but of course it was forgotten the moment she woke up.  Next to her Wes snored softly, causing Laurel to smile to herself. They’d been dating officially for almost two months but sometimes she still had trouble believing that this was all real.  Not that she was complaining.  She rolled over to check her phone, wondering if there was time to fall back asleep before having to be up for class at 8:00, but before Laurel could even register the early hour her stomach lurched dangerously.  “Oh god,” she whispered, holding her hand to her mouth.  

She tried to be as quiet as possible as she ran to her bathroom, but it wasn’t enough to keep Wes from waking up. “What’s going on?” Wes said groggily, rubbing his eyes. He looked over to her side of the bed and, upon seeing it unoccupied, looked around the room in a sleepy, confused haze until he saw the light coming from under the bathroom door.  

“Wes go back to sleep, I’m fine,” Laurel called, though the weakness in her voice said otherwise.  Unconvinced, Wes got out of bed, padded across the room, and knocked on the door.

“Laurel?” he said gently.  “Can I come in?” Laurel didn’t respond.  Taking this as the closest thing he’d get to a yes, Wes opened the door just in time to see Laurel’s dinner make a reappearance.  “Oh babe,” Wes said softly, rushing to Laurel’s side.  Laurel tried to wave him away, tried to tell him to save himself, but it was a lost cause. “Nice try, Castillo, but I’m staying put,” Wes said, rubbing her back.  Laurel groaned but didn’t argue.  

--

Three hours and many choice curse words later, Laurel sat back against the bathroom wall, relishing the cool tile against her back.  The worst, it seemed, was behind her.  However the more her body seemed to relax, the more mortified Laurel felt that her boyfriend just witnessed, well, that.

“You need water,” Wes said matter-of-factly, standing up and moving towards the sink.  

Laurel looked up. “You mean you’re not gonna dump my ass?” she asked, only partially kidding. Wes just laughed as he filled a glass.  

“Nah, but I will accept payment in the form of backrubs. Or your wills and trust outline,” Wes said as he handed her the cup, smiling.  Laurel took the water as Wes sat down beside her.  She leaned into him, exhausted.  They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Laurel taking a few sips of water and trying to not think about how gross she felt.

“Better?” Wes asked after a while.

“Yeah,” Laurel said.  She looked up at Wes who was already looking at her, his eyebrows furrowed with concerned. “Although I really wish you hadn’t seen that,” she said. “I feel disgusting.”

Wes reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind Laurel’s ear, his hand lingering on her face. “Well you’ve definitely looked better,” he smirked. Laurel shoved him, albeit playfully. “Seriously, don’t even worry about it,” Wes continued. “I’m glad I was here. And now we know to never order sesame chicken from Tung Sing ever again”. At the mention of food Laurel turned green. Wes winced. “Sorry, sorry! Oh shit. Laurel, I’m so sorry,” he blundered, as Laurel just shook her head, taking several deep breaths. After a minute the nausea passed and she opened her eyes to see Wes looking like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

“I’m good,” she said, laughing when she saw how concerned Wes was. “But let’s go back to bed before we jinx it, huh? We have to get up in less than three hours.” Laurel began to get up, but stopped when Wes didn’t follow. “What?”

“Babe, I love you, but you can’t go to class,” Wes said. Laurel opened her mouth, apparently about to argue. Wes tried again. “Ok, obviously I can’t tell you what to do. But I really think you should stay home and rest. I’ll go to wills and trusts and Michaela can cover you in Pearson’s class so you don’t get behind.  Give yourself a day to get better,” he added, softly kissing Laurel’s forehead.  Normally Laurel would’ve put up more of a fight, but she was too exhausted, so she just nodded.  

One day off wouldn’t hurt, she thought to herself as Wes helped her off the bathroom floor and led her back into the bedroom.  She crawled back into bed and snuggled up to Wes’ side, being sick making her more affectionate than usual. The second her head hit the pillow, Laurel was asleep.

--

When Laurel woke up, Wes was gone.  She sat up, having briefly forgotten that she wasn’t going to class.  As soon as she moved she remembered why, as a wave of nausea hit her.  Laurel slumped back into her pillow, hoping it would pass.  Eventually it subsided, and she picked up her phone to check her notifications.  Among the texts from Wes, Michaela, and Annelise was a notification from her period tracker congratulating her on finishing this month’s period. The period that, Laurel now realized, never came.  

Shit. Shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshit.

Everything suddenly made sense.  Why she’d been so tired.  Why none of her bras seemed to fit right.  And why she’d bought grapefruit on her last trip to the grocery store, even though she hated grapefruit.  

There was no way she could just lay here.  She wouldn’t be able to rest at all until she knew for sure. Laurel threw off her blankets and got out of bed, trying to ignore the pangs of nausea as she changed out of her pyjamas and into leggings and a sweater.

--

One trip to Walgreens and what felt like one hundred judgemental stares later, Laurel was back in her bathroom.  A completely different type of nausea hit her as she opened the little pink box, her hands shaking.  She read the instructions, and, after some slightly awkward maneuvers, she managed to pee on the stick without getting any on herself. She set the test on the counter, set a timer, and spent the next three minutes sitting on the toilet trying to wrap her mind around the events of the past 12 hours.

She’d had a scare once before, when she was 19 and her idiot ex decided not to use a condom.  Since then she’d been ultra careful, and Wes had respected that.  Even after that morning in the bathtub, when the condom ripped he offered to go pick up Plan B before Laurel even had a chance to freak out.  But Laurel’s stubbornness took over, and she kept saying she was fine, she’d just ended her period, it wasn’t a big deal.

