#finally get a chance to write something for you after everything you've drawn for me

[seravphs]

a present for sumi <3

“Where are you going all buttoned up like that, Father?”

“You think you’re funny,” Sae says. 

When you laugh, your whole body shakes with it. The iron chains holding you make scraping noises across the concrete floor. 

“I’m being serious,” you say earnestly. “I’m looking out for you, really. Don’t you know that my imagination is so much worse than reality? Trying so hard to cover up only makes me wonder what you’re hiding.” You let your eyes leer over his form, as if you can see under his black robes.

Sae ignores you, getting closer. He kneels by your side and tests your chains with one hand. The iron holds fast. “Not too uncomfortable, I hope?” 

You try another tactic. 

“You’re a brave man, Father. But brave is just another word for stupid sometimes. Don’t you feel bad? You’re going to leave your flock unguarded. Maybe, when I’m done with you, I’ll come and eat them up.” 

You bite at him playfully. At least, it was meant to be playful. Sae doesn’t seem to be interested in playing along. 

Quick as a whip, he snags your mouth and pulls it open, running the tips of his fingers against your razor sharp teeth. Amazingly, they remain unbroken. 

“Hey!” You spring back. “That’s rude!” 

He scoffs at you. “Eat them up with those blunt teeth? You’d be better off taking the meals I give you.” 

You should’ve known he’d be harder to manipulate. He’s already proven it to you. 

You came to him in the guise of an angel. It wasn’t hard to pretend. The family resemblance means you all have the same otherworldly features. Without a moral axis, divinity is just divinity. And if you’re not told otherwise, you might just mistake a demon for a god. 

So it’s justifiable why you thought Sae would be easy. Most people are, even priests. They’re too taken with your burning eyes to notice the scent of brimstone that follows you around. 

You thought Sae was the same. He invited you in, led you into the basement. Then, just before you were about to strike, he clapped you in these chains. 

Finished with testing your restraints, he stands up. Before he gets completely off the floor, something catches his eyes. His hand lashes out, catching your tail. It writhes in his grip. 

His eyes spark, almost like a cat does upon seeing a mouse. He tugs at it. 

“Stop,” you whine, trying to tuck it under you. 

It only makes him worse. He runs his thumb against the underside of it, stroking where it tapers to a point. It makes you shiver. He cracks a small smile. 

“Cute.” 

Your tail lashes, pulling itself out of his grip. 

“I’ve never seen a demon up close before,” Sae says. His gaze is intense. “I know you have a tail. What else about you is different?”

You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It’s a cold kind of gaze. You feel like he’s preparing you for dissection. You wouldn’t put it past him. 

His hand cups your cheek, forcing your gaze up at him. Down on your knees, you feel strangely like one of his parishioners, a sinful being seeking absolution. His thumb rubs itself back and forth over your cheekbone. 

He almost looks like he might kiss you.  

“Wait," you stutter out. “Your vows. Your god, remember?” 

Sae looks down at you. His face is impassive. For a second, the light reflects off the stained glass behind him, catching him in its glow. He looks almost divine. 

“I think,” Sae drawls, his hands on you. “He’d forgive me this once.” 

“Wait,” you’re panicking. “Wait. Hang on. We can talk about this.” 

“I’m just joking,” he says. “I would never.” 

That annoys you. What does he mean he would never? He thinks he’s too good for you, just because he’s a lamb of god? 

“I am grateful for you, you know,” he says softly. “I thank my god that he sent you.” 

“He did not!”

“I was losing faith before I found you.” 

“I’m going to kill you,” you tell him. “And drag you screaming down below!” 

“Then take me to hell,” Sae says. His finger taps your cheek lightly, almost fondly, almost in the imitation of a love peck. “That is, if you can, little demon.” 

guys i have a wicked idea. what if you guys give me a public execution

[vampykween]

Second Chances (part 1)

i wanted to write about singledad!ghost x teacher!reader (which is so self indulgent as im a teacher hehe) and thus this was born summary: little poppy is simon riley's entire world and you've just had yours turned completely upside down. despite everything, it seems like everything falls into place when you're with each other. this is going to be a little series - i already have a few drabbles written and have l more ideas up my sleeve, but feel free to let me know all of yall's ideas too!! dedicated to @suimon since you love my dad!ghost so much hehe mwah

Simon is just short of pulling his hair out. He’s spent all morning wrestling with a five-year old who, last night was bouncing off the walls excited about her first day of school, but now is inconsolable and quite frankly working his last nerve.

“Poppy, love, please just get dressed. We don’t have all morning for you to mess about.”

Poppy shrugs her shoulders and blows a raspberry right in her father’s face. “Let me go, I’m not going to school,” the five-year old squirms in her father’s grasp, less than thrilled at the prospect of getting dressed for school.

Simon briefly considers whether he should invest any more energy into their morning battle or if he should just concede and let his daughter win this round. Despite her protests, he keeps his hold on Poppy and tries his best to calm her down enough to reason with her. Sometimes Simon couldn’t believe this was his life, he was tussling with his daughter about getting ready for school, when in a past life all he was ever worried about was backing his team throughout a mission. He used to be a trained killer now the only thing he’s an expert at is making silly voices for all the book characters at bedtime.

“You were so excited about school just last night, what happened lovie, what’s going on with you?”

Poppy just stares at him with her big doe eyes, the ones that look exactly like her mother’s, and makes Simon’s chest ache painfully. It’s moments like these that make him feel like the grief would never end.

After a drawn-out minute, she finally squeaks out, “What if I don’t like school? What if people are mean to me?” Simon’s heart breaks at his little girl’s admission, he, of course, worried about those things too; he wasn’t sure he even wanted to send her off for hours every day, but he also knew that Poppy could handle it.

Simon grasps both of her much smaller hands, “You’re the best girl I know, what’s not to love yeah? I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends, sweetheart.” Simon isn’t sure who he’s reassuring more at this point, but he’ll say anything to get them both through this day and all the ones that come.

Poppy sighs loudly and by something short of a miracle, she concedes with getting dressed; Simon let her pick out her own outfit, in hopes that it would rekindle her previous excitement. It helped, but only marginally.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom, is not the teacher Simon had been expecting. When he thought of teachers, he imagined either super strict, uptight older women or bright and bubbly young women fresh out of university. You were neither of those – you wore a bright smile that reached your eyes, and your voice had the most warm and comforting lilt to it. Contrastingly, you were dressed head to toe in an all-black outfit, but it didn’t make you look dark and dreary, no, on you it worked quite well. Poppy finally, but reluctantly revealed herself from behind her father’s legs, and stepped forward to greet her new teacher.

“Hi! What’s your name?” you were clearly not from anywhere near, and Poppy immediately comments on it.

“My name is Poppy, like the flower, and you talk very funny.”

Simon groaned, “Poppy, that’s not very polite, love.”

“No, no it’s alright. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that this morning,” you laugh breezily, not affronted by the little girl’s observation. The sound of your laugh is like a mirage in a desert, and Simon is taken aback at how much the sound affected him. You crouch down and introduce yourself to Poppy, then rise to greet Simon as well. You hold out your hand, clearly in an attempt to shake his, and he shakes his head to clear his stupor and takes your hand. Your hands are much smaller than his own, and much softer, not calloused from battlefields and the hardships of life.

❀

You hope you’re coming off as a well put together adult, one who’s supposed to be in charge of people’s most precious gifts. Threatening to ruin your façade is the fact that you’re shaking hands with quite possibly the hottest man you’ve seen since you upturned your life and moved to London a few months ago. This is your student’s dad, jesus get a grip, you hastily remind yourself. You can’t help yourself though, and your eyes are roaming over his massive hands searching for a wedding band. You’re not sure whether it’s a good thing or not when you see there isn’t one. He’s hot, but he’s got a child, and you’ve just had your heart shattered into a million pieces this summer. The last thing you need is to be lusting after your student’s unreasonably hot father.

You’re not even sure you want to be here; nothing had gone the way you planned and now you’re a million miles away from your family – who had forewarned you that your ex maybe was not worth moving across the world for, but you were in love, you didn’t want to hear that.

Poppy, who seemingly gained some confidence, breezes past her father and finds her way easily into the classroom. You looked back up at her father, realizing you hadn’t caught his name – he tilts his head ever so slightly at you as if he’s trying to discreetly assess you and it makes your palms sweat.

“I didn’t catch your name, can’t call you Poppy’s dad all year now, can I?” you prod causally, laughing despite the stifling air that was forming between you two.

“You can call me Simon,” he replies elusively and suddenly you’re overcome with the feeling that there’s something mysterious about this man – and as attractive as he is, the revelation also makes you feel unnerved.

taglist: @happy-mushrooms @lunamoonbby

banners from @reveriesources and @cafekitsune pic creds: @ave661

[idabbleincrazy]

Never a Wish Better Than This (1/?)

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E

Pairing: Clex

Characters: Clark, Lex, others mentioned

Word Count: 3005

Warnings: fix-it fic, season 4, first person pov, switching pov, feelings

Summary: Clark turns 18, Lex takes one last chance at making things right between them.

A/N: so, yeah...I never write in first person for fic, but it just felt right for this one. set between Blank and Ageless, with references to s1-4 throughout. hope you like my first attempt at a Clex fic!

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"I owe you my life, Clark. I'll never forget that."

"I guess adrenaline is really a powerful thing, Clark. Good thing, too, or all three of us would be dead now."*

"Yes, I was looking into the accident, but I'm done with that. There's nothing under the surface I need to know."

"I had to kill him, Clark, you understand that right? He hurt you, he was going to kill your father. I had to."

"I put too much trust in a pair of pretty green eyes, and nearly lost everything. I let her too close and almost paid for that mistake with my life, and your father's freedom. And, once again you saved me."

"You know, my father told me, every Arthur needs his Merlin. But even Merlin couldn't save Arthur from falling in the end. Luckily, I have you, Clark. Let's just hope you can keep me from a one way trip to Avalon."

"I wish you could trust me, Clark, really trust me. I just can't stop feeling like there's something important you've kept hidden from me, since the day we met. And, every time I think you're close to finally telling me, you veer off course."

"I'm glad you're back to normal, repressed, farmboy. Rebellion isn't really your color, Clark. But, if you ever need to borrow the Ferrari again, make sure it stays within the town limits."

"I'm not sure if I'm more relieved or disappointed, knowing for sure you're not my brother, Clark. It would have been nice, growing up with you, but at least you aren't tainted by Luthor blood." 

"I'm sorry about Ryan, Clark. Guess I was wrong, you really would make a great brother."

"Naman and Sageeth, Warrior Angel and Devilicus…I hate when stories don't give the details on how two people go from being best friends to sworn enemies."

"I'm sorry about how often your family gets drawn into the Luthor chaos, Clark. I hope you don't regret our friendship."

"I truly am sorry about my part in Eric Marsh coming after you and your parents, Clark. I wouldn't have bailed him out if I had known. The last thing I would ever want is for your family to be hurt."

"My memory of my actions shortly before I was admitted to Belle Reve are hazy at best, but if the pain I'm told I caused you and Lana really happened, I'm sorry, Clark. I only hope I didn't do anything too…untoward, with you, beyond nearly shooting you. Only, I keep getting a fuzzy picture in my head, when I try to remember. You, and me, in the loft. I was singing a lullaby. Suddenly, I was right next to you, and then there was this warmth, your warmth, surrounding me. Whenever I think of that moment, my lips ache."

"Why won't you let me help you, Clark? I could protect you from my father, if you would just open up to me. What is so damned important about those caves that we just keep circling back to them? What are those drawings to you?"

"I appreciate your worry, Clark, but isn't it a bit hypocritical to keep pushing me to reveal my most tumultuous secrets, while denying me your own?"

"You chose right with Pete, Clark. I envy his strength. I'm sorry he had to move. But it's probably safer this way, for both of you."

"I'm glad I can call you my friend again, Clark. I'm sorry I messed it up the first time around. These have been the loneliest five months of my life. I've grown too used to you showing up on my doorstep when I least expect it."

"What is it that you're hiding from me, Clark? What did I learn in those seven weeks that just keeps eluding me? All these secrets and lies…I don't know how much more I can take."

"There's a darkness inside me, Clark, and it scares me. One small lapse in judgment, and I could hurt everyone I care about."

May 3rd, 2005

Lex's POV: 

So many starts to conversations that ended before they really went anywhere. So many opportunities to get closer, to rid ourselves of the distance between us, to bring to light the secrets that stained and strained our friendship. But then, that was why I was usually the one ending them, wasn't it? Even when I was the one who started it. Pulled away, put the walls back up, slipped that mask of cool indifference back on, before he could get too close. Because if he did, how could I resist?

How would I be able to walk away, sane and whole, if he closed that gap? If he bared his soul, spilled all his secrets, how could I keep him pure? That beautiful, innocent, pristine farmboy, would only be tainted if he got that close. Too young, too naive…I would have ruined him. I still might.

I could count the number of people I have ever cared about almost as much as I care about Clark on one hand, with three digits left to spare. I would call it love, if I thought I still had the ability to feel that particular emotion. I've tried for nearly four years to keep him at arm's length. Tried for four years to let myself have the one thing I wanted even more than my father's approval. Four years of yearning, dreaming of thick, black hair, and piercing green eyes. Haunted by pouting lips that could drive angels to sin, and hands big and strong enough to catch them when they fell. 

Will I ruin this perfect, flawed, creature once I have him in my arms? After he has saved me countless times since that first life-changing, life-ending…life-starting…day on the bridge, could I take the chance that I won't destroy him? Can I really resist the chance to find out? Even a saint's patience has its limits. 

How many trips to Suicide Slums have I made, finding just the right shade of green eyes, the right pair of plump lips, shoulders just broad enough, to make the endless need go away, just for a little bit? Just long enough to pretend I didn't ache every time Clark walked through my door. That I didn't want anything more than to push him down onto the leather couch in my office and despoil that paragon of perfection. Tan, dark haired men aren't too hard to find, if you know where to look, if you have the right connections, and the wallet big enough to back it up. So eager to please, to kneel, to worship the Luthor cock. But none of them, not one, close enough to his perfection to sate my hunger for his presence. 

