#his girlfriend offered me some food after she came home [at nine] and I ate it [I usually just ignore it when I'm hungry at night]

[lynxgirlpaws]

>feel great after the shower >have hair so cooperative that while it was wet it was going over my eyes >get out of shower >father immediately says I "look like a ghost" and slaps my chest saying that we have to get rid of my tits

I think I'm going fucking insane unironically what the fuck is his problem why is he like this

[angstyaches]

Borrow Me

By the way, since I got an ask about it after Henry’s last fic, the way you pronounce Donnacha’s name is “Dun-nuh-kah”. Also, crisps = potato chips for any non-Irish/non-Brits.

Lucyverse Masterlist

CW: light angst, overeating, stomach ache, burping, platonic caretaking, light (and brief) suggestive teasing

___

It was nine o’clock when Donnacha made it home after college and training, and he was exhausted and starving.

Everything seemed quiet in that delicate way it did when everyone was in their rooms, doing their own thing. He dropped his gear bag in the hallway and kicked off his runners before making a beeline to the fridge. He hadn’t been shopping in a few days, but there was always the chance that something had magically materialised. Or that someone else had cooked a meal and put some leftovers on offer.

No such luck. On the magic front or otherwise.

“Should’ve gone in,” he muttered to himself, thinking of the Turkish kebab shop he’d glanced into on his way home. His fatigue had outweighed his hunger then, and he just wanted to get in and relax, not stand in a line for a kebab set.

His last hope was the freezer. He pulled it open and poked around behind a few bags of frozen veggies and breaded chicken breasts; it was almost impossible to keep track of who owned what, since they’d all been living here for so long. His heart lifted when he came across a container of chicken-and-gravy pie; that definitely belonged to him. Autumn had made it for him a few months before. He wondered if that was too weird, eating food prepared by your ex-girlfriend while she was probably in your flatmate’s bedroom right at that moment, but Donnacha was too hungry to care.

He shoved the whole thing into the microwave. He knew Autumn would have laughed and said it would have been better to use the oven, but Donnacha was feeling impatient, and using the microwave felt like a tiny act of petty defiance.

Alright, pie; I’m eating you because I need to eat, he thought, watching the container spin, not because you represent Autumn, or the relationship. I’m not sentimental; I’m just hungry.

He opened a cupboard too, where he knew he’d find snacks; Donnacha had been raised to always crave potatoes come dinner time. He ripped open a packet of crisps and ate them standing next to the countertop. Dehydrated and drenched in salt-and-vinegar flavouring as they were, they would have to do. His thoughts drifted as he mindlessly shovelled crisps into his mouth and let the microwave hum and do its thing. 

Being broken up had been so freeing at first, and Donnacha had walked about as though he was thirty kilograms lighter, but once the initial novelty had worn off, being single became… exhausting. Before, no matter how much the day took out of him, a kiss or a word of reassurance from Autumn would put it right back in. Now, whatever the day took out of him was simply taken and never returned, leaving him with a hollowness that he’d never known before.

Hollowness carved out by something he couldn’t even explain, because he wasn’t sad, he wasn’t filled with regret, he wasn’t –

His fingers brushed the bottom of the bag of crisps that he’d already emptied. Maybe this mysterious feeling was just hunger.

The microwave pinged as though on cue. Instead of plating it (he’d have had to wash a plate for that), Donnacha used the oven glove to take the entire container to the dining table. There were at least two servings’ worth in there – Autumn used to give him food that he could defrost, and then eat over the course of a few days – but he didn’t care about portion sizes just then.

He scrolled on his phone and scooped up burning-hot mouthfuls, willing his mind and his body to both go numb. Gradually, the empty feeling started to dissipate and his mind became clouded with images of gym equipment and seaside sunsets and inspirational quotes.

However, there was a dull, burning ache starting to form low in his stomach, slowly creeping upwards, but by then, there was so little left in the dish that he didn’t see the point in stopping. For all he knew, it was the last time he’d get to eat Autumn’s cooking. It could well be a long time before anyone (aside from his mam) would want to cook for him again…

He spooned more into his mouth, crunching through the flaky crust and into the soft, gravy-coated chicken pieces. Tears filled his eyes as he chewed, taking him by surprise. He swallowed thickly, scooping more food into his mouth like he couldn’t get it into him fast enough.

The worst part was that he knew he was being ridiculous. Donnacha O Mhurchu wanted it all, apparently – the freedom of being single, plus the love and care of a committed partner – and had the audacity to mope about it.

God, I’m the worst, he thought as he scraped up a drizzle of gravy onto the side of his spoon and cleaned it off inside his mouth.

He meant to get up and take the dish to the sink as soon as it was empty, but he really didn’t want to move. Instead, he slid it across the table and slinked from his chair to the couch, one hand resting on his stomach. It bubbled under his palm, feeling like it was growing tighter inside even after he’d stopped eating. He absolutely should have stopped around the halfway mark, he realised with another groan; that way, he would have had some leftovers for dinner tomorrow, instead of a bellyache that was surely going to get worse before it got better.

When he finally got up to clear the table, the weight in his stomach felt disgusting. He dumped the dish and spoon into the sink and grabbed the carton of milk from the fridge. If anyone else needed any, he could replace it first thing in the morning; right now, he needed something to cool the burbling mess in his belly, which writhed under his hand as he held it.

He slumped onto the couch, knocking back mouthfuls of milk, feeling tears spring up and dry out in his eyes. He shut them tightly, wishing he could just stop thinking. He tried to focus on relaxing his body – particularly the tension in his stomach – and ended up draining the milk carton almost all the way to the bottom. It felt good, powerful even, to consume product after product in its entirety, like some sort of machine. Even if all he could do was consume, it was still evidence that he existed, that he was alive. Donnacha almost smiled despite the stomach ache, feeling a flash of his old self amidst everything else.

The dull silence lasted so long that he could have fallen asleep, until the quiet in the house was broken by the sound of Henry’s cane landing softly in the hallway. A few thumping paces later, and Henry was rounding the corner to the kitchen, pausing to glance into the living area.

Donnacha’s heart dropped when their eyes met. He didn’t exactly have feelings for Henry, but some part of him had thought (hoped?) that Henry would try to initiate something once Donnacha was single, but nothing had happened. They hadn’t even discussed the kiss that had completely rocked Donnacha’s life and made him realise he wasn’t happy in his relationship.

“Evening,” Henry called out.

“Hi.” Donnacha lazily lifted the carton, exhaustion dragging his arm right back down. “Hope you didn’t need any milk, because I just murdered the carton.”

Henry frowned. “That’s fine, but why? I don’t think I’ve never seen you drink straight milk.”

“I…” Donnacha shook his head and stifled a deep belch that pressed on his throat. “Oh. I’m not feeling too good.”

“Oh, god.” Henry paused a few steps away from the couch. “If you’ve brought a bug into the flat, Lucy’s going to kill you.”

“I haven’t. I’m just too full.” Donnacha smoothed a hand demonstratively over his belly, flattening the fabric of his sweater so that the rounded shape beneath was a little more obvious. When he spoke again, he realised it sounded a bit like he was bragging; “Too much chicken pie.”

As Henry continued frowning, Donnacha took another swig of milk. He rubbed his stomach again, finding that it actually felt nice to have some pressure rotating around the mound of pain.

“You know,” Henry said, pushing his glasses up, “I’ve heard that drinking milk doesn’t actually help an upset stomach; it just slows down digestion.”

“Huh.” Donnacha’s heart sank. The small splash in the base of the carton made him think way too vividly about how much he’d already gulped down. He swore he could feel the liquid sloshing in his belly, taunting him. “Well, where were you ten minutes ago, when that information could’ve actually been useful?”

“Sorry.” Henry looked awkwardly towards the TV screen and scratched his neck. “Do you want to watch a DVD?”

Donnacha let out a weak laugh and regretted it; it hurt his belly. “You do realise you’re the only person on the planet who still uses DVDs, right?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes.” Anything, if it means I don’t have to move. “What are you thinking of watching?”

“I’m in the mood for some Studio Ghibli, and I’m leaning towards Spirited Away, unless you’ve got another preference.”

“Another preference? From your cartoon collection?”

Henry didn’t even roll his eyes. He just blinked slowly in Donnacha’s direction, like a fish staring knowingly at a piece of bait and feeling drawn to it regardless. “Anime is a highly-respected art form. These films have won awards.”

“Mmhmm. They’re still cartoons, though.”

“What are you being all snobbish about cartoons for?” Henry murmured as he unboxed the disc. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t love Into the Spiderverse.”

“I loved Spiderverse. But it was still a cartoon.”

“You’re not allowed to stay if you’re going to be disruptive.” Henry was pointing a finger directly into Donnacha’s face. He pulled it back when Donnacha opened his mouth and mimicked biting it.

“I won’t be disruptive,” Donnacha promise. “I’ll just lie here.”

“Great.”

“I’ll roll my eyes as quietly as I can.” Donnacha opened one eye and smirked at the look of sheer impatience that Henry was giving him.

Twenty minutes in, Donnacha realised he had seen this movie before, but didn’t bother telling Henry in case he decided to quiz him on it. He’d seen it when he was either very young or very drunk. He was also finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the uncomfortable pressure in his stomach, and he wished he’d at least tried to belch or something back when he was alone.

An unconscious sigh escaped his throat as his stomach shifted rolled around and groaned under the weight of his heavy and quickly-consumed dinner. He’d been trying to massage it discreetly, but his muscles ached from training, and he couldn’t keep it up for too long before his arms got tired.

“What’s wrong?” Henry’s tone was ominous as he turned his head to look at Donnacha. Donnacha had the feeling he’d been about to ask, “what’s wrong now?” but had cut himself off.

Donnacha rolled his shoulders, arms resting at either side of him like they’d gone limp. “I’m sore from training. My stomach hurts from eating too much. I’m just really uncomfortable.”

Henry was silent, and Donnacha felt a twinge of guilt. What was he like, complaining of pains that he had caused himself, when Henry had so much of his own pain to deal with?

“Sorry, don’t mind me,” Donnacha mumbled.

“There anything I can do?”

Donnacha glanced up. Usually, he was a little taller than Henry, but he’d slumped so low on the cushions by now that Henry currently had several inches on him.

“What? No,” Donnacha scoffed, waving a hand towards the TV. “Don’t mind me, I’m just whining. Watch your movie.”

The hand Donnacha waved at the TV with rested briefly on his upset belly, but he had to let it slide to his side after a moment. He almost jumped out of his skin when there was suddenly a hand on his stomach again, a little colder and gentler than his own, but a hand all the same.

“What are you doing?” he half-laughed. He watched Henry’s hand slide gently over and back across his midriff, ruffling his jumper and coaxing out soft gurgles from the churning stomach beneath.

A flash of surprise crossed Henry’s face. “I thought you needed a hand, in both the literal and figurative sense.”

Donnacha narrowed his eyes, wondering if Henry had done this just because he’d thought of that line. But god damn it, he could already feel himself melting under the gentle pressure of his hand, the gurgles in his stomach feeling much less upset and a lot more productive.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” Donnacha scooted a little lower, trying to lay his stomach out as flat as possible. His foot hit the corner of the coffee table, and he ended up just slinging his legs onto it and folding them. The hazy lighting and the onset of food coma made the whole scene feel dream-like, and part of him wondered if it was even real, even possible.

He gazed up at Henry from his slouched position. He was looking better these days, had even gotten his hair cut and kept his neck shaved clean. The circles under his eyes weren’t as dark or pronounced. Even though his hand was working in careful circles over the Donnacha’s stomach, his eyes remained glued to the TV.

He smelled like lavender.

God, why do I care what he smells like? Donnacha wondered. His heart dropped into his already too-heavy belly as Henry turned his head to look at him.

“What?” Henry asked, like rubbing his flatmate’s stomach while watching a Ghibli movie was a regular Friday night for him.

“Nothing.” Donnacha pressed his lips together, unsure of what would happen if he just left his tongue to its own devices. Would he have made a joke, or would he have burst into tears? There was no way of knowing apart from letting it happen, and Donnacha didn’t want to know that badly.

“God,” Henry mumbled, watching how the motion of his hand was making the fabric of Donnacha’s clothes gather around his stomach. It definitely pushed a lot further upwards than it usually did, Donnacha couldn’t deny that. “What size was this pie, exactly?”

“Shut up,” Donnacha groaned, shifting a bit in his seat. “I already know I’m an idiot, so you don’t have to be a dick.”

“I never commented on your intelligence.” Henry ran a hand carefully over Donnacha’s belly. “It was more a question of… well, physics.”

Donnacha sighed and opened his mouth to try and describe the size of the pie, but stopped when he felt a ripple of movement deep in his gut.

A long, deep grumble curled through his stomach, and Donnacha felt himself blush right to the tops of his ears. His belly had given a thunder-like rumble, right under Henry’s hand. A little of the rock-solid pain dissolved though, and a few seconds later, the gurgle resurfaced and pushed its way up his throat.

Donnacha belched loudly before he could cover his mouth. Henry blinked rapidly, his face clearly a little too close to Donnacha’s for comfort about a burp.

“Fuck,” Donnacha laughed, his stomach lurching. “Sorry.”

Henry gave a grating sigh. “I try to do a nice thing and it quite literally blows up in my face.” He gave Donnacha’s stomach a decisive pat before removing his hand.

“Wait, no, I said sorry,” Donnacha whined, grabbing Henry’s hand and guiding it back to his belly. “I couldn’t help it. Everything got - mmph - pushed around.”

Donnacha hiccupped gently, making Henry’s hand bounce light against his stomach. Donnacha whimpered from the tiniest shivers of relief and pleasure that undermined his discomfort.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, honey?” Henry deadpanned, a vaguely-amused smirk tugging at the edges of his features. The vivid colours from the TV screen danced in his thick lenses.

“Ugh, shut up,” Donnacha grinned back. The blush that had flared up after the belch didn’t seem to be fading at all, and he wondered if Henry could tell. “And don’t flatter yourself, Romeo. I’m so full I would have accepted this from anyone.”

Henry scoffed. “You know how to make me feel special.”

“Sorry, I didn’t... Sorry,” Donnacha groaned. He let his head rest against Henry’s side, trying to let himself dissolve into the movie and into being taken care of by his friend. 

His stomach seriously felt better the more time Henry spent working out the tight cramps and sluggish grumbles. He felt Henry turn his face and press a slow, precise kiss against the top of Donnacha’s head, and instantly melted again.

A shuddering sigh rolled up from his chest. “I’m sad about Autumn.”

“I see.” Henry hummed low in his throat. “Do you regret breaking up with her?”

Donnacha knew exactly what Henry was thinking; the accidental kiss that the two of them had shared had been the first stop on Donnacha’s roadmap to deciding to break up with Autumn. If that kiss, that moment of tenderness and vulnerability and want, hadn’t happened, maybe his relationship wouldn’t have ended. Henry was too smart not to have realised that.

“Not really, I – I don’t think so,” Donnacha said, hoping that was reassuring enough. “We weren’t right for each other anymore, so it’s a good thing that we broke up. I know that. It’s… it’s just hard.”

Henry gave a slow nod. The motion of his hand had slowed as the conversation had turned, his fingers now lightly gliding back and forth over the middle of Donnacha’s belly.

“Maybe I just can’t function on my own.” Donnacha’s throat tightened around the words, and he begged himself not to break down in front of Henry. “Maybe I’m a person who needsto have someone… you know? I don’t need Autumn, and I don’t need just anyone, I just need… I think I need to have someone.”

Donnacha watched Henry’s hand gently lift before coming to a rest below Donnacha’s ribs. He couldn’t bring himself to look his friend in the eye, worried that he’d really gone and made it awkward this time.

“You can’t have me.”

Hot denial broke out across Donnacha’s neck, tingled across the backs of his hands and in his jaws. “Henry, I wasn’t –”

“No, listen, shut up,” Henry said softly. “You can’t have me, but if you ever feel like you can’t function on your own and you need someone, you can… borrow me.”

He couldn’t make himself respond right away. Henry even went back to massaging away his stomach ache before it fully sank in. It sounded like Henry was offering him the closeness he’d been craving before, without actually establishing a relationship. Donnacha might have questioned how his unreasonable wish had come true, but the bubbling pain in his belly was still too draining and distracting, and he wasn’t about to look a gift Henry in the mouth.

Or, as Henry might have phrased it himself, in the proverbial mouth.

“I don’t know what to say, Hen,” Donnacha mumbled.

Henry shrugged lightly. “Don’t say anything. I can’t hear the movie when you talk.”

“Oh.”

“I’m joking. Kind of. Just relax, okay?”

A deep rumble made them both hold their breaths, made Henry’s hand go still on the curve of Donnacha’s stomach. 

“Just relax and digest,” Henry amended, massaging the noisy belly and coaxing up another deep belch, which the flustered Donnacha managed to direct into his fist this time.

[thetravelerwrites]

Henry (Amphiptere Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Naga, Amphiptere, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual, Graysexual, Sex Worker, Cam Model, Mutual Pining Words: 6104

A gift from @oddacle​ to her friend/roommate! A woman moves back to her home town after an online friend offers her both a job and a place to stay. She accidentally learns an interesting secret about him that she tries, and fails, to hide. Please reblog and leave feedback! Art by @oddacle​!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You stretched at your desk and sighed. “Well, Henry, I should get to bed,” You said. “I’ve got a lot of packing to do tomorrow.”

“Dude, I can’t wait to see you in person finally!” He said over the headset. “I’m so excited you’re coming to work in the store.”

“Me too!” You said. “It’ll be nice to see you in person! And I can’t thank you enough for giving me a job and a place to stay. Working at the grocery store was crushing my soul.”

“I get that,” He told you. “I felt so out of place when I worked construction. I’m so glad I decided to save up to open the flower shop.”

“You and me both,” You said. “Flower arranging is something I love to do. I about fell out of my chair when you said you owned a shop.”

“Two more days and you’ll get to see it yourself,” He said with a laugh. “Go get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

“Night, Henry,” You said, smiling to yourself as you logged off. You had met Henry while gaming almost five years ago now, and he had been one of the best friends you’d ever had. At first you just played together, but after about a year, the two of you had exchanged phone numbers, and since then you texted each other constantly and called each other once a week. Despite that, you had never actually seen what he looked like. You didn’t mind; maybe he was body-shy. You could understand that.

When you finally quit the soul-suck of a job in the back of a grocery, he was quick to offer you a place in his shop, in your own home town, no less, as well as one of the apartments above the store. You’d been homesick since you moved away with your mom when you were younger, so the idea of going back had massive appeal. Combined with your dream job and working with your best friend, it was like everything you ever wanted was just falling into place.

That Saturday, you loaded every single thing you owned into a rental truck and headed to Santa Barbara, excited to start a new life and meet your best friend for the first time.

You pulled up to Henry’s Floral Arrangements later that evening just before sundown, driving nearly nine hours straight with only a few breaks for food, gas, and bathroom visits. You pulled out your phone and clicked Henry’s number.

“Hey, are you here?” He asked excitedly.

“Yep!” You said, stepping out of the truck. “I pulled up just now. Are you in the shop?”

“Yeah, I’m coming out! Be right there.” And he hung up.

You giggled at his enthusiasm and walked around the truck just as he came out of the shop, his face as excited as a brand new puppy with a brand new toy, and you stopped in your tracks.

He. Was. Beautiful.

He was a naga, but a rarer breed than average: an amphiptere. He had short, two pronged horns on his head and large wings on his back. His horns were teal, and the feathers of his wings were teal and ocean blue with black accents on the outside and grey on the inside, like the skin of his torso. His snake skin was teal and ocean blue as well, with giant black rings lining his back. His eyes were as golden as his nipple rings. He had lovely tattoos on his arms, neck, and back of waves and geometric shapes. He was lean and muscular, and had short black hair. He wore no clothing, so every inch of his glorious body was on full display.

You stood staring at him, unable to speak, as he slithered up to you. Oh god. This was not a possibility you had entertained. Living next to your best friend had sounded like a dream. But now… oh no, this was a disaster. How could you be attracted to him? You never felt attraction, not ever! Of all the times, of all the people, Henry had to be… this! This lovely specimen of a naga, and the best friend you’d ever had! What were you going to do?!

“You alright?” He asked, tilting his head and lowering himself down to look at your face.

You blinked and smiled breathlessly. “Yes! Yes, I’m great! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“You too!” He reached out for a hug and you walked into it. His skin was cool and smooth to the touch. He smelled like peonies. “Come in, come in, let me show you around!”

“What about unpacking?” You asked.

“Oh, leave that till tomorrow,” He said. “Let’s order a pizza and eat in the shop.”

You grinned. “That actually sounds amazing.”

“Come on!” He held out his hand and took yours and pulled you into the shop.

Oh, it was incredible. It had just crested into the middle of spring and the seasonal flowers were exploding all over the place. Color was everywhere. You closed your eyes and just breathed in the fragrances.

“Have I died?” You asked, your eyes still closed. “I’ve died, haven’t I?”

He laughed. “I hope not, you just got here.” He picked up his cell phone from the counter. “Pepperoni and pineapple on thin crust, right?”

“Yep!” You said, sitting at the counter, your eye catching on the decorative cherry blossom bonzai tree that you’d sent him for Christmas two years ago. You weren’t sure if he’d even like it, much less have kept it, but there it was, right next to the register where everyone could see it. It gave you a warm feeling in your chest.

He took you to the second floor, where there were two apartments, one on either side. You couldn’t help but notice one half of the stairs was covered with a ramp, likely to make it easier for Henry to get to the second story.

He led you to the apartment on the right and opened the door. It was a modest place but comfortable, and from the smell it seemed like it was recently deep cleaned and freshly painted in a pretty holly-green color with blush pink accents. There was a vase with all your favorite flowers spilling out of it on the kitchen table. It was mostly furnished with older but functional furniture, so you hadn’t needed to bring any heavy wardrobes or mattresses or anything, thankfully. Most of what you had in your old place was junk anyway.

“I love it,” You told Henry. “And I love the flowers.”

“I thought it would be a nice touch,” He said, holding his arm almost shyly. “I wanted you to feel comfortable.”

“I feel more comfortable here than I did in the two years I spent in my last place,” You said truthfully. “You know, we can leave the unpacking for tomorrow, but can we go down and get my rig and gear and hook it up while we wait for the pizza? It’s the only thing I have that I don’t want to leave in a truck overnight.”

“I get that,” He said.

The two of you managed to get your PC, laptop, gaming gear, and computer desk up the stairs in one trip. There was a flat screen TV on the wall of the living room to which you hooked up your PC. You ran a diagnostic as Henry heard the buzzer from the door and rushed down to get the pizza. Then the two of you spent an incredible evening eating pizza, watching comedies on Netflix, and solidifying the strength of your friendship.

You were comfortable, more so than you had ever been with anyone. Five years of talking to him was wonderful, but being close, seeing his smile, hearing his laugh and the way his eyes crinkled when he did was pure magic.

Magic that you didn’t want to ruin by being weird or creepy just because you suddenly felt attracted to him. Would he be weirded out by the fact that your brain turned into goo the moment you saw him? Would he think it was just because of his looks? You didn’t want that.

And you didn’t want to fuck up what was already an amazing relationship. Hell, meeting him in person and hanging out with him had already been a huge test of your friendship; working with him and living next to him would be an even greater one. You didn’t want to complicate it even further with an, in all likelihood, one-sided attraction.

By the time the pizza was gone and he headed back to his apartment for bed, you’d already decided to put the attraction or any notion of a relationship beyond friends out of your head.

But by God, he was beautiful.

You sort of jumped into the deep end when you started in the shop: prom season was just beginning, so you spent weeks making corsages and lapel pins. Henry thankfully spared you from having to deal with spoiled teenagers, entitled moms, and annoyed jocks dragged in by their girlfriends. Henry seemed well practiced at fielding angry customers who couldn’t make up their mind.

After work, the two of you often ate dinner together, either in his place or yours. Even though you were usually exhausted at the end of the day, you still played games together at least four times a week from your respective apartments, talking to each other over headsets even though you were probably only two walls and twenty feet apart. Sometimes you took your laptop to his apartment and played at the same desk.

It went on that way for months. It was amazing and you treasured every minute you got to spend with him. Despite putting the idea of dating him away in the back of your head, it was easy to pretend like it was just the two of you, together, against the world

After prom season ended, business slowed dramatically. You weren’t as tired in the evenings, so when you weren’t playing games with Henry, you did a little writing. You were too shy to let anyone read it, even Henry, but it still felt good to have a creative outlet.

One night, as you were writing, you heard Henry’s voice over your gaming headset on the desk. The two of you had quit playing over an hour ago, so you put it on to see if he needed anything.

“You alright, Henry? Are you back online?”

He didn’t respond, so you thought maybe you were just hearing things, but as you went to pull your headset off, you heard him say, “I’m glad to see you again. I’ve missed you.” The sound of his voice was distant, like he didn’t have his headset on.

Did he have company? His voice sounded silky and sultry, a tone you’d never heard before, and you wondered briefly if he had a girlfriend, or boyfriend. Or whatever. He’d never mentioned anything like that to you, but you weren’t his mom; he was allowed to have private things he didn’t share with other people. You did, after all.