Now she was 24 and kicking herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t like kids.  She loved her brother’s kids, and her cousins.  However the idea of growing an actual human, of waddling around with a giant belly, inflated boobs and feet, only have to push said human out of her body? Yeah that wasn’t something she’d ever wanted.  No, her entire adult life the only thing Laurel truly wanted was to get out of Florida, to get away from her crazy family, and make a name for herself that she could be proud of.  She was going to become an attorney.  She was going to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.  She was going to make a difference.  A baby was nowhere near a part of that plan.  But, to be fair, neither was Wes.  She had never dreamed someone like him would come along and shake everything up.  If she was going to have a baby with anyone, it’d be him.  He was the only person in her life who was truly good, who had ever genuinely cared for and about her.  But could they do it? Could they raise a baby AND go to law school AND work for Annalise?

But just as Laurel began to even attempt to weigh her options, the timer buzzed, making her jump.  She turned it off and stared at the test on the counter, suddenly unable to move, unable to breathe.  After what felt like years she finally got up the courage to reach out her hand and look at the test.

Two lines.

Even though Laurel had seen this coming since the moment she got that silly little notification, her heart still sank.  She was pregnant.

With a baby.  

Wes’ baby.

--

She was still there, sitting on the toilet and staring at the test, when Wes got home about a half hour later.

“Laurel?” he called as he opened her bedroom door.

“In here,” she answered. Wes set down his messenger bag and the bag of groceries he’d picked up, giving Laurel roughly 30 seconds to try and figure out the best way to drop this bombshell.  She stood up and made to meet Wes in the bedroom, figuring the bathroom had probably been the sight of enough events for one day.  Laurel slipped the pregnancy test up her sleeve and opened the door, only to come face to face with Wes on the other side of the door. They both jumped.

“How you feeling?” Wes asked, kissing her on the forehead.

“Better,” Laurel responded, her eyes closed as Wes’ cool lips touched her forehead.  She smiled softly at the greeting, then looked up.  Upon seeing the worry in Laurel’s eyes, Wes’ face went from relaxed to concerned.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I, uh, I have to tell you something,” Laurel said slowly, taking Wes’ hand and leading him back towards the bed.  She sat down cross-legged and patted the spot across from her, which Wes promptly occupied.  Taking a deep breath, Laurel at Wes and said, “I don’t think I have food poisoning.  Actually, I know I don’t.”

“What do you mean?” Wes said, his eyebrows furrowing. Laurel looked down and started playing with Wes’ hand, unable to figure out how to say the thing that would change their relationship and their lives forever. “Babe are you sure you’re ok?” Laurel nodded, unable to look Wes in the eye. Finally she spoke.

“Remember that morning in the bathtub?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, but what does that-” Wes stopped, causing Laurel’s eyes to look up. She raised her eyebrows. Suddenly they both spoke at the same time.

“Laurel what are you saying?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Laurel looked at Wes, trying to read the expression on his face, but for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. “Earth to Wes?” she asked after a minute, squeezing his hand.

“Are you sure?” Wes asked. Laurel pulled out the pregnancy test from her other sleeve and showed it to him.

“Two lines,” she said as confirmation.  “I went and picked it up this morning after I realized I’d missed my period.” Wes took the stick from her and stared at it.

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated, more to himself than to Laurel.  After a couple seconds he looked up again.  “How are you?” he asked.

“Fine,” she answered automatically.  

“Laurel,” Wes said, furrowing his eyebrows.  He didn’t buy her act for one second.  

Laurel sighed, starting to unload the stress she’d built up since peeing on that stupid stick.  “Ok, I’m freaking out. I mean a baby?! I can barely take care of myself let alone a baby!”

“Well you wouldn’t have to take care of it by yourself, you know,” Wes interjected quietly.  He set the test on the nightstand and took one of Laurel’s hands into his own.  “I’ll be here too,” he paused, his gaze moving from Laurel’s hands so he could look her straight in the eye. “Whatever you decide, I’m here.” 

Tears sprang to Laurel’s eyes, taking her by surprise.  She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Wes’ chest.  For a while they just sat there, Wes rubbing Laurel’s back, both lost in their own thoughts.  Finally Laurel spoke again.  “What should we do?” she asked, pulling herself upright again. Wes was quiet for a minute, trying to find the words for what he wanted to say.

“If you, you know, if you want to get an abortion, I’ll support you one hundred percent,” he started. “But, for what it’s worth, I think we could do it. I mean it would be hard, yeah, but…” Wes ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know. I just see the way you care for people, especially the people who are important to you, and I think you’d be amazing, and well, you and me, we make a pretty good team already.  But I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.  So, really what I’m trying to say is, no matter what, I will be here for you. And the baby, if that’s what we decide,” Wes had been looking down at their hands, still intertwined, but after he finished his eyes made their way up to see Laurel smiling softly, once again tearing up.

“I think we could do it, too,” she said. And as scary as it was, she meant it.

[shooter-nobunagun]

Love Me Tonight [III]

//An attempt to reconcile, explain, and bridge the events between chapters 38 and 39 of the manga. Adam x Sio.

Her breathing seemed to be easing into a steady state, Adam nearly falling asleep before catching himself in time. Everything that had been plaguing him, since even before Asao-san went missing and the turmoil that accompanied it...they all seemed so trivial now, even though they’d just had one of the most difficult, complicated conversations he’d ever experienced so far not more than 15 minutes ago. If it weren’t for the underlying severity of the situation, he would’ve been giddy; after all, didn’t they just literally confess their feelings for each other?

To hear her say those words for certain, that she loved him in the same sense he did...Adam wondered if it was wrong to feel such euphoria so soon, but he couldn’t help it. At last he knew the truth, that his feelings and actions all this time hadn’t been in vain. Still, there was a lingering sense of guilt for being jealous of Asao, and anger at his own insecurities. Why did it have to take Sio spelling it out for him despite all the evidence, before he could truly believe it? Though she admitted her feelings for the dark-haired girl were stronger than a normal friendship, he trusted her now to know it was not meant to interfere or compete with her feelings for him.