This past year has been the hardest, months spent trying to salvage the wreckage of our friendship. The mysterious and creepy misadventure of my father somehow switching bodies with Clark. Chloe's wild and out birthday party, that I'm sure I still don't have all the details on. Being framed for the murder of an innocent woman by a scorned one-night-stand, both of whom I only even glanced twice at because of features that made me think of Clark. Almost killing the entire Kent family with one of my ill-thought experiments. Watching Jason and Lana, envious of what they had, wanting that with Clark. Their age gap had been the least of their problems, and seeing them together had given me hope, even if they had ultimately parted ways. I know it's a small town with even smaller world views, but still…

There I go, getting ahead of myself again. Thinking like I know for a fact that Clark feels the same way I do, that the attraction is mutual. But, I've seen the looks he's given me over the years. The deer-in-the-headlights look I see when we're playing pool and I've just turned around from taking my shot, his gaze quickly flitting up to mine, and away, his next move fumbled. Felt the lingering touches, like he didn't want to have to pull away. He's the only one I let touch me so casually, you know? The only one I willingly hug, even if the embrace is painfully shorter than I care for. Even lovers aren't allowed to touch more than necessary to bring me off. I flinch from my father's hand whenever possible, my skin crawling with unease when he manages to act out his parody of paternal love. 

But, how many times have I greased the way into Lana's heart for Clark? Sure, they were mostly misguided attempts to rid myself of the temptation he posed. And still, through all their back and forth, they just couldn't make it work. It gave me hope that I tried to ignore, Clark's inability to settle for either Lana or even Chloe. …Or Alicia, who seemed to be both girls wrapped in one, beautiful and brilliant, but so very troubled; though, given how long he'd mourned her, she may have come the closest to keeping his heart. 

How many times, during our talks, have I seen those cow eyes darken, ever so slightly, before the faintest flush of color rose on his cheeks, making him turn away, his speech suddenly stumbling? How many of my loaded comments have left him speechless, the untrippable boy now awkward as a fawn taking its first steps. Is it such a stretch to really believe there's a possibility of him returning my affection? 

The Grandfather clock in the corner strikes the hour, and I stand from my chair. Time to bring some kind of resolution to the circles we seem to run around each other. One way or the other. But first, one more look at Clark's gift. I hope it's one he'll accept without all the hemming and hawing that's followed every other token of my appreciation and affection.

Clark's POV: 

I had almost given up hope of him accepting my invitation. What excitement can a small gathering of friends at a farm in Kansas hold to draw the attention of a world-savvy billionaire? Fried chicken and homemade cake could hardly compare to caviar and creme brulee. But still, I could hope. Hope that he'll show up, even for a minute, hope that he'll help give this regrowing friendship a fighting chance. 

It's hard to keep that hope for friendship from spreading into hope for something more. 

Since that day on the bridge, I’ve tried wrapping my mind around so many feelings, so many confusing urges. It was worse in the beginning, my body going through so many changes, both human and alien. Learning bits and pieces of the truth of who I am. Still so much left unknown. 

As my mind wanders, I look over at my friends. Pete showed up this afternoon, a surprise. Said he couldn't miss the only birthday party I've ever thrown. He'll probably have to leave soon if he wants to make it back to Wichita before curfew. Chloe, with her bright, bubblegum smile and knowing eyes, doing her best to keep Lois from annoying me too much. Lana, demure smile in place, eyes flitting over to me every so often. My heart twinges with a good dose of guilt every time she does. 

I still hold a place for her in my heart, but it's not the same. Hasn't been since he moved in, really. Lana was the girl next door, the one I thought I would always see as the love of my life. But, since that day on the bridge, slowly, but surely, things have changed.

Saving Lex was the catalyst for so much change. That not-really-a-kiss threw a wrench into everything I thought I knew about myself. It was only CPR, but from the first press of my lips against Lex's, it was like the whole world had shifted. And not just mentally. It was as if bringing Lex back to life had been a jumpstart on a molecular level. Before, I'd always been strong and fast and practically indestructible, but within a few weeks of meeting Lex, up popped the x-ray vision. God, that was an embarrassing couple of weeks while I got it under control. The vague dreams I'd been having got slightly more focused after I caught a flash of Lex in his boxers before I could close my eyes. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up sticky, but before that, it had always been Lana haunting my erotic dreams, like when I'd first started waking up floating above my bed. 

I had managed to push aside the confusing feelings that were blooming since meeting Lex, mostly, until the start of my sophomore year and the height of the heat wave. How many fires did I almost start, thinking of Lex? Those were the worst few months. Especially while Desiree was around. Talk about confusing. Didn't help that Chloe had to chime in with her observation that Desiree looked like a female version of me. Suddenly all I could think of was Lex giving me the sultry, sloe-eyed stares he'd been giving her. 

After that, my imaginings decided they were no longer happy secluding themselves to my sleeping hours. The first time I touched myself to thoughts of Lex happened shortly after Desiree's spell over him was broken. None of my jerk-off sessions had ever led to that powerful an orgasm. Thank God my parents weren't home; I don't think I'd have had the higher brain function required to explain the scream that accompanied my explosive release.

After my mini freak out over the careening change in direction of my fantasies, I did some…research. Let's just say, I really hope my parents don't do any in-depth searching into my internet history any time soon. My dad really doesn't need another heart attack. 

Through the wonders of the internet, I discovered that, yeah, maybe I did have some attraction to guys. None of the porn I stumbled across made me feel quite as aroused as my Lex-based daydreams, but I couldn't deny that there had been some definite tightening of my jeans as I watched. I also discovered that my attraction to girls may have lessened, but not entirely disappeared. Lana still entered my dreams from time to time; and there was that one really haunting visit where she showed up while Lex and I were tangled together, and instead of the freak-out dream-me had expected, she eagerly joined in. That had led me down a whole other rabbit hole. 

But, still, life continued on, with just another secret about myself to hide beneath my naive, bumbling exterior. I think I've managed to keep my growing attraction to Lex a secret from nearly everyone. Except maybe from Chloe. She's altogether too good at ferreting out the truth, and I've seen some of the looks she's given me when the conversation turns to Lex, or when he shows up with yet another extravagant gift I can't keep. If anyone knows, it would be her. Has she seen it there, on my face? The longing? The need? Are they the same looks I never managed to recognize her casting my way…the same looks I sometimes still see her give me when she thinks I'm not looking? 

Things only got harder after tenth grade. After I ran away in a haze of red Kryptonite, guilt-ridden over the aftermath of my decision to destroy the ship and bitter over Lex's latest marriage. Metropolis opened my eyes to a world of new experiences. While Clark was busy hiding from the pain he'd caused and the struggle of figuring out whether he still loved Lana the same way he always had or if Lex had slowly but surely replaced her atop that lonely pedestal, Kal was having the time of his life. 

No rules, no chores, no curfew, and just legal enough. Oh yeah, Kal had no qualms about living it up in the big city. And now I've got a brain full of memories, memories of experiences I'd rather have explored with people I'd known for more than an hour. I mean, I'm still a…virgin…in all the ways that count the most, but there were plenty of firsts that got checked off the list during those months of self-imposed exile. But, I confirmed without a doubt that I am definitely, undeniably, bisexual.

I knew Lex had supplanted himself ahead of Lana in my romantic leanings when the sight of her with Jason didn't hurt the way seeing her with Whitney had. The love I felt for her had shifted. Lex is who I see now, when I close my eyes and let my hand wander beneath my boxers, smooth, pale skin and stormy eyes fill my head as I bite back my cries of pleasure. No matter how complicated and strained our friendship has become, he's the one I want. The one I need. 

The sound of a sturdy raprap against the door shakes me from my tangled thoughts. Mom goes to answer it and the slow tightening in my jeans quickly threatens to cut off all circulation of blood flow as Lex steps through into the kitchen where we're all gathered. God, why do we have to celebrate my birthday in May? Why couldn't it have been in the dead of winter, when layers and thick, form-obscuring fabrics are a necessity? 

He's wearing one of my favorite outfits of his. The sleeves of the lilac shirt strain around the deceptive muscles of his upper arms as he walks closer, his gray slacks a mix between casual and business, perfect creases shifting with each step. What skin there is that's bared to my sight is slightly reddened by the wind I knew he created on the drive over. Almost dying in an accident hasn't tempered his need for speed. I'm so lost in my ogling that it takes a nudge from Chloe to realize Lex has been speaking to me. Yeah, she definitely knows.

*******

@leatafandom (big hug and thanx for your cheerleading!)

[ultimateissuessimp]

Lost and Found

Chapter 8 FINALE - What needed to be done

Word count: 2,469

Warnings: descriptions of gore (will be marked with = at the moment it starts and = when it ends), mentioned death of a character, trauma, bad writing

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Notes: All dividers that I use are made by me (If you see art that I have used, but not credited - please notify me), you might notice that even though it says "featuring Team Free Will" there's not a lot of them there as one would think. In fact they are not even mentioned by their names which was intentional ince the sotry does not focus on them but the reader and Morpheus, they're the ones that matter the most after all.

FINALE. Thank you for surviving through while reading this and for the love this story had received!

Y/N landed with a loud grunt on the hard concrete in front of the motel. He tried to get up and look around, assess where he was and how to get out of the shitty situation, but was stopped by a foot landing on his back, pushing him back down onto the concrete and making him let out a pained groan.

Then he heard voices, two voices that were getting closer and closer. He turned his head to the side, seeing the familiar to him duo and groaned out again, this time of annoyance.

-I'd recommend leaving right now, boys. Unless you'd like to go through something worse than Hell - he said, his voice strained over how tightly he was being pressed to the ground.

-Who do you think you are to tell us what to do? - the blonde shouted out in a gruff voice that clearly spoke of how pissed off the man was, his brother next to him had a focused, serious expression on his face as he observed the situation, weapons drawn and pointed at the nightmare.

-I'm trying to save your fucking lives, you ungrateful prick! - he shouted back, struggling against the hold on his body before finally reaching his dagger that he hid at his hip while Valgrat was busy snarling and growling at the hunters.

He swung his arm out, with precision cutting the nightmare's leg, making it screech and jump back from him. Y/N quickly stood up to face Valgrat, dagger at the ready while he looked around for anything that he could use as a distraction so he could easily capture the being.

He knew it wouldn't be easy, especially with the nightmare's unsteady and chaotic nature. He had to think and he had to do it fast. Otherwise he would end up with two dead hunters and probably serious injuries on himself. He saw Valgrat charging at him and he jumped to the side, having to do a roll because of the force he put into it. After all, Valgrat was not a small, puny being.

-Hey, listen to me! I have no fucking idea why you chose to throw a hissy fit and run from the Dreaming, but you have to go back and maybe, MAYBE Lord Morpheus will let not disintegrate you! - Y/N yelled towards the nightmare which seemed to only piss him off and try to charge at him again. He heard shots being fired right at Valgrat, which made him freeze and whip his head to the hunters.

-Stop! Just fucking leave! You're going to make everything worse! Plus, you're only going to aggravate him more! Your stupid guns won't do anything to him! - he shouted angrily, pointing with his outstretched hand towards the nightmare before turning towards his target once again and taking out his necklace from underneath his shirt. Before he got the chance to do an incantation that would slow Valgrat down, he got blown away with one powerful strike before landing five meters away in the arms of the being's creator.

-Stop this childish nonsense at once, Valgrat. You've killed many humans, broke the most important of rules that I made and now you're hurting the person that stuck up for you so many times. It's pathetic - Morpheus said, quite calmly while his facial expression spoke of danger. That's why he never wanted to land on the wrong side of the Dream Lord. He was intimidating when he wasn't even trying to be, but right now? The coldness to his voice? The deep disappointment mixed anger at being crossed by one of his own creations? It was bone chilling. Terrifying. If he was anyone else, he would try to run the moment he saw him in this state, but he wasn't just anyone and he definitely would not run.

-Can we end the yapping? There's a monster that needs to be taken care of! - the blonde male shouted again, never even for a second lowering his gun away from the nightmare. His brother though started to look a bit more understanding of the situation and tried to get the older man to calm down before he makes the situation worse, but still somewhat trying to be supportive by keeping his gun on the nightmare as well.

This only brought Valgrat's attention back to them and made him attack. Y/N quickly got out of the Dream Lord's hold and ran towards them, getting in between and started to spell out an incantation before Valgrat got right up in his face and looked deeply into his eyes with his own voids, making the breath he was intaking catch in his throat. His eyes turned milky white as he stood there, multiple horrendous images from his life flashing right in front of him like a PowerPoint presentation.

He started sweating, breathing got heavy as he looked around, panicking when a specific memory stopped right before him. The one he dreaded the most. The reason why his relationship with Morpheus was so strained. He stared right in front of himself at the small girl standing there, looking back at him with her void eyes. A sign of it actually being Valgrat and not his niece. Yet that didn't make him feel any better about the whole thing.

-Why don't you tell him? Why don't you tell him how much of a coward you are? That you were a pathetic excuse of a nightmare hunter that could barely save his niece? I wonder how you even thought that would happen? You came to the manor, created chaos, tried to get to the basement where you knew they kept him, yet were stopped by a young boy… A young boy who wanted to be appreciated by his father, holding your niece at gun point. What did you do? Did you fight? Did you try and save both of them? - a voice of a little girl with the echo of a deep, growly one was able to be heard through the void. His fake niece stared at his with disgust before disappearing and showing a scene it previously described.

Y/N could only stare in shock, completely frozen in place with guilt, shame and fear. It felt like being back there all over again and he hated it. He hated it with every fiber in his body. He observed as the fake him looked in shock at the boy threatening to shoot his niece, while the old man grinned in the most vile way possible at the situation that was unfolding before him, taking in joy out of it.

-Whatever you think you're doing, it's not worth it, kid, believe me. Please, just… Let her go, she didn't do anything, she doesn't have to be a part of this! - the fake him pleaded, trying to get to the boy with his words, one hand outstretched towards them while taking a step closer. The boy only tightened his hold on the pistol and pressed it even more to her head, making her cry out in fear and cower, trying to get away from harm's way. Y/N stopped in his tracks, his stomach almost in his throat as he looked at the boy, silently pleading him to stop.