Still, the idea that he was in a relationship cut a little deeper than you would have liked.

You heard another voice, but it was strangely robotic sounding, like it was coming through a speaker, and you couldn’t quite make out what the other person was saying. Whoever they were, they sounded male. Maybe he was in a long distance relationship?

“Mm, I love it when you talk to me like that,” Henry said, a sexy lilt in his voice. “Tell me what you’d like me to do. I could touch myself. Would you like that?”

You blushed and your heart began to race. You shouldn’t be listening to this, you knew that. It was private and none of your business. But… you couldn’t take the headset off. You wanted to hear this. You wanted him to talk to you that way. Maybe through this person, vicariously, you could have an intimate moment with him. It may be the only chance you ever got.

You heard him moan over the headset, and a sparkling heat filled your body. You bit your lip at the thrill you felt, but you were unable to move, like a deer in headlights. There was a dangerous quality to this, the idea of getting caught listening in terrified you.

You heard the person on the computer say something, but you couldn’t understand them.

Henry responded, “Of course I will. I know how much you like that… mmm, that feels so good.”

Henry’s moaning over the headset made you feel both exhilarated and astonished. You felt like you could listen to him moaned for hours.

Henry grunted sharply and repeatedly, then gasped for a minute before speaking again.

“That was wonderful,” Henry said. “It always is with you.” The other person said something you couldn’t understand, and Henry answered, “Oh, I’m afraid we don’t have time for that, darling. Our date is almost over. If you’d like to purchase a ten minute extension, you can donate an additional five hundred tokens, or you can schedule another date from any of the open slots on the main website. You know I’m always happy to spend time with you.”

You sat up in your seat, confused. Tokens? Website? What was he talking about?

There were more words you could hear, and Henry tutted. “Aww, are you sure?” He pouted. “Well, alright. I hope you won’t make me wait long, darling. See you soon.”

There was some tapping on his keyboard, and there was a power-down sound. Henry sighed and you could hear him slither out of his office, closing the door behind him.

You sat for a moment, trying to wrap your head around what you’d heard. Was he getting paid to jerk off for people? You opened a web browser and typed “amphiptere cam model” into the search engine.

You knew amphiptere nagas were rare, of course, so you weren’t surprised to only have found two results. You were surprised to find Henry’s face on one of the profiles, wearing beautiful make up and a sexy underbust corset with matching opera gloves. You clicked it, and realized he was both very expensive and highly sought after, considering all of his five weekly slots were already filled for the next two months.

Henry was a cam model. And he was apparently very good at it.

You put a hand to your forehead, stunned. What was happening right now? This was something you could never have anticipated. He was hot, of course, but he always seemed like a shy, down-to-earth kind of guy to you, even after meeting him. Who knew he had this in him? You weren’t judging, it was just surprising.

You didn’t manage to get much sleep that night, and when you did, you dreamt of being on the other end of that screen and woke in a sweat.

The next morning, you stood in the shower with your thoughts in a roil. Should you tell him you know? Would he be upset with you? Probably; listening in was a huge breach of both privacy and trust. Oh, god, what had you done? How were you supposed to act around him now? He’d know something was wrong; you could never hide your emotions well and he knew you better than anyone. Was it too late to live in a cave and cut ties with society altogether?

No, there was no internet in caves. Fuck.

You couldn’t avoid him forever; you were due downstairs for work. You could tell him that you were sick, but knowing him, he’d shut down the shop for the day to take care of you. He was so damn sweet.

No, You said, mentally slapping yourself. Don’t get distracted by his adorableness! This is a crisis!

You got out of the shower and started brushing out your hair, your stomach in knots. A knock at the door made you jump clean out of your towel. Throwing on your robe, you went to answer it. Henry was standing there with a bag and coffee, and his eyes widened when he saw your bathrobe.

“Oh, sorry, I just came to bring some breakfast. Felt like treating you a little.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat and smiled. “Thanks, this is awesome. I’ll get dressed and meet you down in the shop. You’re the best.”

He gave you a full, sharp-toothed grin and snaked his way downstairs, leaving you to grip the door to keep from falling to your knees. Did he have to be so kind? He was the worst!

You met him downstairs and tried to be normal through breakfast, but all you could think of was the way he moaned last night and tried to keep the blush off your face. Work wasn’t any better, you had all of ten customers that day, so you spent most of it talking to Henry and daydreaming about him calling you darling. It was all you could do to hold it together.

After closing the shop, he asked if you wanted to have dinner and a game at his place, but you declined, saying you were tired. He seemed concerned but didn’t press it, and you were able to escape upstairs.

You made yourself some tea to try and settle your nerves, stress-eating girl scout cookies straight from the box as you waited for the water to boil. Was it going to be like this forever? This was torture.

Another knock at the door startled you into dropping your cookies.

“Fuck!” You hissed at yourself as you bent to pick up a box. “Get your shit together!”

Henry was at the door. He had a bag from a deli.

“I brought you soup,” He said. “You seemed like you weren’t feeling well today. Is anything wrong?”

You felt incredibly guilty, staring at that bag for a solid minute, unable to talk.

“Hey,” He said, frowning and squinting into your eyes. “What’s up? Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” You said without thinking.

“Sorry?” He said. “For what? What happened?”

You were having a hard time articulating your thoughts. You hadn’t meant to say sorry, and once it slipped out, your mind blanked.

“Look, can I come in?” He asked plaintively. “Something is obviously wrong. I want to help.”

You scrubbed your face. “Okay.”

He followed you in and laid the soup on the table. “So… tell me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t even know how to say it,” You said, looking around helplessly. Your eyes fell on your headset. You picked it up and listened to it, and you could hear the fan from his office running. “Here,” You said, handing it to him. “Listen.”

He put the headset on, frowning with confusion.

“Do you hear anything?” You asked.

“I think that’s the fan, right?”

“Yeah, from your office,” You said.

He laughed as he took it off. “I’m an idiot, I must have forgot to disconnect last night after we were playing.”

“Right, it was active last night. All last night. I could hear you.”

His face went from confusion to blank shock, his mouth hanging open.

“...oh,” He said quietly. “Oh, god.”

“I’m so sorry,” You said. “I shouldn’t have listened. I should have taken it off and ignored it. I’m so, so sorry.”

There was a pause. “How long did you listen?”

“I think it was the whole thing. I heard you… finish.” You blushed just thinking about it.

“That was a thirty minute session,” He said, confusion back on his face. “Why did you listen so long?”

You looked away and bit your lip, unable to meet his eyes.

“Did you… enjoy it?” He asked. He sounded almost hopeful.

You couldn’t speak, but you nodded once.

“Really?” You heard a smile in his voice, and you managed to look up. He had a goofy, sappy grin on his face. “You don’t think it’s gross or anything like that?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m curious, though. Why do you do it?”

“I only do it during the off seasons,” He said. “The first year was really hard for the store and I almost lost the shop. I got into camming to make ends meet, but the money was so good I just continued to do it when business is really slow. I’ve been able to save a lot of money this way. I was even thinking of opening a second location, and I think at the end of this season, I’ll have enough.” He looked very shy. “You really don’t mind it?”

You shook your head fervently. “No, not at all.” You looked at his earnest face. He didn’t seem angry, and while you were relieved, you also felt inquisitive. “What’s it like? Does it feel weird?”

“It did at first,” He admitted. “But it’s normal now. It’s actually fun, especially getting ready and putting on the clothes and stuff. I don’t really get to wear that stuff out, so it’s the only time I get to feel… I don’t know, fancy.”

You smiled softly. “I think I get that.”

“Actually,” He said, rubbing his neck. “I was going to record a free promo to put up on the website tonight. Do you want to help me do my makeup? I sort of self-taught myself, but I can never get the eyeliner right.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, sure!” You said. “I really liked that corset I saw you in.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and smirked. “Did you Google me?”

“I had to,” You said. “Wouldn’t you?”

He laughed. “I guess.” He took your hand and led you toward the door and his apartment. “Come on. I’ve always wanted to have someone help with this. I’m never sure which colors compliment my skin.”

“Wait, let me grab my makeup bag,” You said, running back to your bathroom, snatching it up, and returning. “Okay, let’s go.”

Helping a guy with his makeup counted as a date, right?

He took you to his bedroom, which you’d never been. There wasn’t any furniture, not even a bed. Instead there was a huge nest of fluffy pillows and soft blankets which took up most of the floor space. He had a large walk-in closet where there was a hidden vanity with fairy lights around the mirror. The hangers had various corsets, fishnet shirts, and gloves. There was another desk that seemed to be a large jewelry case.

“This must have cost a fortune,” You said, impressed. You wished you had the confidence to wear some of this.

“A small one,” He told you. “Sometimes in camming, you have to spend to make money. The customers like variety; it’s why I record a new free promo every week. I don’t want my patrons to get bored with me.”

“Who could ever get bored with you?” You blurted without thinking.

You blushed. He blushed.

“Uh… I don’t have any chairs,” He said. “But you can sit on my tail, if you like.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at his tail as it made a hump for you to rest on. “Won’t I hurt you?”

“No, no, not at all,” He said. “Please. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Really, it’s okay, I’ll stand,” You said, unable to even imagine sitting on his beautiful tail. “Now, let’s see. We’ll wash your face first and then we’ll start on your make-up. What about a gold lip? That’ll make your eyes pop.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” He said. “I just bought some new shades recently, and I think there’s a gold in there.”

Applying his makeup for him was a stressful experience. You were eye to eye with him, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His lips were inches away from your own, and you were having trouble not dwelling on that fact. He was cold-blooded, and therefore generated no heat, but you wondered if he could feel yours at this distance, if he enjoyed it or was made uncomfortable by it.

You did also notice, though, that his tail had wrapped around the two of you twice. He let his arms dangle, but you noticed the muscles twitching a few times and asked yourself if you might be making him self-conscious. After all, you were the only person in his real life who knew about all this.

“Makeup done,” You said. “You look amazing. I wish I could pull off a look this daring.”

“I bet you could,” He said with a smile, looking at you fondly. “Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen you done up before. I’ll have to take you somewhere really nice so that I can see what that looks like.”

Again he blushed, even through the makeup, and pressed his lips together.

You didn’t answer that statement, trying not to read too much into it, and instead looked over at his vast array of cute garments. “How about that gold and blue underbust with the Victorian scrolling pattern? I think it would look good with your makeup.”

“Oh, yes, that’ll work nicely,” He said, grinning. “And that shrug with those gloves. I usually work a little bit of a striptease into these promos.”

You cleared your throat. “You… uh… you’ll have to let me go,” You said, gesturing at his tail.

“Oh!” He jumped and unspooled, so to speak. “Sorry. Have you ever laced a corset before?”

“Yeah, once or twice. I’ve had friends who’ve worn them before. Would you like help?”

“Yes, please,” He said. He lifted his arms to let you reach around him and position the corset, gingerly moving the feathers of his wings out of the way so that you didn’t crush them. “Thank you for this. I’ve never gotten finished so fast before. I should ask you to help all the time.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” You said, pulling the strings taut. “This was fun.”

“I’m glad you think so, too,” He said, looking over his shoulder. “If you don’t have any plans after I’m done filming and editing the video, would you like to come back over and help me take all of it off?”

You looked at him and blushed.

“I didn’t mean that in a dirty way,” He said hurriedly. “It’s just nice having someone who knows and I can talk to about it.”

“I get that,” You said as he pulled on the gloves. “Are you ready to record?”

“Yeah,” He said. “Thanks for helping.”

“Sure,” You told him. “I has happy to. I’ll let you get to it, then.”

He nodded and you saw yourself out.

When you got back to your apartment and sat down at your gaming desk, you sighed heavily, the thoughts of how good Henry looked revolving in your mind. You were both extremely attracted to him and a bit jealous that he looked better than you in all that stuff. It actually made you laugh a little bit.

“Welcome back,” You heard Henry say, and you looked down at the headset laying on your desk.

Oh jeez, he left his headset plugged in again. God you loved him, but he was such an idiot sometimes.

“I’m glad you could join me. I’m hoping your having a lovely day.” You heard the soft shhff of him taking off one of the gloves. “I always love seeing your face. I love the way your hands move. I love the smell of your shampoo when it mixes with your perfume. I love that soft little smile that you get when you arrange flowers across the shop from me.”

…what? What did he just say?

“I hope you’re listening. I’ve tried so hard to say this to you when we’re face to face, but I can never seem to find the words. This way, I can say what I want. This way, if you don’t hear me, then I haven’t risked our friendship, and if you do hear and don’t feel the same, you can ignore it, and nothing has to change. But… if you do feel the same… come back. Please. This show is for you and no one else. I’ll be waiting for you.” You heard the headset being pulled off and laid down on the desk.

You stood up and did the same. He couldn’t mean you, could he? There was no way. Stunned, you walked back toward your front door and opened it, looking across the hall at Henry’s door.

It was cracked open.

With your heart in your throat and breathing like you just ran a mile, you pushed it open and walked slowly toward his office, only to find it empty. The headset was laying on the desk and the camera was off. Looking down the hallway, you saw the light in his bedroom was on and the door was also cracked. Swallowing hard, you walked down to his room and opened the door.

He was laying there, curled up around himself, laying with his head on his arms, looking a little forlorn.

“Henry?” You asked.

He popped up immediately, his eyes widening. “You came.” He whispered. “You actually came!” Before you could respond, he rushed up and snatched you off the ground, hugging you tight. “Does this mean you want me, too? The way I want you, I mean.”

“I… yes,” You said. “I just didn’t want you to think it was because of… well… all this.”

“I don’t care about that, I’m just so happy,” He said, kissing your cheek. “I’ve been in love with you forever, even before we met in person. I was just scared that if you found out about my second job, you’d be disgusted. Knowing you don’t mind it gave me the courage to try and confess.”

“I’m glad you did,” You replied, hugging him tightly around the neck. “I’d never have been able to do it.”

He pulled back and looked at you. “Can I kiss you, please?”

You laughed at the absurdity, but you appreciated that he asked first. He was thoughtful like that. You nodded, and he didn’t waste time, pressing his lips to yours hard enough that you could feel the fangs behind them.

His kisses became hungry, and he gripped your clothes. “I… um… don’t want to assume,” He said breathlessly between kisses. “But… um…” He looked over at his bed-nest, and regarded you with a questioning look.

“It’s okay,” You replied. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, too.”

He snaked over to the nest and lay you down in it, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Should I take off the corset for you?” You asked him.

“I can leave it on, if you like,” he said seductively, kissing your neck and leaving a trail of sparkling gold lipstick on your skin.

“Would that be uncomfortable?” You asked.

“Not at all,” He replied, his kisses moving lower. “I want to look good for you.”

“I’m not a client, Henry,” You said. “You don’t have to work so hard to impress me. I’m already in love with you.”

“That’s good to hear,” He said, his lips against your breast. “But it’s not about wanting to impress you and I don’t see you as a client. I see you as the woman I want to be with. I should put more effort into my time with you than anyone else. I want you to know you’re special to me.”

“You’ve done more than enough to make me feel special,” You said. “I want to return the favor.”

Your hand went into his hair as his tongue swirled around your nipple, and the lower half of his tail moved up around your head. When you turned to look at it, you saw a swollen, puckering slit, normally hidden underneath him as he moved, that he now revealed to you. You pressed your finger along the line, and he moaned against your skin. One of his hands reached down into your pants, into your underwear, and touched you.

You gasped softly at his fingers tickling your slit, you doubled your efforts on his own, moving your head so that your tongue could reach it and licking a slow stripe upward. A strangled, broken grunt came from him.

He continued to undress you slowly and kiss your body, touching you and teasing. You writhed underneath him while sucking at the slit on his body, watching as a bright golden organ slowly peaked its way out, followed by another. You were startled at first, but it was fascinating to watch. You took one in your hand and sucked on the tip of the other, reveling in the sounds that he made.

His lips finally came back up to meet yours, the need in his body evident as he lined one of his cocks up to you, the other resting against your clit. He rose up to look at you.

“Still okay?”

You nodded. “It’s okay.”

He began to push himself inside you, kissing your forehead and cheek as he did so. You gripped his shoulders and held on as he fully seated himself, his second member resting between you. The slit was farther down on his tail, about halfway down, so the position was a little awkward at first, but the two of you pulled each other close and found a rhythm that suited you.

He lifted you up easily, his tail between your legs, undulating into and out of you, and all you could do was hang on for the ride. You moaned, held securely in his arms, his wings flaring out behind him, the light of his bedroom lamp filtering through the feathers like sunlight through clouds.

“I’m so close,” He gasped, picking you up as a flood gushed from the cock you had been riding, splashing against your leg and his tail, before he moved you onto the second one and kept going.

“That’s handy,” You said, also gasping.

“When this one is done, the other one will be ready again,” He said as you bounced on him.

“Oh, god,” You wheezed. “What have I gotten myself into?”

He laughed breathlessly and kissed you again, hitting harder and faster. You felt your own wave coming fast and you began to moan and whimper, not able to control the sounds you made.

Finally, you came, and the rush of ecstasy filled your mind. You lay your head on his shoulder as you dangled in his grasp bonelessly, his tail still moving inside you slowly.

After giving you a moment to recover, he sped up again, and you came again. It might have been hours before the two of you found a stopping point, or more precisely, and exhaustion point. He lay you down in the nest, corset and makeup still on, and the two of you slept in a sweaty pile.

The next morning, he woke up with the makeup smeared across his face and a serious case of bed-head. You laughed.

“What’s funny?” He asked sleepily, smiling at you from the coil of his tail.

“I think I should have taken you up on the offer to help you dress down,” You said. “Let’s get that taken care of.”

You helped him out of his corset and the two of you stepped into the bathroom, three-fourths of which was just the shower. Stepping into the shower, you soaped him down and washed his long body, and he did the same for you. The two of you couldn’t help kissing and giggling and cuddling the whole time.

He ordered in breakfast as you dashed across the hall to fetch some clothes. When you got back, you said, “You didn’t get to record your promo.”

“I can do it tonight,” He said. “Will you help me with it?”

“Of course,” You said. “I’ll be your manager or assistant or whatever you’d like to call me.”

“I’d like to call you my girlfriend, actually,” He said with a smile.

“I like the sound of that,” You replied, hugging him around the waist. “Partners in all things.”

“I like that, too. Speaking of which, I think I might be able to open that second location sooner than I thought.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, if you live with me in my apartment, we can rent out your apartment, and the extra income will help. Two birds, one stone.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me. As long as I’m with you.”

“Always.”

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[ihatecoconut]

to the newsies

“Ok.” Katherine was standing on someone’s bed and waving her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Listen up idiots.”

Jack made an offended noise.

“Not you, Crutchie, you’re an angel and we’re glad you’re here.”

“You know,” Race said, kind of lazily from where he was sprawled out across the floor, “If someone had asked me when I first started remembering you guys who I thought would quote memes, my answer would not have been Kathy.”

There was laughter and agreement. Even Davey, who Race was pretty sure still felt out of place in their group despite having been there in the last century and now, laughed at that and made a comment about how he, personally, would have said Race.

“Are you listening or not?” Katherine demanded, once the noise had died back down,

“Yeah, babe,” Sarah called, “we’re listening.”

Katherine took a moment to smile lovingly down at her girlfriend. “Thank you, now, as I am sure you are all aware it is nearly 120 years since our successful strike!”

Apparently, most of the people in the lodging-house turned boy’s home were not aware of this fact, as the room erupted into shouts and confusion, most of the old newsies cheering at the fact that their impact had lasted that long, while others were just expressing their shock at how long it had been.

“In fact!” Katherine continued over the noise, “It will be exactly 120 years on Saturday!”

“What d’ya wanna do about it, Ace?” Jack called back.

“I think,” she replied at a more normal volume since the room had quietened back down to hear what she had to say, “that we should go on some sort of outing to visit everywhere that was important to us last time.”

“That’s really sweet.” Davey said, sounding a little surprised. “I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Ok, it’s a fun idea,” Spot objected, “but I’m not walking all the way around New York, and I can’t afford the metro.”

“You used to walk all the way around New York,” someone near the back pointed out,

“And further.” Another voice added.

“I’ll pay for it.” Katherine announced, before Spot could get up and work out who was mocking him- she could see it was the twins from her vantage point but wasn’t about to tell him that- “It’ll be fun!”

There were a few other mumbled complaints, enough people were working Saturday that it was agreed they would move it to Sunday instead, and the group split at their normal time to return home- if they didn’t live at Kloppman’s- with their futures looking happy.

*

“Where do you think Kath’ll take us?” Les asked once they had dropped off those who lived at Denton’s and were continuing back to their own house.

“Newsies Square, to start with,” Sarah said, “I mean that’s the most obvious, right?”

Davey nodded, “I’d say the lodging house but most of them already live there, so maybe some selling spots?”

“That place we used to go for water?” Les suggested,

“Jacobi’s.” Davey provided absent mindedly, “Probably, that was where we kind of met her for the first time.”

“Brooklyn as well,” Sarah suggested, “For Spot and Racer, and because that was where she used to live.”

Davey nodded again, “I’m sure she’s got a plan, you know Kath, she’s organised like that.”

*

“Hey.” Race’s voice came through the phone as soon as Spot hit the answer button.

“Hey yourself, what’s up?” He found himself smiling as he rolled over to look at his boyfriend through the screen- they had only put that label on themselves recently and it still gave Spot an odd floaty feeling whenever he said or thought it.

“Just wanted to talk,” Race replied, grinning back and mirroring his position, lying down with the phone propped up next to him, “what d’ya think of Kath’s idea?”

“I like it.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Race paused, rubbing his nose like he did when he was nervous- it was a gesture that had replaced putting a cigar in his mouth and chewing it- “Hotshot said you still haven’t been back to Brooklyn.”

“So?”

“Well, Kath’s probably gonna take us to Brooklyn…”

Spot rolled onto his back, careful not to upset how he had positioned his phone, so Race could still see him, “Yeah, I know that.” He snapped, and then winced, not meaning to sound as harsh,

“And you’re ok?” Race prompted gently,

“I am.” He said, a little surprised at how true the word were, “I don’t like going to Brooklyn with Hotshot because I don’t feel like their king anymore and they want me to stay in that position…” He glanced over, seeing Race looking at him with nothing but understanding, “I ain’t him anymore.”

“Who are you then?”

“I’m Spot Conlon, I’m your boyfriend, I’m Denton’s kid, I’m Niamh’s brother, I’m…” He trailed off, about to say that he was a newsie, but that wasn’t quite true anymore.

“A newsie?” Race offered, “Because we still are, even if we don’t sell papes anymore.”

“Yeah, I’m a newsie. And I’m a dancer.”

Race laughed from the other end of the call, “Not as good a dancer as me.”

“Nobody’s as good as you, babe.”

*

“Hey, Jack?”

“What’s up, kid?” Jack asked, shifting over so Albert could fit in next to him.

“Do you think that Kath’s idea is a good one?”

“Yeah, of course, why?”

He shrugged, unhelpfully, “Don’t know. Do you think she’ll take us to the cemetery?”

Jack realised almost immediately what was troubling Albert- there were many cemeteries in New York city, but only one where both of Albert’s mothers (this time and last time) had been buried, Albert himself had been buried there as well, last time. Jack was pretty certain that the only person that had seen it, beside Albert himself of course, was Race.

“Do you want to go to the cemetery?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

There was a pause and then Albert nodded, firmly, “Yes, I do.” He nodded again, red hair flopping about as if he was trying to convince both of them of this fact.

“Ok, then I’ll text her and make sure it’s on her agenda.”

“Thanks, Cowboy.”

“No problem, you gonna sleep here or back in your own bed?”

“Back in my own bed,” Albert replied, looking a little offended that Jack would think he needed that, “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sure kid,” Jack laughed, dodging the pillow Albert proceeded to try and hit him with.

“We’re the same age!”

*

Sunday actually dawned bright and clear, despite the weather forecasts suggesting that it would rain all week.

Denton woke up everyone in his household- Hotshot, Smalls, Tommy Boy and Spot who lived there, and Sniper and Race who had stayed over- at just gone eight in the morning, resulting in six grumpy teenagers around the table at nine, fully dressed and eating breakfast.

“Alright,” he said as they were just about to leave, ignoring the way Spot groaned ‘not again’, “New York isn’t the best city ever, stay safe, listen to Katherine, don’t loose your money and keep phones out of the reach of pickpockets, everything clear?”

There was a dull chorus of “Yes Denton.” And he finally released them to make the trek across to Kloppman’s.

The Jacobs were already there when they arrived, making polite conversation with Kloppman, and drinking the coffee he provided, the coffee which Race immediately ran for after taking off his shoes. Kloppman simply shook his head at that- very used to Race’s antics after two lives of dealing with him- and gestured towards the cereal and other breakfast foods.

“We already ate,” Smalls told him, “And we already got a safety briefing from Denton before you do it too.”

Kloppman smiled at her, “I wouldn’t dream of telling you to be safe- Cowboy’d just ignore it anyway.”