“Heh...I’m a bloody moron, you know.” Her head peaked up slightly as his voice punctuated the silence. “Th’ whole time, the one thing I’ve wanted the most was right in front of my damn face...but I was too blind in my own insecurities to see it.” He scoffed a bit, unable to keep a wry smirk from his face. “Somehow, it always has to take you beating it over my head before I come to my senses...” Sio’s brows furrowed with guilt but he silenced her with a shake of his head. “No; I appreciate your sentiments Sio, but I know it’s true; in the end, I still have a hard time letting down my defenses, even around you...”

“I—Adam...” She didn’t know what to say, instead hugging him even tighter than she already was. “Don’t blame yourself anymore; after all, I know that feeling, too...it’s hard to let your guard down when you’re...different. You and Asao-san...you’re the only two people I’ve been able to completely trust, you know.”

Adam didn’t respond, only sighing deeply and resting his chin on her head. “I know you’re sick of hearing it, but I’m sorry...for making you feel like you had to choose between the two of us; Asao or me, your friend or...your lover,” a quick blush of heat as the unfamiliar term slipped from his mouth, even if it was true. “I can’t take back my actions, but I can promise you, I’ll...try to be better about communicating with you.”

A small nod, the girl in his arms shifting a bit too. “N, No, it’s...I should be apologizing too, for my selfishness...this whole time, I was taking your feelings for granted, instead of considering what you need from me...in fact, I was only thinking about myself...” There was a sniffle, Sio’s lips wobbling a bit before she sucked the tears back. “B-But you’re right...we, need to be honest with each other...instead of always selfishly assuming... So please, Adam, from now on, promise me...if, if there’s ever anything you need to tell me, don’t be afraid... I swear, I’ll listen.”

That fragile but determined tone, matched with the same, unwavering gaze. For the first time Adam was a little startled at how much she seemed to have matured, but it was to be expected after all this time; no longer a newbie, but a veteran now. Not hardened and jaded, but coming into her own after being tossed into situations most people would never encounter in their entire lifetime. He gave a silent nod, before leaning down and touching their foreheads together.

“I promise, Sio. And same goes for you; if you’re ever suffering, or just want to talk about anything...I’ll be here for you. And the others as well; you’re never alone here, Sio Ogura. Even if you feel like there’s nothing else...trust me, we’ll always have your back.”

Perhaps it was a coincidence, but Adam’s words were nearly identical to the same ones Asao told her, way back before she’d joined DOGOO and was uncertain about her future as an e-gene holder. ‘Even if you feel like there’s nothing left, I’ll be here,’ her friend promised warmly, and Sio felt the pricks of guilt crawling up, that she could have been so caught up in her own darkness as to forget those promised words—the biggest irony perhaps being it came from the very person she lost herself over.

“I, I will, Adam...thank you.” A sob, before she turned against his chest and cried, Adam gently rubbing her shoulders and wiping away her tears before the sadness subsided. “S, Sorry...it’s just, I can’t believe it took me so long t-to, remember that...Asao-san, she said the same thing too, b-back when I was considering if I wanted to join DOGOO or not...”

“Well, she’s right you know. She really is a good person...an’ I’m glad she’s someone else you can trust. Perhaps this isn’t right of me to say, but...I’m glad you two were able to meet and become friends. And...I’m sorry it had to end this way...” 

Even if Asao-san didn’t have much time left...in hindsight, it was better than literally killing herself over the unknown. The tortuous nights she spent wondering, and wondering...all the could’ves, should’ves, would’ves, berating herself for not acting sooner or thinking of better solutions...

“...Say, Adam,” Sio steadied herself in his arms, Adam giving her a questioning look but didn’t say anything, “I...now that we’ve both...agreed to be more open, I want to know...if, if there’s anything you need from me, in this...relationship. A-And I mean it, anything...I want you to trust me with your feelings,” round maroons peered resolutely at him, her face all at once both vulnerable and mature.

“...Eh?” The sudden statement caught him off-guard. If she was serious...no, she was; just as he’d been when he promised Sio that she could always speak her mind. “You’re asking this now...?”

“Well, yes...I mean, especially after you said all that...I realized, I’ve never once thought about what you want. I just made assumptions...”

“I see...” Adam felt a bit guilty, despite everything. It felt like he was blaming her for all his self-loathing, even though that was hardly the case. But like they say, it takes two to tango; and he knew going forward that they needed to have these conversations, even if they were uncomfortable and awkward. “Well, I think we already covered most of it...”

“Right, I’ll try to be more, er—affectionate with you—”

“I, uh—It’s fine—”

“—O-Oh, but was there...is there anything else,” she glanced at him shyly, her eyes now wide with curiosity, “that I can do for you? Or that you want to do?”

Adam fell silent; his mind was still scattered from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations, what he wanted right now (aside from rest) was probably the last thing on his mind. 

Except, maybe...?

He glanced down at their hands, which were still intertwined. The smooth skin of her fingers, and how small they looked again his own when he stroked them...now, more than ever he knew his feelings were true. The affection he held for her, sometimes overwhelming...he could express them with words, sure, but now it didn’t seem to be enough. He wanted something else, something more...tangible, to make her understand just how he felt about her. 

The fantasy of the two of them spending their first night together popped into his mind, and Adam blushed with both embarrassment and irritation. It was completely normal of course; as their relationship progressed such thoughts became more frequent, but his moral side berated him for wanting such things at a time like this.

“Don’t worry about it Sio, we can—let’s talk about that later. I think we could both use some rest...” To his surprise however, the sniper merely shook her head, eyes steadfast as ever.

“You can’t fool me anymore, Adam Muirhead. Please, I want you to be honest with me...instead of always pushing it away for ‘later’.”

Adam swallowed nervously. She really was serious, huh. Then again, that was what made her so attractive to him: her sincerity, earnestness, and unwavering resolve. Smiling a bit to himself, he could only give a small sigh. 

‘Ah hell. Might as well just say it aloud...’