-I think it's too late for that now, Nightmare Hunter. She has been a part of this the moment my dear friend told me about you and how you would try to destroy my plans. I know everything about you and her. Now you're going to leave and never try to save that devil in the glass cage again or your sweet little niece will lose her life - the man said from behind him, taking a few steps towards the little six year old girl, taking a lock of her hair and twirling it in between his fingers. - Said friend also told me how to extract one's soul. Not only that though, no. Extracting is a child's play. He told me how to destroy it. You have no idea how easy is that. You don't want to see what will happen to her soul if you don't leave and stop trying to come here - he added, showing the girl's said soul in a little see through container, glowing brightly like a star in the night, which filled Y/N with dread.

-Fine! I'll leave! - he shouted, both hands in front himself as he tried to diffuse the situation. He thought about it, figured out that Dream was strong, he knew he would withstand whatever was brought onto him and his niece not. It pained him to choose, but he had to and he promised his best friend that he would take care of her daughter. She would kill him right now for even getting her into a situation like this one. He had to save her.- Just please… Don't hurt her… - he said more quietly, a pleading look on his face as his eyes kept going from his terrified niece to the smug old man.

-Oh you can take her with you for all I care. All you have to do is leave and never come back, but that shiny little thing? No, that is staying with me. Not only is it my leverage over you so you don't pull some shit on me, but it also makes a fine addition to my collection - Burgess said with a smirk, waving the container around before hiding it again.

-You'll fucking pay for this, Roderick Burgess… - Y/N hissed out, his eyes filled with anger as he stared at him with the biggest amount of hate he had ever felt in his life. Not only was he unable to save his lover, he was unable to save his niece too. He felt useless, unworthy of his titles, unworthy of his lover and his niece.

Suddenly everything disappeared in front of the real Y/N's eyes that were filled with angry and guilty unshed tears, shame coursing through his veins more than the blood his heart was pumping. Just like that, he was brought back to reality where he was being shaken by the taller hunter while the older one was looking at him with wide eyes before staring to the side at the Dream Lord who began dealing with the nightmare. What felt like eternity in his personal hell, was actually just a couple of seconds in the real world.

-Did you know he could hear you? Sadly only the part where you declared that you will leave… It almost sounded like you… Gave up on him. So unlucky… - the nightmare said to Y/N, his deep, growly voice with that echo reverberating through everyone's chests while he was getting disintegrated.

Y/N only fell forward onto the concrete, his hands outstretched against it, holding him up, shakily, yet strong enough for the time being. Tears of sorrow flowed down his cheeks as he tried to calm himself down from hyperventilating. He saw a pair of black boots before himself and he didn't dare look up, terrified of the thought of what he could see on the face of the man his heart ached for. Yet then he felt arms wrap around him and pull him into a secure embrace. His breath caught in his throat as he closed his eyes tightly and wrapped his arms around Morpheus tightly.

-You do not have to explain anything. I have seen what you had to do… I'm sorry you ever had to choose between me and your family. It was unfair to you - Morpheus said quietly, his voice hush and deep as he tried to soothe the man in his arms. - I forgive you - he added, pressing his forehead against the top of Y/N's head, making the man sob quietly, his hold tightening of Morpheus, afraid it was just another trick coming from Valgrat.

The two hunters couldn't help, but stare at the situation before them before the taller man placed his hand on the older one's shoulder and made him walk away a bit to give the two men some privacy during their moment. They could ask the questions later and they had many. Suddenly the angel, ready to fight if needed, yet very much late, appeared next to them, scaring the living shit out of both of them, the blonde pushing him away, irritated at being spooked.

-Stop doing that! - the blonde hissed out, looking at the angel with annoyance before turning around and walking away a few meters to sit down in the bench not too far away from the motel. The two men followed him, one having much more questions than the other since he was absent during what was happening there.

-Y/N… I want you to look at me. I'll find your niece's soul, I promise that to you - the Dream Lord said, looking at the man in his arms with sincerity and affection that comfortably started to seep out once again, just like in the old times.

-I don't know how to thank you. Not only did I fail as a lover, I also failed as a guardian of my niece. I don't deserve your forgiveness and neither do I deserve her's - he sobbed out, his eyes red from all the tears that only kept on streaming down his face. He couldn't stop them at this point.

-Don't you dare say that again. You did what you had to do. You chose an option that you deemed as the best one and I can't blame you for that. I realised that I unrightuflly blamed you for over a century and let you suffer through all of that - Morpheus said, running his hand through the man's hair before placing the gentlest of kisses on his forehead, then slowly helping him stand up. - Now let us depart. We have work to do, my love - he added with the slightest of smiles as he looked at Y/N that spoke of the utmost love he held for him while their pinkies were joined together.

The three males that were still waiting on the bench not so far away saw, that the two beings began to slip away from them and immediately took off to catch them while they could, yelling after the two that they demanded some answers on what the fuck occurred there, what they were, what that thing they fought was. Basically anything that would grant them knew knowledge about the supernatural. They only got an amused look from Morpheus and a wave of his fingers with a slight chuckle from Y/N before they disappeared in a whirl of sand and with them all of their things from their room, leaving the three alone near the motel.

-Son of a bitch! - yelled the blonde.

[caterkinnie]

Vil, idia and jamil with an s/o who likes to draw ship art of him and themself a lot?

How do they react to ship art of you and him...? (Vil, Idia, Jamil)

summary: oh yes, let's be realistic, you're into fandoms, a lot. And you're pretty good at drawing too! Which means... You could draw yourself and your boyfriend doing cheesy couple things!

genre: fluff, romantic

warnings: not proofread. im sleepy

Vil is aware that some of his fans… write and draw things about him.

He knows about fanfiction, and while it isn't as common as self-ship art of him — he has seen it before.

He's pretty neutral about it, as long as it doesn't go too far it's fine by him!

Vil knew you liked to draw, sometimes he liked to stare at you wondering what you were drawing. Admiring your beauty as you moved your pencil along the paper, but you always seemed to shy away whenever he tried to take a look at your drawings.

One day, you were showing him a little doodle that you were proud of. Vil picked your sketchbook to see it upclose — and to also take his chance to finally see what you hid in those pages.

And when he saw… well you've never seen him smirk so brightly. Oh, stop feeding his already big ego please, how is it possible that someone with SO MUCH pride like him could get even worse? Well, you somehow did it!

'Oh, my~ Why would you try to hide this from me, darling? I don't think someone has ever drawn me the way you do. Hm..? Why would I not like it? Your art is beautiful, just like you.'

Oh… Self-shipping… Idia's guilty pleasure….

He acts like Oh No That's Cringe but deep down he's a shameless self-shipper. There's nothing he wanted more than his favorite character to tuck him in bed and give him a kiss on the forehead.

And actually… He felt like that for you for a long time– No, he does still feel that way!

He has a bit of experience drawing, so Idia actually drew a picture of you and him holding hands. But he blushed so hard he impulsively burnt it.

One day, after a long day of gaming, you were sleeping on his bed and he decided to stay up a bit more to get some levels. — it was late, almost 2 am. And Idia finally decided to join you for sleep.

But your sketchbook was laying on the table, earlier you showed him a doodle of one of your favorite characters and forgot to pick it.

It took everything from Idia to not open it and see what you hid in there, and even then it wasn't enough.

With the lights of the computer that slightly illuminated his room, he decided to take a peek through the pages.

At first it was just normal drawings and fanart, nothing weird — until he saw a drawing of him, which made him even more curious. He kept going until he saw a drawing of him kissing your cheek and Idia almost dropped your sketchbook.

He put it in your backpack and sat on his bed, muttering about something — Idia almost didn't notice when you woke up and called his name in a worried tone.

Idia was so incredibly happy and it made his heart almost combust but– gosh he will never tell you about it.

'Oh god how is my partner so good at drawing and why is it so cute why do I look so good in here does s/o think I look like this IRL ahhh I want to see it again but i shouldn't–'

Jamil, unlike the other two, does NOT understand fandom culture at all.

He has seen Idia once or twice muttering about idols or manga but he personally does not understand the obsession behind it. I can see him being the kind of guy to enjoy reading as a solitary hobby, but that's it.

That means, he doesn't know about shipping.

But Jamil knows you DO know about this stuff, and he'll let you info-dump about whatever you want.

He has seen you making fanart once or twice, and he really does love looking at your drawings!

But, every time he asks if he can see your whole sketchbook, you say no — and he doesn't understand why.

He lets you be… At first, since he likes his privacy a lot. But… Jamil can't help but feel a tiiiny bit curious.

His master plan to see what you hide is that whenever you show him some of your art, he'll ask you to search for another drawing you made before. In hopes that whatever you're hiding will appear "accidentally".

And wow… he wished he could tease you about it but… it's such a cute drawing of you hugging him and you both are smiling and the drawing is so good–

Oh gosh his ears are burning, and why are his cheeks so warm?

He doesn't know what to say, you broke him.

'A–Ah… No! I do… I do like it a lot– It's just… You should… If you want… I'd like to see more of this, if you'd like to show me. You're… really good at drawing.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[clairecrive]

hi! I just recently found your account and I've been spending all my time reading everything you've written, and I wanted to tell you that I absolutely adore your writing! it's so beautiful.

I also wanted to request a friends to lovers nikolai x reader fic (you don't have to make it friends to lovers if you don't want to!) something along the lines of this: they get seperated after the battle with the darkling at the end of siege and storm and reader has to go with alina but they finally reunite? and everyone is super smug because they knew it would happen.

sorry for such a long ask and no worries if you decide not to do it! I hope you're doing well!!

Fools, pistols blazing and shock

A/n: a promise is a promise and the second most requested fic was Nikolai and angst and so here it is! friends to lovers is not my favorite trope but I enjoyed writing this. I hope you will too x

Thank you so much for your beautiful words btw, they mean the world <3<3

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies , @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @subjecta13-thefangirl ,@gallysonegoodlung , @a-c-lee , @mriddlemethis , @carnationworld , @thanossexual , @luvxginger , @sanna2020 , @partiesandblurrypolaroids , @edithsvoice , @wafflesandschemingfaces , @snugleo , @sugarmelonwater , @dobwhore, @sassybadqueen , @anything-forourmoony, @snokoi, @imaginingimagines, @vintagebitc_,

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"So," he twirled around, "how do I look?" With a theatrical gesture, he stopped in front of you.

You looked at him, head to toe, before saying, "Like a fool I know."

He was imperturbable, by the smirk on his face one would think that you had paid him a compliment. "The answer was far simpler: handsome."

"You look like a prince," you conceded, " but so does your brother so take that as you will." And with that, you walked to your assigned post leaving a scandalized Nikolai behind.

The dinner went by smoothly even if you had to bear Vasily being his annoying self. So far so good. The important thing was that the people around the table were under no threat. The rest was bearable.

And no, it had nothing to do with Nikolai winking at you from time to time. Flirting was second nature to him and Alina's presence by his side was a cold reminder of how things were.

It took one look at her for your face to go as blank as Mal's on the other side of the room.

You had disconnected from the conversation at the table for a second, your attention going to the exit where a Grisha soldier had just walked in to talk to Zoya. If you had been paying attention to Nikolai, you would have known what to expect.

But you hadn't and so the next few seconds were pure chaos.

The unthinkable happened.

Black shadows filled the room, leaving no chance to the people they had appeared before. The Queen's scream brought your attention back to the table and consequently to the Vasily. Or rather, to what was left of him.

Beside him, the kind had crouched down to hide and was cowering behind the throne. The Queen clutched her son's body to her chest wailing and screaming. Then your eyes fell on him, standing tall in front of his parents shooting away.

You didn't know what you were going to do. You didn't think. You just acted and the next thing you knew, you were running towards him shooting fire at whatever tendrils of shadows you could see.

"Nikolai!"

In a moment, you reached his side, covering his back for every possible attack.

"You need to go," you urged him over the sounds of crying and shooting. A shot of light filled the room blinking you for a moment and panic shot through you at the possibility of Alina being hurt.

"Take your parents and Alina and go Nikolai. You can't stay here!" You insisted again, still back to back, unwilling to let anything happen to him. If he meant to argue you didn't know. You heard him speak but his words went unheard over the chaos in the room.

You turned around just in time to see one of those things trying to make their way to him. The tendrils of fire that shot through you slowed it down but it was only a shot of wind coming from a squaller that did the trick and sent it away.

Nodding in the squaller's direction you took Nikolai's shoulders and turned him towards the secret exit behind the throne.

"Stop playing hero and just go for Saint's sake!" Under normal circumstances, he was stronger than you. And well, he still was but too busy worrying about getting his family to safety and covering your back, he ended up succumbing to your shoves.

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you surely will! I'll make sure that Alina is safe," ushering him and his parents towards the exit, you didn't give him time to argue. Once they were through the door, you closed it behind them and melted the lock.

You allowed yourself only a moment to worry about him, to mourn him if things were to go downhill for you. Only a second for you to mourn the future that you knew you were never going to get with him.

Then it was over. Your heart locked away and your mind focused solely on the battle ahead. You needed to make sure that Alina was alive and get her to safety whilst also trying to save as many as you could along the way.

A piece of cake.

*+*+*+*+*+*

You knew that he had made it out of Os Alta alive. You had gotten word that he had arrived safe and sound to one of his hiding spots scattered around the country.

Alina and a group of other Grisha, including yourself, had managed to make it out alive out of the capital as well.

All was as well as it could be under these gloomy circumstances. And yet, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost.

Too many had fallen under the Darkling's wrath. Too many had given up their lives in honor of Ravka's freedom. Too many sacrifices for you all to be hiding in the tunnels like scared cats.

But you had a plan. You just needed to be in the same room as Alina, all of you at once, and you were going to make your way up.

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him again.

*+*+*+*+*+*

It turned out that you were right. It was a matter of time indeed before you saw Nikolai again.

As always, he couldn't help but make a grand entrance while praising his good looks. For once, your eyes didn't roll in mock annoyance. The joy of seeing him again, safe and sound while also saving your asses, prevailed.

And the moment his eyes met yours? Priceless.

Despite being in the middle of running away and fighting the first army's soldiers, you felt like there was only the two of you. Nothing mattered besides Nikolai, his stupid smirk that shone brighter than all the stars combined.