As if on cue, Jack came stumbling down the stairs, thankfully fully dressed, and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “I thought I heard people down here.” He said, plopping down at the table and pouring a bowl of cereal, “No Kath yet?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Davey scolded slightly, “And, to answer your question, no we haven’t seen Kath yet.”

“She just texted me,” Sarah said, looking as disgusted as her brother at Jack’s eating habits, “She’s on her way, should be about ten minutes.”

Jack opened his mouth to speak, saw the looks on the twins’ faces, shut it, swallowed and then spoke, “I guess that means we’ve got ten minutes to wake everyone else up.”

Very soon after, the house descended into chaos as those of them who had been awake proceeded to move through the bedrooms, each using their own method to wake those unfortunate souls who were hoping to sleep in. Their unorthodox methods worked, however, and they were all packed into the kitchen when Kath arrived, the girls from Medda’s who had not slept at Denton’s with her.

“Let’s do this!” She announced to the kitchen, waving her list of places to visit, and- as if they had been awake for hours instead of mere minutes- everyone in the kitchen cheered loudly, shoving past each other to grab shoes and bags and anything else they had decided they needed for the day.

Davey had been right, the first stop on Kath’s itemised list was, in fact, Newsies’ Square. It had changed a lot since they had bought papers now, and their school was the building that had once been Pulitzer’s. The yard where Wiesel and the Delanceys had sold the papers was now the open area for the high school, and the buildings around had been modernised, re-painted or simply knocked down and rebuilt. The statue that Jack had climbed on to announce the beginning of their strike wasn’t there anymore, replaced with a small fountain. It was a little disappointing, but as most of them went to school there, they knew what had happened.

“Ey, Jack.” Race called, “Dare you to do your strike speech again.”

Jack waved him off, laughing among the calls for him to do it, and turned to Kath instead, “What’s next?”

Katherine just smiled mysteriously and led the way out. As it turned out, she had somehow managed to work out where each of their selling spots had been- everyone had their own spot in the 1890s, selling spots had been as much a part of newsies politics as their hierarchy within each borough. This part was much more popular than Newsies’ Square, with a few people actually crying when they saw the place they had spent their entire childhood last time. Some spots were almost the same as they had been a century ago, others had been built over and some had been a little destroyed, but they were instantly recognisable.

When they reached Jack, Davey and Les’ selling spot, Kath stopped again and consulted her list.

“We not going to Brooklyn now?” Race asked, “The rest of us sold there.”

“Later,” she reassured him, “I thought we’d do all of Manhattan first.”

“Alright,” Race said, apparently happy with her organisation, “Lead the way.”

*

They stopped at Jacobi’s for lunch, and unlike other parts of their history, this was a place that hadn’t changed- even Jacobi still ran the place, even if he didn’t seem to remember them, and he was as warm, fond, and utterly baffling as he had been before. The food hadn’t changed, even if the prices had adjusted with inflation, and they crowded around a table that wasn’t designed to hold that many people- Les sat under the table as he had always done when they had used it as a meeting house in the past, joined by a few other younger ones- but they made it work, sharing chairs and sitting on each other’s laps.

Davey found himself sitting on Jack’s lap, much to the amusement of his siblings, and managed to keep his blushing under control- they were still navigating their relationship in the 21st Century, it was different to the secret kissing in alleyways that they had done before- and despite being slightly too crowded, a little bit too warm and a little embarrassed, Davey was almost certain that nothing could ever be as perfect as it was just then.

Race danced on the table for them once lunch was finished, accompanied by a few others playing spoons. A few other customers laughed and clapped once they were done, but most of them gave the newsies looks that had them clearing out as soon as Katherine paid the bill, spilling out onto the street and laughingly mocking the lady who had told them they were ‘utterly uncivilized’.

Spot had an arm around Race’s waist in a possessive gesture that he never would have normally done, Jack had grabbed Davey’s hand as they had shoved past the younger ones to get out the door, and he could see others- Blink and Mush, Smalls and Sniper- also moving into gentle couples’ poses. The 21st Century had been good for all of them; there was enough food in their stomachs and they never had to worry about where their next meal was coming from, and they were all more open, more free than they had been when bound to the strict societal positions of the late 19th Century.

“Now,” Katherine said, beaming, “We go to Brooklyn!”

Racer and Hotshot both cheered; Spot didn’t, but his faced creased up into a smile that was very rarely seen, and the group of them followed after Kath.

*

It was nearly six in the evening when they finished, the group of them collapsing onto the grass in Prospect Park, a large tangle of limbs and happiness.

“Hey,” Spot said quietly into Katherine’s ear, having ended up right next to her, “thanks for this.”

She smiled back, “You’re welcome. I thought we might need this.”

He nodded and lay back down on his back, staring up at the clouds which were floating slowly overhead, a contrast to the hectic movement that their day had been.

“Kathy,” Jack said, leaning over Spot and Race, “we’ve still got one more stop, yeah?”

She nodded, “Back in Manhattan, yeah. We’ll rest first.”

Jack nodded in response, ignoring the puzzled looks that Race and Spot gave him, and pointing upwards at one of the clouds Spot had been watching. “That one looks like a fish.”

*

They left the younger ones- middle school and under- at the lodging house before they made their way to the final stop. The chatter from those who were still there died down as they approached the graveyard, nobody asked why they were there- Albert was leading and that gave most of them a good idea of what was happening. Davey and Sarah were confused, but they were polite enough not to ask.

“Trinity Church Cemetery.” Davey read as they went under the archway, still not asking questions, just stating facts.

“Trinity Church Cemetery.” Albert echoed from the front, as he moved through the stones, stepping towards a few small ones near the back. The rest of them followed him, fanning out behind him as he came a stop in front of a small plot of land that housed the DaSilva family- all generations of them, despite the fact that there were only a few marked graves.

He touched a small wooden cross first- obviously weathered and damaged by years of wind and rain- and then traced his fingers over the words on the small stone to the left of it. Race knelt down next to him, one hand sliding around Albert’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“His mother.” Jack said quietly, squeezing Davey’s hand unconsciously. “And from this life too.”

Katherine stepped forwards then, a few flowers in hand and placed them on the two graves. Albert smiled, a watery smile, but a smile none the less and they stood as a group until he turned back to the entrance.

“Thank you.” He said once they were back out on the street, “For coming with me.”

“Anything you need.” Davey replied, sliding an arm around him in a similar, but much more paternal way than Race had done. “We’re here for you.”

*

Someone had ordered pizza to the lodging house once they got back, Les and Crutchie had apparently made sure to save some for them, and they dug in with the expected vigour of teenagers who had been walking around all day.

Sarah climbed up onto the bed that Katherine had used only a few days prior to announce her idea and tapped a teaspoon against the coffee mug she was holding. “Attention, please.”

They all turned to her, some still eating, but all listening.

“I want to thank Katherine for taking us out on this trip. I think we all needed it.”

“To Katherine!” Blink shouted, raising his glass, and the rest of the room echoed him, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and mug knocking together.

Sarah climbed back down to sit between her brother and her girlfriend. “To the newsies.”

They both smiled at her, “To the newsies.”

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Villainous

A/n: This is a commission that spiraled out of control, omg, there’s so much angst and backstory I hope anyone reads this oof

Summary: It infuriates Yoongi, that the hero has something he doesn’t, and he takes it for himself, planning to use you for bait…but he hadn’t counted on how you’d affect him.

Warnings: oh boy, a lot of angst, abandoned boys, a little violence, some involuntary manslaughter (don’t judge listen I love my ragtag villain boys), mention of some emotional abuse, mention of sexual abuse (in a backstory), there’s just a lot going on here, I have 545 ideas for one shots in this universe

Word Count: 4586

He finds out that you're his arch nemesis's new squeeze by accident.

It wasn't as if any of his crew remembered you, he'd made sure of that before he'd gone to prison.

It was the new kid, Jungkook who'd told him, almost as an afterthought. "Shin has a new girl."

Yoongi had been playing cards with Seokjin, appearing to barely listen, but he's hyperfocused, tuning in on everyone's thoughts..

"In his crew?" He asks finally, discarding the 2 of clubs.

"I must be crazy, playing rummy with a mind bender," Seokjin mutters in a disgusted tone.

Yoongi's mouth turns at one corner. "Sometime today, Jeon." He snaps.

"N-no." The kid stutters. "His girl."

Yoongi snorts. "Poor soul."

He's only half paying attention, but then a pair of familiar doe eyes flash through Jungkook's mind, and Yoongi falters, dropping the wrong card in the discard pile.

"Yes!" Seokjin crows, picking it up. Then he narrows his eyes. "Are you letting me win?"

"Shut up," Yoongi mumbles, rubbing at his temples.

He'd been in prison less than six weeks. Less than six weeks, and already….

"Her name is Y/n," Jungkook continues dreamily, and Yoongi barks out a bitter laugh.

It wasn't surprising, how much of you Jungkook had taken in on his short scouting trip. The kid had always had a little crush on you, ever since the first day he joined the crew, when you'd been in the kitchen, and looked back at him over his shoulder.

"You like grilled cheese, kid?" You'd asked, and that'd been it, Jungkook had stars in his eyes every time he looked at you.

Yoongi had thought it was cute, then, but now, it makes his chest tight, makes his stomach roll, how Jungkook is thinking of the outer swell of your breast, your hair bouncing against your throat, and when Jungkook thinks of Shin's big forearm around your waist, Yoongi tosses his cards down on the table.

"Aish!' Seokjin protests, but Yoongi stands, nearly knocking over the chair, and Seokjin clams up.

Jungkook is almost wringing his hands, and Yoongi knows he's worried he's done something wrong, can see it in his thoughts, so he puts a hand on the kid's shoulder.

"New plan. Bring her to me."

***

Jungkook does what he's told. And fast. Of course, that's what he does, he's fast and eager and he'd run the 55 miles from Busan to Daegu in fifteen minutes when he was 14, away from home over some stupid fight with his dad. He'd been too scared and lost to find his way home and Yoongi and Taehyung had found him sniffling in the back alley behind the abandoned building they'd been living in.

It's sad to think about how Jungkook could've just called home, how his parents might have understood and accepted him, but it's not like they don't all have sad stories, Yoongi's crew.

Yoongi had met Taehyung first, in the psych ward when Yoongi had been 10 and Taehyung 8 and he'd been all big eyes and snotty nose, asking Yoongi a hundred questions, holding his hand tight when he realized he could, realized Yoongi could suppress that part of his brain that triggered his super strength. The part of his brain that had let him crush his baby sister when he'd hugged her, when his parents had let them hold her after she came home from the hospital.

Taehyung had never been more than a hundred feet from him ever since, even when Yoongi told him why he was in the psych ward, because he'd written a poem for a girl he liked in school and when she'd laughed in his face he got so mad and humiliated he wished she were dead and then ...she was, from a brain aneurysm, seizing on the floor in front of him.

He'd stopped talking for two years.

They met Jungkook by accident, and when the three of them got raided by Shin and the few boys he'd recruited, when their girl with the banshee powers burst out every window in the building they'd been living in and their invisible boy had stolen all their food and money, Yoongi decided to start his own crew.

Seokjin had been next, in a juvenile detention center because that's where they all ended up, eventually. He was in for arson but the papers said the dorm containing Seokjin, his girlfriend, and his best friend had burnt to ashes, almost like it had been napalmed, with Seokjin escaping without a single burn.

When Jungkook zipped Taehyung and Yoongi inside, the tall, broad shouldered boy had been in a steel room with smoke boiling from under the door.

Luckily, Yoongi knew what part of the brain to suppress and Taehyung could bust the hinges on that steel door and Jungkook was quick enough to whisk them all out of there.

Turns out that girlfriend had been fucking his best friend and Yoongi thought they kind of deserved it, anyway, but it still took months to talk Seokjin into using his powers again.

Then Jungkook told him about this boy he'd met in Busan who he swore had changed his eye and hair color in an instant when they had gotten caught shoplifting.

His name was Jimin and when they found him he'd been on the streets and instead of a boy he'd shifted into a girl, specifically his foster father's dead daughter so that he wouldn't hit him so much. But when he'd come into his bedroom late at night, Jimin had stabbed him in the jugular with a ballpoint pen.

Jimin had been the slowest to trust them but they'd gave him a bed and no one tried to touch him and it was the closest thing he'd ever been offered to home.

Then Hoseok, who'd come right to their door, wearing dark sunglasses and barely making eye contact. He'd seen the papers where they'd had a skirmish with the heroes and fancied himself a villain because he'd come into his powers late, killed his fiancee in her wedding dress when he'd been unable to control his joy and beams of electricity shot from his eyes and stopped her heart.

Hoseok had been difficult at first, breaking down when he clipped a security guard while shooting electricity into the keypad lock, but Yoongi had set him straight with a bitter laugh.

"I killed a fucking nine year old just because I thought about it, Hoseok, and you can't take a fucking security guard with a burn on his arm? Fuck you. You get to wear a fucking pair of sunglasses and forget about it, yeah? I get pissed off at one of you for cheating at rummy and have to focus not to burst a blood vessel in your fucking brain. Tae could kill you during fucking flag football. Seokjin could burn this whole place down if he has a fucking bad dream. Get your shit together."

After that, Hoseok kept his mouth shut, did the exercises to stay focused, quit complaining.

Namjoon was the last to join the crew, having been Shin's biggest weapon for years, ever since Shin had found him sleeping on a park bench in the rain, totally dry because he could control the clouds.

After a big battle in which Namjoon had flooded parts of the city, Yoongi spat out something that made Namjoon think twice about his loyalty to Shin.

"You don't have to steal. You don't have to hurt people," Namjoon had said in his even, calm voice, and Yoongi scoffed.

"At least we only hurt people who deserve it. How many innocents do you think drowned in this flood today, Namjoon? How many in that earthquake last month, trapped under the rubble?"

Namjoon couldn't shake the way it made him feel and he'd gone to Shin, who'd just shrugged.

"Gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette, Joonie."

So Namjoon left, came to Yoongi with intel because people aren't fucking eggs and at least Yoongi could help him focus it with his mindbending.

They'd become more brothers than a crew by the time you came around, and everyone was wary at first because you didn't have any powers.

Yoongi understood but he could read your mind, knew there was no ill intent and maybe he was a little naive to think it would all go smoothly, that Shin wouldn't find out and try to use you.

And use you he did, trying to woo you to his side but you, Yoongi's smart girl, you'd used that to your advantage, batted your doe eyes and pretended to be interested.

Yoongi hadn't liked it, not even a little, had been anxious for you and, if he were honest, a little jealous, when he saw in your mind how you'd smiled and cooed at Shin.

But it got them the right intel for the biggest heist they'd done yet, Shin's personal bank, where the so called "heroes" kept all that money they spent on fucking penthouses and caviar or whatever the fuck they ate.

Yoongi doesn't know where it went wrong but he'd heard sirens and called his crew to him, given himself a nosebleed erasing every memory of you so that no one could beat it out of them.

He'll never forget the way you looked at him, eyes wide, forehead pressed to his.

"Don't, Yoongi. Not me. Don't make me forget you, please."

He'd stroked your hair, twirled a curl between his fingers. "I'll make you remember again, doll. I'll make you remember just as soon as things are safe."

"What if things are never safe, Yoongi?"

He'd smiled at you, kissed you soft, not even realizing his nose was bleeding until he saw the blood smearing your mouth.

He'd watched the light of recognition fade from your eyes, and it'd hurt so much more than he'd expected.

It hurts worse, now, with you panting, your curls sweaty and sticking to your forehead, you banging against the glass and glaring at him with absolutely no recognition at all.

You'd been kicking and screaming when Jungkook brought you in and Yoongi hadn't know what else to do but put you in Tae's room.

The creation of Tae's special room had been necessary after an unfortunate incident with one of Shin's girls a couple of months back, a room that was made of the strongest, reinforced glass, like the glass they used to make shark tanks.

Taehyung was standing next to him, biting his nails down to the quick. "Yoongi...what if I need the room while she's in there?"

Yoongi rolls his head on his shoulders, frustrated. "You won't, Tae."

"You don't know that! I might! What if something happens, like it did with…" He trails off, face almost pained, and Yoongi softens.

"I know. I know, Tae. You don't have to say her name." He takes Taehyung's hand where he's worrying at his cuticles and holds it, squeezes it to ground him.

Taehyung sighs and leans into him a bit, and Yoongi feels a wave of affection for his touch starved friend. 

"I'll calm her down, take her to my room if it comes to that, yeah?"

Taehyung nods, squeezes his hand back so gently anyone but Yoongi might not notice.

Yoongi is watching you, watching you sit down in the one metal chair in the room, crossing your arms over your chest and sulking, and suddenly he wants so badly to tell his best friend. Suddenly he wants his advice, wants to talk things out, ask Taehyung what he should do next.

Something pulls in Yoongi to make you remember, look you in your eyes and watch the light and love come back into them, but another part of him, the cunning part, the villain part, knows that you’ll have intel on Shin, deep intel, things he’d never been able to know before. That intel will hurt, like how you know where Shin’s bedroom is and how he sleeps, how he fucks, probably, and he knows that and if you remember, you’ll know that too, and hide it from him in that little part of your mind you’d created when you’d been together, keep your secrets.

And of course it’s Taehyung he wants to ask, sweet Taehyung, his best friend for all these years, but he also knows Taehyung might not react well to remembering...to knowing someone he trusted with his mind for all these years had altered his memories.

In the end, he decides to start small, to reverse the memories for Taehyung and Namjoon together, so that maybe Namjoon’s calming voice can help him understand.

He knows Namjoon will understand, knows Namjoon will understand more than anyone that sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reasons.

Yoongi calls them both into his office and he hates how nervous Taehyung looks, how he’s fidgeting. Namjoon just stands there, hands behind his back, steady, as always.

“I needed you two because I need your advice...and I want to say I’m sorry that I had to erase your memories.”

Namjoon doesn’t react, but Taehyung blinks, startled.

“You...you did what?”

Yoongi sighs and closes his eyes, turns it back on, focusing on that one section of memory he’d boxed up in each of them, and then Namjoon does react, taking in a sharp breath at the rush of memories.

Taehyung sits down hard in the chair opposite Yoongi’s desk, hands tight on the arms of the chair.

“Tae Tae-” Yoongi stands, comes around the desk. Namjoon looks over at Taehyung, alarm evident on his face.

“Don’t,” he says, voice shaking. “Don’t you fucking touch me, Yoongi, you know better, you know you can’t touch me when I’m…”

“Hey, bubs, it’s okay,” Namjoon says, softly, and Taehyung jerks his gaze to the taller man. 

“Don’t tell me it’s fucking okay, Joon. It’s not okay. Don’t you get it? He’s already in our heads, all the time, and I thought...I thought it was to help us but-”

“It is! It is, Tae, I did it so that they couldn’t get information from you, so that-”

That’s when Taehyung breaks the chair, it bursts under his hands like it’s made of popsicle sticks when he stands up.

“I would never give up one of our own! Never! They’d have to fucking kill me first, and you know that!”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Yoongi says, softly, and something in Taehyung’s face softens.

Namjoon makes a mistake puts a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder too soon and Yoongi winces when he hears it pop.

Namjoon cries out, but only for a moment, and Taehyung’s face...it’s a knife in Yoongi’s gut, every time this happens.

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest, trapping his hands under his armpits, shaking all over, and Yoongi comes toward him, trying to find that switch in Taehyung’s brain to calm him but he’s all over the place and he can’t.

“Joonie, I’m sorry,” Taehyung sobs, fat tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.” He looks to Yoongi, eyes wild and wet. “I need the room.”

“Tae, you don’t, we just need to calm down-”

“I need the fucking room!” He yells, and Yoongi nods and leads him there without touching him, feeling like shit for all of this, for any of this. God, it’s so fucked up that he’s able to do any of this, that he’s been given this fucking curse…

And then there’s you, there’s you with your chin jutted out defiantly but he knows you’re scared, can read it in your mind how terrified you are, how Shin’s told you over and over what a monster Yoongi is, how he’ll leave you drooling and helpless with no memories and no way to ever make new ones, and he hates Shin and he hates himself when he hauls you out of there into his bedroom, when you fight him and he has to shove you in the bedroom and lean his back against the door, breathing hard.

Turns out Namjoon’s shoulder isn’t broken, just dislocated, and Hoseok pops it back in while Namjoon bites down on his belt and after that it’s just a handmade sling for a few weeks.

Yoongi thanks God for Hoseok’s EMT training prior to joining, and goes to tell Taehyung the good news, but Taehyung isn’t listening.

He's balled up in the corner of the room and humming to himself, and Yoongi is so fucking tired when he comes to his room that you almost barrel right past him.

He catches you by the shoulders and you struggle and he looks you right in the eye.

"Shin told you what I can do, yeah? You know I could paralyze you with a fucking thought. So calm. Down."

You freeze, and he hates the flash of fear in your eyes but he can still see you back behind your eyes, how you're still defying him even as you sit down on the bed, crossing your arms.

"I'm not telling you anything."

Yoongi fights the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to, doll. I can read your mind, you know."

You shake your head. "He taught me how to compartmentalize. Just in case this happened. I can fight you until he gets here."

Yoongi barks out a laugh at that.

"You think he'll come for you?"

Something flashes in your eyes and your lip trembles, just for a second. "H-he loves me."

Yoongi knows that shouldn't make him angry. He knows he did this, that you'd begged him not to and he'd done it anyway but even so blood rushes to his face and he slams his hand down on his nightstand and you flinch.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart. Shin Junyoung has never loved anything in his whole miserable life except himself. And he never would have had a chance with you if-"

You shake your head, put your hands over your ears. "He loves me and I love him. He loves me and I love him."

You chant it over and over, like a mantra, so much that he can't even read your thoughts and he wants to scream, has to leave the room before he jerks your hands from your ears and makes you remember, breathing hard.

He's fucking mad, he could burst Shin's brain with a single thought right now but there's broken glass in his chest because some part of that was true, he felt it coming off you in waves and every single bit of this was his fault.

He spends the night on the floor next to Taehyung's room with a bottle of bourbon, and wakes up with a pounding headache and Tae knocking on the glass softly.

"I'm ready to come out now," he says hoarsely, eyes red rimmed, and Yoongi's so grateful he feels tears welling in his eyes.

Taehyung cleans up and comes down to breakfast and Namjoon is in the kitchen, pouring coffee with his good arm.

Taehyung takes in a deep breath and leans his head against Namjoon's shoulder, gently.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, brokenly, and Yoongi watches, feeling a wave of affection for his friends, his brothers, when Namjoon flashes a dimpled smile and pats Taehyung on the top of the head.

At breakfast,Yoongi can't eat, feeling like there's rocks in his stomach.

"So, from your drunken ramblings last night, I take it you haven't given her the memories back yet?" Taehyung says, almost casually, popping a slice of bacon into his mouth.

Yoongi shakes his head. "There's so much intel we could get," he mumbles.

"You know if you weren't my best friend, I'd snap you like a twig for saying that."

Yoongi blinks at him, a little shocked.

"I remember everything now, and I know how much she loved you, Yoongi. You're telling me intel on Shin is more important than that?"

Yoongi frowns. "No. No, I just…" he sighs and puts his head on the table. "I just feel like if I don't get something, all of this is for nothing."

"She'd tell you anyway, Yoongi. You know she would."

"Not the good stuff," he mumbles. "Not where he sleeps, or how he sleeps…"

"What, you want her to tell you how he fucks, or…" 

Yoongi lifts his head to glare at his friend, and Taehyung just smiles, lifting an eyebrow.

"Do what you want, bubs, but you're gonna snap and make her remember and it'd be easier if you were calm when you do it."

Taehyung takes his plate to the kitchen and leaves Yoongi alone to think about how the fuck to do any of this.

**

It's not Yoongi but Hoseok who brings you breakfast. In fact, you don't see Yoongi alone for two days.

Shin had told you about all of them, made you read about them, sitting you on his lap with a big binder with blurry photos of them and their powers, their weaknesses.

You never thought much about it, assumed it was for your protection, but the more you're away from him, the more you wonder.

Hoseok's nice to you, has a bright smile when you thank him in a small voice, and were it not for the dark sunglasses and the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, you'd never notice anything out of the ordinary.

The kid, Jungkook, he had been nice too, apologizing over and over for having to hold you tight and restrain you.

It's the shapeshifter, Jimin, or the snake as Shin called him, and Taehyung, the one Shin had said could snap your spine, who bring you lunch.

They sit for a while and talk with you, and you find yourself laughing at something Taehyung said and wondering how this puppy eyed man could be as dangerous as Shin had said.

There's something almost familiar about all of them, and they're all so much more handsome than the blurry pictures had shown, and maybe you felt like you knew them because of how much Shin had forced you to study them but….

Everything was different, here. They all seemed so close, no stiff shoulders and "yes sir, no sir," and even when Yoongi gave an order, they discussed it.

There were times, in that couple of days, when you could have escaped, although you know the kid could catch you easily, or Yoongi could stop your brain from speaking to your muscles, but you don't feel like a prisoner.

You hear arguing amongst them only once, and you think it's the one with the fire, although you don't know why, since you can only hear his voice.

