#i would like a full year of their relationship making steady fucking progress without shit getting in the way

[navree]

i want everyone to know that this latest issue of gotham war legit has me mad enough that i'm like a heartbeat away from deciding to make one of my class papers (meant to be about the myths of our modern culture) entirely about the myth of the superhero and the idea of comics being "good" solely so i can waste a good chunk of the word limit fucking raging about batman

[tojiaesth]

boyfriend

gojo satoru x f!reader

summary: you and gojo had some sort of unspoken agreement in which you refused to adhere to labels and instead chose to have fun. except neither of you would ever admit the hold you had on each other.

warning: heavy smut, 18 +, minors dni, fingering, oral (fem receiving), rough handling of reader, marking, dom!gojo, sub!reader, choking/breath play, overstim, raw sex, tummy bulge, ?slight breeding kink, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

tags: college au, fratboy!gojo, friends with benefits, unlabelled relationships, bisexual!gojo, bisexual!reader, fluff at the end <3

A/N: inspired by ariana herself <3 so i recommend at least listening to the song before you read, if you’re like me and can’t read and listen :p

It was loud. That was the first thing you picked up on before you even entered the sweaty house. Your friends begged you to come, as if there weren’t parties every week and missing one would change the world. You struggled to find a parking space, choosing to walk the rest of the way. The deafening thump of bass could be heard a few blocks down and you wondered how there was never any noise complaints.

Satoru probably threw money at them.

You smiled, it was such a him thing to do. The cold air nipped at your dress, having left your coat in your car. You had chosen to wear an emerald green satin body con dress that stopped mid thigh. It accompanied a criss cross pattern that exposed your back. You first saw it online and had fallen in love, it partly being the reason why you had said yes. You wanted him to see you in the dress, already craving the dark look in his eyes when he was turned on.

Gojo Satoru, college senior, with his charismatic personality had a very big presence at the college. Almost never alone and surrounded by a group of admirers, both men and women fell at his feet. If someone had told you back in your first year that you’d be sleeping with this man on the regular you’d think they were crazy. He honestly, despite being very handsome, was not your kind of man. Too pretty, very cocky and had serious commitment issues, bedding half the campus. But it had started at the beginning of the year, your friendship groups overlapping as you had grown close with Suguru Getou and Shoko Ieiri having been studying the same subject. You found yourself around him a lot, eventually going out with just each other and things quickly progressed.

Soon enough he was between your thighs, lapping at your cunt with fervour and sucking gently on your clit, two slender fingers hitting that spot. He did that a lot, seeming to relish in the way you fell apart on his tongue, your slippery walls pulsating as you softly said his name like a prayer. He’d nonchalantly get up, sometimes not even asking for anything in return and it surprised you. You pegged him as more of a receiver than a giver but it suited you fine.

You became pretty popular on campus as you hung out with them, attending parties and making life long friendships. You usually weren’t someone who slept around, but that quickly changed. So did your care for a steady relationship. You were 21, life was short, you had a great body and a pretty face, opting to have fun.

You found yourself caught in Gojo’s trap, legs wound around his waist on a weekly basis, his hard cock driving into you with such force you thought you’d break. Your legs clenched just thinking about it, a thin layer of slickness coating your panties.

Your thoughts were brought back to reality when you entered the frat house, NalinA by Block B was being blasted at full volume through the house and you already felt a course of excitement run through your veins. You couldn’t wait to let loose and find your friends. The house, just short of a mansion, had been decorated with l.e.d lights, a soft red and blue glow painting your skin. There was alcohol everywhere, sweaty bodies and the strong smell of weed.

“Y/N! Over here.” You looked over to see the majority of your friends on a sofa, catching sight of Satoru with a girl on his lap. His hand was caressing her ass, as she pouted saying something to him. She was pretty, and you tried your best not to care. Their faces were sweaty, with cups in their hands, indicating they had stopped dancing. You walked in their direction, plopping yourself next to the person behind the voice.

“Hey Mei-Mei. You look hot.” You said casually and she automatically pulled you to sit on her knee. You smiled and took her cup, whatever bitter liquid sliding down your throat. You and Mei were another short lived fling, sleeping together a handful of times and besides Satoru, no one else could compare to that sinful mouth of hers. A queen at teasing, she brought her hand to your waist and lightly began tracing shapes with her fingers.