“...I know this sounds every bit the most selfish, indulgent, baseless male need—and this is probably the worst time to even be talking about such things, but...I, want to take our relationship to the next level, now. I’m...ready,” he gulped, realizing for the first time how nervous he really was.

“...Ah?” Her head tilted to the side in that slightly quizzical manner of hers, when she was trying very hard to look like she understood but probably had no idea what he was talking about.

“Er, I-I mean, well…” He stuttered, face starting to turn pink and a strange numbness overtaking his limbs. Surely Sio could understand the concept of being…well, intimate, right? It didn’t take a genius to figure out the girl never had a boyfriend before him, let alone any other experiences aside from the unpleasant tongue-tangling greetings of Newton, but Adam didn’t need to spell it out for her…or so he hoped. Sio may have been socially-inept, but she wasn’t stupid.

“I, I mean…like, going to…third, base?” Another quizzical stare and tilt of the head, with Adam feeling stupider by the minute. “Ah hell—I mean, doing it…together. Y’know…? That?”

“‘That’…ano, you mean…uh, um…” Sio was nodding but still sounded unsure, though her cheeks were also starting to turn a pale pink. “Sore...s, sono…”

“—I mean having sex. Like, with you. Together…” He added awkwardly, his heart pounding so hard he couldn’t even hear his own voice.

“A-Ah...umm...mmm...” Sio made a variety of noises, none of which he could discern. At least she wasn’t freaking out or bashing him over the head with a pillow; instead cheeks turning a very rosy blush as she pulled the edge of her nightgown downwards, perhaps feeling shy now knowing that he thought of her in more than just an innocent, romantic manner. Part of him wanted to take back his words, but he knew it was too late; besides, what was the point of open communication if he denied the fact that yes, he wanted to be intimate and closer physically, aside from just cuddling and kissing?

“S...Sio? Are you...all right?”

“H-Huh? A-Ah, n, no...I mean, I’m...daijoubu...” She took a deep breath, but it wasn’t helping her nerves. On one hand she was kind of freaking out, and on the other she was...also freaking out. But in a good way? If you could describe the shock that Adam actually found her sexually attractive to be good. ‘I-I mean, I know we’ve...kissed before, but still...he actually thinks about me like, like...that?!’ Unconsciously her gaze shifted a bit to her incredibly modest bust, before another burst of heat bloomed across her cheeks. 

“U-Um...w, wow...I, I didn’t...know you actually thought I was...well, attractive...like, that,” a nervous giggle escaped before she could stop herself, and Sio couldn’t help but avert her gaze while simultaneously berating herself for giving such an awkward answer. “Uh, um, I, I...didn’t think you would think of me like that, to be honest...I-I mean yeah I know we’ve, kissed and held hands and stuff but like, that’s just typical dating stuff right, like I mean this, going that far and doing that...stuff...” Her brain was whirling a million miles a minute, Sio unable to even keep track of what she was saying; only the stream-of-consciousness making itself heard as she glanced at every possible object in the room except for his face. 

“I-I mean...this, is real...right? You, you’re...serious about this...”

A single nod. “Yeh. I’m completely serious.” 

“Uh...” Her face flushed, and suddenly she felt nervous and anxious all over again, similar to when they first kissed. “Y-You...you’re, sure...that, you’re...okay with, d-doing s-something like that with, me...”

“Sio, I’ve never been more serious in my life.” Gently, he took her hand into his. “Of course, only if you’re all right—”

Sio shook her head. “N-No, it’s not that...well okay, I am a little nervous, but I mean...I guess I’m just really surprised you’d, actually want to...with someone like me,” she replied in a small voice. “I’m not really what you’d consider pretty, or even cute...and I’m totally inexperienced...”

There was a muffled laugh, Sio glancing up in surprise. “Oh, Sio...you really do worry too much, you know? I find you pretty, and cute, and...many other things as well. There was a small smile gracing his face, one she hadn’t seen for a long time. “I, love you...Sio. And now, I’d like to...show you, physically. I mean, ah,” he shook his head, but the smile was still there. “...I don’t know what it’s like for you, but for me...I, want to make love to you.” 

Sio couldn’t help but blush to her very roots; it took all her willpower to not turn away, those words replaying itself in her mind. Making love...Sio thought such flowery language only existed in paperback romance novels, but somehow when Adam said it, it made her feel cozy as well.

“U-Uh...um, I, I don’t know if it’s, the same feeling as you, but I think...I feel the same. Or, er, similar! Ah, uh, I-I mean...” She wished the same courage she’d felt during their do-or-die battle could apply to other areas of her personal life, but apparently discussing sex was not one of them. “I mean...I’ve, thought about it too...d, d-doing it, with you...s-so, I guess...we both feel the same...” To her surprise, she no longer felt as anxious—if anything, being open about her feelings made her feel more confident. “I...I love you too, Adam; I really, really do. A-And now, I feel I’m...I’m ready to experience new things, together with you...”

Maybe they were jumping the gun a bit after such an intense, emotional conversation, but it felt natural at the same time. They’d both admitted their honest feelings to each other, including the fact that yes, physical intimacy had crossed their minds, and they wanted it. She didn’t jump when a warm hand gently cupped her face, though her heart was pounding in nervous excitement.

“...May I kiss you?”

Those piercing emeralds, unwavering but kind as he waited for her answer. For once Sio did not shy away, not anymore; there was no need to be shy and nervous now. Her body seemed to move automatically, head nodding a slight yes, and then his lips closed around hers, soft and warm and she sighed into the feeling, of comfort and warmth and a need to be with him. It wasn’t their first kiss, but somehow it felt different; Sio couldn’t describe it, but there was a new feeling, one that made her body heat up and want to feel him more. Perhaps it was their newfound confidence and trust in each other that allowed those old feelings of insecurity fade into the background, and let her explore these new, passionate sensations, such as running her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.