Your ear is pressed up against the door but you can only catch a few words..

"You fucked with our memories? We all-"

Then Yoongi opens the door and you fall forward into his arms, your nose brushing against his.

You can't say why your breath catches in your chest, why his hand smoothing the curls at the back of your head feels so familiar and soothing, but it makes you feel guilty, remembering Shin kissing you goodbye on that last day before he left that you shove him backwards and retreat to the bed.

Yoongi's eyes flash and you think idly that you should be afraid, but you aren't.

"Y/n, I need to tell you something."

This is when it happens. This is when he brainwashes you, this is what Shin had warned you about and he'd told you over and over that if it happened, he'd kill you because you wouldn't be you anymore. Because you wouldn't be his.

You clap your hands over your ears and start the chant again but it's too late, you'd neglected to hide your thoughts and Yoongi climbs onto the bed, taking your hands in his own, glaring at you.

"He said...he said he'd kill you?" His voice is firm but also calm, he isn't raising his voice.

In fact, he hasn't raised his voice to you at all, not like Shin…

You're still spewing out thoughts, you can't help it.

"He yelled at you? Y/n...baby...did he...did he ever hit you?"

Tears are threatening at the backs of your eyes and you shake your head fiercely, trying desperately to stop your thoughts, trying to remember that you love Shin, remembering his eyes and his smile.

Then Yoongi puts his forehead to yours.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

You feel something like fingers edging into your mind, and then everything changes.

**

At first, Yoongi is just mad because he's jealous and because he misses you so fucking much, but when he reads your thoughts and you're more afraid of Shin than Yoongi, more afraid of your so called boyfriend than the man you thought kidnapped you, the rage he feels is unbelievable.

If he'd been Seokjin, the whole room would've burst into flames.

But it gives way to sorrow so fast when he sees the tears in your eyes, when he realizes he did this, and he's not even surprised when you remember and burst into tears, pummeling his chest.

"Fuck you, Yoongi! You made me forget! You made me forget you and he-"

He tries to hold you but you push him so hard he almost falls of the bed and eventually he leaves the room, slides down against the door and puts his head in his hands.

He sits there all day, waiting for you, waiting until your thoughts turn from a rolling sea to a calmer lake.

You're sniffling when you open the door and he almost falls backward inside.

"Come and kiss me, you idiot," you say, and your voice is broken and hoarse but it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

Your mouth on his is like coming back home, hands in your curls tight like he'll never let go, and when you murmur his name he feels like his heart will break.

Later, after you're lying with your head on his chest, you tell him everything, even the things he doesn't want to hear, even the things that make his chest ache and his stomach roll and he knows part of you thinks he deserves it for making you forget.

He does, after all, he does deserve it but when he covers his face with his hands after you tell him about the first night Shin got you into his bed, you roll on top of him and move them away, kiss his eyelids where he’s got them screwed shut and his pouty mouth.

“You did this for a reason, yeah? You didn’t want me hurt but you also needed the intel, and I’m giving it to you.”

He’s still pouting when he opens his eyes, but a smile tugs up the corner of his mouth. “You got my intel, all right, my tough girl.”

You smile back at him. “Damn straight, I did. I got everything you need to take him down, and how I did it doesn’t matter, right?”

He nods, smile fading a bit, and then you kiss him again.

“I love you. Even when I thought I loved him, I loved you. You can read my mind to see that’s true.” You say, staring down into his eyes fiercely.

Yoongi searches your face and then smiles. 

“I don’t have to,” he says, and he kisses you over and over until there’s no trace of Shin in your mind at all.

[alison-anonymous]

second chances pt. 3 ♡ lou

Second Chances Part 3  ♡ Lou Imagine

Requested: Yes, thank you @dorkqueen1 and @ricksanchezxmypitifulself for asking for this continuation of the Second Chances fic for Lou from Uglydolls! 

Warnings: FLUFF, some bullying and harrassment

♡ ♡ ♡

       You were on cloud nine. 

       Only mere hours ago, you had scored yourself a date with the one doll you had been in love with for years. Or maybe months, the whole time thing was sort of weird around here. Anyways, nothing could knock down your mood now that you knew you were going to get to go out with Lou. That out of all of the dolls in Imperfection, he had chosen you. It amazed you how someone as perfect as Lou could ever find something to love in someone like... well, you (a/n: YOU ARE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE). 

       As you went about the rest of your day at work, it didn’t take too long to see some of your coworkers giving you rude looks or even death stares. Normally you would have wondered what their problem was but due to the rumors spreading around that not only were you and Lou together, but that you had slept together, it was kind of a no brainer. But nothing could knock you down from the big horse named Happiness you were riding on right now. As you went about your day, you couldn’t help but relive some of the moments you spent at the Institute. The time where you got lost and Lou had to pick you up in his limo, the very first time the two of you met, listening to him sing for the first time. 

       It was insane that so much time had passed since then and yet the feelings that you had for him were still the same, if not stronger now. How every single word he spoke to you, every time he even looked at you made your stomach feel like making you puke up rainbows and cupcakes. How you got all light headed around him and everything he did seemed like the most amazing thing on earth. How he occupied every single thought in your head and how every time you thought of him, your face would threaten to set on fire if the heat in your cheeks got any warmer. 

       It was safe to say that you were in love with him. 

       And lucky for you, your date came before you even knew it. The thing about Lou is that he is a sucker for romance. Behind all of the charisma and flirtation, he is actually a big sucker for the big romantic gestures. And even better? He’s pretty awesome at executing them. The thing is is that he only ever stretches his limbs on these gestures for dolls that he really cares about, dolls that he thinks are actually going to be worth his time of day. 

       And that doll was you.

      The date began with a blindfold (or that glittery pink scarf from your closet that you never wore). There had been a lot of nervous giggling as you allowed Lou, who you warned him that you were trusting him completely, to lead you to the place where your date would take place. It was a little bit of a walk filled with playful banter and you trying to guess where he was taking you. Finally, he took off your blindfold to see that you were on top of the cliff that looked upon the old village of Uglyville. 

       It had a perfect view of the sunset and was the absolute best spot for those who needed some alone time. As your mouth nearly dropped to the fabric ground, you took in the rest of the scene before you and noticed that he had also set up the most romantic red-themed picnic you had ever seen filled with all of your favorite foods. You turned to him only to see his eyes already set on you and gave him a sly grin. 

       “How did you know what foods I liked?” You asked. He simply shrugged, but a smirk played across his lips as he made his way over to the food and motioned for you to follow. 

       “I have my ways. A good boyfriend never reveals his secrets.”

       You froze with (favorite food) halfway to your mouth. Did he just say what you think he said? “Oh, boyfriend now, huh?” 

       His chivalrous facade seemed to falter for a bit as his adorable flustered self showed, his face turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening. “I-I mean, it came out wrong- I mean I do, but I-”

      “Lou,” you chuckled, enjoying how you had such a strong effect on him. “It’s okay. I... like you too.” 

       A huge grin broke out across his face, making you think of a child on Christmas Day. As time went on, you both ate and talked and had one of the most amazing times you had ever had as you watched the sun set over the waters. Lou was so easy to talk to that you barely even had to think about what to say next because you were already saying it. You didn’t even notice the decreasing distance between the two of you as you scooted closer to one another until you were both practically sandwiched together. However, just as the night was about to come to a close, a sudden boom of thunder cracked over the sky. 

       Your heads shot up to look into the dark clouds and it wasn’t a second later that rain began coming down. The cool rain felt good on your warm skin and it was quite refreshing since it hadn’t rained in quite a while. You were about to stand up in order to take shelter when suddenly Lou beat you to it, already shouldering off his jacket. You were about to tell him that there was no need when he suddenly threw it not over your shoulders, but over your head. 

       “Lou!” You giggled, letting out a shriek as he suddenly picked you up by the waist and slung you into his arms, bridal style. You could hear his laughter as he began sprinting into a direction of what you assumed was shelter.

       “I have to protect you!” You heard him yell over the rain hitting the pavement and rustling the trees. You were probably going to get some wicked abs from all of the laughing you did as it seemed like a long time before he finally set you down and removed the blanket from your head. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust and you finally realized that you were standing outside your house on the patio. You took in Lou’s form and noticed how out of breath he looked, with water droplets dangling from his yellow yarn hair and dripping into his eyes, his nose a bright pink from the cold. 

       “My hero,” you giggled, stealing his jacket once more and pulling it around your shoulders as you shuddered from the cold. He chuckled, but then grew serious for a moment, his mouth forming a line as he stared at you. Before you had a chance to ask him what was wrong, he beat you to it.

       “Did you, um... did you mean what you said?” You were shocked to hear how timid his voice sounded, like he was afraid to ask. His blue orbs looked into yours filled with nothing but sincerity and maybe even worry. It broke your heart to see him so nervous. 

      “About what?” You asked. 

      “About... liking me back,” he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Your heart began to pound inside your chest as the butterflies began fangirling inside of your stomach. And in the heat of the moment and the mood that the rain set and the feeling in your gut just screaming that this was right and that Lou was your sun, you offered him a small smile, stood up on your tip toes, and pressed your lips against his. 

♡ ♡ ♡

       “So, how’d it go?” Lydia asked you, swirling her tea bag around in her cup. “We need all the juicy details!” 

       It was your weekly tea and gossip meeting with your girlfriends and as usual, the hot topic of gossip was between you and Lou. You felt your face grow warm as you recalled the events of last night and more importantly the events of this morning when you had just been about to leave for the day and Lou surprised you with a kiss. Cheers erupted from your friends as they watched you try to regain your confidence. 

       “It was insanely romantic,” you giggled, proceeding to tell them every detail about the fantastical night, including the storm and him picking you up and carrying you back home. “And I also, might have, just a little bit... kissed him.”

       That was when the screaming began. All four of them rose out of their seats and ran to you, encircling you in a ginormous group hug. You couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions and savor the warmth of their embrace. At least you had some amazing friends to share about your romance with. 

        “Nice to know you’re a traitor, Y/n,” a voice suddenly chimed in. Your eyes zapped open to see Megan, a lawyer with bright purple hair and a cold stare. She snorted once she realized she had caught your attention. “But love trumps justice, right?” 

        Oh, dear.

♡ ♡ ♡

To be continued? Let me know in the comments if you want a continuation after Flawsome Bandits is finished because I’ve got some plans for this one ♡

♡ a.a.

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Daminette December Day 2: Blind Date

���—————————————————————————

Marinette Dupain-Chang had experienced many forms of love. From platonic, familial, and romantic she stole hearts wherever she lay her feet. That was until someone stole hers, they stole her heart and only gave it back when it was broken. Who would dare harm an angel such as Marinette? Why that would be Adrien Alastair Agreste of course.

The devil himself dwelled within that boy. He stole her first kiss, first love, and her confidence in romance. Adrien was kind to others and sweet on Ladybug, but once in a relationship he became someone Marinette didn’t recognize. Possessive, hot-headed, fast to aggression, etc. could all be used to describe him.

Adrien “Sunshine” Agreste could flirt with whoever, have whatever he wanted, voice his own feelings, but kwami-forbid Marinette even suggest anything of the sort. He would lash out in the worst ways, “Why are you so clingy?” He would ask harshly, “You’re always breathing down my neck! ‘Adrien I’m right here? Stop that! Can we go out?’ It’s like it’s never enough with you!”

“Adrien... all I asked was to refer to me as your girlfriend. I didn’t ask for your hand in marriage,” Marinette responded weakly.

“I don’t like labels. You know that. Plus how would it look if I was caught dating a baker’s daughter?”

She was taken aback by that remark, “So I can pour my heart out to you, give you all of me, and all that you need, but the second I ask something of you... you can’t comply no matter how small the task?!??” Marinette was seething, “You would not only degrade me, but my family just because we aren’t as rich as you? Adrien Alastair Agreste, you can do whatever you want! It’s clear to me that you don’t love me and now I’m not sure that I love you anymore either. I wish you the best without me because you and me: don’t exist remember?”

Adrien sighed, “Don’t be petty, Marinette. There’s no reason that we can’t continue whatever this is because you can’t control your emotions.”

Marinette hadn’t said a word when she calmly walked out of the Agreste Manor, she walked all the way home without a sound or tear falling from her Crystal blue eyes. Adrien didn’t even try to stop or follow her. He believed she would come back to him no matter what he did, and he was wrong. Once Marinette was gone, there was no turning back

*Line break*

A year had passed and Marinette had turn her website, “Miss Fortune,” into her own fashion house. Adrien had tried to contact her after he realized she wasn’t coming back, but she had blocked him on everything, changed her number, blocked his number, and moved to a whole other country.

Metropolis had been kind to the French-Asian woman, it had gifted her new loves: her friends. She was blessed with Jon Kent, Felix Culpa, Bridgette Yang, Garfield Logan (they met after he went to visit Jon). She also kept in contact with a reconciled Cloé, Kagami, and Luka. She had all the love she would ever need surrounding her or just one phone call away. She’s done with Cupid. She has no need for him after he delivered her to the devil on a silver platter. She vowed that she would never find that romanticized love. And Cupid, decided to take that as a personal challenge.

“Marinette please,” Jon clasped his hands together and pleaded with the French-Asian woman, “ i’m begging you here, one date that’s all I’m asking!”

“Jon, I’m not going to go on a date with someone I’ve never met. Who do you think I am?” Marinette said while working out.

“If not for you than for me, please! It’s my best friend and I promise he’s a good guy!” Jon was practically on his hands and knees at this point.

“You know how I feel about romance,” Marinette said just below a whisper.

“I know and I respect that, but he could really use someone as beautiful, talented, and sweet like someone like you,” Jon looked like a kicked puppy.

One look in his eyes and she was gone. Rookie mistake. Marinette sighed, “ I- you know what? Fine. I’ll go on this date just for you, but I swear if he is creepy or tries anything, Jon, I will not hesitate to destroy him.”

“You have my word my queen,” he said playfully.

“ Okay Superboy,” she laughed at his remark. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Job and Superboy are the same person.

How was he supposed to have a secret identity when his only protection is a pair of glasses when he’s a civilian? In retaliation she had disclosed to John that she was moonlighting as a superhero as well, Longmu. With Longg at her side now, Marinette became what is known as the queen of the dragons in China.

Luckily, Marinette did not have to make a new dress for the occasion. She had previously made a red cheongsam embroidered with flowers and ladybugs on top, there was a slit on her right leg that ended mid thigh, her hair was pinned back by two black hair clips, she wore black 4 inch stilettos, and had a black handbag with a rose painted on the front.  Marinette is too humble to admit that she looked like a goddess.

After finishing getting ready, Marinette had 30 minutes before she had to be at the restaurant that they were meeting at. She had outgrown the habit of being late since she had become the CEO and founder of “Miss Fortune.”  this restaurant in particular was her favorite. She’d come here whenever she had the time, and knew almost all of the staff by name.

Being a hero herself, Marinette, had made reservations to be poised out looking in the front door. Having said that she did not expect to see Robin in Metropolis, only to see him disappear and find another green eyed, black haired, gorgeous boy in his wake. said boy was none other than her date Damien Wayne.

The name seemed familiar, however, Marinette couldn’t put her finger on where she had heard it from. In any case she called him towards her table, “You must be Damien! Hi, my name is Marinette,” she extended her hand to greet him.

Damien was taken aback by Marinette beauty, though he’d never admit it. He quickly recovered and took her out reach to hand. He then took her hand up to his face to kiss it, “Damian, nice to meet you.”

After they were introduced, they had fell into pleasant Conversation and were beginning to be getting to know each other. They had ordered their food and ate dessert. Even after they paid, they stayed to chat. Not wanting the night to end so soon, Damien had offered the invitation to stroll around Metropolis city park.

As they continued their stroll, they came across a would be mugger. Before Damien could act, Marinette had already disarmed and pinned the man to the floor. She twisted his arm behind him as she asked if Damien was all right, “Hey, you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“How could he when you took them down before he had a chance? In any case, thank you,” Damian was impressed by Marinette’s combat skill, but had the question of how she knew what she knew.

Superboy had shown up to retrieve the criminal, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you know I could’ve gotten here before he did anything! You shouldn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger!” He whined even though it was all for show. Superboy knew that Marinette could easily beat him in a fight without kryptonite. Magic is his weakness after all.

“ I know but I had some precious cargo to take care of,” she sent a wink towards Damian’s direction. Suddenly it was 100 degrees on Damian’s face.

He knew Jon would never let him live this down, but what’s this about this not being the first time she has taken down wantabe thugs. Superboy finished his mock scolding and left with the apprehended suspect to the police station. Also, she’s the Marinette Dupain-Chang, “Wait, you said you’re into fashion, right? You would let happen to be the owner of the Miss Fortune fashion house, would you?”

Marinette nodded gingerly, “Yes, that’s me.”

“My brother would die if he knew it was you I was going out with tonight. He’s a huge fan of your work.”

“I’d be happy to sign something for him. And maybe give you my number?” Marinette asked sweetly.

She didn’t know what had gotten into her, after a year of not wanting anything to do with romance why would this guy (that she’s only known for a couple of hours) make a difference. She didn’t know, but also she didn’t mind, “That is, if you want it.”

“Yes!” Damian cleared his voice, “He would appreciate that, and I would be greatful if I could have your number. And if I maybe so bold, would you be willing to accompany me on another date some time soon?”

Cupid looked at the girl how would try and defy him with a smirk. No one can resist their fate. Marinette nodded rapidly, “I would love to, Damian.”

The night came to a close with both superheroes on cloud nine. Something about the other would draw them together. Once each had their chance, they would thank Jon for setting up this blind date for them.

*Line Break*

Two years have passed since their first date, now Damian and Marinette were attending a Charity Gala for Bruce when they came across Adrian “Asshole” Agreste. He had seen Marinette by herself as Damian stepped away to mingle with his brothers for a momment and Adrien saw an opening, “Long time no see, Princess.”

Marinette didn’t even acknowledge his presence, just as he did all those years ago. He no longer exsites to Marinette. Adrien died years ago in Marinette’s mind. She’d brushed him off in search of her boyfriend.

Adrien didn’t take kindly to being ignored, “So that’s it then? You’re not even going to say ‘hello?’ That’s petty.”

Marinette continued walking, refusing to turn back to give him what he wants. Eventually she found her loving boyfriend, only to find him down on one knee in front of everyone. Marinette raised her hands to her face in disbelief, “Marinette Louise Dupain-Cheng, I’ve been in love with you from the momment I laid my eyes on you. Every day I thank Jon for forcing me to go on that blind date with you. You are radiant, brilliant, talented, and many more things. Would you do me the honors of marrying me and adding Wayne to your already long name.”

Marinette’s face was wet with tears, she couldn’t find what to say. All she could do is nod and kiss her fiancée. Adrien was seething, he had lost.

Cupid looked down again, smirking in triumph. Looks like he won against another goddess and the devil.

——————————————————————————

A/N: This is late because I had to rewrite it 3 times. Tumblr kept deleting it and I almost gave up, but I really wanted to make the readers of Daminette December smile a little. I hope you guys enjoyed. 🥺😊

@daminette-december2019

[poppibranchlover]

Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 25

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 24. Now get ready for Part 25!:

After Poppy left her pod to join the Troll Disappearance Investigation agency for a conference meeting, Branch sat alone in his little cat bed, bored and disappointed. He feebly rocked his ball of yarn back and forth with one paw as he wondered what to do when his owner is not around.

Branch sighed and curled up in his bed, hoping that Poppy might return for a few minutes. But it was no use. If he stayed here for hours, the Archaeo morphisis’ magic will make him “full cat” and he will never change back in time.

He looked up at Poppy’s flower-shaped clock that was hung on a wall. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. Now he knew there is still enough time left before the next sunrise.

Branch hopped out of bed to observe the time on the clock and quickly thought of a decision. “If Poppy can’t bring me out one more time, I’ll prove it to her and everyone else that I’m still alive,” he whispered to himself. Deciding immediately, he wanted to find the Archaeo morphisis mushroom today and that would settle everything.

First, he made his way to Poppy’s scrapbooking desk. He jumped onto her pink chair and climbed up to her heart-shaped table.

Then, Branch found a stack of papers and pulled out a piece.

He settled it on the table. Digging something out from a box of crayons, Branch picked up a black-colored crayon from the box with his mouth and carefully began to write some words in it.

Unfortunately, it was difficult when you write with a pencil in your mouth. His handwriting was far from being perfect, and he had tried to write the words in a completely awkward way. But the result did look...great.

After struggling to write down the last sentence in the paper, Branch dropped the crayon, sweating and exhausted. He quickly added a few finishing touches to the note, putting on some glue and pasting some miniature felt cutouts of himself in Troll form and his cat form that Poppy made earlier. Picking up his crayon again, he drew an arrow between the cutouts so it would look like a transformation transition that was seen in Poppy’s nature journal.

When Branch is finally done, he admired his work, seeing how much effort he had put into this note. The words he managed to write in the paper read:

“Poppy,  It’s your friend Branch! I AM NOT DEAD! SEND HELP! - Mr. Tickle”

Branch thought that this would make Poppy find out about his fate. He hoped that she will come across this note on the table and she will ultimately recognize him for sure! 

Smiling to himself, Branch jumped out of the table, leaving the note behind. As he walked around the room, he suddenly remembered that he had to reward his bunny friend, Wiggles, with a bunch of carrots and he sprinted to the pantry area, searching for some food for his friend to eat. He hopped onto a stool and climbed up to the dining table. A basket of vegetables that Poppy had bought from a marketplace was standing there.

Slowly approaching the vegetable basket, Branch can see some carrots sticking out from the bunch. Then he pulled the carrots out of the basket and dropped them near his front legs.

Observing the carrots carefully, Branch knew that would be enough for Wiggles. Spotting two empty baskets behind the vegetable basket, he picked one of them and started to pack the carrots into it.

Finally, Branch grabbed the basket’s handle in his mouth and triumphantly headed for the door.

As he made his way there, he stopped by his favorite bookshelf, the place where he usually sleeps on, which is now packed with cat grooming utensils.

Branch looked at his shelf, and then stared at the basket of carrots. Thinking quickly, he approached the bottom of the shelf that kept cans of cat food and packed some of them into his carrot basket.

In case Branch might get hungry, he wanted to bring these kibble cans along. After he was done packing everything he needed, he picked up his basket and trotted away to the door.

Somehow, when he entered the pet door, little stairs came out of the pod until they reached the ground below. Branch happily made his way down to the village, carrying his bundle of carrots.

As Branch took three steps outside, fear suddenly clawed at his heart. He turned around to Poppy’s pod with a sad look in his eyes but he already knows that she is not there in her house. For a moment, he meowed painfully, with the hope that Poppy would hear him when she is on her way home but nothing will happen. He shook off his sadness and took a deep breath. “Sorry, Poppy. But this is what I was meant to do right now. No turning back!” he said bravely before he began to run into the woods. That sentence marked the beginning of his journey to find the Archaeo morphisis mushroom.

Branch’s heart pounded with excitement when he sprinted forward across town, holding on to his carrot basket for dear life. Right above him, the sun was beginning to set. It was seen yawning as it waved its hand over its mouth before disappearing below the sky.

Looking up at the sunset, Branch was already in a hurry. He ran as fast as his four legs could carry him when he made it to the heavy traffic that would lead him to Wiggles’ burrow. Without the need to climb a tree to get to the burrow, he fearlessly jumped from car to car before making his way across. Each car stopped moving when Branch jumped onto every one of them.

Finally, Branch spotted a familiar-looking bush and ran towards it, wriggling his way inside the shrub.

In his comfy burrow, Wiggles was sleeping in his bed made of hay when he suddenly heard the sound of carrots tumbling on the ground. Some of the carrots nearly hit him in the head that he got startled and woke up from his slumber.

Now wide-awake, he saw Branch spilling out the carrots from his basket. “What’s the big idea?!” Wiggles squeaked.

“Get up! We’re leaving!” Branch said firmly, tossing the basket aside. “It’s the last day!”

Wiggles hopped past the scattered carrots and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you remember correctly, but you said we’re supposed to start our search by dawn, not harvesting more carrots for my family,” he told him.

“Don’t you understand? I just want to offer you something for you and your kids to eat in the meantime,” Branch explained as he shot a look at Wiggles. “So I have to reward you with these before we get started.” He shuffled past the carrots and rummaged in his basket for the cat food cans that he packed earlier.

Wiggles immediately realized what he was planning to do. “Hold on a second,” he demanded, his voice rising in a tense emotion. “Are you actually doing this so you can leave my kids in the burrow all alone with nobody to look after?!”

“What matters?” Branch said, grabbing one of the cat food cans out of the basket. “You are also a Troll trapped in the form of a small animal. I have to do the right thing or we’ll be stuck like this forever.” He dropped the can down on the ground and struggled to unlock the metal tab on the lid.

But Wiggles was already trying to confront him. “Why would you do this, Branch?” he asked. “Our recovery of that missing mushroom would leave a fortune against my family!” To the bunny, he didn’t seem to understand what Branch was talking about.