“You look hot, that dress is making me want to do things to you.”

You chuckled as you stared at each other, tensions running high as the song changed to one you were familiar with. You wanted to dance.

“God, please make out.”

You ignored the annoying comment from Sukuna who was sat diagonally from you, blatantly checking you out. You told him to shut up, your mouth twitching as he looked completely unfazed. Looking away, you ran your fingers through Mei’s soft hair,

“Come, let’s dance.” You whispered, breath hot on her ear as she shivered. You loved how easily you could fluster Mei, knowing the more you worked her up the more she’d punish you for it later.

You both got up and your arms were grabbed by Shoko,

“We’re coming, we’d rather not watch Sukuna hunt for a girl like an animal or Gojo practically fuck in front of us.” She said, shuddering and dragging a very amused Getou. Your eyes flickered to Satoru, finding that he was already watching you. The girl was now straddling him and the buttons on his shirt looked undone, his hands rubbing circles on her thighs. He refused to break eye contact with you, kissing her neck as she moaned, smirking as you looked away, grasping Mei’s hand.

You don’t know what he was trying to do, but it pissed you off. It annoyed you more that he’d groan in your ear some nights, grabbing your neck and claiming you were his and his only. Not wanting you to touch or look at anyone else. The next morning? Business as usual as he was all over some girl. You deducted that him saying those things to you were just in the heat of the moment, recalling how your clit would throb as he would rub slow circles, staking his claim. You liked how possessive he could get, the rough sex, and how occasionally he’d surprise you with a gift. All without having to actually be in a relationship.

You didn’t care about labels and neither did he. So why? Why did his eyes say, he wanted you to get jealous? You sighed, these mind games and mixed signals were your least favourite part of Satoru.

The beginning of an all too familiar riff began to thump through the walls and you all squealed in delight. As ‘Do I Wanna Know’ began you swayed your hips and lip synced, literally letting your hair down as Mei came up behind you. Shoko began recording you without your knowledge, watching as your head fell onto Mei’s shoulder, her hands ghosting around the space between your breasts, purposefully ignoring how your nipples hardened as she whispered something lewd into your ear.

“She’s gonna kill you if you post that.” Suguru watched as Shoko posted the video to her story, her eyes shining with amusement as almost instantly people replied asking who you were.

Satoru on the other hand could not take his eyes off of you. He studied you as you wrapped your arms around Mei and he was exasperated. She was addictive, he thought, those pouty and full lips had a hold on him, his dick twitched thinking about them wrapped around him. Her body was something else, those breasts of hers heaving against her dress. Shit. He almost got hard. The girl currently giving him a hickey was just not doing it for him. In fact no girl or guy was, he had tried countless times only his encounters with Y/N fulfilling his desires. In spite of that, he would not tell her this, not wanting to ruin the game of cat and mouse they had going.

“Satoru, let’s go somewhere.” The girl whined, hips grinding against his crotch. He suddenly got up and pushed her off of him,

“Nah, not in the mood. I’m sure Sukuna would be interested. He has a habit of going after my sloppy seconds.” Gojo snapped, sick of the way he was gazing at you, eyes darkened with lust.

He ignored the girls cuss words directed at him as she stormed off and Sukuna snickered, looking up from his phone.

“She’s fuckable but I have my eye on something else tonight.” He thrust his phone in Satoru’s face, only to be met with Shoko’s story, full of Y/N dancing suggestively.

He willed himself not to show anger and hummed,

“Like you could pull her.” His voice dripping with fake amusement as Sukuna tensed in irritation.

Satoru walked in the direction of his friends, still dancing crazily and singing very out of tune to ‘Kiss me more’, you were now dancing with Suguru and laughing loudly as he tried to attempt some sort of dance move so terribly, Satoru could not decipher what it was supposed to be. Your lips were glossy, eyes twinkling as he picked you up and twirled you around, ribs hurting from laughing so much. You never laughed that much with him.