Are we really going to do it? Personally, Sio would’ve been satisfied if they stopped right there, but she wasn’t pulling away, and neither was Adam. If anything, their bodies seemed to be more entwined: she was now sitting in his lap, his arms wound securely around her waist while she combed his hair behind his neck. Most of their previous kisses had just been quick pecks, or a single kiss, not actually making-out like this (Sio blushed a bit at the realization) but now she understood why people did it. It was warm and pleasurable, being able to feel Adam so closely, physically... 

Gradually, she became aware of a heavy warmth against her bare thigh, gently stroking the soft skin underneath her old nightgown. Sio sighed from the strange but welcome sensation. ‘Too bad my nightgown’s so plain and childish...wait...’

‘We’re going to do it? Just like that? After everything that happened, just like this...’ No romantic candlelight or trail of rose petals, no poetic declarations of everlasting love beforehand; just two complicated people with messy feelings that lead to messy decisions, including what was probably going to happen regardless.

“What is it—did you change your mind?” Adam cast a worried glance at her sudden pulling away. “Sorry...this is too sudden, isn’t it?”

‘Of course it is you idiot, d’you really expect her to be in the mood after literally spilling her heart out to you?’ A sarcastic voice barged into his head, Adam feeling ashamed he’d let his physical wants get the better of him, especially since this was probably not the best nor most romantic situation for their ‘first time’.

“Chigau...actually, it’s not that at all...” Sio bit her lips, trying to get her emotions under control but at this point she no longer had any energy to keep them in check. “Oh Adam...it’s just...I wish it were better than this!”

“H-Huh?!” The look of bewilderment upon his face would have been comical, if not for the mood. “Wh-what do you...mean?” He hoped Sio wasn’t referring to his lack of experience—nevermind her own; while they never outright discussed it, Adam was pretty sure she’d picked up on the fact that he was a virgin by now.

“It-it’s just...I guess, when I was imaging our...f, first time together,” she squirmed nervously, “I wanted it to be all nice and, and...fancy and romantic; with roses, in a luxury hotel somewhere, maybe even getting all dressed up and stuff... Not like, after a life-or-death battle, me wearing my ratty, old nightgown... and my hair’s not even the right color anymore,” she sighed, fingering the split ends. “I guess, I just want our first time to be...special.” There was strange noise, until she realized Adam was laughing.

“Oh...oh Sio...Sio Ogura,” he repeated, a smile growing on his face. “Sometimes, you just...say the darnedest things, love.” He pulled her into a warm hug, which she returned eagerly. “Of course that would be nice—I mean, I thought of similar things myself: a nice dinner, maybe going to the cinema or something cliché like that; but after all this time, I’ve realized, I don’t care what it is we do or what we have—as long as I’m with you,” he whispered, touching their foreheads together. “It doesn’t matter to me what you’re wearing, or how your hair looks—hell, in my mind there’s no way I’d be doing this with a 5 o’clock shadow, but,” he shrugged helplessly, “it is what it is. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few months...it’s we can’t predict everything in life, nor can we control it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make our own choices, still.” Gently, he took her hands into his. 

“And my choice is to be with you, right now, regardless of anything else.”

[wickedangelblog]

Dark memories and other things.

12/31

*Note: This blog has a lot of personal things in it about myself and my life. You’re welcome to read it (good luck, it’s a long one) - but i’m not posting it for the reason of anyone reading it... I’m posting it for me. As a part of my own therapy, purging myself of bad memories, starting fresh for 2018. I’m planning to make changes and improvements to my life, and this is where i’m starting. If you do take the time to read this, you’ll know me a lot better than you think you do now, and will understand me better. Anyway...... 

Happy New Year! I hope 2018 is a good year for everyone. <3 

I’m working on some things. I’ve already started on some of them. Trying to lose weight (especially being only 4 months from the wedding).. Trying to get into good routines. Right now, trying to get into a good sleep/wake routine.. Also need to work on a fitness routine, and everything else.

I had a good conversation with my brother last night. We talked about mood disorders, etc.. We agree that my Dad had a lot of bipolar symptoms, but as usual when I mentioned Mom, his denial dial switched on. My Dad had mood issues....but my Mom had mood issues along with delusions. He gets a bit defensive any time it’s brought up and wants to insist that the things she would talk about were real. There is no way he can actually believe it was reality, unless he has delusions himself. Maybe he feels like he’s disrespecting her if he doesn’t convince himself that she wasn’t delusional. I love her, and my understanding delusions aren’t reality is not disrespecting her. Like I told him, what I feel bad about was all the years that I didn’t really understand delusions, I would get mad at her, thinking she was making the stories up for attention. I understand that it was reality to her, she had a different thought process than I.

My Mom had a lot of false beliefs. At different points in time she would say that she’s Jesus’ sister. Different things like that. I believe in intuition and that type of thing, but she took it a bit far. She would think she knew things that she had no way of knowing. Psychic dreams. Voices would come to her and tell her of things or warn her of something. When I was a kid, my pet frog died. A friend was over the day before. She was convinced that my friend killed the frog. Banned her from the house, banned me from being around her, had a lot of things to say....the friend, her family and the entire neighborhood knew about it, it was humiliating. She was convinced she was Joan of Arc in her past life. She would take spells where she was intensely angry at me, like I was the enemy, those started early in my life......it was hard. I would feel really insecure and try to get her to be happy with me, and I remember feeling unloved and rejected. The more she pushed me away, the closer I tried to get to her.....the closer I tried to get to her, the more angry she would get.  She made accusations toward several people over the years, some pretty bad ones. 