“It’s fine!” Branch told him sternly, his teeth still clenched to the lock of the can. “There is no time and I need to find that mushroom now!” But once he said the last word, the lid was finally removed from the can. He dropped the lid from his mouth and started pushing the can away.

“What are you doing right now?” Wiggles asked, completely hurt. “Are we supposed to get to the next subject?”

“I’m hungry! Okay?!” Branch protested, his eyes glaring straight into the little bunny’s big sad eyes. When he spoke again, it was more gentle. “Let me eat my food first.”

He slowly turned away from Wiggles and pushed his can of cat kibble to a corner. Then he began to eat his food in silence.

Wiggles sighed. If it wasn’t for Branch helping him restore his Troll form, he would’ve been a little rabbit forever. But he thought about adopting his little bunny children and taking them to a good home, where they would be safe under his wing. That made him wonder: if he did turn back into a Troll, he feared that his children won’t recognize him anymore. So how will leaving his old home behind would help get back to his old life as a carrot restaurant owner?

Looking down at his carrots for a second, Wiggles approached Branch and tried to make up with him. “Look, I didn’t mean to be so hard on you…but I just don’t want to leave anything else behind in my burrow; the place I used to grow up into,” he said sadly.

Branch was listening to him as he ate his cat kibble. He looked back at him, still chewing on his food as the rabbit continued speaking to him. “I’m sorry for acting this way, but walking away from stuff has to be the most painful thought that can actually happen.”

Wiggles prepared to hop back to his bed. Branch quickly swallowed his kibble and used his long tail to stop him. He decided that he wanted to fully open up his thoughts to him, and he doesn’t want to lose his friendship with him too.

Branch circled around and looked directly to Wiggles. “I’m sorry for letting you down for a moment, Wiggles,” he said gently, putting his paw to his chest as he spoke from his heart. “But I have to find the Archaeo morphisis before it’s too late. If you’d help me on this, I can appreciate you as my best friend, and I hope your kids can find better homes to live after we change ourselves back.”

Wiggles couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A gentle grin spread over his face when he made a quick decision. “I never thought I'd say this, but COUNT ME IN!!!” he exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement. “Let’s do this, new best friend!” He high-fived with Branch, slapping each other’s paws together. Then they smiled at each other, with Wiggles finally glad that he accepted Branch’s message of friendship.

Just then, Wiggles’ little rabbit kids emerged from a shrub, hopping towards the carrots that Branch had brought. “Check it out, guys!” a baby rabbit shouted excitedly. “Uncle Wigs brought more dessert!”

All the baby bunnies cheered as they began to eat up all of the carrots. Branch and Wiggles watch them proudly.

“Would you really like to say something to your kids before we go?” Branch asked with a smirk on his face.

“Nah, there’s plenty more where that came from!” Wiggles replied. “After all, you did kept your promise and brought these for all of us!” Then he turned his attention towards his kids’ dinner and pulled out one of the carrots from the bunch, nibbling at it enthusiastically.

Branch chuckled at the little bunnies enjoying their meal and decided to join in too. He turned back to his can of cat kibble and began to eat up the rest of his food.

While the animals ate, Branch stopped eating for a moment when he saw something in the back of the kibble can. “Huh? Wait a minute…”

He twisted the can around to take a closer look at the contents. That is when he stopped at some icons that were printed on the back side of it. The first icon had a recycling symbol and the other one had a picture of a Troll disposing litter into a dustbin.

Branch narrowed his eyes and studied the icons carefully, as if he was putting the pieces of a puzzle together. Then he sat up and rubbed his chin, clearly remembering something that occurred in his mind. “Hmmm. Wait…I remember where did I lose that Archaeo morphisis mushroom…”

He took his time to look at the icon of the Troll and the dustbin from the back of the can of cat food. Suddenly, he remembered that one time he accidentally dropped his basket of berries and the Archaeo morphisis mushroom right next to a trash can! As the memory played out in his mind, Branch quickly bit Wiggles’ tail, causing him to yelp in pain.

“Ow!” the rabbit screamed as Branch’s teeth caught his little tail. “What’s wrong with you?”

“We have to go now!” Branch said. “I know exactly the place where the mushroom is last seen!”

“Seriously, Branch?!” Wiggles groaned, disappointed that he is unable to finish his carrot. “We’re leaving so soon?!”

“Yeah, but there’s no time to explain,” Branch replied as he prepared to leave. “Come on! We have to get going!”

He raced forward, knocking his can of cat food, causing the kibble to spill across the ground. “Let’s go! Don’t forget to say ‘farewell’ to your kids!” he called over his shoulder.

Wiggles reluctantly nodded and sped off after him. Looking back at his beloved children, he quickly said “I’ll see you later, kids! Uncle Wigs has gotta help your cat friend today!”

“Okay, Uncle Wigs! See you later!” the little bunnies said, still focusing on their carrot buffet as they waved goodbye to their uncle.

Sprinting fast with their four legs, Branch and Wiggles sped off out of the bushes and deep into the forest in search of the lost Archaeo morphisis mushroom. Their greatest adventure is just beginning!

                                                 To Be Continued...

                                              Stay tuned for Part 26!

[maggiemaybe160]

Birthday Wishes

Super Angst Fic Ahead. You’ve been warned. Also read on Ao3. Thank you @nickelkeep​ for the beta and cheerleading. <3 

Dean doesn’t celebrate his birthday anymore. He hasn’t for years.

There are pictures of the first and happiest birthdays. They’re tucked away in a box in a storage unit filled with hunter’s gear and booby traps. Dean hasn’t actually seen them since he was a child. There’s a picture of a very tired Mary Winchester beaming as he holds her baby. John is sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, pride written all over him as he wraps an arm around his wife and grins at the camera. There’s another one where Dean is sitting in front of a cake with a big candle number one. Both of his hands are embedded in the cake, frosting oozing out from between his fingers. There’s one from when he turned four and he’s offering his slice of cake to his infant brother as Mary and John laugh.

Dean remembers his first birthday without his mom. He was turning five. He remembers his father crying. There were empty bottles all around the room and Dean remembers picking one up and blowing air into it to make it whistle. His dad had snatched it out of his hands and told Dean not to touch them.

“What day is today?” Dean had asked.

“January 24,” his dad had answered, showing him on the calendar.

“That’s my birthday,” Dean had announced proudly.

“Fuck,” was the only answer he had gotten. Then his dad started crying harder. So when Sam started to cry, Dean went to his crib and lulled him back to sleep by singing Happy Birthday.

Dean remembers the birthday he got back to the motel and found a sheet cake with a note taped to it. His dad had left some money for a pizza and an excuse of a job with “PS. Happy Birthday, Son” scrawled at the bottom. Sam had sung the song and Dean announced they were having cake for dinner. Sam had cheered, but Dean knew by then that their dad never left enough money for his days of absence.

Dean remembers when his first day at a new school was on his birthday. He was in the sixth grade and hid in the bathroom during lunch so he could cry. After school, his dad took him out to test out the sawed-off he’d made the week before.

He remembers screaming after the Impala, standing at the edge of Bobby’s driveway, tears running down his face as his father left him behind. Bobby hadn’t said anything about the tears. He’d waited until Dean was through before bringing him inside and washing him up. When Dean sat down at the dinner table, he asked why Sam was grinning from ear to ear.

“Dad just left us, you dope. Why’re you happy?”

“It’s your birthday,” Sam had answered, swinging his legs under the table. Bobby walked in holding a lasagna with candles in it and the two of them sang. “Make a wish!” Sam had ordered as soon as the song was over. Dean doesn’t remember his wish, but he remembers closing his eyes and thinking about it before blowing out the candles.

“The first pie burned, so we can have the second for dessert,” Bobby had promised as they dug into their dinner.

There was the birthday that his dad came back early for. He’d wanted it to be a surprise for Dean. Sam was on a sleepover at one of his friends’ houses and Dean… Dean was having a sleepover in his motel room with a boy from school. John didn’t wait for the other sixteen-year-old to leave before he hit Dean so hard he was seeing stars. It was the first time he was called a fag. It was the first time the beating he was receiving wasn’t for something to do with hunting or his father’s drinking. It was the first time he heard someone try to stand up for him, the boy he was with screaming for John to stop.

His seventeenth birthday, he was already out of high school. He’d dropped out to become his father’s soldier. It was drilled into him that he was nothing more than a soldier, and a poor one at that. He stole the keys from his father and woke Sam up at the crack of dawn. They took Baby out for a spin. Dean was tempted to keep driving forever. He almost did. They stopped at a diner and ordered everything on the menu, slapping their dad’s fraudulent credit card down to pay for it all. They worked their way through pancakes and bacon, hot cocoa with whipped cream and a mocha for Dean. There were waffles and sausages, fruit cups and garbage plates. They laughed and flicked food at each other from across their table. And then it was time to go. So Dean drove Sammy to school and went back to his motel room for his birthday beating.

Dean was turning twenty-two the night Sam brought him a pie and a problem. He applied to Stanford. Pride had swelled in Dean’s chest, but his heart was breaking. He didn’t just apply. He got in. He was starting in the Fall and he was asking for Dean’s support and his silence.

“Just until I find a way to tell Dad.”

Dean had promised and taken a bite of his pie.

The last birthday he celebrated was his twenty-fourth. It wasn’t celebrated so much as vaguely acknowledged. Dean and his dad had been quiet, sitting across from each other in a restaurant. Their last hunt was over and Dean scarfed down his burger without question.

“She’s yours,” John has said as he slid the keys to Dean. “If you can take care of her.”

“I will, sir,” Dean said, his hands tightening around the metal. “Thank you.” John nodded and they continued their meal in their own thoughts.

Dean slept in his car that night, stretched out across the front seat as he looked up through the window at the starry sky. His favorite tape played gently and he hummed to it quietly before turning off the car and closing his eyes.

He had wanted to celebrate his birthday with Sam when their Dad was gone and it was just them on the road hunting together. He had planned to get a cake and rent a movie on pay-per-view and announce that this was their dinner. Right before his twenty-seventh birthday, he had electrocuted himself and had a heart attack. Sure, he was going to live, but only because his life was traded with another’s at the hand of a reaper. It was over, but Dean couldn’t shake it. He stood in the bakery of the grocery store staring at the sheet cake for too long before he left and bought a pizza on the way home instead.

“Happy Birthday,” Sam had said when Dean walked in with the pizza. He had a sheet cake on one of the beds, ready with two forks. “Didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

The next year, Dean glared at the calendar. He was supposed to be dead. His dad made a deal and now he was living on borrowed time. If he hadn’t done it, Dean would have died before making it to twenty-eight. He would have died in a car crash, blood running down his face as he melted into the backseat of his beloved car.

“I don’t want to celebrate this year,” Dean told Sam.

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t be here. We saved a girl, but we didn’t save anyone else. I just don’t feel like it, okay?” Dean had grabbed the remote and turned on the tv before Sam could answer.  Sam didn’t argue, though. He left Dean alone to watch tv and returned an hour later with a six-pack of Dean’s favorite beer in one hand and a cherry pie in the other.

Dean remembers his twenty-ninth birthday. It was his last hurrah before being dragged downstairs. He’d sold his soul and he would celebrate if he wanted to. They set off fireworks together in the middle of nowhere. They ate bacon cheeseburgers and pie. Dean dragged his party-pooper brother from bar to bar, staying until they were kicked out of each one. Sam waited in the car as Dean went to a strip club, his pockets loaded with singles.

When it was all over and Sam was in his bed asleep, Dean stared up at the ceiling in the dark and whispered, “All hunters die young. Twenty-nine is old enough. Happy Birthday to me.” The first year out of Hell was the beginning of Dean refusing to celebrate his birthday. To make sure Sam didn’t try to show up with a pie or a cake, Dean let himself disappear. Sam didn’t text him to ask him where he was. He didn’t call him. Dean was alone with Baby on his first birthday out of Hell. He spent it staring up at the sky, wondering why Heaven would save such a broken person.

His birthday became a box on a calendar with bad memories. Sam didn’t try to bring it up and Dean didn’t have to hide. Then Sam was gone. Cas was gone. All Dean had was Lisa and she didn’t know when his birthday was, though they fought about it.

“It’s not a big deal. Just tell me,” she said, though her voice was no longer calm and curious. She was getting angrier the longer he kept his mouth shut.

“Drop it, Lisa,” he had warned her, closing his book and getting out of his chair.

“You want the ‘picket-fence life’ as you call it. You want the girlfriend and the son. You want to live in the suburbs and have friends and celebrate holidays, but you won’t tell me what happened to your brother. You won’t tell me where your father is. You won’t tell me why you’re here. You won’t even tell me when your god damn birthday is!”

“They’re dead!” Dean had yelled. “Dad’s dead and has been for years! Sam’s… Sam’s gone! Are you wondering about my mom too?”

“Dean, no. I.. I’m sorry,” she tried, realizing her mistake.

“Because she’s dead too!” Dean continued, every muscle in his body tensed. “What the fuck else did you want to know? My fucking birthday? Like it fucking matters?” She didn’t know it was his birthday that day. “I need some air,” he said, dropping his voice and dragging his fingers through his hair.

“Dean…”

“Don’t follow me,” he said as he walked out to the garage. He locked the door and slipped into his Impala, gripping the wheel until his nails bit into his palms and his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw to keep from screaming and when he shut his eyes tight, he ignored the tears that had rolled down his cheeks.

The next time Dean thought about his birthday after that night was when he was sitting with his back against a tree in Purgatory. Benny was sleeping as Dean kept a lookout in the dark, his grip tight on his makeshift blade.

“I don’t know how long I’ve been in this place,” Dean had prayed quietly to Cas as he prayed every night. “I’m not giving up. I won’t leave without you.” He drew a candle in the dirt between his feet. “It could be August. It could be January. It could be my birthday and I wouldn’t even know it, Cas. If it’s my birthday, then I get one wish, right?”

He took a deep breath and blew out the etching of a candle. It was too dark to see, but he was sure the marks were gone, his drawing erased. He remembers his wish. He wished for Cas. It’s the only birthday wish that Dean remembers coming true.

It was Dean’s thirty-fourth birthday when he got to give the Braveheart speech to a LARPing group for his Queen of Moondor, Charlie. He hadn’t realized it was his birthday until after the speech when he was back in his normal clothes driving away with a smile on his face.

“Have a good birthday?” Sam had asked. Dean had felt the floor drop out from under him. He wasn’t allowed to have a good birthday. It had been a cursed day for most of his life.

“I didn’t know it was,” Dean said honestly. He wanted the subject to drop before it entered dangerous territory.

“Nice speech,” Sam said instead of continuing the birthday talk like Dean had expected him to.

“Thanks,” he grinned again and his birthday was forgotten.

The first birthday present Dean received after the Impala was the Mark of Cain. His brother walked out of his life and Cas was far from home. Dean drank more alcohol with the Mark on his arm than he ever had before. His tolerance was higher and his thirst was greater and his home was emptier than ever.

“Happy Birthday to you,” Dean sang quietly to himself before taking another swig of beer. “Happy Birthday to you. Everyone leaves you ‘cause you’re worthless. Happy Birthday to me.” His next birthday went unannounced and unnoticed. Looking back, Dean realized that on his birthday, he’d been slamming his fists into Metatron’s face, the pain from the Mark easing with every swing, urging him to keep going. He had dragged the angel blade down the angel’s chest, eliciting the screams that fed the Mark as Sam and Cas beat the door down. He was pulled away, the world far away under the daze of the Mark. Being forcibly removed from his attack felt like waking up from a fainting spell. His birthday was spent trying to find out how to get rid of the previous year’s gift.

Dean’s thirty-eighth birthday was spent in a jail cell in the middle of nowhere. Dean kept track of the days that he was confined to solitary by etching tally marks in his wall. His birthday was just another tally mark. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall and refrained from praying to Cas.

Dean had already decided that he would say goodbye to all of his family and friends on his fortieth birthday. He was prepared to lock himself inside of a coffin at the bottom of the ocean. He was prepared for it if it meant saving everyone else. Dean remembers wrapping his arms around his brother and wanting to say more. He remembers not being able to find the words. He also remembers staring at Cas’ name in his phone. He was the only person Dean couldn’t say goodbye to. He knew that if he looked into those eyes while he was that weak and heard his deep voice begging him not to do it, he would have given in. He wouldn’t have been able to go through with leaving everything behind when everything was begging him not to.

It’s Dean’s forty-first birthday. He made it all the way to forty-one. He pushes the thought away as he has for every other birthday and makes his way to the kitchen.

“I’m going for a drive,” he announces. Sam looks concerned for a moment before his eyes flicker to the calendar. He nods and continues eating whatever the fuck is in his bowl. It looks and smells like oatmeal, but Dean doesn’t want to dwell on it.

“Have fun,” Sam says. Dean bites his lip and hits the wall gently as he nods before walking away. Sure. Fun.

It takes three hours to drive to his destination. He checks his pockets and makes sure they’re empty before he gets out of his car and walks into the seemingly abandoned building. He walks slowly and looks around at the cracked windows that provide the only light this building has.

“I’m not armed,” Dean says. “No tricks. Just a wish.” A birthday wish. A hand grips his wrist and he feels himself get spun around. He’s face to face with a djinn, his eyes glowing blue.

“A Winchester,” the djinn says. “Where’s the other and the angel?”

“At home unaware. Just me.” He keeps his voice even despite the slight fear he feels pounding in his chest. The djinn’s other hand sparks as he brings it to Dean’s temple. The world slides away and Dean feels himself being caught before he falls.

When he opens his eyes, he’s exactly where he started. In the middle of an abandoned building. He stands up and looks up at the windows. They’re not cracked anymore. He turns to the door and walks to the exit, brushing the dirt from the floor off of him.

“Dean!” Cas runs to him from where he had been standing beside the Impala.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean pulls him in for a hug and closes his eyes as he feels Cas’ arms around him. He’s probably only feeling his own heart hammering away, but he’s sure he can feel Cas’ slamming against his. “Come on,” he says when they break apart.

“Where are we going, Dean?”

“Trust me. You’ll love it,” Dean says with a cheeky grin and a wink. Cas gets into the passenger seat and takes a tape out of his pocket. “What’s that?” Dean asks as he starts to drive.

“It was a gift,” Cas says as she pushes it into the tape deck. Dean would recognize this tape anywhere. He’d made it a long time ago and given it to Cas. He grins as Zepplin plays loudly through the car.

The drive doesn’t take as long as Dean expected, but he’s glad to park and stare out over the Grand Canyon with Cas by his side.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Dean asks, turning the music off.

“Yes,” Cas breathes, looking out.

Dean feels Cas’ fingers brush against his on the seat between them. He laces his fingers with Cas’ without looking down.

“I’m glad you prayed to me,” Cas says quietly. “It gave me a reason to fight.”

“I’m glad you fought,” Dean answers. “So I could see you again.”

A helicopter rises from the canyon and Dean’s eyes go wide. He takes his hand from Cas and throws the car into reverse, turning 180 and trying to drive through the kicked-up dirt. He can hear the sirens. They’re being surrounded. Dean spins the car around again, panic rising in his chest.

“It looks like an army,” Cas says.

“All of this for us?” Dean looks from his rearview mirror to Cas.

“Place your hands in plain view!” The order comes over a loudspeaker from one of the cars. “Any failure to obey that command will be considered an act of aggression against us!” Dean tunes them out as they continue their demands. He grabs his gun and starts to reload.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Cas asks.

“I’m not givin’ up.” He presses the bullets in hastily. “I just got you back.”

“Okay. Let’s not get caught.” Dean looks up at Cas’ words.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Let’s keep going.” Cas’ blue eyes are piercing and pleading. He looks from Dean to the cliff they’re facing. “Go.”

“You sure?” Dean asks.

“Yes.” Cas nods and looks back at Dean. “As long as we’re together.” Dean grins and nods.

“Cas,” he breathes before he pulls Cas to him and their lips crash together. His fingers rake through Cas’ thick hair as his lips part for him. He can feel Cas’ hand on his jaw and his teeth against his lip. They laugh into each other as they part.

Dean nods and floors it, speeding toward the cliff. He holds out his hand and Cas takes it without hesitation, their fingers winding together. The tires leave the ground and Dean suddenly feels weightless. He squeezes Cas’ hand and turns to look at him, wanting his face to be the last thing he sees.

His dark hair is wild from Dean’s fingers dragging through it. His eyes hold all the shades of blue that the sky holds. His lips are perfect and slightly parted, taking in a breath.

“Dean.”

“Cas.”

“Dean!” Dean blinks blearily, the dream tearing itself up and disintegrating. He can’t focus. He’s so cold and tired and Cas is there. Cas. “Let me heal you,” he pleads. His face swims into focus. Why is he here? He didn’t tell anyone he was going to be here. “What were you doing here?”

“It’s my birthday,” Dean says on an exhale. He feels Cas’ hand on the side of his face and wonders if he has enough blood left to blush. Cas is healing him. He can feel the heat of the grace in Cas’ palm. He doesn’t fight.

“You could have died,” Cas says. Is it anger? Worry?

“Not with my guardian angel,” Dean says as he sits up. His head had been in Cas’ lap, cradled gently. He clenches his jaw and looks away from his best friend. “Thanks, Cas.” He looks toward the door and realizes how dark it is outside. “How long was I gone?”

“Only a few hours, but multiple djinn were feeding on you. How did this happen?”

“Come on, Cas. It’s a long drive back.” He gets up at the same time as Cas and walks toward his exit.

“I didn’t know today was your birthday,” Cas says as he gets in the car.

“It’s not important,” Dean brushes it off. “Hasn’t been for a long time.”

“Happy Birthday, Dean,” Cas says quietly.

Tag List: To be Added like/comment/reblog the post on this link @jemariel @blueeyesandpie @anarchiana @samatedeansbroccoli @localgaycatastrophie @fandom-is-my-middle-name @soloarcana @destielhoneybee @destiel-honeypie @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @spn-bitchh @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @skittles-rainbow-cat  @kingofmyimagination @k-lewis @castibella-shipper-of-the-lord @aestheticallydyke @righteouscomeuppancejogstheliver@deanwinchesterswitch @adventurous-blob @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @ain-t-bovvered @royalrowena @telefunkies @em-thechaoticplant @canadduh-fics​ @alex-alison

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [10] - {ShikaTema AU}

Apologies that it’s been a while but I’m done with uni until January now so stress has slightly subsided. Love you all and hope you enjoy this chapter!

As always, I’d love to hear what you think of it. And, once again, thanks so much for reading!

CHAPTER TEN

For her brothers to believe her lie that she was going to work at the all night cafe a few streets away and not to secretly meet someone, Temari had been made to carry her files around in her bag, but after only five minutes waiting outside the fish-and-chip shop, she found herself unable to keep hold of it anymore. Checking her phone once again, she slid down against the wall and put her bag beside her on the floor. It was almost nine-thirty, and she’d been waiting for her chips since nine-twenty-three. She’d been waiting for him since nine-fifteen.

Give it five more minutes, she decided, and I’m going home.

Meanwhile, Shikamaru speed walked down the street, desperately trying to stop himself from slowing to a halt and lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. Instead, he powered on forward in the knowledge he was late, turning the final corner before he saw her, slumped against the window outside, and staring straight ahead across the road.

He physically couldn’t stop himself starting to run towards her.

“Hey!” he called out.

Her head whipped round, her ponytail flailing, but instead of heading over to him when she jumped to her feet, she disappeared into the door behind her.

Shikamaru couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that flew over him, nor could he stop his feet from running toward the shop. He needed to see her.

When he reached his goal, he saw her through the window, smiling at the man over the counter as she grabbed a small bag from him. Wrapped up in a tartan scarf and big fluffy coat, chunky boots at her feet instead of the smart ones she wore at her office, he couldn’t help but stare at her in awe. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how cold the air was, his hands started to grow clammy with nerves.

“Hey,” she said, smiling with the guiltiest look on her face. “I’m sorry—I had to get food.” She stuffed a chip into her mouth. “Kankuro and his girlfriend wanted to be alone and I was not going to argue, and I couldn’t cook anything.”

Blushing, and hoping it would pass off as the wind burning his cheeks, Shikamaru shook his head, tapping his foot. “No worries. I won’t keep you long.”

“It’s fine,” sighed Temari, “but we should probably go somewhere...not here.”

“Why?”

“Well, not to be a downer but I would be sacked if anyone who I work with found out I did this, and our receptionist lives just round the corner, so...”

Shikamaru nodded. “I get it. Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“No!” she interrupted, just a little too quickly. “Just follow me.”

As they began to walk, Shikamaru couldn’t help smiling into the scarf around his neck, hoping she couldn’t see. It was a weird feeling—he felt so calm in her presence that he’d almost forgotten outright what it was that was bothering him. “Thank you,” he said, trying not to let the situation become silent too quickly. “I was just feeling so low and, well, I know you help me.”

“I get it.” Temari smiled, offering out the bag containing her dinner. “Have some.”

“I already ate,” he lied.

“Oh, okay.”

She seemed disheartened, and Shikamaru’s heart dropped. Out of habit he whipped out his cigarettes and put one to his lips, reaching into his pocket for his lighter, but, as he did so, he caught her staring out the corner of his eye.