It turned out that that moment came with a price indeed. Your distraction paved the way for an almost fatal mistake.

Too lost in Nikolai's eyes and restraining yourself from throwing yourself at him, you didn't notice the soldier sneaking up behind him. Or well, you didn't until it was too late.

The movement caught your eyes, but the bastard had his pistol already drawn. You had the presence of the spirit of pushing Nikolai out of the way before a shot was fired.

Focusing on the bullet you tried all your might to melt it, but you knew it was a desperate attempt since you had noticed it too late. Trying and losing was better than not trying at all so trying you did.

However, what turned out to be life-saving was Nikolai's counterattack. While you exercised the small science, Nikolai quickly drew his own pistol and shoot at the soldier.

Time seemed to slow down as you stared in front of him, hands in the air while Nikolai moved behind you. Right before your brain registered that while you had indeed managed to burn the bullet, it was still coming your way at high speed, another object entered your field vision.

At that moment you didn't exactly decipher what had happened, you blinked and the bullet was not there anymore. However, your stupor was short-lived as other soldiers were coming your way after hearing the noise.

At that point, Nikolai tugged you away and towards his awaiting ship knowing that the soldiers would surely outnumber you.

It all happened in a blink. One moment you were on the ground hellbent on not dying, and the other you were up in the air.

That, combined with the stress of the last couple of weeks. exhaustion and dehydration put you in a state of shock. Resulting in you staring numbly ahead of you.

Then, when you felt a hand on your face, your brain started working again and your eyes slowly began to focus.

"Are you injured?"

Nikolai was moving your head left and right to check for wounds and after that, he moved down on your neck and vital points. But you weren't hurt.

"It's so typically you to swoop in and save the day in the most dramatic way possible that I shouldn't even be surprised."

Your sarcasm reassured him that you were fine more than the absence of physical wounds. Leaning back on his haunches, he gave you a lazy smirk. "You know me, always read to save damsels in distress."

You almost hated how handsome he looked in that moment but the fact that he basically had saved your life made it really hard for you to get mad at him.

"Not a damsel and not in distress but I appreciated your gesture," you fired back falling naturally into your usual easy banter. "Thank you, Kolya."

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I did it for a whole selfish reason." His features morphed into seriousness which was usually something he left for meetings or that kind of stuff. Seeing it now directed at you, seriously worried you.

"Since when does Nikolai Lanstov shy away from gratefulness and compliments?" You tried to jest but to no avail.

"I'm serious."

"Alright, so why did you do it? You have tons of other Grisha available."

"Because a world without you is not a world I want to live in."

Well, damn. Trust Nikolai to make you completely speechless.

"That must be the shock talking," you murmured still taken back by his words.

"I've almost lost you, y/n, I'm not going to waste any more time avoiding my feelings." Crossing his arms on his chest, Nikolai lightly shook his head. Damn, there was no smirk on his face, no twinkle in his eyes. He must be serious.

"I should be having an epiphany moment since I was the one who almost died," you protested.

"Feel free to declare your undying love for me then."

"Ass. Now I'm tempted not to do it just to prove you wrong," you glared at him but sighed knowing what you needed to do. "But, as much as it pains me, you're right."

Your eyes flickered between yours and the sheer intensity of them gave you enough confidence to bear your heart to him, "I do love you, you know."

"Well, let's be honest, who wouldn't. I'm amazing," with a careless shrug, Nikolai gestured to himself. Which, of course, made you glare at him.

"Joking, I take it back. You're insufferable." Your mock-annoyance did nothing but amuse him to no end. However untruthful they might be, Nikolai played along with your words. While also progressively leaning closer to you.

"Nope, can't do that love. You signed your destiny, you're mine." You would have retired, of course you would have, but the truth is, his lips were more interesting than any witty comeback ever could.

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[frauleindermorgen]

The days pass, and soon enough, Micaiah's birthday dawns upon them again. The nature of it coming around, to be able to say it has come again, is charming in itself to Pelleas. The fact he could say he has lived long to meet it again— this little note of mundanity to it that feels all the more cherishable for the man with a limited clock, to know that he has known her long enough to meet this marker not just once…

…It brings a delight that Pelleas cannot contain, and when he greets the morning of her birthday, he does so with a smile.

“ Happy birthday, Micaiah, ” he tells her, unable to hide such joy. “ To tell you that again… To tell you the truth, I'm ridiculously happy. Is that weird? It's probably weird. Haha… I'm sorry. I can't explain it very well, but the sound of it makes me giddy. I don't know how to handle it. ”

He laughs, the sound of it near imperceptible, something between excitement and contentment riding through him as he languishes in the face of it all. How frightening to experience a joy this large, so illogically so, but despite his confusion at it all, he tries to embrace it nonetheless.

“ Ah, but I suppose I should give you this before I forget. I saw it and thought of you right away, actually. ” To this, he takes out a simple, long vertical box wrapped with a yellow ribbon not unlike the one he had made and given her for her birthday the year before. The ribbon shimmers a bit in the light as he hands the gift box over. Contained within was a writing utensil made of ivory painted to look like the night sky and brass with fine detailing, evoking the imagery of bird wings. “ The trader in town called it a fountain pen. Fascinating, isn't it? It's so pretty, in my opinion at least, but it also writes! You put the ink inside and then twist and close the pen together, so you can carry it with you wherever you go and write whenever you need without carrying so many things or making a mess. No more quills! ”

It's that side of him that delights in sharing new discoveries and information with her that speaks brightly now, but he tempers his excitement a tad as he carries on.

“ I wanted to make sure this year I got you something you could use and that'd make your life more convenient. I'm not sure if I'd say you make my life more convenient, but I'd definitely say you've made it better, ” he babbles. “ I'm not sure who came up with the phrase 'Happy birthday,' but it's really what I feel. I'm so happy you were born… To think where I'd be if you weren't! I'm not sure I can imagine it. After all, you've saved my life, Micaiah. I mean it… ”

A pause settles as he reflects on everything they've been through to get to this point, and when he speaks up again, it is through a dreamy, tender state; words flow out from within him, little restraint to be had in each syllable.

“ …The thought that I'm able to tell you those words now. It doesn't feel real… but I hope I get the chance to see you and tell you this many more times. Every birthday of yours… I don't want to miss a single one from now on. For as long as you'll let me… ”

She’s on her way back from an early morning walk when Pelleas finds her, coming to meet him halfway as drawn to his smile as she is to the rising sun. It’s difficult to tell whether the jubilant feeling in the air is from Pelleas’s emotions, her own, or some mix but she is simply glad to be with him in the experience.

“I’m happy to hear it again,” she says simply, and thinks that if only for a moment like this she is glad she finally decided on a definitive date of birth.

She receives the box he gives her carefully, taking his excited expression and the continued explanations to mean she should open it, she does so, pocketing the ribbon for later. The utensil…the pen, rather, as Pelleas called it was too beautiful and intricate in make to keep in its package for long so she takes it out and marvels at both its form and Pelleas’s words both.

“It can write! Really?” Taken up in the excitement in the air her fingers itch to use it right away, but Pelleas has moved on before she can catch up and placing it back in the box carefully and listens.

You've saved my life Pelleas tells her and all Micaiah can think in the now seeing him so full of it - life, and spirit all his own - as beautiful as it was, how could she have ever chosen otherwise?

Of course, it had not been her actions alone; Pelleas too had chosen this – her and Daien, the chance to build a home neither of them had ever had. It was that gift most of all that meant the world to her.

“Keep telling me then,”Micaiah asks, putting the box carefully under one arm and taking Pelleass hand in her own, “until it feels real. You never need ask permission. Not from me.”

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Everything you never thought to ask and never wanted to know about my Josépan playlist/history with and opinions of the ship.

Intro:

The journey of this playlist has been a long one, starting on Amazon Music and my old, janky and now defunct Ipad.

STRAP IN, CHILDREN AS I TAKE YOU BACK TO A MAGICAL TIME WHEN NEITHER LEGENDS OF THE THREE CABALLEROS; NOR THEIR CAMEO IN DUCKTALES HAD BEEN ANNOUNCED YET, MY BLOG ON TUMBLR DIDN’T EXIST (THOUGH I WAS LURKING) AND PANCHITO WAS STILL THE LEAST POPULAR CABALLERO, otherwise known as around late 2017.

A word on the origins of the playlist:

The playlist was not initially Ducktales focused because the two didn’t exist in Ducktales yet. I was rather unenthusiastic back in the day about this ship (oh how the times change) but I had stumbled across a song that didn’t fit them and Donald but fit just them very well and wanted to make an animatic of it. So, I cobbled together some songs I thought fit the vibe and made a playlist.

The history behind the story that inspired it:

I’ll spare you from starting at the very beginning. But, when “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” premiered I was already thoroughly and utterly obsessed with the cabs; I remember how beyond ecstatic I was for the episode. My hype for the Ducktales versions of José and Panchito continued far beyond what seems to have been normal for the average cabs fan. I found myself drawn to the ideas put forth by those versions of them. I don’t really remember what the tipping point was for me to break down and make my own college AU but eventually I did. It was affectionately dubbed “The TV Show That Will Never Happen AU.” José and Panchito were enemies to lovers or at least to friends. And it was around that time I began to go CRAZY with the headcanons as I got more active in the fandom. While my ideas for the Ducktales versions of them grew and grew, so too did the time between them appearing in “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” and their alleged next appearance in the show. When fans noticed the distinct lack of José and Panchito in the season two finale of Ducktales, Francisco Angones, @//suspenderofdisbelief on Tumblr answered these two separate asks that I might have engraved on tombstone one day:

I was GONE for the ship after that. I developed another AU for them based around their time in Baia trying to get people to fund their attempts to become famous musicians. Also, slowly falling in love... It was affectionately titled “The Fan-Comic that Will Never Happen” but not yet connected to my college AU. I don’t have much of a timeline for it after this point, but with that AU I really hit my stride for interpretations of the two characters and their dynamic. The version of them I hold dear in my heart and headcanons came to be. Then “Louie’s Eleven” came out and absolutely destroyed a lot of my headcanons (just kidding, just kidding). Since the new canon material didn’t really jive with a lot of the wholesomeness I had built up I was left with a lot of something else: angst. I LOVE angst, but the two’s bitterness and arguing...It was hard to accept at the time. Me and @cartoon-lizard on Tumblr, my IRL best friend, wound up writing a Josépan fic fueled on a bit of that angst and by her grace, a lot of my headcanons. I titled it “My Reverie is Being Haunted by That Ass.” In it Panchito makes an ass (rimshot noises) of himself by running off with a producer he met by chance during a visit in Duckburg to try to become famous. And doing so without so much as a second thought to the person he’s been living with/sort of dating for over a year. It took me a while but eventually I figured it out. These weren’t three separate AUs, these were three separate pieces of the same AU. And so my masterpiece never meant to be made came to be: “The Trilogy: College/Baia/Reverie.”

“The Trilogy” Itself:

The story will never be written for a variety of reasons, personal and practical. But if it ever were to be written it would be three separate fics, aka: College, Baia and Reverie.

College encapsulates their college years (duh).

To set the stage:

Panchito: A friendly, arrogant and easily excitable musician with big dreams, good grades and a whole lot of anxiety and insecurity. He has complicated feelings towards his identity as both trans and pan and how that might affect his dreams of becoming famous, but is overall bright eyed and innocent enough.

José: A lazy (depressed), charming, pessimistic, tbh kind of a douche and deep in the closet gay man. He tends to push forward a very “Manly man” persona to make up for his own deep seated internalized homophobia brought on by a shitty upbringing. He just got away from said shitty upbringing and doesn’t really have any hopes for his future...Maybe to travel a bit?

José and Panchito start as enemies, both fearing losing their one real friend, Donald, to the other. Despite this the three start a band and the two’s rivalry becomes far more friendly. They get particularly close during the trip down to Acapulco for spring break where the general feeling of being disconnected from life and reality leads to several rather romantic moments between the two...They almost become a thing several times but never quite do. However, they are very good friends by the end of college. The three stay in contact for a while after college but eventually lose touch…

Baia timeskips forward 13 years later (I know it's only 10 canonically, I always say 13 for reasons) to a conversation between Panchito and José on the Sunchaser at the end of “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice.”

Panchito: Life hasn’t been kind to Panchito...His need to be famous, to be something in order to be someone has led him to push a lot of people out of his life so he can better focus on “Work.” Or drive them out by constantly asking for their support, financial or otherwise. He has no friends and even his relationships with his loving and supportive family are strained. Currently, he’s working freelance as a performer at childrens’ birthday parties (in his eyes: a clown) and goes home to a sad, empty apartment every night to stare at a notebook full of half written songs and muster enough energy to eat cereal for dinner for the third time in a row. Needless to say, his optimism is wearing thin.

José: A lot of hard work on his part, some good therapy and mmm; drugs have put him in a pretty good place. He’s more or less got his life together now, is way less of a douche and is more of a realist than a pessimist. He’s also pretty much completely comfortable in his identity as a gay man. He’s been trying to explore romantic relationships, but unfortunately (likely due to the loveless marriage between his parents making him strive so hard to believe that love is real that he puts the unrealistic goal of true love above all else) feels incomplete without one and double unfortunately has a tendency to be drawn to toxicity and abusive situations. So other than a string of (short lived) bad relationships, he’s actually doing great!

Panchito has already asked Donald to drop everything and stay with him down in Baia to try to get funding for the band. Donald said no. José has a steady job, a decent apartment and a supportive friend group back home. He's also long since lost interest and hope in their college dreams of being famous...José says yes. The two have a bunch of wild and wacky shenanigans trying to get funding and both dance around their growing feelings for each other until it explodes and overwhelms them. They rush into a romantic relationship head first with no real ground for it to be built on and unrealistic expectations of what the other can give them. Despite all this, things seem quite happy...for a while…

If you've made it this far, <3, CONT. in pt 2.

[etlunainmorte]

The Sick Rose ( V X Reader )

~ A request by a lovely friend from Twitter about a Modern College AU V helping a dear underclassman reader with her assignment. I hope you like it.

***

There. He saw her sitting on her own again on that old bench next to that tree.

And this time, she's reading something. Seemed like an old book.