I think the issue with my Mom pushing me away has effected my ability to attach normally to people and even things. I go from extremes of either being unattached or super attached, with very little gray away, it’s one way or the other. It usually take a long while for me to get attached, when I do it’s an extreme attachment. I also have insecurity issues from my childhood. I have times when i’m incredibly insecure, I start feeling the same way I did as a child - it’s a cold, lost feeling. Out of control, almost panicky. Now that i’e been with Mark for so long, I sometimes start to feel that insecure feeling, and feel really clingy with him. And anyone who knows me knows that CLINGY isn’t a word you could usually use to describe me. lol I’m kinda more independent and a little bit of a loner in some way, I like my space a lot of the time. But when I start to feel like that, I want to be near him all the time, touching him, otherwise I feel insecure and cuddle my pillow or something. lol I get extra affectionate and just plain “clingy”.....which I hate. At least it doesn’t happen often. 

My Mom’s most consistent delusion had to do with UFOs, space aliens.. My entire life, she would tell me (and anyone who would listen) all about her “alien family”. The same stories repeated, occasionally a new one would pop up. When I was really little, I was fascinated! I loved hearing her stories and she would excitedly tell me. When she was talking about these “space aliens”, she seemed truly happy for a change - I loved seeing her this way. As I got a little older and started to understand the difference between reality and non reality, I would get so mad. Mad, because I was convinced that she was lying to me. She thought I was stupid enough to believe it. I would sometimes argue with her over the things she would tell me, telling her it’s impossible. It wasn’t until into my adulthood that I fully grasped the realization that she wasn’t lying to me, she really believed things things. She had delusions, and it wasn’t her fault. I have guilt about the arguments and the anger. But I didn’t know what to think back then, my entire childhood was confusing with altered reality vs reality.....I was confused and frustrated. It was a source of a lot of my stress growing up. My Mom would go through spells where she would want to argue, and often the alien topic was brought up. It frustrated the crap out of my Dad and turned into major loud arguments. My brother Gary would often argue with her about it late into the night, loudly. Neil would usually take Mom’s side, and they’d all be having this ridiculous hours-long fights that would sometimes linger on for a few days. The tension in the house had me insecure, in a constant state of stress and confusion. It would occupy my mind. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t sleep. Felt sick in general, missed a lot of school. Total chaos at home. There were times that Mom would threaten to kill herself or threaten to pack up and leave. It freaked me out and I would really cling to her, was afraid if I was away from her, she’s do one or the other. 

She would draw pictures of the UFOs. Of the aliens. They had names as time went on. I remember she called one Alon (Ay-lon) and the other Libby. They were part of her “alien family”. They would talk to her, come to her in dreams. She would talk about being visited by them. From the time I can remember, she’d tell me that they were coming back for her. ....again, worried me when I was little. 

She would talk about the times she was on the space ship, describe it in detail. Getting VERY angry if anyone acted like they didn’t 100% believe her, argumentive and volatile. She talked about disappearing as a child, waking up on a hill, where she felt they dropped her off. I mean, so many detailed stories. My head was all sorts of messed up as a kid with all that confusion. 

My Mom had a dream in 1989 ( I was 9 at the time) that she would die in 1990. She had me convinced. I was so scared, i’d cry endlessly.....went into a depression, had serious anxiety. New Years eve ‘90 was the worst. I had so much dread and fear, I was crying like an idiot when midnight came along, begging my Mom not to die....I was 9, so I guess I thought I could talk her out of it? That entire year she would bring it up, and I lived in fear of losing her. 

I went through what is considered emotional abuse as a child. I can’t figure out whether I blame her for it or blame the illness. But it’s been something I still deal with today. Maybe she couldn’t help it. 

She would say the worst things to me. She wished I hadn’t been born, occasionally she’s say she hated me. I would get in her way, stress her out. She even told me (I was 15) that I killed my Dad. He had lung cancer, when I was 13. It went into remission. It later came back, and it was terminal. She insisted that I caused so much stress that it weakened his will to fight. I believed it. Even now, I struggle with guilt from it, even though I should know it wasn’t so. She would tell me that I wasn’t the daughter she hoped for. She said she wanted a meek daughter, quit and timid basically. I was a bit of a wild child with a strong opinion, loud voice and determination. I always felt inadequate, like there was something wrong with me. These days, I come across as being that timid type of person. I am a bit quiet, and really easy going.....but I am still a determined, independent and opinionated person with a wild side, those who know me well know this. lol 

As a child, most things were always my fault according to her. And a lot of the time, I felt like everyone was against me. More times than not, it would be 2 or 3 of my family members pissed off at me, siding with each other. I began to think that my existence was a burden on everyone. I dealt with depression and anxiety issues as a child. I remember the first time I felt suicidal, I was 6. There was a big fight going on (I don’t mean physical, it was always verbal and loud) and I was scared, my Mom and Dad being so upset with each other, and the threat of them divorcing, her leaving.....and this happened right after I had thought to myself, I wish they would get mad at each other and not me all the time. At 6, I thought I got my wish and it was my fault. I spent a lot of years hating myself, wishing I were different, and wishing I were loved. I craved affection, and my Mom wasn’t affectionate. I remember times i’d try, and she’s push me away and get mad at me. She said she didn’t like to be touched. When she was in her last days, I was talk to her, and gently rubbing her arm and she got really mad at me, and told me to stop. Noone in my family were very affectionate. My Dad would occasionally try to be lovey with my Mom, and she’s get mad and tell him to stop. Showing and receiving affection felt SO strange to me when I got into my teens and started dating. Over the years, i’ve became very affectionate, but it wasn’t something I learned during the time most people did. 