“Are you not alright with cigarettes?”

Temari looked taken aback, clearly believing he hadn’t seen her. She quickly busied herself eating and shook her head. “Oh, sorry. No. You do whatever.”

The tiny flame illuminated his face in such a way that she could see every little detail; the tiny little smile lines around his mouth, the varying shades of brown that rampaged in his eyes, and the sharpness of each of his features. He shivered as he took in his first drag of the cigarette, and Temari couldn’t help opening her mouth. “You’re not warm enough.”

“You sound like my mother,” he chuckled, a small smoke cloud coming out as he spoke. “I’m fine.”

“You’re skin and bone. You’ve not got any fat on you to keep you warm, Shikamaru.” She shook her head. “And fingerless gloves don’t do much for keeping you warm.”

“But they do work better for using my lighter.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re a smoker?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Because I told you the other day that I was.”

“No, I mean, a smoker smoker. You’re not just a casual, have a ciggy when I need one kind of guy, are you?” she quizzed. “You constantly do it, don’t you? You reek of smoke. Constantly.”

“Thank you for the confidence boost.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” she groaned. “I love the smell of smoke.”

“So do I.”

“I guessed.”

He chuckled. “You came here to listen to me, not grill me about my habits.”

“I’m not grilling you!”

The chuckle grew to a full blown grin and he took another drag. “You’re funny, Temari.”

She frowned. “I’m not funny, I’m just talking.”

“I know,” he mumbled, cigarette poking out the corner of his mouth. “It’s just that you act like you’re hard but you’re obviously a softie.”

“I’m not—”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“Why is it funny then?”

His dark eyes shifted and locked with hers, bright and beautiful before he sped up. “Doesn’t matter.”

Temari huffed and walked faster to catch up with him. They neared the end of the road, at which stood an entrance to a small park, littered with benches. The trees were so luscious here; evergreen and beautiful, living through the winter. As they stepped through the gates and into the greenery, she had reached the bottom of her bag of food, Temari found it difficult to read Shikamaru. He walked slightly ahead, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching the remains of his cigarette between two fingers.

“So, you want to talk to me?”

He didn’t turn. “Mhmm.”

“Talk then,” she chuckled, impatiently. “I could get in serious trouble, and I just want to know something good came from this.”

Shikamaru’s feet shuffled to a halt and he looked up at the sky through the gaps in the trees. “I was thinking all day about what you said; about me having destructive thinking patterns.”

“Okay.” Temari slowly parked herself beside him and shared his view. “And?”

“And I was trying to think about what they are, especially after I saw your brother in the bakery.”

Temari blushed. “Yeah he told me about that. I’m so sorry about him.”

“That’s the thing, I didn’t feel like he did anything wrong. He was intense, sure, but I felt like I was being...I dunno, a bit of a dick for not talking to him much.” He turned, looking down into her eyes. “I just told him I didn’t think that we were meant to talk, and then I felt like I’d ruined his day.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. Perfectly aware of that. But I couldn’t just separate myself from it.”

“I understand,” Temari sighed. “Maybe you’re not as much of a puzzle as I thought you were, Shikamaru.”

He bit down on his lip and looked away, fishing out another cigarette from his pocket.

“I thought you were going to have all these deep rooted and unsolvable issues,” she smiled, hoping he’d see her. But he didn’t turn. “Thing is, I think you just want everybody to be happy.”

Shikamaru shrugged, lighting the stick of tobacco and puffing on it.

“You do, don’t you? You want everyone to be happy, and you feel like you stop that happening.”

“I guess so,” he mumbled. “But that’s not important enough a feeling to make someone feel like they want to...you know...”

Temari shook her head. “No, it can be. Everyone has different intensities of emotion.”

He smirked and started to wander off, cigarette glued to his mouth and arms hand raised as though greeting someone. “Hi,” he said, as if on a game show, “I’m Shikamaru Nara and I want to die because I can’t bring world peace.” He turned and looked at her in disbelief, half smiling to keep his smoke in place. “I’m sorry, Tem, but that’s bollocks.”

Temari felt her heart flutter. Only her brothers these days called her Tem, but the feeling of Shikamaru casually talking to her, calling her by a nickname on instinct...well, that felt worryingly normal; worryingly nice.

Clearly he’d noticed the surprised look on her face. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Temari, I meant.”

“No.” She stepped towards him, her expression warm and welcoming. “Tem is fine.”

“Sure?”

“Sure,” she sighed. “Just maybe don’t make blasé statements like that, yeah?”

“But it just doesn’t seem like—”

“Shikamaru?” Her interruption was brutally sharp. “Can I have a smoke?”

He raised his eyebrows, holding back a laugh in shock. “After you just grilled me about—”

“I didn’t grill you!”

“Surely you don’t smoke.”

“I socially smoke. When I drink and it’s cold.”

Shikamaru let his hand fall into his pocket. “You’re not drinking.”

“But it is freezing cold. Come on,” she begged. “It’s the least you can do.”

“The least I could do would be to give you a drag of mine,” he chuckled.

Sighing, Temari stepped closer and looked up into his eyes. “That’ll do, if they’re that precious to you.”

Amazed, he took it from his mouth and handed it over, hiding himself in his scarf once again. He watched as Temari took a drag and held it back out to him, letting the smoke drift as she breathed out, and looked her dead in the eye.

It was pure torture how beautiful she was. Never had Shikamaru felt compelled to tell a woman that she was beautiful, or ask her for coffee; never until now, with the exact woman that it was totally impossible to ask that. With a smile he took back the cigarette, breathing in before handing it straight back, only to be greeted by the happiest of subtle smiles on Temari’s face.

“Did I tell you about the woman who tried to sleep with me?”

Temari almost choked on the smoke she inhaled. “Wow, that sounds like a corny movie line. I’m sure many have.”

“Har, har.” He snatched his cigarette. “Three therapists ago I had a woman, like you but much weirder and she spent half of our sessions flirting with me instead of helping.”

“And why has this moment reminded you of that, exactly?” She had to try not to giggle at his description of time passing in terms of therapists.

He shrugged. “I guess just ��cause you’re an attractive woman.” His tone was as callous as it could be and, in his heart of hearts, he prayed she’d see through to his true intentions.

Instead she shook her head, laughing. “I mean, that’s awful, and I can promise you right now I will not be doing that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

He took a drag and passed it back.

But she is beautiful…

She took a drag and passed it back.

He’s just so handsome…

He closed his eyes and turned, passing it straight to her. “You finish it,” he insisted.

I should go. But I don’t want to leave her here…

“No, it’s yours,” Temari argued, holding it between them.

If I finish it, and he’s finished talking, I have no reason to stay…

“Seriously,” he mumbled, edging closer by a couple of shuffling steps. “It’s yours, Tem.”

I’m yours, Tem…

Slowly, she put it to her lips, smirking. “So you’re okay?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Well, if by that you mean—”

“I mean other than the general misery that sometimes comes with being depressed,” she butted in with a smile. “Other than that are you okay?”

Warmly he smiled. “I suppose so. I don’t know how you do it though.”

“Do what?”

He averted his eyes, scuffing his boots against the floor. “Well, I dunno. It’s a drag but you always calm me down somehow. I felt so...” A gentle chuckle fluttered from his lips. “I guess, really het up—really on edge, you know. But when I saw you and we started talking to you, I faded away a bit.”

“Met me as in first met me or today?”

“Both.”

Temari couldn’t stop herself smiling. “You’re very sweet underneath everything.”

“Um!” he replied, offended as his head shot up. “The fuck do you mean ‘underneath everything’?”

“Oh shut up,” she giggled, reaching out and gently placing her hand on his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Shikamaru shook his head, eyes fixed on hers. “You’re a bitch.”

“I’m not.”

“No, you’re right,” he admitted, grinning into his scarf, hidden from her. “You’re not.”

Shikamaru slowly reached up and placed his hand on Temari’s atop his shoulder, pursing his lips. Even through her gloves he could feel the warmth of her hands, and he rubbed the back of her fingertips gently with his thumb. The moment wouldn’t last long, he knew that, and so he had to cherish it; this ability to look into her eyes and her look right back, her smile at him humorously without a trace of pity, all while her hand was beneath his, tucked in tight.

Finally, Temari wriggled her hand free, blushing—or at least he thought she was. It was probably just the cold. She shot him a gentle smile and stepped back, taking one final drag from the cigarette in her hand. “Shall I, um,” she faltered. “Shall I try and book you in some time this week? So we can talk before next Monday?”

“Yes.” He nodded a little too enthusiastically. “I’d, um, appreciate that.”

“I’ll text you if I can get it changed, okay? I’ll tell the receptionist to try at your parents request.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ll, um…” Temari pointed at the gate they came through. “I’ll go.”

“If you need to,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

Shikamaru shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t worry, Tem.” He gave her a somewhat wounded look, worried she felt as awkward as he thought she did. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Definitely.”
 Waving, she spun around and paced toward the park entrance, and as he watched her walk away, her ponytail swishing violently, he started to slowly shuffle backwards. His body was doing all it could to stop him—to run after her and grab her hand and ask her to stay—but he could just about control his feet to move the other way, despite the reaching of hi stomach. He refused to turn around, praying that somehow, before she made it to the gate, she would turn around and come back. Still, he noticed his wishful thinking.

While she wasn’t running back, Temari did turn her head and smile at him, raising her hand slowly in a wave. By default, he raised his back, grinning in her general direction, even past the moment she span around and walked away. Fishing out of his pocket another smoke and his phone, he opened it up and began to type a message.

‘Thank you for that, Tem. I needed that. Do you maybe want to go for coffee next—’

For a second, he stopped, letting out a deep breath so warm to the cold air it rivalled his smoke clouds. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t ask her something like that! Not now, not ever.

So, with a heavy heart Shikamaru held down the backspace key and shuffled toward the other end of the park slowly. Maybe one day she’d realise, but he couldn’t hold out hope for that—her job was to help him, and he had no doubt that she would, but it didn’t make it any kinder on his heart that he couldn’t help her with her woes, too.

[littledreamybeth]

Tears & Fear

Okay this one is so messed up but blame it on my feelings! I recommend to listen to “Stockholm Syndrome” while reading because this song kinda inspired me to write this imagine. I don’t know how you feel about it so let me know! Picture is not mine and the GIFs belong to @stylesinthewild! Thank you for letting me use them! One question: Can you understand Y/N and the way she acted? I’d like to know!

Something wasn’t right. Something was definitely off with Y/N.  She had been acting completely strange for a whole week for some reason. Harry couldn’t tell what exactly was wrong with her but he was absolutely sure that she somewhat tried to distance herself from him.

First, he didn’t really notice her change of behavior. She only had been very still and not very talkative. However, the lack of interaction they had in the last couple of days caught Harry’s attention after a while. He realised that they only exchanged a few words throughout this time which consisted of “How are you?”, “Are you hungry?” and “I’m at the studio”. Harry thought it was because of her recent working shifts till late hours and maybe she had been too fatigued to handle a conversation with him. Amongst other things, he wanted her to rest instead and they could always talk the day after anyways.

That’s what he thought. But Y/N proved him wrong. It almost seemed like she intentionally wanted to avoid him. Whenever he entered the room, she made sure to go to another and sometimes she didn’t even greet him fully like she always used to do when he came home- with a hug and a kiss on his lips. Harry missed that physical touch.

Sometimes she didn’t even look at him in the eyes when he was trying to talk to her, searching for something else to lock eyes with. And when Harry tried to reach out to her, asking her if everything was okay, she just let out a nervous laugh and claimed she was finer than she ever could be.

He knew she was lying which stung badly but never pressured her into talking to him, I mean if she had a problem or something bothering her she would come to him by herself. Besides, he thought maybe she was going through a phase – she often had one- and just needed some alone time to gather her thoughts and be the old Y/N again.

At week two, Harry finally decided to break the ice at dinner. Not a single word was spoken between them, they just silently ate their meal. Well, at least Harry did. Y/N just sat there, one hand rested against her cheek while she poked around in her plate with her thoughts being miles away from their apartment.

“Y/N?”

When she didn’t reply, Harry tried once again.

“Earth to Y/N. Are you still with me, miss?” He waved at her.

She lifted her head when she perceived his movements on the other side of the table. Furrowing her eyebrows at him, she let out a short, “I’m sorry?”

“What’s going on with you recently? Is something bothering you?”

Y/N just shrugged her shoulders. “I’m tired, that’s all. Work is taking a toll on me.”

“Come on, love. We both know that’s not the entire truth. You can talk to me, you know that.”

Harry didn’t miss to see the glistening in her eyes, making him worry about her condition and before he could say anything further, she rose from her chair and took the plate in her hands, placing it on the sink.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight.” she said bluntly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“But it’s not even nine PM and what about our movie night? We already skipped last week because you claimed you weren’t feeling well.”

“Harry, please, I’m not in the mood right now.”

“You’re not in the mood to do anything with me for what two weeks?” He commented with a sarcastic undertone.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She ignored what he said before and left him all alone with his thoughts drowning his mind.

The desire to continue eating was gone as soon as Y/N went away and out of anger because she refused to talk to him, Harry threw his fork on his plate with all the force he had. She had never been like this so what in god’s name was going on?

But as we know Harry, he was never willing to give up until he put a smile on the faces of people that he loved. Right after placing his own food next to Y/N’s, he made his way to their bedroom in which Y/N fled into not even five minutes ago.

He knocked on the door to make sure she knew that he was there and then let himself in.

“Love, can we talk please? I really don’t understand why you’re so off lately. Y/N? Why are you crying?” He immediately ran towards the bed on which she sat, her upper body resting on her knees and her arms being wrapped around her legs.

She felt the bed shifting under Harry’s pressure but when he intended to bring her body into a warm embrace she stopped him in a second.

“Don’t! Please, I- I want to be alone.”

“What happened, Y/N? What made you cry, love? Why won’t you tell me?”

“Please, don’t ask, just leave me be. I wanna be alone.”

“Love-“

“Out! Get out!” she said by interrupting him harshly, pointing at the door. Harry’s heart broke in an instant due to the harshness she was treating him with. He only wanted to help because hell he cared for her so much.  Was he doing wrong? Shouldn’t a man comfort his woman when she was in distress?  Nevertheless, he let her mourn whatever she was mourning over and if she wanted to be alone there was nothing left for him except to live with her decision.

He went back to the other side of the room, grasping the handle of the door. He didn’t exit the room before Y/N knew how much he loved her despite the quick argument they had. “I love you, petal. I’m at the study if you need me.”

If he just realised what kind of emotions his words had triggered in Y/N. Once he was out of reach, she couldn’t contain another wave of tears and went back to her crying mode. She slipped under the covers despite being still dressed in her normal clothes but she was too drained of her strength to get changed.

She turned on the radio on her nightstand. The first melody to the song she was listening to now along with Harry’s voice hit her ears. No matter how much she kept listening to this special song, it always managed to make her cry for two weeks straight. When Harry wasn’t at home but in the studio instead, she would turn it on and cry for hours. It was not the entire lyrics she could identify herself with but just a few phrases which applied to her emotional state.

“Who’s this whisper telling me that I’m never gonna get away?”

Stockholm Syndrome described perfectly her inner debate that she had for so many days. The “whisper” in her case was her emotion, her love for Harry, telling her she would never gonna get away from him. All this time, Y/N was being cold to Harry because she realised that she was on her way to become a lot dependent of him. She could never live without him. She was so emotionally bonded to him that her love for this human being tore her apart. It hurt so much but yet was so beautiful at the same time. She would have done everything for him.

“But I feel I’m getting used to being held by you”

This line described how there was no way she could escape from Harry’s cage made of pure love because she knew he would never let her run away from him. He had her completely under his power and Y/N would never want to resist breaking out which made everything even more complicated.

“Baby look what you’ve done to me /Baby you’ve got me tied down”

“Baby I’ll never leave if you keep holding me this way”

If she couldn’t find a way out of this dependence she would be lost, at least that’s what she thought.

“Yeah I fell for you...”

“I love you, too...” she choked, her heart hurting so much that she struggled to breathe. “So, so much.”

She cried the entire night, lulling herself to sleep this way.

 Meanwhile, Harry was sitting in his study, scribbling something in his diary. Jeff had texted him if he wanted to join them to go out however he couldn’t live with himself knowing that he left Y/N alone with her situation. So he declined the offer.

After midnight, he chose it was the perfect time to stop his doings and finally join his love in their bed. It is an understatement to tell how much he wanted to be with her when yearning is the exact word to describe how he felt. He yearned for her. There was only a certain amount of time in which he could endure without her presence however his limit was already crossed a few hours ago. Whatever it was that bothered Y/N and made her push him away, left him in complete darkness and gnawed on his mind. For five hours straight, Harry was thinking about what he could’ve possibly done that she shoved him away and to be honest it made him damn crazy. Not knowing why and what your girlfriend was crying over is enough to make you wanna rip your hair off your head.

Her behavior confused him. Whenever she felt upset or down she always gladly accepted his attempts for a comforting embrace until she would relax and feel better again but this time she didn’t even gave him a chance trying to soothe her. The way she had reacted gave Harry even more determination to find out what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

Rubbing over his eyes, Harry shut his diary close in which he wrote down some new songs ideas and placed it in the drawer of his writing desk.  Standing up from his chair, he left his study and went straight ahead to their bedroom.

The lyrics to “Stockholm Syndrome” hit his ears when he arrived at their private paradise, sending Harry to a complete bewilderment because she still had that song on permanent loop. But why? What was special about it so that Y/N kept and kept listening to it for hours? He couldn’t know. The only solution was to ask her himself.

He carefully opened the door and peeked through the door gap just to find his girlfriend covered in the thick blankets. A sheet of handkerchiefs decorated her bedside table, indicating of how much she must have cried throughout these hours.

“Y/N?” he called for her but when he got no response in return, he assumed she probably fell asleep.

Therefore, he switched the radio off, leaving the room in complete silence.

Observing her profoundly, his heart pained at the sight of her. The image that was provided to him left him utterly speechless. The spot under her eyes and her cheeks were totally red from her crying, redder than anything he had seen before, her lips chapped and bitten until they bled. She breathed through her mouth because of her blocked nose and her fingers tightly clung onto the bed sheets.

She was a mess and it literally shocked him to see this side of her. Entirely broken and lost.

His hand reached out to her head, softly wandering through the strands of her hair. Such a simple gesture as this was filled with so much love and devotion for the sleeping beauty in front of him.

“Why wouldn’t you talk to me, love?” he sighed, then got up to get changed from his daily clothes into his pajamas. He neatly folded his shirt and jeans and put them back to their usual place in his dresser.

With his bare feet, he tiptoed back to the bed after he turned off the lights, lifted up the covers and slipped beside the woman he loved. A wave of relief washed over him now that he was able to hold her again. He spooned her from behind, wrapping his arms firmly but yet gently around her waist and pressing himself against her back. His face nuzzled her neck, one of his favorite places. His lips touched the bare skin of her shoulder. Leaving a content breath, he felt his limbs slowly getting start to become heavy.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice called for him in the dark. Her sudden talking took him by surprise as he was about to fall asleep. He thought she slept already but what he wasn’t aware of was that Y/N woke up as soon as he had entered the room.  He opened his eyes again.

“Hmm?”

“Let go.”

His head, which rested comfortably on the cushion before, shot up in an instant. What the hell? He turned on the light on his nightstand beside him. Furrowing his eyebrows confusedly, he moved forward so he could have a better view on the side of her face. There, he discovered that she had her eyes trained on the large bookshelf opposite of their bed.

“Excuse me?”

“I said let go. Please let go of me.” she said with her voice laced in a monotone tune, not pointing any hint of emotion.

“Why is that, love?”

“Just let go.”

“Did I do something for you to push me away?” he said, slightly angered, untangling his arms from her body. “Because if there’s anything then I have no fucking clue what I did.”

“Don’t be a baby because I won’t let you hold me, Harry. And no you did absolutely nothing.”

“What is this about then?”

“You’re asking too many questions tonight.”

“Because you gave me no other choice, for fucks sake!” Y/N flinched at the sudden rise of his voice. “For almost two fucking weeks, you kept ignoring me and never talked to me except if I talked to you. Fuck, you didn’t even look at my face so how can I not feel like I’ve done something for you to behave like this?”

“Stop, Harry. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to disappoint you miss, but that’s exactly what were gonna do now. We’re gonna talk, whether you want it or not.”

The next second, Y/N jumped out of the bed, throwing the covers aside which hit Harry’s face without hurting him. Harry was shocked about her outburst.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. This is too much!” Y/N sobbed into her hands, then immediately ran out of the room to the guest room next door.

Harry was hot on her heels. He couldn’t tell enough how his girlfriend’s behavior just confused him.

He heard how Y/N locked the door, shutting him out.

“Y/N! Open this god damn door before I crack it!” Harry screamed, punching hardly against the door and getting even desperate every passing second. “Come on, love! Open up!”

“Go away, please just go away! I don’t want to see you!” He perceived her muffled cries from the other side.

“Love, I’m worried about you, can’t you see that? Tell me what I did and I swear I’m gonna leave.”

The fast the door was locked, the fast it was opened again, with Y/N having a distraught expression attached on her face. Her eyes spit nothing but fear and worry. She shook her head in denial.

“No.. no no no no no.. Don’t leave... Don’t leave… Don’t leave… Don’t do that to me… please…”

She tugged at her hair, almost ripping those strands off her head and Harry was afraid she could hurt herself.

“Yell at me, scream at me, punch me in the face but don’t leave me, I’m begging you,” she choked, her breath labored and her heart paining and aching terribly.

“Hey, I would never leave you, love. I didn’t mean it like that.” Harry stepped closer to her.

“Easy, love, at ease,” Harry said, grasping the apple of her cheeks despite the tears that were streaming from her eyes and stroking them gently. Her breath faltered the more she cried and Harry noticed that if he wouldn’t find a way to calm her down, she may have a panic attack. He had her face firmly between his palms now, forcing her to lock eyes with him.

“Breathe, love, just breathe for me,” he ordered. “In and out, in and out. You’re doing so well, baby.” He pecked her slight sweaty forehead, assuring her that he was there for her and that everything was going to be fine.

“It hurts,” Y/N choked, feeling her pain tightening her lungs and cutting her from getting access to oxygen. “It hurts so much, Harry. I can’t take it anymore!”

“What hurts, baby? Tell me what’s bothering you. Let me help you.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” she rambled on and on, clinging onto his body, her hand fisting the material of his shirt while she cried on his shoulder.

Harry didn’t understand the world anymore.  Was Y/N really crying because she loved him?

“I love you too, love. But what’s going on?” he asked nervously.

Y/N pulled away so she could look at his face. Her fingers played with the little hair at the end of his neck. She observed his beautifully sculptured features which shot another stream of theirs into her eyes. Her lower lip trembled enormously.

“I’m afraid, Harry.“ Her voice cracked. “I’m afraid of my own feelings. I’m afraid of loving you.”

Harry bent forward to capture their lips to a kiss. He felt like it was all she needed to relax. But deep down, he was still utterly confused.

“I don’t understand, love,” he stated. “Please, explain.”

Y/N, finally getting the control of her body back, took a deep breath from her nose before she replied, also giving him an answer why she acted the way she did throughout these days.

“What I feel for you is more than I can handle and it scares me. It scares me how much I love you. You- You’re gonna leave me. You’re either gonna leave me for somebody else or you gonna die on me one day but it’ll happen one way or another and I don’t know if I can deal with such a loss. I don’t know what I would do and I’m so anxious about it. Harry, my love for you is wider than the entire universe. Damn, if only words were enough to describe how I feel about you but they’re not. I don’t want to love you if it means it’s going to drag me down eventually. I don’t want to love you more than you will ever love me, Harry.”

Harry had the urge to laugh, but there was absolutely nothing to laugh about it. The whole time he thought he messed up something. However, the words Y/N spoke stung terribly. “I don’t want to love you more than you will ever love me” kept repeating in his mind. How could she say something like that? Didn’t she know already that Harry was willing to give everything up for her? That he would tear down the entire world for her?

“First of all, there is no way that you can love me more because I love you more than a man can ever love a woman. Y/N you make me so happy and so madly in love with you, I don’t even understand why you worry so much. You’re stuck with me forever, beautiful. I will never give you away because you’re mine and always will be. I wished you would have talked to me sooner about your feelings.”

“I’m not gonna force you to make a promise you can’t probably keep. It’s neither fair to you or me.”

“Do you doubt my love for you?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking nonsense. I already told you that you belong to me once and forever.”

“I’m sorry I was a bitch to you,” Y/N said sheepishly. She needed to make it up to him in the shortest time possible.

“Ahh, I’m not having you cursing at yourself, love. I’d rather know what had triggered this sort of feelings in you because this doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

“Both of my best friends lost their boyfriends and their relationships were the ones I admired the most. They were perfectly in love with each other just as we are, but then everything went downhill. One died in a car crash and the other one ended things with my friend. I couldn’t help but compare us to them. And it made me realise how much you have me wrapped around your finger,” Y/N confessed, slinging her arms around Harry’s body and pressing him against her.