She never noticed or suspected anything. Or maybe he was just too careful not to be noticed. But, whatever the case was, V would always see her sitting there, alone, and minding her own business. And she would never notice anything else while she's preoccupied in that tiny, private bubble of hers.

Normally, V would be minding his own business, as well. Either going to his next class alone while streaming Paganini or Debussy on his phone for his ears only, or listening to his best friends, Nero and Nico, talk about their favorite games and movies on their way back to their dorms. V has always been preoccupied with something else to notice anything.

Until this freshman, that is.

It began just a little over a week ago. And it was during one of those rare occasions where some seniors would get the opportunity to observe the junior literary classes. Or sometimes, take over as "assistant professors" for these underclassmen for a while.

During that time, the poor professor had to go to the clinic due to a very unsavory reason he opted not to disclose, and kindly asked V to take over for the meantime. He was teaching the comedic works of William Shakespeare.

While most of the students were clearly bored out of their own wits ( some were extremely interested for reasons V chose not to overthink about ), he noticed one person who looked genuinely interested in the topic.

That girl from the last row.

V noticed how she listened to every explanation and every word he said. Every so often, he would see her nod as she took some notes. And one time even, she tried to raise a hand to ask him something but, she somehow withdrew at the last moment. V honestly wondered why, because he would've gladly answered any questions she would ask.

The next day, V noticed her sitting on that bench with her headphones on while doodling something on her tablet. He tried to get her attention but, he chose not to since he didn't want to bother her, or anything. And the day after that, on that very same spot he saw her writing something on a journal, still with her headphones on. Either way, ever since that impromptu Shakespeare lecture, V found himself somehow a bit drawn to her and her sunny, and yet curious vibes. He would be lying if he told himself that was not the case.

It all began just a little over a week ago, and she didn't even notice him looking at her, not even once.

However this time, V noticed there was something off about her. Like something changed in that light - hearted disposition of hers that always drew him in. He tried to pinpoint what exactly, and after a short while, he noticed her intense facial expression as she poured all of her focus on that old book she most probably borrowed from the library. There was something a bit tense in the way she flipped those pages, the little trembling of those fingers as they moved, and the way she curled her lips as they slightly opened and closed when she read.

And most importantly, it looked like she needed some help. An urgent one.

Excusing himself from his two best friends, he composed himself and went towards her. Brushing an almost invisible crumb off his crisp white shirt, he cleared his throat and thanked the Gods above that he somehow remembered her name.

"Miss (L/N)?" He awkwardly began. Then, seeing that she didn't hear him, he spoke once more. "Miss (L/N)?"

Oh, the way her eyes widened when she finally noticed! The way that mouth of hers dropped and the way she almost lost her composure the moment their eyes met.

It's as if the girl didn't really expect that he would casually approach her like this.

And honestly? It kind of made V's heart jump. But only a little bit. He really wanted to help her, so he tried his very best not to get swept off by his own emotions and focused on the problem ahead.

"Mr. Sparda!" She stuttered, scrambling on her feet. "I d - didn't expect you to - "

"Please, no need to worry." V reassured her as calmly as he could. The girl remembered his name as well, and his traitorous heart did more than just jump this time around.

Relax, V. Relax. He thought. You're here to help an underclassman.

"You seem to be,... ahh,... having a little difficulty on that,... book of yours." V went on, in a voice he hoped was calm enough. "Would you indulge this fool and let him help you with whatever you need?"

There. He said it. Did he sound too strange? Was he too forward? Did he sound creepy? She did look like a meteor has just crash landed in front of her.

But, whatever the case was, there's no turning back now.

"Umm," She began as she handed V the old book.

And by Jove! V almost flipped when he realized what it was! It was none other than Blake, himself! His favorite poet!

"I quite don't understand William Blake." The girl went on. "His words are simple and yet, when I try to explain them, or make sense of them, ahh,... I don't know! The words just avoid me." She collapsed on the bench and sighed as she massaged her temples. The works of Blake seemed to give her such headaches.

Sitting right next to her, he asked, "What do you find difficult about Blake's work?"

"You see, about this rose thing." She said, leaning slightly closer to him as she pointed at some words on the book on his hands.

Her hair smelled nice,...

No, V! Focus!

"I don't know if it's talking about an actual plant, or something that is actually sick,... "

"Love."

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh! I mean,... " And for a moment there, V felt his sweat run cold the moment he uttered that word.

And the girl? She seemed to tense when she heard the very word.

Like he somehow hit a deep chord within her.

"The Sick Rose is about love."

"Love?" She repeated. "You mean, a��sick kind of love?"

"Well, yes." V said with a knowing smile on his face. "You know the saying love is blind? Most of the times, love prevents you from seeing the whole truth. Thus, the invisible worm."

"And the crimson joy?" There. Those glistening eyes of hers as she hang onto his every word,...

"The crimson joy means deep, dark love. The kind of love that destroys the purity and innocence of the rose."

"I,... see,... " The girl uttered, more to herself than to V.

Seeing that she's still not somehow convinced, he explained further. "You know when you love someone too much to the point of blindness, it destroys not only the person but yourself, as well. The true meaning of your feelings would be replaced with that of obsession, of selfishness. Of destruction and corruption. Of wanting this person only to yourself and no one else's. You keep this person enclosed deeply inside your own affections until the purity and innocence of their own feelings towards you die. And sometimes, this sickness grows too large, it affects other people as well. And that is the death of true love, as we know it."

The girl pondered for a while, thinking about everything V has just told her. Then, after a while, she shook her head as she grinned and chuckled to herself. And V found this quite amusing.

"Yeah, like," She said in a low voice, like a penitent confessing her sins before a priest. "You're loving someone too much, you fail to notice how destructive it has become to them and to yourself. The invisible worm. I get it now." She faced V once more, and with a bright smile, she said, "I guess I don't want to write an analysis on The Sick Rose, after all!"

This made V's eyes wide with both shock and surprise. "Oh, that's,... I see! Well, you - "

"But, thank you so much for your help, Mr. Sparda. It truly feels like you've taken a peek inside my deepest and darkest secrets."

"Pardon - ?"

"Can you help me choose a different Blake poem, instead? Something that feels lighter and brighter?" And just like that, after having a small glimpse of her own precious thoughts, V felt that she closed her doors on his face once more. Of course, there was something more about this girl, something that made him see a different color about her. Something,... intense for a change, that clashed with that sunny vibe she often showed to most people. And to him.

And it made her even more interesting to V.

This mysterious girl,...

... he has to know more about her.

"What about The Cradle Song?" V offered as he gestured towards her headphones that he saw peeking from her school bag. "We can listen to the actual song instead of me explaining it."

The girl smiled and she nodded, accepting the offer. "Sounds good to me."

It was safe to say that V and the girl has established some sort of solid connection between the two of them after listening to that song. Afterwards, she even recommended him one of her favorites, a song called Honesty by someone who wears pink and sweats a lot. At least in V's understanding of that particular band's name. Nevertheless, V enjoyed that one, and more other songs she recommended whenever they get the chance to see each other, whether to study, read books, or to just hang out.

As friends? Maybe yes. Maybe not. Who could say?

All V knew was that he was glad he approached her that day when she needed help with that Blake poem analysis. And those conflicting feelings she chose not to reveal at first.

***

[julies-butterflies]

Honestly, your writing reminds me a lot of the buffyverse. Just the perfect balance of humor and sadness and romance and heart that just feels like a vivid window into the world you've created.

God the Body...the best forty minutes of television I may never watch again. I've rewatched Willow and Tara's kiss (because I'll adore them forever), but just...the weight of it. It took me a full month to work up the nerve to watch the episode, to be ready to cry that much.

What you said about not wanting people to suffer, because of your work...It's never once felt like that for me. And I've cried a LOT while reading your work. I'll try to explain it the best I can

Grief can be so isolating, and disorienting. Your world goes topsey-turvey, supports you took for granted go flying into the abyss and suddenly it's a minefield of those glass shards. And no one's grief is identical. No two circumstances are the same. It's not possible for anyone else to know exactly how you feel, because no two hearts break alike.

Sometimes, it's because people just don't understand. Sometime's it's because they no longer want to. But some days, that feeling of aloneness can be crushing.

Then one night, I stumbled upon Let These Shadows Fall Away Like Dust. That one hit me way harder than I was ever expecting. The question of how to grieve the living, the dilemma on when forgiveness is deserved...Alex's anger, his devestation, the rawness of it all....That's my broken glass. Those are concepts I've been struggling for over a year. I'm still picking up pieces every day.

I sobbed, because it was such a relief. To see the feelings that had been scrambled up in my mind just reflected there, on my screen. The reminder I had desperately needed, that I was not alone. That even though my circumstances were different, I was not the only one trying to unravel those messy emotions.

Then again, I also read your deathfic for fun, so maybe I'm not the best judge of this. I tend to like angst. I tend to get a lot of "WHY WOULD YOU MAKE IT THAT SAD" in group chats :D

Please don't feel any pressure to respond to me quickly or anything. I never mind the wait. I'm so sorry for the rough times. Wishing that you and your family gets whatever you need to help ease your storm. Sending love and support as well.

(sorry for all the metaphors. I'm super sleepy and apparently, I resort to purple prose when tired lol)

I know exactly what you mean about Emily. I understand why people don't like her, but I just love to see her written as such a grey character. It's just so much more powerful when the love is so clearly there.

I mean, that's what a tragedy is, really. Love cut short. Grieving a future that could have been everything, if fate had not been cruel. I don't know if you know musical theater, but I like to think about the Barber and His Wife, from Sweeney Todd: the whole tragedy of that show, is that they were happy all together, and then permanently broken. How their paths keep crossing, but they never connect to heal. Never lost, but never found.

And that's the tragedy of Luke and Emily: too stubborn and too late. You find that grey area, the messiness so well, and just bring it all out so wonderfully. You do the same with Bobby/Trevor, ESPECIALLY in the horror and the wild. God, that absolutely devestated me. I'm not a big fan of horror in general, and I haven't explored the genre that much but...if all horror is like yours then DAMN, I might just have to become a fan.

This got super long (lol) so I'll wrap it up now but! THE SIC FIC QUEENS TOGETHER???? When I tell you I lost it.... all too well Bobby and what you've lost reggie in the same story are killing me. I am hooked and incredibly hyped. Loved both updates so far, and cannot wait to see where the story goes!

Oh yeah and I forget: I have to ask, do you have a fan cast of the one, the only, the incredible Keith Richards? (and that goblin is so cute!!! I really want to pet the blood thirsty monster. So badly)

Love, your totally-not-undead-pen-pal, :D

-Vampire Anon

Know musicals? Vampire Anon my beloved, I am a musical theatre bitch. Take a look at my high school graduation cap! (Anastasia is my favorite musical... something about the themes of home, love, and family, the idea of always finding a place in the world even after enduring incredible hardship, that anything is survivable with faith and love in your heart... I'm also a Romanov history bitch, and Christy Altomare is such an incredible talent and human being.) Literally, talk to me about musicals anytime!

And yeah, I definitely see your metaphor... the tragedy of The Barber and his Wife was how close they came to each other throughout the whole show, existing within reach the entire time, after being separated for so long. But it wasn't the same; it never could be. Time and trauma had changed them both into something unrecognizeable, and when they came face-to-face, they could only hurt each other. At a certain point, the ghosts of your past are meant to stay ghosts. Sure, you might want them back more than anything --- but what would it mean? What would you truly be getting back?

Luke's "back", of course, and he comes home to visit his parents multiple times... but they're not the same people he left. They're older, greyer, changed by grief... while he's just the same. A snapshot forever frozen in time, a memory crystalized in amber. You can't hold memories in your hands. You can't pull them close and refuse to let them go. Eventually, they'll slip away... and to Mitch and Emily, a memory is all their son is, now. That's what's so heartrending about the situation we see in the show, especially --- so much love still exists between all of them, but it has no place to go.

Okay, sorry, it's 3am here and I'm rambling too, haha --- mentioning musical theatre was a mistake.

I'm so glad my stories have been able to connect with you, especially 'shadows' --- that one resonated with a lot of people, more than I ever realized it would. It's not the most personal story to me... but definitely one that needed to be told, and the emotion in it... hits home for a lot of people. It means so much to me knowing that story, and Alex's internal struggle, has made people feel less alone.

I think I'm going to have a hard time looking back on that one, though. We were staying at my aunt's house for the weekend where I wrote most of it; I read a few excerpts to her, and she said she liked it. She was always interested in my writing... I kind of wish I'd gotten the chance to share more of it with her.

Like you said. Grief's a funny thing. Disorienting, relentless, and crushing.

Please just remember, though --- whatever you're dealing with, you're not alone. You don't have to cut yourself on those broken pieces... one day, you'll wake up, and realize you feel whole again. It will never feel the same, and the pain will always be there... but healing around it is what makes us stronger. You don't owe anyone your forgiveness; it's okay to grieve when you've lost something, regardless of whether death has taken them from you. Grief doesn't have to be earned, it simply has to be felt.

You'll be stronger for it, in the end. I'm sorry you've been hurting so much.

Anyways! Oh gosh! On to lighter, happier topics! Please tell me...

What are your favorite fics? (Like, my fics, obviously, which fics of mine do you just go gaga over? Please praise me or else my ego will shrivel like a worm on hot pavement.) No, okay, I'm kidding --- what are your top fics for this fandom? Like, what are the ones that really resonate with you, that you could read over and over? The JATP fandom has so many greats, but I'm always drawn back to Some Killer Queen You Are by pearlcaddy (buffyverse meets jatp!! iconic!!), Lantern's Light by thefairhero (literally the SOFTEST reggie), the sky's not empty tonight by firefall (just... devastating and beautiful in a dozen ways), and literally anything by foundfamilyvevo.

How long have you been in the JATP fandom? Who are your favorite characters? What's your favorite JATP song?

And finally, most importantly... what are your favorite musicals?

(also... since u asked... behold keith richards and tremble)

[dabis-devil]

Nothing Breaks Like a Heart. დ

-; ♡.° [ A/N: ] ୭̥ Okay so this idea just popped into my head and I couldn't not write it. This is my first fic and I really hope it doesn't blow over, let's hope for the best, loves! If Dabi ain't Touya, I'm gonna be a real fool, huh?