She would get mad at me for being like my Dad. She made him out to be the enemy. I was a Daddy’s girl when I was little, but she would get mad at him and get mad at me if I didn’t take her side. I didn’t want her mad at me, it was one of the worst feelings in the world to me. So I would often side with her, to keep things as peaceful as I could. I was always be the one trying to make everyone happy so they wouldn’t fight, then I would get frustrated when it didn’t work and go crazy with rage, screaming at everyone (or, call it a tantrum - it was extreme rage and frustration from lack of control, lack of normalcy.). I treated my Dad badly a lot of the time, didn’t respect him nearly as much as I should have and said some harsh things to him. I will always regret that, until my dying day. I wish I could have been closer to him as I got older. Wish he was around in my adulthood. I wonder what he would have thought about the adult me, the non tantrum throwing me. I put him through a lot. But now don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t perfect. He had some sort of a mood disorder, and I could see his moods shifting. There were times that I would see it about to happen and be extra nice act extra happy with him, trying to keep him happy. When he was in a bad mood, everyone knew it. He’d be really quiet until something set him off, then it was explosive. He wasn’t quiet, then. But when I think back to his life, the fighting between he and my Mom, I can kinda get it. He was under a lot of stress. He and I had a few good bonding moments, typically when we were out a store, away from the house. 

My Mom didn’t seem to want me and him to be close. Things would be tense when we were getting along. When I was really little, he was so good to me. Spent time with me, played with me. He would do this thing that I liked, and still love to have done...I called it “tickling” my back. Just lightly running your fingers over the skin, not rubbing - you know? Like a really soft tickly touch? He used to do that, until my Mom accused him of being a pervert, which caused a big fight and he stopped be affectionate with me. It was BULL, he wasn’t like that and there was nothing inappropriate about it....she even got mad at my brother for tickling (actual tickling this time) me when I was little, accusing the same. I know this difference between appropriate and inappropriate and that was NOT inappropriate in any way. When I was 2/3 years old, something did happen to me. I have some foggy memories, some details. It was NOT my Dad. I remember certain things, but not for sure who it was...but it was not him. When I tried telling my Mom about it in my teens, she accused him. If she felt to lowly about him, why did she stay with him?

She would body shame me, from the time I was really little. I was just a little chubby when I was about 9. She would tell me i’d better go on a diet, that no man will want me when i’m older, noone would marry me. I was cocky, and snapped back at her that I didn’t care, if a boy didn’t want me, I didn’t want him. Glad I felt that was from an early age, not sure where I got that. Maybe from my Dad, he tried to raise me strong and independent, with as much influence as he was allowed to have, that is.. Through my teens, she’s make remarks. Even after I ended up bulimic and losing over 100 pounds at 16. She would still disapprove of the way I looked. Tell me to wear longer shirts to cover my big butt. Tell me that no man wants a woman without boobs unless he’s gay....and when she said that, she was referring to an actress with bigger boobs than I have (not busty, but im ok with that). When I was really little, I loved to watch the Miss America pageant. I would dream of growing up to be pretty and being miss american, she stifled that dream telling me i’m too ordinary. In my teens, I was often told I should model. I talked to my Mom about it, and again, i’m too plain, too fat, too short and there are too many prettier girls as competition. I wanted to do ballet, she said I was too clumsy. I had attention from a few guys who would call me all the time, and she would tell me that they aren’t interested in me, just my car (had a nice car at the time)...I believed her, and started driving my Dads Mazda, still got attention, but her words just stuck with me. Never left me. 

I believe her delusions, at least the “alien family” was a result of some early trauma and loneliness. In my teens, I wanted to understand her better, so I would listen to her talk about them, notice the different expressions she would get on her face, the excitement as she would talk about it all. Her demeanor was different, very different. I would ask her questions, and talk to her about other things that went on in her life. She was the middle child of 7, and she often felt left out. So, that makes a little sense as to why her mind made up her own “family”. And she spoke of some traumatic events in her life, which also makes sense. These things along with a family history of mental health issues..

My brother gets defensive, mad and offended at some of the things I say. He often claims he doesn’t remember some things the way I do. But then, he talks about a lot of the alien stuff as if it’s fact, so our opinions definitely differ. I’m not saying I don’t believe in life on other planets. Anything is possible.....but my Mom was not on a damn space ship and noone will convince me otherwise. If he were to read this blog, he would disagree with it. But, this is MY way of getting years of stressful memories OUT of my head, because i’m ready to start new in 2018. 

I’ve kept a lot of things locked inside, my entire life. This year, that ends. 

I turned out fairly well, considering my childhood. I could have turned out MUCH worse. FAR from perfect, have a lot of things I am trying to work on. I’m trying to teach myself structure and routine.....so it’s all had some affect on me obviously. I did end up with mental health issues of my own. It’s hereditary, and trauma in my childhood (and even later) contributed to things. I am diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, PTSD from childhood trauma, and general anxiety disorder. Possibly social anxiety or panic disorder, not officially diagnosed. 

Because of the constant fighting, shouting and tension in the household when I was growing up (much of which came from me as well, I didn’t know how to deal with the frustration) - I now HATE to argue. I try to avoid topics that commonly end in an argument....do not talk to me about religion or politics... Being yelled at sends me into a rage. Someone yelling around me does one of two things, either make me mad or shatters my nerves and makes me shake like a chihuahua. I am a typically quiet and mellow person, with very little tolerance for negativity. I’ve learned to try to keep people around me happy, and almost lose it when it doesn’t work. 

My bipolar doesn’t define me. A few years ago, I told someone about having the disorder, and a couple mutual friends found out....and at least one of them had some really negative things to say about me. I didn’t tell anyone else about it for years, aside from people I became super close with. Even some of them never knew. I feared what people would think of me, what they’d say about me. I didn’t want to be looked at as different, or “crazy”. I DO NOT CARE ANYMORE. People can think anything they’d like, it doesn’t change who I am, only how they perceive me, how they choose to judge me. I’m not the stereotypical “bipolar”. I don’t do and say things, act like a complete ass and then blame in on having bipolar, as a lot of people do. I don’t see it as an excuse for anything, if I mess up, thats my character flaw, not bipolar. I do have the bad one, type I (which I recently found out and am still trying to grasp that) - but I don’t have the psychotic symptoms (even when im not on antipsychotics, never had these symptoms) such as hallucinations and delusions. A little surprising that I don’t, considering my family history. But I have a firm grasp on reality. No voices, I don’t see things that aren’t there. I don’t get promiscuous and sleep around.....I have the hypersexuality/ridiculously high sex drive, but I don’t have the desire to sleep around. I struggled with some alcohol issues in my teens (addiction is unfortunately common with bipolar, as is suicides) - but I got a grip on it after about 3 1/2 years.  People think everyone with bipolar makes tons of impulsive decision, gets addicted, gets in trouble, sleeps around, has wild mood swings and treating people in their life like total shit. Where it’s true, that a lot of people with bipolar do some of these things, not all do. It’s not bipolar that defines who they are, everyone has their own individual personality.....and some people just suck, and blame it on their disorder.