“I won’t leave you anytime soon, love. I’d put my hand in the fire for that.”

He connected his lips lovingly to hers, showing all his love and affection with one single kiss.

Back in their bed , Harry was lying beneath her and she had her head rested on his chest. One of his hands ran softly through her locks while he let his other on run up and down her back soothingly. Y/N listened to the beating of his heat and felt the vibrations of his voice as he hummed the lyrics to “Just a little bit of your heart” that he wrote for another artist. The soft tune coming from his mouth lulled her to sleep.

“Just a little bit of your heart/ Just a little bit of your heart/ Just a little bit of your heart is all I want

Just a little bit of your heart/ Just a little bit of your heart/ Just a little bit is all I’m asking for...”

[welcome2theneighborhood]

A Dad’s Life

Chapter 3: Breakfast for Dinner

Dean Vásquez needs a new job, and he needs one quick!

Read on AO3

The ride home felt longer than it should’ve been. You have to tell him at some point, said a little voice in the back of my head. But I was in no rush to admit to my recovering workaholic partner that I might be out of a job soon.

“It’s cold out,” I mumbled. The chill was a good excuse for my feeling more closed off tonight than usual. I didn’t have to explain why my lips were shut tight, or why my arms were crossed against my chest, or my face buried in my scarf. I wondered what it was like down in Florida. Always warmer, of course. This was the one thing I missed about visiting my parents for the holidays. I’d checked the weather earlier for Chicago: thirty-five when Amanda and Morgan and Nameless Baby left this morning. Warmer than it was here this morning, but she’d be missing most of the midwest cold over the next couple of weeks.

I looked over at Craig, who wasn’t nearly bundled up enough. “Why aren’t you dressed warmer?”

“It got too hot in the car on the way back.”

I looked around for any evidence of winterwear. Nope. Just a couple of empty juice boxes and a stuffed toy River had left in the carseat. Not Arnold, thank goodness.

We pulled back into my driveway, and I was ready to squeeze in a quick nap before Amanda got home, but a ruckus at Joseph’s house next door caught our attention.

“Go on inside.” Craig was just getting out of the driver’s seat and heading right over to the Christiansen house. “I’m just gonna check out what’s going on.”

I stood there a moment, shivering, before deciding to join him. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do until ten, and keeping myself busy would help keep my mind off unsavory events of the day.

Joseph pretty reasonably kept his front door locked, both to keep strangers out and rowdy children in. Craig knocked on the door, and I rang the bell, looking for something to do. It was a full minute before Joseph greeted us, looking flustered, Crish under his arm and squirming to be set free. Joseph plastered on a wide grin just as something crashed in the kitchen. “Evening, gents! Wasn’t expecting you two here tonight.”

I peeked around him. “Having trouble putting the kids to bed?”

Joseph deflated like a balloon. “Yes.”

“No worries, bro! You know I’m a professional twin wrangler.”

I felt the need to offer up my services as well. “And I could, um, read a bedtime story to Crish or something.”

Joseph’s eyes lit up with gratitude, and he was immediately passing the four-year-old to me. I managed to hold on. Even though he was almost three years older, Crish wasn’t much more of a hassle than River on her more difficult days, so he wasn’t too much on his own. But I could only imagine what it was like with Christian and Christie running around, and Chris on top of that. Joseph certainly did have his hands full around here.

“You two are life savers. I think Christian is hiding in the laundry room, but I’ve lost track of Christie. Chris is already in bed so I think between the three of us we can get them rounded up and put to bed.”

“Alright, let’s do it!”

Craig’s enthusiasm was at least a little contagious. My hold was starting to wear Crish down a little, and he started to settle against my shoulder. But I knew this game. The second I let my guard down he’d be up and off. So I rubbed his back a little but kept a firm grip.

Joseph and Craig went off in search of the twins, and I settled on the couch with Crish. There were some storybooks conveniently lying around on the coffee table, so I picked one up and started reading a child-firiendly version of David and Goliath. Crish seemed pretty enthralled in the book, which would’ve been great if I wasn’t trying to get him to sleep.

A half hour later I finally had him sleeping, and I wasn’t the only one. Joseph and Craig came around the corner, talking quietly, each with one of the twins asleep or near asleep in their arms.

“They haven’t even been behaving better for Christmas.”

“You should try one of those elf things.”

“What?”

“Um, those elf on a shelf things. Some of the softball moms use it for their kids to get them to behave. You put it somewhere where it watches the kids and then the elf, uh, relays information back to Santa.”

Joseph hummed. “I might have to try that… It might be too late for this year, though. Are you two coming on Sunday?”

Craig looked at me, deferring to my answer. “Yeah, we’ll be there.”

Joseph smiled brightly. “Amanda’s coming home tonight, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she is. Her girlfriend, too, and her girlfriend has a baby she’s bringing.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You’ll have a full house again. How long are they staying?”

“They go back to school in late January. They’re staying until I think three, four days before classes start back up.”

“We’ll have to get together plenty while they’re here!” It was amazing the excitement he could convey in a whispered tone, but I guess that was just part of being a dad. Or a parent in general. I couldn’t know what it’s like to be a mom. Maybe I could ask Morgan. “Could you carry Crish upstairs with us, Dean?”

I nodded and stood carefully. The boy shifted a little but didn’t wake up, fortunately. Both twins were fast asleep by now. And if there was anything I knew was in every dad’s repetoire, it was carrying a sleeping child to bed and getting them settled without disturbing them.

We got all the Christiansen kids down for the night. Joseph thanked us and offered some of the day’s baked goods in exchange for our help. But neither of us were hungry, and we hadn’t been looking for a reward, anyway. “Just helping out a fellow dad,” I insisted.

Craig and I headed back to my place.

“I wonder where Mary is…”

“Bro, we don’t need to go talking about their life…”

I nodded, agreeing. It really wasn’t any of our business, though both of us knew we couldn’t help having opinions about the situation. I knew what my opinion was. I didn’t know his. I could only guess; knowing Craig, they were probably the same.

I kind of wished I hadn’t turned down the cookies. I was still feeling kind of hungry even after the pizza and ice cream. The stress must’ve really been getting to me. Just as Craig plopped down on the couch next to me, my stomach growled louder than the TV I had turned on. He looked at me with some confusion and greater concern, and I just shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t eat anything but the pizza and ice cream today.”

I knew Craig, the old as well as the new. He didn’t believe in eating past seven except on rare occasions, but he was really good at making exceptions for me, and still never judged my less healthy habits. “No, bro, sit down, I’ll whip something up!” He sprung up and was in the kitchen before I’d even finished standing. I could hear him already rummaging through the cabinets.

I moved to the kitchen doorway and watched him scavenge what he could find. I watched the concentration on his face, gears turning in his head as he improvised our second dinner. I just leaned against the wall, smiling a little. “What did I do to deserve you…”

He laughed and pointed a spoon at me. “I’m not the lucky one, bro.”

I smiled a little more, and once he’d settled in front of the stove, I moved to stand behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I’d be a dirty liar if I said I didn’t take a chance to run one hand over his abs through his shirt, just a little bit. “Y’know?” I hummed quietly against his shoulder. “I thought I was pretty cursed for a long time?”

He turned his head toward me, but didn’t manage an Exorcist-move and only made it halfway. “What do you mean?”

“Up until college nothing seemed to ever be going my way. You know I always wanted a sibling? Grew up an only child.”

He laughed softly and returned his attention to chopping some vegetable I didn’t remember buying. I swear he was trying to sneak healthy food into my house. “Same, dude.”

“And then I got a dog, but my dog died in high school. And by then I didn’t have any more friends so I was just super lonely all the time.”

“And then you came to college and broke out of your shell. Proud of you.”

I kissed his shoulder. “I have you to thank for a lot of that.”

I could kind of hear his smile. He cracked an egg into the sizzling pan.

“Omelets! You know me so well.”

“You can never go wrong with breakfast for dinner.”

We stayed silent while he finished cooking, but I was clinging to him like a baby koala. We went and ate in the living room. I checked the time. A little after nine. “Amanda will be here soon.”

“Excited?”

“Of course I am! But I’m also… nervous.”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

I shrunk in on myself a little, but managed to keep my plate balanced on my knee. “I can’t imagine how much she might’ve changed in her first semester, and especially with her being so far away. She’s really growing up. I remember my -our- first semester of college and we were very much still kids at the end of all that. And pretty much all through college. But Amanda… she’s more grown up than I ever could’ve hoped for her at this age. I mean, what kind of mature influence might Morgan be having on her? Morgan has a kid and everything. I had a hard enough time dealing with a baby at 26, let alone 20!”

“This all sounds like a good thing, bro. She’s mature for her age, and not because she had to be. Because you raised her to be ready to do it on her own.”

I picked at my omelet. It must’ve been clear that I wasn’t as hungry as I’d been just a bit earlier, because Craig put both our plates aside and pulled me into his arms.

“I’m kind of jealous, bro. I hope my girls turn out as well as Amanda did under your wing.”

I hugged him back, tight. We sat there for what felt like both forever and not long enough, when--

“Pops! I’m home!”

[artificialqueens]

July (Trixya) - Kat Astrophe

A/N: hi! this is my first time submitting here, not my first time writing fanfiction though. i know this is a bit of a sad (and messy) introduction to my writing but, i hope you guys still enjoy it.

tw: suicide

in which Katya makes a little journal full of memories.

July 17th

It’s currently nine in the morning, I’m exhausted, but I wanted to get started on this before you woke up.

Hi, Trix. You’re probably reading this right now, I mean. I hope it’s you. I’m not sure who else would be reading this but anyways, hi. I love you. I’m going to be sneaking this into your bag when you leave for Wisconsin, so you’re probably in your parent’s house right now. I hope things are going well.

So, last month.

It was amazing, wasn’t it? The month itself wasn’t good, my allergies always act up during Spring. We were good. Both of us finally worked up the courage to tell each other how we feel, and let me tell you, I am so glad. Um, that’s not why I’m writing this though. I just wanted to write down everything we’ve done together since then.

I’m not writing everything, so wipe that smirk off your face.

Here goes nothing.

July 18th

The first thing we did together was go out on a date. It was so fun, Trix. Do you remember? I do. I remember everything, from the way you smiled when I called you ‘sunshine’, a nickname I still use often, to the way the food tasted. I remember the way your hand felt in mine, even the smell of your perfume.

You brought out the soft side of me, a side I didn’t even know existed. Who would’ve thought you of all people could turn me into the biggest romantic in the world? You’re the same way, I guess. I’m absolutely terrible at planning dates, meanwhile you make it some big event.

You remember the necklace you gave me on our third date, the one I never wear?

The one you think I threw out?

I keep it in the top drawer of my bureau, because I’m scared I’d somehow break it if I wore it. It’s too expensive, I still don’t understand why you spent so much money on me. I really don’t deserve it.

I’ve lost track here, sorry.

We decided to walk back after our first date, and halfway back to my apartment, it started storming. We ended up drenched, and we both got sick, but it was worth hearing you laugh. I’m still not sure why you thought me tripping and falling face first into a puddle of water was so funny, but we’re even because you fell off of my bed once and I laughed until tears were coming out of my eyes.

You’re really something else, Trixie.

July 19th

On our second date, we decided to go on a double date with Alaska and her girlfriend. You held my hand the entire time. I think it was out of nervousness, because you also kept tapping your nails against your glass. I hadn’t seen you nervous before, so I can’t say that was why you did it, but I’m just going to assume.

We sat at the window in my apartment until sunrise, just talking about everything. It was the first time we ever said I love you to each other. I said it first, on accident. You didn’t respond for a few minutes, which scared me and I almost started crying. And then you said it. It sounded so lovely coming from you, as if no one else had ever said it to me.

I love you.

July 20th

We didn’t have a fourth date. We thought it’d be silly, so we just stayed at home and I made dinner. It felt nice, just being with you. You complimented my cooking so many times, I was sure you were lying. You weren’t though, so you asked me to make dinner from then on. I have. So far, so good.

We sat in bed and ate an entire tub of ice cream together, while talking to each other. It was nice, and pleasant. You made me feel happier than I can remember ever being that night, just from being with me. I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.

July 21st

I’m kinda running out of things to write about. We don’t do much that involves anything more than just existing with each other, which isn’t that exciting on paper. We got a dog for your birthday, and I’m pretty sure you love her more than me. Don’t worry, it’s fine. You’ll need her. You’d make a great mom, you know.

Nothing is perfect. The day after the ice cream night, we got into a really bad fight. It ended up okay though, we both apologized because wow, are we stubborn. Lots and lots of cuddles happened after (and some other things), so it’s all good. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about, if I’m honest. I just remember how hurt you looked, nothing else.

Thank you for tolerating me.

July 22nd

Today’s the day you’re leaving!

Which means it’s time for this to come to an end.

I’m sorry, Trix. I really am.

We’ve discussed things so many times, you even offered to pay for therapy. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore, Trixie. Everything hurts. Happiness is a thing of the past, I can’t continue like this. I can’t live like this, baby. I’m sorry. I love you so, so much. Never forget me, okay?

Always yours, Katya Zamolodchikova

_____

Trixie’s eyes widened as she finished reading the last page. Tossing the book to the side, she reached for the phone on her nightstand, dialing Katya’s number, Trixie took deep breaths.

Katya didn’t answer.

Trixie’s heart sunk, and she felt tears pool in her eyes as she frantically re-dialed over and over, desperate for some sign that Roxie was just in the shower, or sleeping.

That sign never came. A call from Alaska a day after came instead, confirming Trixie that her worst fear had really come true. Trixie doesn’t think she’s ever heard Alaska sound so upset, and she doesn’t like it. The blonde is furious at Katya somehow, because God, how could she do this to her?

There’s a part of her that will always wish it had been her instead.

There’s a part of her that will always belong to Katya.

There’s a part of her that will always weep silently because no one holds her like Katya used to. No one kisses her like Katya.

No one will ever be able to replace her.

[amnachil]

The High School Game Part 10

Shirley DAY 82 Sunday

Vacations went well for the young girl. Despite being single (she missed Sam a lot, but could not do anything), she had some fun with her closest family. Unlike thanksgiving, they stayed without any guest. Also, she got enough time for training (she had a tournament the next sunday) and making her homeworks. Her dad offered her some clothes, and her mother a disk of her favourite singer. Dan gave her a big teddy bear (she loved and hated it because it was soft like Sam's tummy) and her twins sisters a drawing of her in a cemetary (which was weird, but well she feigned to be thankful). Now on Sunday, she went to her training. During the holidays, players were less abundent. She started her warm-up when she glimpsed Liam and his sister Chloe. The 7th grade student started her training while Shirley came closer to her brother. By the way, he was still the same V-shaped boy, with a big torso and flat stomach. They had become closer since he dated Jessy. She had learnt him how to fatten discretly his girlfriend, and he had gladly spread the rumour about Gregory ambitions. Yet, Raphaël did not react.

"Hey Shirley. What's up ?" he asked cheerfully.

She smiled.

"Holidays were welcome. I'm ready for my tourmanent now. What about you ? Had fun ?"

"Well, yes. My parents bought me a new videogame and a console."

"Sounds good."

Herself had no time for videogames. Homework and workout took the majority of her time.

"Honestly, it is." he stated. "I'm not ready to get back to work. With our teacher's conference coming this week and the monthly check-up, I'm a bit stressed."

She raised an eye brown. Why would he be stressed by the check-up ? He looks fine. Shirley weighted herself this morning : 53 kg. She managed to keep the same weight for almost four months now.

"Not my check-up." he clarified. "I gained 1 kg as far as I know. But Jessy check-up will be interesting... I can't wait to discover her gains."

Shirley slowly blushed. She was excited too. Obviously not by Jessy, but Sam would probably packed on some weight. Despite what he had been proclaiming, he had been spending more time gorging himself rather than exercising. His metabolism, as strong as he could be, had probably difficulties to catch up. I can't wait to see him... Her instructor called her, and she left Liam, who went back home.

This afternoon, at home, Shirley get ready for tomorrow. She quickly made her bag, and review a few lessons. I think the semester was fine but well... I had some passing grade the last month. Needless to say, her break-up with Sam spoiled her mentality, and she had studied less. A knock drew her attention.

"Com'in !"

Dan opened and smiled gently. He worn a black shirt skewed by his belly, rounder since christmas and New Year's celebrations. He ate a lot, exhibiting again his stomach capacities, and his body showed a bit. As always, his tummy took the most of it, hanging over his pants. But loves handles became more visible, and he had burgeonning man-boobs. Of course, while he was dressed, those changes were barely noticeable, except his round stomach. Shirley estimated his gains at more or less 3 kg since Thanksgiving. Wich mean he did the freshman 15 in six month instead of ten. The idea pleased her...

"Hey sis', I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, whatever you want."

He sat onto her bed, making his rolls even more visible. His thighs grew a bit too, as well.

"Well, okay sis'. Do you think I'm too fat ?"

Shirley opened her mouth, wanted to say something, shut her mouth. I can't tell him he is handsome. It will be too awkward. But it was what she thought.

"What are you saying bro' ? What would I think that ?"

"I weighted myself this morning." he explained. "I gained almost 3 kg in one month. After thanksgiving, I expected to slow down a little, but I can't control myself. Every single piece of food whet my appetite, and I'm snacking the whole day. Well, I don't feel ill at ease with myself, but... I fear people judgment."

"Someone insulted you ?"

She frowned, worried. No one had the right to assault her brother. And her thought went to the devil... Is Raphaël making fun of Dan ?

"No, absolutly not." replied this one. "Raphaël even tell me I was not that fat. He proclaimed college always fatten you a bit but... I don't know what will think other people."

She stared at him in amazement. Did he just said Raphaël reassured him ? What the fuck ? Their relationship is so weird.

"In my opinion bro', you're indeed not fat. With college come freshman 15, that's all. You're fine. I think you're even good-looking."

He nodded thoughtfully. Please, trust me. Don't try to lose weight, you don't need that.

"Okay, thanks sis'. I'll let you now. I'm glad you share the same opinion than me and Raphaël."

She smiled. I'm not sharing anything with this motherfucker. I still search a way to have my revenge.

Sam DAY 83 Monday

"81 kg."

81 kg. Eighty-one kilograms.

"Well, you gained 9 kg in one month. That's what I call a big gain."

9 kg. Nine fucking kilograms. Sam stayed on the scale, too stunned to move. His hand patted slowly his bulge. "Bulge". Rather my potbelly.

"But that's not a big deal. You're a young boy, we can deal with that."

The lad was thinking. Remembering about the last month. The Gregory's feeding sessions. His perpetual snacking. The diner, bigger every day. Mcdo and the junkfood he polished daily. His holidays, constitued of feast, videogames and snacks. Oh my god. What I've done ? He remembered the workout : he exercised the first week, a bit. Less the second. Never during the two of vacations. My god. Am I dumb or what ? He watched at his body in the mirror. The nurse, Ms. Lovely, was writing some bullshit on her notebook, ignoring him. Sam realized how different he was. His arms and legs were softer, without muscles but some fat blossoming. His face was chubbier than ever. His chest, instead of having pecs, was mostly fat, with two little man-boobs. And the worst, his belly was hanging over his trunks. It was plump, adipose, and the tummy was jiggling. Of course, it's not bloated. He realised the reason why his jeans were tight again. Why he was packed in his shirt, and why his sweatpants was so easier to dress. Every fucking time his pants were snug, he thought it was because he was stuffed, but a stuffed belly did not jiggle. The reason was quite more logic : Sam was fat. Way more fat than the last month. As the nurse said, he gained 9 kg. I can't be like this. The team will never accept this. They will fired me, and made fun of me. Oh my god, what I've done ?

"Well, in order to fight against this overweight, let's talk a little bit about diet." started the Ms. Lovely.

He stared at her, stunned.

"I guess you're eating a lot of junkfood like burger, fries or things like that. And you probably drink a lot energy drinks and maybe even beer. You need to cut off. Try to eat more vegetable, and light food."

Sam frowned. He remembered about the last month. He had a lot of fun eating two lunch at noon. He loved his mother's feast. He enjoyed donuts and snack. Plus, he remember the feeling of being stuffed. With chocolate mousse, and with the christmas buffet. It was so good. So pleasant. Did he was able to gave this feeling up ?

"And you need to do less videogames. More exercise. Try to run, or something like this. I thought you loved soccer ? Why don't pratice a bit ?"

Sam thought about workout. The time he spent exercising, and praticing. The feelings of the victory. And then, he thought about the feeling of rubbing his belly. Of overstuffing session. His dick instantly became harder. The lad discreetly hid his erection and asked :

"Am I really that fat ?"

"Not at all." answered the nurse. "You're a little overweight, that's all. Trust me everything is fine, every one can have some stoutness. This is nothing serious."

He nodded. I will have to make so much effort to get back in shape. Did he was capable of exercise all the time, and eat less ? The taste of the chocolate mousse remained in his mouth. He knew he lost his position in the team. He knew Raphaël would never forgive him, and the other would tease him for month. But he discovered a whole new kind of pleasure, and this was worthy.

Sam left the nurse's office during the break, and headed towards Raphaël and Greg. As he walked, the lad realised something. He was ready to give up his place, and to enjoy a new life of stuffing, but all of this was Greg fault. His "partner" fed him like hell during three weeks. And he offered him his laptop, which one Sam played the whole holidays instead of working out. I can't let him obtain what he wanted. This bastard was an ambitious motherfucker. He probably fattened me only to take my place beside Raphaël. Sam knew he had lost the captain friendship the moment he decided to not get back in shape but Greg had to pay. I think I have an idea. This cockcroach deserved a punition. An ironic punition. Sam sought Shirley : she was in a corner of the schoolyard, alone, looking at her phone. He headed for her while thinking. Honestly, the girl was less exciting than before : he still felt betrayed by her manipulation (sharing the same interest for food and well-fed bellies did not mean be reconciled). But in an other hand, he still had some feelings for her. After all, physically, she was still perfect for his taste, and he knew she was a nice girl, despite her penchant for handling. Anyway, he needed Lady B for his revenge, and he heard she had some disagreement with Greg too.

"Hi Shirley." Sam began. "How are you ? Your check-up went well ?"

She took a while to realize he was speaking to her. Slowly, the blond girl blushed and answered :

"Everything's fine... I... well... And you ?"

She is nervous... Not surprising. After all, he ignored her for a month. He patted his belly causing a jiggle and smiled.

"I heard some news I did not expected, but nothing too negative."

Sam was sure she blushed even more, if it was possible.

"However, I will sound weird but... I need your help Shirley. I understood Gregory manipulated me, and I want a revenge."

"Well, I already tried to set Raphaël against him through a rumour, but it did not work very well. I guessed Jessy's prank during christmas party was our captain idea, but he did not revendicate it."

"I have a better plan." affirmed Sam. "But I need your advice."

She understood quite instantly what he implied. With a smile, she asked :

"Of course. When are we beginning ?"

Gregory DAY 83 Monday

The lad took this resumption on with mixed feelings. On one hand, he was proud of himself : he exercised the whole holidays with Thomas (Raphaël's brother), and it showed some results. The nurse said he gained 2 kg of muscles, coming up to 70 kg. On the other hand, humiliated by Jessy, he lost a lot of popularity. Girls fled him, while boys named him the "perv". This was such a shame. Seeing this bitch, having fun with her boyfriend Liam, Gregory was enraged. How did she dare to manipulate him ? Two weeks after, he was still mad at her. This slut. She deserves a punition. He was already thinking about a public embarassement. Moreover, he had another matter to deal with. Now that Sam was a fatty stupid cow, the dark-haired lad wanted to left him alone during lunchtime. But he can't without Raphaël permission, or he will lose everything he built so far. Fuck off. I would be able to replace Raphaël by now without Jessy the whore. And Shirley. He hated Shirley. The blond girl meandered in the schoolyard like a princess, although she was nothing. I fucking hate this dumbass. She humiliated him as well. He needed a revenge. A big revenge. Nevertheless, he had to proceed one thing after another. Firstly, Jessy. Then, Shirley. Then Sam. And then, Raphaël. They all would submit. As his captain loved to say, it was the game. Gregoy went towards Barbara and smiled cheerfully. He needed her help for his plan.

"Hi sweetheart. Can I talk to you ?"

Barbara was their class delegate, with Finn (they all elected him for fun). She had blond hair, with green eyes, and a glint of intelligence on the contrary of the other girls. According to the montlhy check-up, she was 151 cm and weighted 41 kg on december. Right now, she was reading a book, and she raised her eyes with composure.

"I'm listenning."

She had a quiet voice, inspiring trust.

"I saw how Jessy treated you, and I thought you and I had common intesrest regarding her. She just threw you like nothing when she found her boyfriend Liam, and she manipulated me. Shall we let her without doing anything ? Or have you, like me, this desire of vengeance ?"

Barbara smirked and straighten up her glasses.

"I read a book telling blood attract blood, which was a wink-wink to teach us about the pointless of a revenge."

"What the fuck are you talking about ? Jessy humiliated me. I lost my popularity because of her, and you tell me to do nothing ? A class delegate shoud not listen to his class ?"