-; ♡.° [ Warnings: ] ୭̥ Gn!reader, Swearing, Suggestive content, sO mUcH aNgsT

-; ♡.° [ Summary: ] ୭̥ Everybody knows the infamous villian Dabi, his name spreads fear across the streets of Japan. Many would hate to admit it, but he wasn't always cold and alienated. It all bubbles down to one girl, who left his heart in shambles.

-; ♡.° [ Tag list: ] ୭̥ birthday girl! @queensynderella (👾 here)

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

It was a brisk Friday night, cool air hitting Touya's pale skin. Bandages clothed his forearms, which seemed to be more burnt every time the redhead came to see y/n. These burns inflicted by his quirk hadn't yet damaged his skin to the point of no repair, but it most definitely wasn't perfect. His large hands fumbled with the clasp of the gate to his home, Touya found himself sneaking out to see y/n more often than not. Enji claimed he was hitting the rebellious stage of his adolescence, little did he know that this would become his son's day to day life.

Against his better judgement, Touya was nineteen and still living at home. He had no where else to go, and he had siblings to rescue from their nightmare of a father. He desperately wanted to take shouto from the unfair wrath of their old man, but he was unable to do so. Instead, he would sweep his brother up into a tight hug whenever he mustered the chance. That poor kid, getting tossed around and neglected. His heart went out to young Shouto.

Touya’s figure was clothed in a baggy black tank top with black jeans and a dark zip up hoodie paired with a pair of black boots (you can @ me on this, he was edgy before dabi became dabi). He had his signature nose studs and additional ear piercings at his time too. He was working on getting a job of his own, something to get him money and fast. After that he would move out, hopefully taking his siblings with him.

As of now, y/n is the only rabbit hole he has. The only escape from his everyday terrors. That's why he was walking alone on the streets around twelve a.m., counting down the very minutes until he could reach their address. The lit cigarette hanging from his lip left a trail of smoke in its midst, that could barely be seen even with the midnight glow. His steps were shallow and speedy, hellbent on getting over to y/n’s place. Seeing that beautiful face every night is what brought him joy, and made carrying on each morning that much easier.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

Y/n was sprawled across their bed, carefree and unalert. Like most teens, they wouldn't go to sleep early. They had training tomorrow with the rest of class 4-A, but couldn't sleep. Not with the thoughts pooled in their head, that they sat to contemplate and overthink. Y/n grew distant to their dear boyfriend, Touya, and the guilt weighed a ton. Though the weight of what news you planned to share with him tonight is a million times heavier.

Y/n’s (e/c) eyes we're glued to their phone screen, set on a picture they had taken with Touya a few short weeks ago. A single tear rolled down their rosy cheeks. ' This is gonna break him. ' they thought. Y/n was pulled away from their thoughts when the glass window beside the desk gently rattled, a certain troubled redhead struggling to crawl through their window sill. Y/n frantically wiped their face before he got the opportunity to see a pinch of sadness in their expression- at least a pinch they didn't want him to notice. “ hey baby. . ” they smiled half heartedly, slipping from their cozy bedframe.

“ hey, princess, ” He smiled geekily. As Touya dusted off his jacket from the greenery and gunk that plagued the material, they pressed their plush lips to his. Truth be told they clung to him for a bit too long that night. In all fairness, this would be the last kiss they got from him.

As much as it pained y/n to do this, Touya Todoroki was bad for them.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

A little while later, the night had taken y/n. Touya laid with his arms tightly wrapped around their frame, their head atop his clothed chest. He had been falling in and out of sleep as the television played a series- one of their favorites. Y/n on the other hand, couldn't get a wink of rest. Instead, their eyes burned with the sensation to hold back tears. Finally, one spilled over their eyelid. They scrambled to wipe the droplet of moisture away before it soaked through his shirt, not only failing but drawing extra attention to theirself. Touya’s turquoise eyes fluttered open, immediately drawn to y/n. He sat up, in turn pulling them up with him. The fingers of his right hand ended up under their chin, magnetizing his gaze to their own. “ doll, what's wrong? ” he cooed, eyebrows knitted at y/n’s profound sadness.

Y/n did everything in their power to keep their eyes peeled, the only working strategy was simply squeezing them shut. Y/n could no longer hold back the water works, the fluid boiled over and rolled down their pained face. Y/n didn't need eyes to see Touya’s small frown, they could feel it. “ T-Touya. . . ” their breath hitched in the back of their throat. “ we need to talk. ” Y/n’s voice was shakey, and this whole scene was quite frankly uncomfortable considering how out of touch Touya is with his emotions.

Y/n felt Touya stiffen underneath them, and opened their eyes to catch him staring. Turquoise eyes half lidded as usual. He is obviously concerned, one masculine hand rubbing circles into y/n’s back. He kept quiet, giving them the time they need to spit out their burden. “ I. . I can't do this anymore. I can't watch you kill yourself. ”

In more ways than one, Touya had proven destructive. Not only that, but he didn't care. The redheads loving embrace faded, instead it just seemed like a stranger was holding them close. Y/n didn't want to imagine how this made him feel, even worse about how he would pretend to feel. “ I- what? Whad’ya mean? ” Touya scrunched his nose in confusion. “ my quirk? ” the male asked. Sadly he missed the point, and this wouldn't be as simple as they hoped. Maybe he didn't want to accept the truth so soon.

Y/n’s shakey palm met the side of his face, sweeping along his sharp jaw. “ you get high all the time, you don't trust me, you've been so distant these last few weeks. . And when I try to check on you, I get shut down. ” a steady stream of tears now rolled down their cheek. “ I've been thinking about it for a while, Touya. . ” y/n’s choked up sobs filled the room, his silence wavering in their mind. Touya was trying to make sense of the situation, or come up with false feelings. It stung to know that he felt his emotions are invalid. “ I'm so sorry, I just. . I can't baby. ”

Touya was a sitting statue on your bed, his turquoise orbs glued to the sheets. The things you two have done. . The memories. . The plans for the future. . All swirling down the drain. “ I can stop. ” his voice distantly aching with sorrow. his head swiveled towards y/n, giving them all the attention he could. The poor boy was loosing it, just at the possibility of losing the one person that mattered most to him. His anchor

“ I've already tried to get you help. You wouldn't take it. ” y/n frowned softly. “ I can't believe that again. . ” though the last thing they wanted right now was to separate themselves from Touya in his time of need, it was far too much to bare. After all, you can't help someone that doesn't want to be helped.

Y/n slowly wiggled out of the redhead's embrace, instead sitting across from him and holding one bandaged hand within their own. Y/n was begging for him to say something, to say anything. Instead, they would gaze at a shell of what used to be Touya.

“ y/n, please- ” the scarred teen pleaded. His expression was something in a sea of despair, yet he couldn't quite express that. He couldn't cry. All he could do was sit across from y/n and hope they could forgive him, hope that he could fix his issues. His chest was heavy, each rise and fall more tense than the last. “ I'm sorry. . Let me fix this. Please. . ? ” frantic words jumbled, something that made y/n pull him into their arms, and rest his head in the crook of their neck. Droplets of clear water fell down their face, seeing him like this was unbearable. It had to be done.

Fingers combed through the boys spiky red hair, his rapid breathing slowed to a calm. Y/n pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “ I love you, but I can't do this anymore. ” their soft whispers were almost tranquil to Touya, despite the underlining meaning. This voice he cherished each night, he just had to hear it a bit more before he made his exit. “ don't forget that, okay? If you're better in the future, maybe we could try this again. ” they reassured, petting his silky locks.

Touya pulled away, head still hung. “ This is. . This is what you want? ” He looked upwards, turquoise orbs burning into y/n’s, hoping for the answer he expected to be wrong.

“ yeah, ” y/n answered under their breath, breaking the precious concentration on his beautiful eyes.

Touya rose from the bed, reaching for his leather jacket and pulling on his boots. Shortly after, heading for the window. The silence was more than just that, it was the lack of an idea on what to do here. Y/n decided to stand up as well, arms crossed over their chest. “ I- uh- ” he cleared his throat, tugging open the window. “ I'll see you around then. ” he managed to catch a last glimpse of the love of his life, before feeding his slim body out of the window. Tears fell from y/n’s face to the floor beneath them. As much as their fragile heart hurt right now, things would get better. It had to.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

The second Touya’s boots hit the leaves beneath him, one foot sprung in front of the other. He found himself running away from y/n’s home, almost as if his life depended on it. He could barely walk, his head was spinning, chest was tight, and his dressed wounds began to ache. Yet his feet carried him away. He didn't want to go home, the thought of going back with no escape made his skin crawl. The moon above lit the teens path as he aimlessly ran.

The time escaped him, as he wound up on the bad side of town. Rumored to be crooks and thieves around every street corner, and worse beyond that. Fresh out of breath, Touya placed his hands on a wall to catch himself, knees buckling underneath the weight. He slid down the brick wall in the dimmed alleyway, scooping his knees up to his chest. He was alone, a bit scared, and heartbroken. His eyes fell shut, and his head rolled onto his knees. Before he knew it, Touya had passed out, with one thing on his mind: y/n.

[hughiecampbelle]

Edges (John Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: John

Word Count: 992

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomrecs @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87

A/N: I'm not even really sure what this is? Ya gurl had a bad day after a few good days, and it kinda feels like slipping? If that makes sense? Like one step forward, two steps back.... Writing always makes me feel better though, so I did just that. I wasn't going to include the tag list, but I always feel bad not including it. I completely understand if you don't read this :) This is also my 200th fic which is absolutely insane and the start of a third part to the fic masterlist! I promise my next one will be a real story with actual plot, and something I can really be proud of, but for now it's just for therapy. If you do decide to read it, feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜💖💜💖💜

Gif Credit: @deeptheon :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The realization seeps into your skin, and the sudden urge to run takes over. It's desperate, animalistic, feral. The whining, the crying, the pleading without words. There's nothing left to say, nothing left to prove your innocence, explain the things bubbling beneath your skull. A language barrier between you. Screams falling on deaf ears. Instead, there is only sound. Incoherent. Scared. Inconsolable. It's angry. Red. Sharp. But it is never weak. The crushing weight on your body, splintering bones, bursting blood vessels: the world will never be big enough. The skin you've scrubbed one too many times, shrunken, tight, will never be something you can escape from. The house, with its patchwork walls, it's sharp corners nicking your flesh, taking too much of you, will always be suffocating. There is takes chunks, leaving you full of holes, maybe even holy. It makes everything so hard to feel, and yet the only thing you wish is to feel nothing at all. This life chosen by others for nothing but selfish reasons. Something so full of expectations, of sorrow, so full of dread.

So full of so much.

You're sure, though, if someone cut you right down the middle, there would be nothing.

You were always looking. He could see that better than anyone else, not that he had to pay close attention. Your eyes wandered effortlessly, mindlessly, searching for something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to see. Drawn away from the rest of the world. The edge of the Earth. Somewhere to step off. Fall into. You weren't sure what to expect, only that it would be boundless. Weightless. Infinite. No time to think, to question, to turn around and change your mind. Eyes closed. One step. It was all you wanted, to be where the edge of the universe slept. To sink beside it, tuck yourself in, and never wake up again. Melt. Liquefy. A chance to be beautiful for the very first time.

It was hard to describe. Everything was these days.

Still, he wished when he looked at you, he found you, he was seeing you, and not all the things you were in search of.

Too many wishes, too few stars. You went in search for little pieces of the universe, placebos, trying to get the closest you could to that eventual feeling. Holding your breath in the tub, unable to hear his banging on the door, his voice unfamiliar. Full of panic. Bursting through the soapy waters, the doorway, panting, clawing at the air, your lungs burning. The numb, the difference, the gate between you and the world, that's what it was. Sleepy eyes, a mouthful of yawns, urging you inside, to bed, before the storm got any worse. The thunder spoke, leading you to the edge, down a trail with no end, leaving breadcrumbs. The lightning igniting something in your bones, rattling you to your core with excitement, with a buzz unlike anything else. Finally, something you understood. Whispers carried by the wind through stringy twigs and sturdy tree trunks. Tripping over yourself, over rocks and roots, escaping the path. He followed after you, trying not to trip, to fall in a hole and never find his way out. He wished, for one second, when he took his eyes off you, he'd find you right where he left you. You wished he would open his mind.

Some days it was easier to ignore. The words, the whispers, the impulse to follow it. You couldn't take off, not like that, not whenever you wanted. The itch wouldn't feel so deep, so ingrown. The weight easier to carry, to drag around behind you like your own shadow. Play pretend. Paint a smile on your face. Slip out of bed, convince yourself the day would be good, kind, gentle. That you would do all the things you neglected to do. Make the bed. Wash the dishes. Face the day. Sit at the table, keep your head down, focus on all the things the rest of the world called important, priority. Be responsible. Check off all the boxes. You never lasted long, though. The tedious tasks of the mundane made it hurt even more. It made your gums bleed, your teeth rot, your head pound. It was excruciating. It made life feel too short, too small, yours, specifically, too insignificant. As much as he wanted things to be okay, to play pretend in a toy house, to live a life as bleak and beige as the wallpaper, it pained him to see you hold yourself down, knuckles white, choking on every sob and laugh. He could talk himself into loving that, but it would leave nothing but scars.

One day he'd get a call. He knew, he was expecting it. In the middle of the night, in the office, at the bar where whiskey stirred in his gut. It would happen one day. Someone without a name would tell him you did it, you finally did it: you found the edge of the universe. John realized a long time ago you never belonged to him. You were not his to hold, to keep, to lock away. You weren't his, but the stars. Too many parts of you made of stardust and soil, ocean waves and desert sand. You were the places and experiences he could only imagine. You were war and famine, death and conquest, wrath and pride. You were the unfamiliar, and nostalgia. Mother Nature kissed your cheeks, she put you together personally. Whatever you were looking for, whatever you chose to follow, you'd find it one day, because it wanted you to. He saw you for who and what you were, he heard the voices, pleading, begging, so sweet in your ear. As much as he wanted to follow you there, to the end, he knew it wasn't his place. An act like that would only hold you back.

Until then, he could only ever trail behind.