How bipolar effects me.. I’m often really scatterbrained, have a hard time staying focused - my mind races. When i’m having a manic episode (opposite of depression), I have a lot of thoughts going through my head. It sometimes feel like a trainwreck of thoughts, and my mind won’t slow down. It causes a lot of difficulty with sleep. A lot of difficulty just concentrating and getting things done. It’s VERY draining. I usually talk a lot more than usual, sometimes talk too fast, changing subjects a little abruptly, or switching back and forth between topics. I tend to blog more in my other blog (its a personal therapy blog, though today i’m making this one pretty personal). I forget things. My sexdrive goes up even more (though this happens with depression too at time, very recently in fact). I’m a bit more impulsive. I tend to want to be more social (usually), sometimes I go out to a club or have a few drinks during mania, not always. Sometimes, the mania elevates my mood a LOT higher than normal. Other times, not as often, it causes agitation, I can get a bit irritable...which is when I tend to close myself off from people and shift my focus on something to occupy my mind. Mania can last a while, weeks or even months. I’m lucky that my manias don’t have psychotic features. Mostly i’m just a scatterbrained mess. 

The other side is the depressive episodes. Dark times. They usually last a couple weeks or much longer. I have a harder time thinking of how to describe my depression, describing manic episodes was easier for some reason. I asked Mark how he would describe me when i’m depressed. He said stubborn, because he tries to get me to do things and I wont. ...but it’s not that I just won’t, I can’t. He also said if I could a cave or hole to hide in, I wouldn’t be heard from. That’s a good way to describe it. That’s actually how I feel when i’m in a deep depression. I pull away from everyone and everything, I can’t help it. I lose all interest in most things. I don’t typically get grouchy as some people do, just really sad or really far away mentally/emotionally. There have been times i’ve stayed away from people and didn’t talk for days during these times, that’s been years ago, though. I just can’t function. Things I know I need to do seem so difficult and so draining. I sometimes shut the world off for days at a time. It’s not ALWAYS this extreme though. I’ve been in a depressive episode without as much actual sadness, and have been able to function at least moderately. It varies. Sometimes my anxiety gets really bad during depression, my fears and worries are very much intensified. Unless the depression is bad enough to alter my functioning all together, you may not even know i’m depressed if we talk briefly or if I see you out. Over the years, I learned to mask my emotions (wasn’t supposed to be emotional or cry....was always very emotional, but it was looked upon as a weakness and i’d hear about it) . Usually, I can smile and be friendly, when i’m falling apart inside. I’ve been so depressed I barely feel like I want to live, and i’ve been able to fake a smile and listen to someone else’s problem and support them. I’d rather pull away and be alone that to bring them down. I’m an emotional sponge, meaning when i’m around a person, their emotions can wear off on me. Lower my mood, raise my mood, whatever. I don’t want to do that to anyone else, I try to seem happy, even when i’m not. When i’m depressed, I fall into a dark place. I have a lot of thought of death....not suicide, though i’ve felt that way numerous times during depression... Just general thoughts of death, what it would be like to die, morbid thoughts. I get more of an urge to spend time at places like the cemetery. Though I like cemeteries and abandoned places any time, not only when i’m depressed. 

I have rapid cycling, frequent mood changes (but not the stereotypical going from happy to sad or mad - just drifting from episode to episode). I have also been experiencing mixed episodes for a while, at least a year. I can have som symptoms of mania mixed with some depressive symptoms. I absolutely HATE that feeling, those are really hard to deal with. And confusing, trying to figure out if im about to go into a manic episode or a depression.

My Ptsd comes from several traumatic times in my life, beginning in childhood with all the confusion and big arguments (c-ptsd, chronic or ongoing trauma), emotional abuse. But, i’ve had some very traumatic things happen in my teens and adulthood, too. I’m still trying to figure out which of my symptoms are from ptsd, and which are from bipolar or anxiety. Ptsd is confusing to me. 

The general anxiety disorder is bad. I always have some anxiety, but when it really gets triggered (someone goes wrong, typically) I obsess over the problem, can’t get it off my mind, and it can go on for days nonstop. Intrusive thoughts, inability to distract myself. And after my heart attack, i’ve developed either social anxiety (?) or panic disorder it seems. I’ve had several panic attacks in public, causing my heart to race, a lot of sweating, red face, dizziness, extreme anxiety and the strong urge to get away from everyone. I haven’t had a bad one since I started a med called Buspar, hoping it’s working. 

So yeah, that’s the issues I deal with. Trying to get a grasp on things, slowly working routines into my life (I was raised without routine, without structure, learning these things now, better late than never) - I am thinking that having good routine in my life will help A LOT with dealing with those things. I want 2018 to be different, make the positive changes that i’ve always wanted to do. Having Sierra around has been really good for me, as I have to have a bit of a routine going to provide structure in her life. I know how important THAT is, so it’s one of my top priorities. And she never had that with her bio-mother. We’ve done really well with that since she’s been with us. It’s my own personal routines that need fixed. lol 

I didn’t intend to write this much. Had a lot on my mind, had to get it out of my head. If anything i’ve said changes your opinion of me, that’s your personal choice and i’m fine with it. I’ve probably made some typos along the way. lol I’m going to stop writing for now. Ttyl