"A class delegate should manage to prevent unimportent conflict in order to allow every student to concentrate on his grades. You know Gregory, for one of us playing the game, there is three others only searching to be in peace. As for me, I'm among the three guys behind you. Do you understand ?"

"I understand you're telling bullshits." he replied spitefully. "And you're a coward, who know she can't have popularity, so she just hid. Among the flock of sheep, you're the one we will sacrifice whenever we want to."

Enraged, he left her with her damned books. Such a waste of time !

Later this day, on gym class, Gregoy noticed first Sam was not here. The fat boy looked to have give up his resolution of exercise. Good... One fucking shit less. Shirley and Jessy were still here, sadly. They did a long running session, and then, Mr. Litman gathered the soccer team for a meeting about the composition.

"Sam left the team." he announced first. "He told me he would not be among us for the last of the year. He need to focus on his grades. Now, let's talk about the make-up. I decided to change somethings. First of all, Finn will become our new substitue. Tobias, who moved in New-York, recommended him. Bobby will be the other new substitute, and doing so, we replace the two loss."

Well, nothing new here. Gregory already knew it from Raphaël. He was more interest by the development.

"Among the first-team player now. Because we needed a supporting striker : Greg, you will do the job. Someone will replace you as an attacking midfielder. Everybody's fine ?"

"I want to add something." spoke Raphaël. "Until today, we have won all our matches because we were good and played as a team, under my authority. Nevertheless, Sam and Tobias were among our best player."

He made a break, to capture the public's attention.

"Without them, matches will be more difficult. That's why we need to act together, close. We don't need personal ambition. Am I clear ?"

The hell you're. Gregory did not felt concerned. He was already pretty good, and as a captain, he would be way better than the blond lad. Trust me, after Jessy and Shirley, I will deal with you. Gregory would be the new head of the flork in no time, for sure.

Shirley DAY 85 Wednesday

The young girl was astonished. Amazed. She thought Sam would never talk to her again but... But here he was, ploting with her against Gregory, this asshole pervert. Okay, we're not dating or whatever, but.... This is so nice. She found him handsome. Better than ever. He maybe tried to lose the weight, but as his check-up said, he failed. Today, he worn a casual outfit, with a loose pants and a jumper under a black jacket. His changes were barely noticeable, but Shirley scrutinized him since the return from christmas holiday (yes, like a stalker). Sam face was rounder, and his arms and legs lost muscles, replaced by some fat. Needless to mention, vacations took a toll on his belly. It was pushing against his vest, fell-fed (he was constantly snacking) and distented. She was turned on by his body. Such an ironic situation... We reversed roles. Together, they planned a whole strategy in order to made Gregory pay, but they needed information. By leaving the team, Sam lost Raphaël's friendship, and he could not know what the devil and his minions were planning. Well, the captain did not reject him yet, but we all know he will. Anyway, Liam was her only source in the power circle. As the devil taught me, we had to know the game we're playing. The goalkeeper was kissing his girlfriend on a bench, far away Gregory. Well, to be honest, Jessy was kissing a shy and struggling Liam. The girl, with her explosive personality, was dominating their relationship. Except the fattening part. Result of Shirley advice did not show yet, but according to the data, Jessy gained 1 kg, which was a good start.

"Hi Liam." greeted Sam. "Can we talk to you in private for a sec ?"

Jessy stared at them. This will be a complication. The dark-haired girl hated her. According to her, Shirley deserved to be a loser. And she had been in love with Sam, before the blonde had dated him. In other word, she dislike both of us. Fine.

"Everything you want to tell to Liam, I can hear it too." she stated.

"Please Jessy, this is not your business." mumbled Shirley. "We will be fast."

The girl gave her a dirty look. Jeezus. She is a pain in the ass. Liam was too busy trying to adjuste his pullover half taken off.

"Okay listen to me Jessy." stated Sam. "We only have a few question for your boyfriend, but if you let us alone, I can promise you Gregory will lose his authority."

She nodded, suspicious, and left the bench, heading towers her friends. Liam watched his two schoolmates and smiled timidly.

"She is a bit clingy. And eager.". (he realised they did not juge, and he blushed like a kid.) "Awyway, what do you want ?"

"Tell us what is Gregory position in the team ? And how much Raphaël respects him ?" Shirley asked.

"Well, he is the new supporting striker right now." replied Liam. "However, I think he lost Raphaël's faith when he tried to take some photo of you and Jess'. He is know as the perv since this day."

"Ok, sounds good."

"What are you planning exactly ?"

The young girl consulted silently Sam. Did they can trust Liam ? I think we can but... The goalkeeper was nice to her, and shared an interest in fattening people, but he was also one of the oldest friend of the devil. He could reveal their strategy, and she did not want Raphaël aware of it.

"Something concerning Gregory ambition." she eventually said. "But don't worry, you're not included. Thanks for your help."

This evening, Shirley came back home happier than ever. Firstly, Sam had decided to talk with her, and to make a plan together. And now, they was working on it. Okay, let's not get carried away. He doesn't want to date me anymore. We're just friends. She wished more, but it was Sam's choice. At least, they made up, and Gregory will pay for everything. The young girl checked her phone. The teacher's conference was tonight, and Barbara sent a SMS with the appreciation and the overall average. As it happen, Shirley had been congratulated for her work and her sports performances. And she was at B. Not bad... According to her class delegate (she did the whole work alone because Finn was absent) the best mean was A+ and the worst F-. Shirley's rank was 9th over 32 students. Im quite good. Mum and dad will be proud. She remembered that Dan overall average had been inferior, and they was already satisfied. A knock on her door drew her attention. Speaking of the devil, his brother showed up. She smiled before glimpsed Raphaël behind him. What the fuck is he doing here ? The blond lad and Dan entered in the bedroom. While his brother sat onto her bed, she stared at her schoolmate. He smiled slowly.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing. I'll be short. Tobias left the town and make me responsible for giving you a message."

"I'm listenning."

She could not tell him to go fuck himself with Dan next to her. It was impossible, and probably the reason why Raphaël decided to talk now. He knew her hand was tied.

"He wanted to apologize about Finn. He shattered your friendship by envy, and he feel guilty about that. Plus, he set him against you... he is sorry."

Shirley nodded. Is this even the truth ? She did not know what to believe with the evil boy. Anyway, Finn did not speak to her since the holidays, and she was too happy to care.

"So... I will let you now. Have a good night." concluded Raphaël before leaving.

Yeah, same. This fucking motherfucker.

To be continued

Okay, we’re close to a first end... There is only one chapter of a character left. But he will be replaced by someone else ;).

[compohapm]

Friends

  This section is dedicated to the memories I've made with the people who make a difference in my life by simply being themselves. The world is altogether more brightly illuminated with these people in it, and may these memories serve as a thank you for all they've given to me.

Dominick W:     My friendship with Dominick has been has endured many years, many moments, and many hardships for the both of us. I can do no justice in articulating its importance to me, but I will say that it is something that I value beyond measure.  We'd spent so much time together as children that at one time it felt as if we were always going to be the same. However, as we've grown older it is easier for me to see our differences in opinion and understanding, but beneath everything we have a well-established bedrock to our friendship. As with the best of friends our thoughts are often collective, and there has been countless spooky occasions where one of us will mention a thought we had, or a memory, only to have the other person admit they'd been thinking the same.

     Dominick's and his family essentially fostered me during a rough time in my childhood development. While I still technically lived at home, it would not be uncommon for me to spend five days to a week with him and his family, especially during the summer. My own home wasn't exactly a safe place at that time, and though I didn't consciously avoid being at home I do believe that I subconsciously sought out relief for feeling lonely and sometimes scared. He lived with his grandfather, who knew my father through business, and being that they lived right down the road from my house it made it easy to get dropped off at his house after school only to be picked up later. Out of everyone included in this compendium it is far and away the toughest to find one memory in particular to share. He is a great friend, a true brother to me in every sense, and I hope and believe that our lives will always be intertwined regardless of time or distance.       The memory I am thinking of took place when we were very young. I must have been ten or eleven, and Dominick eight or nine. It was night like any other at his grandpa's house. We'd been up late, guzzling soda and munching on junk-food all night, and as we were preparing to finally fall asleep—me on three dense couch cushions I'd taken from the living room—we decided to re-watch for the thousandth time the movie Rugrats in Paris. There was a pantry in the kitchen where various snacks, some more dubious with strange German names than others, and before the movie Dominick grabbed a large bag of pistachios for us to munch on as we watched. The problem with this pantry was that it was open and without a door on it, and often there were a lot of moths that were drawn to the pantry on account of a light that shone brightly overhead.

     We stayed up for most of the movie while noshing on these pistachios that we both agreed seemed zestier than usual. They didn't taste bad at all—in fact, if I remember correctly they tasted very good. Better than your average nut. As the dawn approached us in the wee hours of the morning, the movie ended and we fell asleep. In those times I'd often pester Dominick as he tried to go to bed, because even then I had trouble sleeping. Eventually he'd tell me to stop talking and I'd hear his sawing snores shortly after I stopped bothering him with questions or jokes.

     We awoke in the afternoon time and began our day as typically as possible: Roll out of bed (or cushions) and immediately begin playing whatever video game we fancied for that day. I do not remember what game we were playing, but what I do remember still makes my stomach turn. At some point shortly after waking, Dominick reached into the bag of pistachios to grab a handful and then suddenly stopped. He called me over to look at the barely parted shells, and when he did I'm pretty sure I screamed: Nearly every single nut had these little round things dotting the parted openings��and some of them were moving. Tiny eggs and larvae pocked the insides of many of the nuts, and the realization dawned on both of us that what we had been eating so merrily the night before were pistachios lousy with moth eggs. The zestiness we had so ardently been admiring was the savory taste of insect meat.

    We both screamed, we pretended to vomit, we laughed. We guzzled soda (I know we drank a lot of black cherry soda at the time) and swished our mouths out. I remember worrying that the eggs were now in my stomach and I thought that they might hatch and I'd be filled with moths and that made me queasy. However, the horror of that moment soon passed and before we knew it we were back to our old adventures; an altogether Calvin and Hobbes experience. We came to find out later that those pistachios were meant for the Cockatoo they owned and not for human consumption. Go figure.

     To this day I wont eat pistachios in the dark. Coincidentally, I ate some the last time I was with Dominick, but they never tasted as good as they did in that memory: Two best friends enjoying a bowl of larvae.

     Kyle W:      It's rare to have the opportunity to watch someone develop their talent from a novice to expert. Kyle used to play the ukulele (and still does, albeit a lot better) as a young high school student, and it would sometimes drive me nuts to be hanging out with Dominick and Kyle and the whole time Kyle was strumming some chord progression while making a silly face. Kyle because an integral member of my friend group in High School and beyond, as he made several trips to visit me in college. He was always very bright, intelligent, and absurd. His broad face was mirrored in his even broader smile, which was contagious.

      Years later Kyle is a talented musician and teacher. This desire to inspire and share music with people is evident, and when he learned I'd been practicing the keyboard recently he kindly brought me a sustain-pedal from his house. In fact, I've noticed this generosity over the years in a lot of ways, offering rides, or to by the next drink at the bar. He is a kind person and a dear friend.

     The memory that comes to mind took place in Windsor, shortly after the Windsor Station Restaurant and Barroom opened. I hadn't seen Kyle in a good long time due to the fact at this point he was still in college at UVM. We planned on meeting up and going to the bar to share a beer and what's been new. Kyle parked near the building and as we got out of the car and approached we noticed that oddly enough the front door was wide open—moreover, it looked as though there was light wisps of smoke billowing out.

     Inside the barroom was bustling, with people filling all the bar seats and many of the booths, and I remember noticing the strong smell of oil or something along with the hazy clouds of smoke clinging to the air. Kyle and I exchanged some nervous smiles and words about the situation, but nevertheless proceeded to the bar to order the cheapest pint possible. The bartender, Sam, bounded over to us and in her own bubbly way dismissed the smoke as being a small problem in the kitchen and that we had nothing to worry about. We got our beers and stood at the bar for a few moments, attempting to catch up over the commotion of the place. I remember feeling like I was aboard the sinking Titanic, but everyone enveloped in that heavy smoke was more than willing to go down with the ship. We didn't get too far into our conversation before Sam shouted above the din, “Alright, everybody has got to go outside! Fire department is on its way!”

     Outside of the bar, we both noticed the swarms of people who had brought their beers outside, and we lamented our decision not to. In no time at all three, four, five fire engines roared onto the scene, one of which parking right behind Kyle's car trapping it. We stood outside in the cold night air for some time, watching the firefighters heft in large fans to air the building out. The fire was a small, contained electrical fire in the basement beneath the bar, and I found it funny just how many people were contently seated above the burning embers just moment before the evacuation.

     With Kyle's car trapped, and no beers in hand, we ended up going to my mother's for some beers before heading to Dominick's. We explained to her the ridiculousness of the whole scenario, some of which was lost on her, and even though the events of the night precluded us from catching up properly, I remember the both of us making a good time of it. I thought it was nice that even though time had separated us, we were the same two friends when we got back together. It was as natural as breathing. Catching up didn't even matter—that was just a prerequisite of polite conversation after spending so much time apart—and in fact we were able to aptly skip all the small talk and jump straight into a new memory; one that was filled with smoke and smiles.

     Cora C:      In many ways my relationships with the people in this section of the compendium hasn't changed much over the years. This could not be more different than with Cora. I knew Cora in High School as being the best friend of my then girlfriend, Katie. Later when she and Kyle started dating I thought that I'd be seeing more of her around, but really didn't. Occasionally she'd come to Dominick's with Kyle and was very shy and reserved around us three with our large personalities. I thought she was alright, but I never was close to her and didn't think of her so much as being my friend but more of being my friend's girlfriend.

    She had long blonde hair, and her eyes were made up in such a way that they reminded me of Egyptian hieroglyphs and I always liked that.  In time her and Kyle moved away to the same school together, and eventually became engaged. They were the first of my good friends to become engaged, and definitely the first I'd known to last all the way from high school to engagement. I envy the relationship they have, and how well they compliment each other. Kyle is silly and at times absurd, while Cora is grounded and realistic; Kyle is loud and talkative, and Cora is more reserved and thoughtful. This harmony they've crafted over the years is beautiful and suits them well, and I am very happy for them.       The memory I'm thinking of sticks out in my mind for two reasons: It was fairly recent, and it was the moment I knew that I truly had a friend in Cora. Over the winter of 2016 I was in a deep rut. I'd never experienced depression like that before, and felt isolated and alone. The feeling that scared me most was how strongly I believed I was being forgotten by everyone and everything. I had a friend, Dan T., visiting me and we decided to get out of my apartment for a bit. We went to the Crow Bar and Grill right near my house, and when we got there I was surprised to find Cora there with some friends and without Kyle. I didn't know when the last time I hung out with Cora without Kyle being there, but I thought it was cool to see her and I said “hello.”

     Cora had known about my struggles in that cold winter, and was asking me how I was doing and was overall very pleasant. Her friends joined up with Dan and I and after a few more drinks they convinced me to go to the Windsor Station, which I had been avoiding due to the prospect of running into my ex-girlfriend whom I was having a hard time getting over. Shortly after we ordered our drinks at the Station, I was told by the bartender that my ex was, in fact, present. When later I saw her I became morose. I quietly went and said goodbye to everyone, stating that I couldn't bear to be here right now and I'd rather just drink alone in my apartment.  

     No one tried to stop me and soon I was outside and headed up the hill to my empty apartment. From behind me I heard the barroom door open, and the quick patter of jogging footsteps behind me. I turned and saw Cora coming up the hill after me. She explained that she saw me, saw how I looked and wanted to walk me home. I confided in her my feelings and how I didn't want to ruin anyone's good time. She listened, didn't try to offer and phony quick fixes, and followed me home. By the time we arrived I was already feeling a bit better. She is really being sweet, I thought.

     I was at home alone in my apartment for a short time before I heard the door in the hallway burst open and the chattering of voices. Three quick knocks as knuckled wrapped my door, and suddenly it opened. In the doorway was Cora, her friends, Dominick and Carrie, and my friend Dan. She had corralled them all at the bar and convinced them to come to my place to spend time with me. She did this without coming across as pitying, but rather incredibly genuine. And even now remembering the compassion and empathy in which she facilitated that gesture, I feel a tear in my eye.     I hope she knows how significant that moment was in turning around my forlorn spirit and helping bring me back from such a low place.

Carrie C.      It is an unenviable position to be in when your significant other is so close with his best friend that often feels like you're left out of the conversation, miss the joke, or otherwise feel ignored at times. I can imagine that Carrie has felt this way before, given that I've almost always known her to be Dominick's girlfriend. Through the years I have absolutely imposed on their time together in order to hang out with my friend. She has been patient beyond measure, and deals with Dominick and I's idiosyncrasies better than she should have to. Carrie is short with beautiful tattoos, piercings, and a pretty round face. I enjoy how she dyes her hair, which can be subtle shades of brownish-red to a more aggressive burgundy. It took a long time for Carrie and I to talk, mostly because I'm very talkative and loud and she is very shy at first. I was surprised to learn how funny she was, and how witty and quick she could be. And though at first it was hard for me to accept this person spending more time with my best friend than me, I feel like the relationship I had with Dominick has now evolved into the relationship I have with Dominick and Carrie—where he was once my family, she is now too.

     One of my favorite things about Carrie is her love of games. Video games or board-games, I'd never met a girl so interested and so good at them. Watching her play Call of Duty is like watching Seal Team Six take down Bin Laden on cocaine. It's like watching John Wick with the speed turned up. It is nothing short of impressive to me, as I usually die in mere seconds after starting. Furthermore, it's always nice to find someone who enjoys the game Clue as much as me.

     The memory that I'm thinking of involves one such game called Munchkin, and it was the last time I played. We were playing as a farewell to our friend Caleb, who would be leaving a week or so after the game to join the Navy. Dominick, Carrie, and I have played many games of Munchkin there are always two things that impress me about Carrie when we play: She is very good at drawing, and the frequency and manner in how she wins. See, Munchkin is a great game to study social behavior with. Dominick and I are both stubborn diplomats, seeking to make deals and trades left and right and are motivated by grudges as much as from gains. Carrie, on the other hand, is patient and seemingly calculated in her strategies. Perhaps opportunistic is a better word, as usually when Dominick and I are holding grudges against each other, that's when she benefits most handsomely.

     Near the end of this game in particular, I knew I was out. I wasn't going to win. Dominick was making a steady comeback and Caleb was also like me in that he hadn't had a chance. Because Caleb and I had been scorned by Dominick, we were more or less actively plotting his downfall. See, Carrie had made no enemies in playing, whereas Caleb, Dominick, and I did. Her march toward the game-winning level 10 had been slow, methodical, and neutral. Dominick was bemoaning the fact we were going to let Carrie win, and he wasn't wrong: In my mind she'd earned it by not sinking down as low as we had, and somehow she was able to escape this came with an ounce of dignity—no easy feat.

     If Munchkin is the lens in which I use to view someones social behavior, I'd say that her finest traits are her tranquility, patience, and ability to avoid pointless grudges.

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The Difference

Friends , Have you wonder what a difference a relationship with Jesus can make in a person's life. The life I was living before, I found Christ was quite a horrifying story that could have lead to suicide . It started with being taken from my parents at the age of seven years old,by the state, and placed in a boarding school for emotionally disturbed children. Though my parents lived only fifteen minutes away, they did not come to visit my, I basically saw my family about four times a year. While growing up in this school, I was the class clown, was remove from class for being constantly disruptive. I can only count a few times, I was not staying after school for punishment. I also was on restriction in the dorm, for rebelling against the rules. I spent my child hood growing up by standing in a hallway, facing the wall, fore about twelve hours a day. When I would run away from the school they would punish me by taking away the privilege of eating meals. They force me to drink a meal replacement stuff call brewer 's yeast. The worst tasting stuff on earth. While living at this school , I had multiple run ins with death : I was dropped into a water full during the winter,almost drawn at St Peter's Village. Flew through the air into a picnic table head first. Ended up in the hospital for a couple of weeks, then spend the summer with complete Amnesia . Suffocated by a plastic bag , staff at the school thought I was dead, when I woke on my bed, I walk out to the day room to find a counselor, they were in the middle of calling an ambulance , I scared the crap out of them by my appearance of white as ash skin and blue lips. The summer that I went back to living with my biological family for three years while attending regular High School. I was hit by a car travailing at the speed of forty five MPH. The accident happen after a days work, I was at a restaurant that my Bose would take me to after work. He sent me across the street to retrieve his cigars and newspaper from his car. When I was hit by the car, witnesses said my body popped up in the air about ten feet, and travailed through the air about one hundred feet. From this accident I suffer from having roaming black outs, so I had to be watched closely for a whole summer. During that summer a friend gave me a Bible, and I read it eight hours a day. The summer of 1980 , I gave my life to Christ. While living with my parent, I was exposed to mental abuse by my mother. While gong to school my mother had me paying rent, buying my own clothes. My mom rarely cooked during the winter, she would stay up all night drinking, then sleeping it off on the couch in the den, to about two in the afternoon. I always ate at the piazza shop for my dinner we’re I worked. I would be blame false for bad thing that happened around the house and would wake up in the mourning ,being punished for something I did not do. My mother threw me out of the house for weeks at a time, and I would have to stay with my dad's mother. Many time when I would come home and none was home, I would have to beg my friends to let me stay at their homes until my parents came home. Now if it were not for Jesus strengthening me to bare this abuse, I would have taken my own live. I want to share with you about two brothers I knew from the boarding school. They were raised by a mother who basically was a whore, who had children from three different men. She had a boyfriend while being married to the father of these brothers. Now these brothers for a couple of years were living at the school as I was. One brother was in my classes,and we were both always staying after school for bad behavior When these bother left school. they both lived self destructive lives. One bother became a conman , thief ,murder by accidental homicide. Who in the end hung him self. I Had share the massage of salvation through Christ when this man and his girlfriend whom ended up in a near death car accident. They rejected the offer. The other bother end up leaving the boarding school to being enrolled in a maximum security prison for about thirty years. When he got out on parole about two year ago, his sister ask me could I try to help her brother fly straight. I try to be his friend and help him, but he try manipulate me ,to be his personal tax. He one time ask if I could meet his girl friend at the transportation station in Norristown Pa. , to give her a ride to her mother's house in Collegeville Pa. I spent two and a half hours looking for this woman that never showed. This event took place at night time, which is a very dangerous time be hang around this place. It turned out that his girl friend was a prostitute who was fifteen years older then he was. He called me and asked if I knew church people who could put this woman up for a couple of week because she was going to be homeless. Well a christian girl I knew took her in at her place, and also tried to share Christ with her. The woman rejected Jesus. The last day I saw the man i was trying to help, He first wanted to hang out with me, and called me on the phone. I was not feeling well, and wanted do nothing but stay in bed. After our call , he call the woman, and told her the reason he had not called her sooner is because he called me and I had the case of diarrhea of the mouth. So continuing his conversation with her, not knowing i am on the other line, he tells her, I was have a party at my house with finger food and wide screen television. So then I chime in yo, you never end our call. Well that day I told him that he and his girlfriend could ride around with me as I did my errands. I heard they were thinking about buying bicycles , so I took them to the Trek bike shop in Devon Pa. After that day,I did not hear from this man any more. I had finally found work, after being unemployed for seven months. So that summer I ran into his sister at a supermarket, who asked me if I heard what happened to brother ? I said no, I had not have talk to him in some time, I said, He got him sent back prison? She told me her bother had murder the woman he ask me to help. She some how tried to break her relationship off with him, this angered him, so He plotted two way to kill her with both using a harem, and a knife. He followed her over the bridge from Norristown to Bridgeport, stabbed her 21 times to she bleed to death. He did the act around 2:00 PM. The event took place less then a couple block from my house. Could they have been on their way to my house? if they were ,I was at work in Willow Grove Pa. Thank God for His protection! Who knows how I would have been involved. Now all three of us had hard child hoods. But only one of us excepted Christ and found a better path in life. Through Christ , I served my country in the military for nine years. I attended a year of Bible College. I I worked as an electrician for fifteen years.. I worked as a Telecommunications Technician for three years. I worked ten years as a ware house junior manager for Comcast. I have worked in the mission field as a volunteer on three summer trips. I have be serving the christian community with my art talent for over thirty some years. I authored my first book, a collection of my own works in art and poetry. Last winter I had a traveling mini art show, go from library to library for four months. This year I will be competing for the eighteenth time in a live pumpkin carve that consist of eighty plus competitor. the works of art are on display for three days, and draws huge crowds every year. With out Christ I could not have accomplish these things by my self. If i would have rejected Salvation through Christ, and allowed my future be dictated by my abusive child hood, I might have been the murder on that bridge. or I might have been the con artist , thief, who couldn't stand his self any more so he hung himself. If you are tiered of your life, call out to God He will give you a better life. You can leave you past at the foot of the cross, never having to pick it up again. Through Jesus's every new day,is a fresh start on life. Salvation is a gift of love from God, but it is up to the recipient to receive or reject the gift.

Written by Stephen J. Vattimo 08/25/2019