[hakuoki-dreams]

Hello, how are you? I think your blog is amazing and the dedication you put in each ask is lovely. Could I ask baka trio headcanons when their crush flirt with them in joke? I hope you've a nice day!

Oh wow thank you!! I’m great, how are you anon? This prompt is so adorable omg 😭 I’m getting back into writing fics after a long hiatus and honestly having requests to answer is very helpful because I need a lot of practice writing the Hakuouki crew. So thank you for sending this!

With these I’m assuming it’s a reciprocated crush, or that there’s at least some level of interest on both sides. (These also turned into another set of f/m headcanons–I’ll try to keep things more inclusive in the future!) Get ready for a text wall let’s gooooo

Shinpachi

You would totally knock him off his game!

Shin is definitely no stranger to women thanks to the red-light district. In front of you he always insists that he just goes to have a few drinks and let off some steam after a long day, but he’s also spent a good amount of time flirting with and being flirted at by geisha and oiran. It’s the sort of female attention he’s comfortable with, because there’s this mutual understanding on both sides that it’s all a pleasant business interaction.

But you’re a different story. Flirting coming from you just feels…weird. You’re his friend.

Well…

If he’s honest with himself, he’s started having some feelings for you that go deeper than friendship. But that’s not a reality he’s not remotely ready to confront, because he’s not sure you feel the same way about him.

Because shit, what if you’re not even trying to flirt with him at all? As far as he knows you haven’t had a really serious relationship before. Maybe you don’t realize what you’re doing. Maybe you don’t know how a guy takes it when a girl teases him for showing off his (albeit very nice) muscles, or accidentally brushes arms with him too often, or laughs at even his dumbest jokes. Maybe it’s all just your way of kidding around with a guy you only see as a friend. It sends his mind traveling around in circles. Shin has trouble thinking straight with you.

In the beginning it all started as good fun between two friends. From day one Shinpachi was someone you just felt comfortable around. He was honest, he spoke his mind, and he didn’t really have a filter with you. It was refreshing; the other men seemed to watch what they said around you a bit because you were a girl. Not Shin.

This did cause some awkward moments at first. You’d notice him double-taking at a pretty face walking past, then he’d realize you caught him and feel compelled to apologize to you for some reason, and you couldn’t help laughing at the sheepish way he scrubbed at his hair when he got embarrassed.

After a couple repetitions of this he finally started loosening up–it even became a type of I-Spy game you’d play together during walks through the city.

‘Ooh…cute maiko coming up on the right…’ You tip him off. Watching the sly way he glanced the girl over was like witnessing a master practice his finest craft. He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Eh, bit thin.’

The first time you responded in kind about a handsome young samurai, you’d think you shattered his entire world to pieces. ‘What? What’s with the face? Girls notice too, you know.’

He’s still staring at the man warily, as if he was a sudden threat. ‘I guess.’

‘Though he is a bit thin…’ You repeat his words without thinking. For a second you both catch each other’s eye, then break away in awkward laughter, the mood between you suddenly shy.

Day by day something shifts in the way he acts around you. Where at first he had no qualms giving back a brash retort when you teased him about his taste in women, now he seems especially chagrined by it. There’s something so gratifying about seeing him ruffle at your playful prodding, this big lug of a guy who used to share all kinds of details about his preferences for everything from women’s hair color to their shoe size.

It’s a little bit…no, it’s very adorable. You find yourself drawn to him more and more because of those moments, and for some unknown reason it makes you want to find small excuses to touch him. You prod him with an elbow, or give him little knocks with your shoulder, trying to let him know that it’s all in good fun.

Eventually Shinpachi will reach a breaking point with you. He’ll realize his fear of misunderstanding your relationship has been eclipsed by the need to know just what the hell is going on between you two, and why you keep picking on him in a way he doesn’t feel equipped to deal with anymore.

‘Come on, Shin…you can tell me! Who’s your type, anyway? I know you how much you love Kyoto women, but there’s so many kinds to choose from. Is it short girls? Tall girls? Blonde girls? What type do you really–’

He wheels around on you. ‘You, okay?!’

You blink up at him, suddenly feeling very small faced with his broad frame. ‘…Me what?’

‘My type is someone like you, all right? It’s you. You’re my type.’

There’s a tinge of pink across his cheeks, but he’s looking down at you with a pure and serious determination that makes your insides feel very warm.

‘Oh…’

Sanosuke:

To be honest Sano never thought he could have a thing for such a spirited woman. He tends to go for the sweet type, so realizing he has feelings for a woman who acts so playful around him would be kind of a new experience.

The truth is he’s very direct and open about his emotions. If he’s crushing on you, you’re going to know, and he’s not going to feel an ounce of embarrassment about something so natural as caring for someone. The fact that you’re actually flirting back without hesitation will be unexpected, even if for you it’s a bit of a smokescreen. It flips the script on him.

Inside? He makes you very nervous. Maybe even terrified. He’s just so full of confidence all the time, about everything. He says and does things that knock the wind straight out of you–like telling you that you look pretty when you laugh, or reaching over to calmly brush a stray leaf out of your hair with that warm smile. You realize you can either melt into an incoherent puddle every time he’s around, or you can find a defense mechanism, fast.

So you start evading the intensity of his attention with humor. It’s supposed to lighten things up between you, maybe keep him at a bit of a distance, but it soon becomes clear your plan is rapidly backfiring on both of you.

When you deflect his serious attempts to get to know you better with a coy joke, instead of putting distance between you, it only seems to draw him closer. His tawny eyes linger on your face, seeking to read your true feelings there.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ He’s looking down at you with that expression of kind concern, you can hear it in his voice, but you know better than to meet his eye.

‘Oh of course, Captain Harada! You know me–’ You make a big production of shifting the stacks of papers in your arms, trying to distract from the loud thump of your heartbeat. What if he’s close enough to hear it too… ‘The chief’s busy applying for new headquarters, and I’m his right-hand girl, so I can’t take it easy can I? But how sweet of you to worry.’ You cast him your brightest, most impish smile, still not quite looking him in the eye.

‘Hmm.’ His response is thoroughly unconvinced. ‘I do worry. You can’t keep working so hard all the time, you know? You’re going to get sick if you overwork yourself.’ And before you can do anything to stop it, he’s placed his cool palm against the skin of your forehead.

‘Ah, thought so. You’re warm. Probably got a fever…your face is all pink.’

‘N-no!’ It comes out more of a yelp than you intended. ‘No, I’m sure it’s just the weather–Kyoto summers are much hotter than I’m used to–’ You manage to twist away from his contact. ‘Besides, you shouldn’t go around putting your hands all over a girl’s face. You’ll give her the wrong idea.’

He’s thoroughly amused by you. ‘Oh? Like what?’

‘Come on, you know what I mean…’ Somehow you manage a breezy laugh. And then you high-tail it away from him with a string of excuses about your work, feeling his gaze on your back all the way, clinging to your crumbling facade until you’re at least out of his sight.

His persistence only makes it harder to keep putting him off. You can’t help being attracted by everything you learn about him; from his kindness toward women and children, to his bravery as a captain, to the look on his face when he’s listening to you talk about your day. It makes a sharp ache rise in your chest. You’re starting to panic.

Because you’re not supposed to fall for this guy–he’s a soldier, a man who stakes his life every day on his honor and his duty to his chief and the shogunate. Falling for someone like him could be disastrous. You have to stay aloof. And whatever you do, he cannot know that you’re starting to fall for him in spite of yourself.

But Sano is Sano, and he’s rapidly figuring out what’s going on here. It’s a strange kind of summer weather indeed that only seems to affect your face when you’re near him…

Very gently at first, he starts to test the waters. In a way he can’t help being impressed with your dedication. Even in moments when he turns up the charm in an attempt to catch you off-guard, to levels that have won over many women in his past, you somehow manage to respond with your own slew of defenses. It becomes a kind of sparring match between you two; each one equally determined to emerge from the fray on top. He’s only more attracted to you because of it.

And you–you start to realize that you never stood a chance against him in the first place, not under the full weight of the Harada charisma. He’s rapidly disarming you.

‘Hey, did you hear what I said?’ His voice calls you out of your daze. With a jolt, you realize you’d been staring at his mouth as his words went in one ear and out the other.

‘Oh! I’m sorry, Harada. I think I must be…tired or something.’ Had he been standing this close to you the whole time? He’s so tall that you have to angle your head back to meet his eyes. Something in his face is very serious tonight; it makes you feel like you’re rooted to the floor in front of him.

He feels it, too. His body bends slightly in your direction. ‘Listen. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while…but I’d like to know it’s something you want, too.’

Oh? Oh. Oh no. A string of disconnected retorts pass through your brain, none of them gaining traction. You can feel the warmth from his body as he leans dangerously closer.

There’s a pause, like a question hanging between you both. His eyes are soft as they read your expression. Unbidden, you feel your chin tip upward toward him. He meets you in the middle…and then his lips are on yours and his arms draw you in to press against his chest and you find your hands seeking his shoulders.

It all only lasts for a moment. He’s first to break away, and you could swear now that his eyes are laughing at you. ‘No comeback?’

‘Give me a minute.’ You’re already rising on tip-toe, ready to wipe away that smile. ‘I’ll think of something…’

Heisuke:

You are laughing at him and honestly he is offended!

Not really, truly offended. You two have been friends since day one, because after all, this is Heisuke we’re talking about. The guy could make friends with a houseplant.

He’s offended in the way he gets pissed at Nagakura and Harada for their good-natured teasing–lots of ‘hey, quit!’s and rambunctious play-fighting–only now it’s with you, this young woman his age who still teases and openly pokes fun at him. He’s never met a girl like you before. He doesn’t know how he’s allowed to respond. It’s alarming, quite frankly.

For a long time he’s torn back and forth between annoyance and attraction toward you. You do little things that get under his skin, especially ragging on him about his size. Heisuke’s taller than you, but not by much; a fact that you’ve innocently brought to his attention more than once. He reminds you at one point that he could still beat you up with both hands behind his back, a remark that’s unfortunately overheard by Nagakura and earns him a slap to the back of the head for being such a ‘fucking idiot talking that way to a lady.’ You only laugh a little bit.

But it’s not always a catfight between you two. He almost wishes it was; that would make this all much easier to figure out. It only makes him more confused when your mood suddenly turns softer or sweeter toward him. There are moments when he catches you watching him at dinner, though you quickly look down when he catches your eye, your expression almost shy. You can be surprisingly easy to talk to, on the nights when it’s just the two of you sitting out on the porch in the breeze.

Heisuke finds himself looking forward to those moments with you, particularly after the memorable night when you dozed off against his shoulder. You’d grown very quiet beside him, when out of nowhere he felt a light pressure and looked down to find your head pressed on his arm, your lashes two dark crescents across your cheeks, breathing through slightly parted lips. He sat frozen still until long after the feeling left his legs.

Pretty soon Heisuke’s frustration about it all will boil over and he’ll need to pay a visit to Harada-Sensei for lady advice. Harada will listen in bemused silence as Heisuke rambles out his thoughts, pacing circles around the floor.

‘…and sometimes she’s just…she’s so cute, it’s stupid! How do I tell her that when she treats me like her brother? Maybe I should just give up, I don’t think she even sees me as a man sometimes. And she always knows just what to say to make me embarrassed! Damn it–’

‘Sit down,’ Harada will sigh, ‘You’ve got this all wrong…’

Dejected, Heisuke will slump down in a sad pile of boy and wait for Harada’s words of wisdom.

‘Didn’t you ever throw rocks at a girl when you were little, because you thought she was pretty and you didn’t know how to tell her? She’s doing the same thing to you, kid.’

‘What are you saying? You mean she…likes me? But you guys see how she always makes fun of me–plus she calls me short all the time and you said–!”

‘So what? She’s short too, dummy! How about that! Why don’t you stop whining and grow a pair and go get her if you like her so much?’

Heisuke will leave thoroughly chastised, but full of new energy at this startling idea that maybe…maybe he’s been a gigantic blind idiot this whole time…maybe all those moments he thought you were making fun of him, you were just as stiff and clueless as he felt inside. He finds you out in the courtyard, thankfully alone. Best if no one else is here to see this.

His expression catches you by surprise. ‘Heisuke, what’s wro–’ Two hands come down on both your shoulders, gripping you firmly in place. He’s stronger than he looks!

‘Look.’ His eyes are clear and determined. ‘I like you, okay? And I think you like me too, because you keep throwing rocks at me and stuff–’

‘Rocks? What are you–’ So much is happening at once; your chest is pounding.

‘Forget it, doesn’t matter now, just listen. I think I figured out why you give me so much crap and tease me all the time. You don’t have to say it out loud if you’re not ready, but I still want to tell you all the same. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, and I think you’re cute even when you’re being annoying and trying to pick fights with me, and I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time actually. Oh!’ he remembers something. ‘And you’re really short.’

‘You–!’ Your protest is cut short by his lips on yours, an awkward and sudden kiss that somehow leaves you short of breath all the same. When he pulls away, he’s glowing with a pure happiness that you just don’t have the heart to resist. You melt closer into him. ‘I think…I think you’re cute too, Heisuke.’

His beaming face falls a bit. ‘You shouldn’t really call a guy cu–’

‘Oh shut up, I like you back, just kiss me again–’

[barelystandinginthisworld]

To the person who might not know this yet;

Q: Can I love you with this much of a past?

A: I didn't even know that was in question, of course I can, and I do.

I spent forever writing and going through that in my head and the answer was always the same conclusion;

Yes.

Absolutely.

No doubt about it.

Never once has your past experiences, the ones I know and the ones I don't, have changed the way I feel, if anything it made those feelings stronger.

I'd been drawn to you for a while and I was so ecstatic to even get the chance to be friends with you, let alone the chance to love you as much as I do once we began talking and hanging out.

You make everything feel so much more possible just by being in my life

You have the ability to give me butterflies with the simplest things you do

You gave as much as I gave, I've never had effort like that

You actually took steps to help me get to know your family, not because you were "obligated" to, but because you wanted me to and that to this day always makes me feel so wanted.

You didn't hesitate much to meet mine either, even so much as keeping in contact with my sister that night the thought of the move was affecting me more than expected.

You didn't ever make me feel any genuine doubt in how you felt/feel about me

You were always quick to notice if something was off, and I know you've said I'm easy to read, but I wasn't always and not to many people.

I reached a point at the campfire that night where I finally broke what felt like completely at the time, and that ability to hide, that I seemed to have perfected in highschool, had a flaw in it.

But you didn't even bat an eye, you stayed next to me that night upstairs, someone you barely even knew, let alone his ex boyfriend, and made sure that I had someone to listen if I needed it, and distracted me when I couldn't.

I honestly had been informed you weren't fond of me as a person, so I was very shocked that you didn't mind me sitting next to you on that bench by the fire as well as even sharing a blanket together, but it was the way you kept carefully scanning everything in the yard

In that few minutes, all I wanted was to know everything going through your head, nothing else felt more important.

And that feeling continued on, all I knew was that I wanna get to know this person, to know what their thoughts are, what their opinions on random things were, what their favorite color is, favorite movies, TV shows, books, anything and everything

To this day I still wish I had just taken that chance and kissed you on that ferris wheel, but I didn't want to scare you off by moving too fast or sudden.

I haven't been much for attraction, more on the sexual end than the romantic one, but even in the beginning when we didn't really know eachothers bodies well, you never once made me feel uncomfortable or dysphoric about myself.

It felt safe.

Secure, as if I knew you for longer than just a few months.

I didn't really feel fully comfortable with a person like that, even after being with him for almost a year I still had moments that I didn't feel fully comfortable with myself in front of him like that.

But I've never gotten that discomfort with you, it's just felt kind of natural (I know that's such a cheesy line but it's true)

That night I came over when you were feeling down when I held you close, and you told me you didn't actually want a break anymore, I held your face up and made sure you were aware that I didn't just offer to come over just to "make you come back to me" and if you needed more time don't change that because of me

You just smiled at me and told me you knew that, and gave me an Eskimo kiss.

I want to be there for you, not necessarily because you need me to be there, but because you want me there.

Those nights I would come over and just sit with you while you did your homework, are some of the most peaceful nights I've had in such a long time. We didn't need to do much, or even talk much in those times, but just being next to eachother made me feel completely content everytime without fail.

I wanna go to cemeteries with you and ghost hunt after a picnic in the moonlight

I wanna climb buildings together and watch the clouds drift by

I wanna go stormchasing so we can dance and swim and kiss in the rain

Wander around meijer and drive to Frankenmuth or wafflehouse just to feel free

Try weird candy flavors and do photoshoots together for the hell of it

I wanna play that dorky drinking game with your siblings, and keep awkwardly working my way into your parents good graces

I wanna mess around for hours on snapchat just putting filters on eachother and laughing at random shit for no reason

I wanna see your goofy "sheesh" smile whenever you crack a bad joke or pickup line/innuendo

I wanna exist with you in some way.

To keep writing chapters together, and never run out of pages no matter where the genre takes us, that's what I truly want.

[allsystemsarenotgo]

“The Novel”

I've been needing to talk to somebody about something. Last night, somebody I don't talk to very often anymore was willing to give up some sleep to talk to me.

I gave them the abridged version. I knew they needed sleep and didn't have time for a novel.

.

.

.

Here is "The Novel".

---

A child learns their name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

A pet learns its name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

When bullies call you gay and queer repetitively because you've never had a date much less a girlfriend in 12 years, ... At some point you begin to believe it.

When that trend continues to a statistic of 3.25 years of relationship out of 30 years of life.....

You begin to question the things you ever thought you knew.

I was an opinionated ass in high school that knew better but did the things anyways because I had nothing to really lose. Except I did lose alot of pride along the way.

I didn't like many things, and I didn't understand the decisions of many people. There are days that I wish I was still friends with people that I alienated or that alienated me because I didn't believe in drinking alcohol or having kids before college, or at a young age at all.

There are alot of days that I wonder....will I have to be find a lady 8-10 years younger than myself to love me for who I am...and potentially make them have kids at a young age so I'm not the age of their peers' grandpa's when they graduate?

^ That image was me in high school.

I never dated in high school. I courted and got shot down a ...couple... times. I didn't go to parties, I wasn't a part of the cool kids' clique. I didn't really....do anything high-schooley in high school.

And it got me bullied. My eccentricities made me well known. I was generally outspoken and firm on what I believed (no sex, no alcohol, scientifically agnostic) and...it basically made me live in infamy. It got me bullied alot. I was called gay and queer alot. And it wasn't just from 1 or 2 or 5 people.

I had 3 crushes in high school. Two were a grade younger than I.

The first I asked out my Sophomore year. We talked alot, sat next to eachother, did classwork together. We were both above-average students, so the teacher us let us do what we wanted while she dealt with the rest of the class.

That was really what entered me into the downward spiral of depression. I'd never asked a girl out before, much less been shot down. It took me a long time to get over that.

The second I asked out my junior year. We didn't have any classes together, but I had worked my way into her family via a mutual friend. I felt like we knew eachother fairly well.

Getting shot down by her didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. But given the nature of high school, the backlash of her friends and friends-of-friends, and probably half the school altogether...that is what hurt. It showed the true colors of many whom were already primadonna status, approaching it, or (falsely) thought they had it. She did apologize to me after a period of time, and ultimately, she probably made the better decision.

I never asked my third crush out. After being shot down twice in two years, I didn't want it to be three for three. I worked with her, and we got along awesome. Maybe not asking her was a fatal flaw in my life. I will never know. We have stayed friends over the years despite not seeing eachother until earlier this summer. I met up with her twice, and both times wrenched my emotions. I've since found out she is actually taken, which shot down my chance of ever knowing the true answer.

Then I finally went to college.

I went from a school of 450 kids in a town of 360 people to a dorm of 500+ kids in a college of 10,000+.

But I did not change with the scenery. I was still outspoken.

Neither of my roommates liked it.

Neither of my roommates liked me.

I was outspoken enough to write a persuasive essay on Abstinence for my college English class. I didn't see the problem.

Until the Prof said we had to read them aloud, after she had graded them.

Then I panicked. I crashed and I burned.

I felt so....little and insecure.

I wasn't one to force my thoughts on people. Yet, I just had.

Do you know how bad that feels inside?

Pretty damn bad.

One day, I got a message from a high school friend I hadn't talked to in a while. We started talking. In the end, she admitted she had a crush on me through high school and asked if we could give it a try. I was 1.5-2 hours away from home.

It was a hard juggle, but we made it work as best as somebody that'd never had a GF before much less a LDR could.

After a few months of LD dating and the start of my second year of college, a topic came up that would change the rest of my life mentally.

And something clicked in my head.

- What if this girl was 'the one'?

- What if something happened. Would I want to die a virgin?

- What if this doesn't work out. I'll always be the inexperienced one?

That last one hit me hard. There was no way around the fact. And for what I knew, I knew that being the lesser experienced would likely never be a good thing.

(10 years later, a friend put it perfectly....)

I convinced myself to break something that I had let run my life for the previous 10+ years.

I think it's safe to say that very few peoples' first time is "great". But it's a learning experience.

-learn-

-learn-

-learn-

Then we broke up after 9 months.

We rarely saw eachother, it couldn't be that difficult to get over right?

Wrong.

-sulk-

-lonely-

-stressed-

-imbalanced-

And...

-addicted-

I was broken. The fire inside of me had been lit, and nothing was putting it out.

I had a raging wildfire spreading within me within a few short weeks, and no way to control it.

I had just started a job at the school newspaper, running the website. I shared an office with the two graphic design artists. We were getting along pretty well and it was fairly evident that both of them were really relaxed and loose about what they wanted to talk about. I was the reserved one, sitting at my desk, listening with minimal contribution.

Until one day, I finally had the courage to chime in to their conversations. It didn't take much longer before I was in my second relationship.

I learned alot of new and different things during that 2.5 year relationship.

Example: telling her father about my shellfish allergy. It was good because he cooked alot of it. It was because he knew my weakness and made no secret that some things would easily justify using it against me.

I learned to get over my fear of public image. I was dating a woman almost twice my weight. When we first started...dating...I was petrified to be seen with/around her much less hold her hand. Over time that phobia subsided.

I learned that addiction comes in many forms. I spent many nights at her apartment, sometimes I went home and sometimes I didn't. Spending 4 hours a day with her at work and another 4-12 hours with her at her apartment...it got to the point that I missed her when I was away from her. I missed having her company, and I missed cuddling.

I learned that I'm very much a physical contact person. After all those years of being an only, lonely child...I wanted to give and receive physical touch.

She would print off a piece of artwork, I would lay on my stomach on her bed, and she would trace the outline onto my back, then start filling it in. That's usually when I would fall asleep. She would keep drawing as I slept, and eventually I would wake up.

As long as we were touching, I was happy. Sometimes I would lay on her, sometimes she would lay on me, sometimes we'd be side by side with a leg on the other.

I learned that calculated risks are worth calculating to the limit. And that mis-calculating is not fun.

I learned that parents are smart and figure out almost everything.

There was only one real issue and one hybrid issue with the relationship.

Both of us were mentally strained. I could not speak my emotions or feelings. I couldn't handle the 'adulting' conversations regarding the future. I couldn't explain when I was sad, mad, upset, or anxious in voice, only text. I couldn't "use my words". When scolded, I just wanted to ball up in a corner and cry. At the same time, both of our academics were on a downward spiral of death. She ended up dropping out completely and going back to junior college, I ended up changing majors twice and barely escaping with any pride left at all and a very expensive piece of paper that said "Bachelor of Science in Miscellaneous Bullshit". Okay, University Studies...but same thing.

The relationship had evolved far beyond what it had originally been intended to be.

It was supposed to be more of a cover-up for a FWB situation than an actual relationship. But we caught some sort of feelings, and....

.

.

I've been single since then.

It took a few years, but we still talk to eachother and are still friends.

But I miss the cuddles.

I miss the touching.

I miss being relaxed and falling asleep while being drawn on.

I miss...alot of things.

I had a few more crushes develop during college. Some I let go, some I got turned down on. At least none of them laughed at me. 

One of the ones that I let go...I reconnected with a couple months ago. I was going to ask her out...and I kinda did...only to find out that she was secretly in a relationship that hadn’t gone public yet. That was a pretty good kick to the twig and berries, knowing that I was just too late to the party. 

Once I learned about High Functioning Autism, alot of things made sense. I slowly learned better coping mechanisms. I learned to do more "normal" things like making eye contact.

My senior year of college, I met an awesome lady in my coding class. We got along great. She helped crack my shell. We went on walks, we played basketball, we played on pool tables, we played soccer. We sat on balconies and talked. We kind of...had a thing going. She was my only friend to attend my college graduation. We even took a picture together in my cap and gown (which I have tried many times to find. I'm guessing it was deleted....see below).

But we didn't. I wasn't allowed to hug her much less kiss her, even on the forehead (I wanted to...many times). I was barely allowed to hold her hand.

I got shot down. I felt like I was in a plane that was missing a wing and didn't have an ejection seat.

I plummeted into the ground and crashed and burned.

We stopped talking after that.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

I could say that about many friends that I have lost over the years.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

That was 5 or 6 years ago. I honestly don't remember anymore.

That's how long I have been lonely.

That's how long it has been since I went on a date.

That's how long I have not been able to have an unweighted conversation.

Sure, I have seen my second ex a time or three. But it's not the same. That's not a date. That's not something to lead to the future.

I have a two best friends that I can talk about almost anything with. But I never see them. One lives two states away, the other lives several hours away (any other state besides Texas, and they'd be in another state).

They help. They give me a method to vent. But I am afraid of losing them.

I have lost 3 best friends in my life already.

One cut me out of their life as a birthday present to me after 4 or 5 years, my freshman year in the dorm.

One cut me out of their life after many conflicts over 7 years. We never met in person.

One cut me out of their life after I became a burden to them. We saw eachother on a regular basis, I even stayed at their house once after they tried to break my shell and I (mentally) collapsed into a puddle of goo. They also hurt me once by calling the police for a welfare check, and my parents got involved.

Of the two best friends I have managed to keep, the closer of the two has issues in their own life going on right now. I feel guilty and sad for even talking to them...they have asked that I limit interaction while they try to straighten out their own world. They have also called the police on my for a welfare check, and got my co-workers involved.

I already had a hard time making friends before. Anymore, it's hard for me to trust anyone at all.

I don't have any friends to go places with.

I'm always working my ass off (working 7 days a week these days, haven't had a real day of rest in months).

Social Anxiety says that I can't go anywhere alone. Plus I don't really trust myself alone, much less in a foreign Environment.

How am I supposed to meet a friend, when I work my ass off 7 days a week? When I don't know what resting is?

How do I elevate a non-existent friend to "More than a friend" status?

A child learns their name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

A pet learns its name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

When bullies call you gay and queer repetitively because you’ve never had a date much less a girlfriend in 12 years, … At some point you begin to believe it.

When that trend continues to a statistic of 3.25 years of relationship out of 30 years of life…..

You begin to question the things you ever thought you knew.

Sometimes I wish I was Ace.

Sometimes I wish I knew what I am.

Historically, I can be described as a smart, odd, minimally sarcastic ignoramus. But that is only my personality.

Am I straight? Am I gay? Am I bi? Or am I just hopeless?

Will I ever find love? Will I ever have kids?

Is there something wrong with me that revolts women away?

Will I have to find a woman 8-10 years younger than myself and cause her to have children at a young age to avoid being the age of their peers' grandparents at graduation? If I find a woman now, we date for 3 years, engaged for 1, married for 3, then have a kid...I'll be 37 when they are born and 55 when they graduate high school.

We're the bullies in high school right all this time? I don't want them to be. But what if they are? Or am I just that broken inside?

The things that I like/enjoy...they scare me a little. And that's coming from me. For years I have said I was a sapiosexual (turned on by intelligence rather than personality or looks)...but it never occurred to me, what if the gender lines do not in-fact exist? What if....

These are the questions that keep me awake at night.

These are the questions that feed my depression.

These are the scenarios that feed my anxiety, my trust issues, my loneliness.

These are the reasons that, more than anything....I will never turn down a hug.

Because a hug means you love and care about me.

And I need that reassurance.

But it feels good on the inside, too.