Satoru pursed his lips, he was just so irritated. Suguru put you down when the song finished and you fixed his hair that your arm had messed up,

“Your hairs gone so long now, I love it.” You said cheerily, fingers twirling on a stray strand as Suguru bent down slightly so he could hear you over the music.

“It suits you.” You stated softly, unable to look away from his intuitive eyes. The lights were casting a glow across his face, bringing his jaw to attention as you traced it slowly. He was a different kind of handsome you thought, more your type than Satoru was and you thought about how his eyes were a warm brown, compared to Satoru’s cerulean ones. You scolded yourself internally for still finding ways to think about Satoru, you just couldn’t shake him.

Suguru smirked and focused on the feeling of your hands, now running through his hair and eventually resting on the back of his neck. You smelt so good, he thought, he wanted to kiss you. He leaned down and you realised his intentions, your hands paused on his biceps that were coated in tattoos. As you closed your eyes, thoughts wild and slightly clouded by the shots you did with Shoko, you braced yourself to kiss the god-like man that was Getou Suguru, pulse racing.

“Y/N!” Your head automatically snapped at your name being called, sheepishly looking at Suguru whose eyes were now filled with something you couldn’t quite figure out. Satoru was in front of you both, promptly grabbing your hand and dragging you away. Eyes bewildered you looked back at Suguru who looked entertained at the whole situation. You found yourself at the focus of everyone’s stares, all curious as to why Gojo had a dark look in his eyes.

“Satoru, what the fuck? Let go-“ His large hands were gripping your smaller ones hard, uncomfortably squishing your fingers together. He said nothing, back to you as he hauled you up the stairs and into his room. His door slammed as you stumbled into the dimly lit room, turning around in utter confusion at Gojo’s behaviour.

“Fuck, what is your problem?” You were enraged at how he just did what he pleased with you and how you just let him. You massaged your wrist, now slightly red at Satoru’s force.

“Why the fuck would you try and kiss him? Seriously, Suguru? You’re such a fucking whore.” Gojo clenched his jaw, finding himself even angrier at the thought of you underneath Suguru, moaning, sweat dripping off your backs.

You were baffled. A whore?

“Firstly, you’re literally the definition of a whore and secondly, why the fuck do you care?!” You stepped closer to him, cheeks flushed in anger at Satoru’s audacity,

“You have no fucking right to care about who I fuck. Got it? You’re not my boyfriend.”

Satoru moved closer to you, your nose in line with his chest as the man’s eyes changed suddenly. For once, he had no comeback or witty remark, you were right but he’d had enough. Just the thought of his best friend between your legs snapped him into action and he had to come to terms with his feelings. His fingers lifted your chin, your eyes willing itself not to melt at his touch, goosebumps already littering your arm. He silently moved to your lips, thumb pressing against your mouth, encouraging you to open.

You were so unbelievably confused, this man blew hot and cold. One minute so angry he couldn’t speak and then next initiating a kiss.

“Satoru-“

His lips were against yours before you had time to think, furiously pressing against them and swiping his tongue across. You relaxed into his touch and opened your mouth. His tongue found yours in an instant and lightly sucked it, your breathless moans pleasuring his senses as his hands pulled your body closer to him. He explored your body, cupping your ass while you simultaneously wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers drowning in his soft white locks. Eventually he pulled away, cupping your face gently like you were a porcelain doll,

“I don’t want you to see anyone else or kiss them like that. I’m not playing any more games. You’re mine.” He stated firmly, blue eyes framed by his ash coloured lashes, gazing into your soul.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tease him. Gojo...was serious. All those extra knowing glances you’d give each other, the fiery arguments, the passionate sex, the pang of jealousy at his lips on another girls neck and the way his eyes would linger a little too long when you spoke to a guy, you realised the both of you were stupid. Too busy trying to convince yourselves you didn’t care you both buried your thoughts away, afraid to articulate them in case you were rejected.

You found yourself repeating after him, his eyes almost hypnotising you as you stuttered,

“I-i’m yours.”

Satoru lightly kissed you on the lips and motioned you to jump up, supporting your legs as you wrapped them securely around his waist. He gingerly placed you on his bed, hovering over you as his hands slowly rid up your leg, ghosting around your inner thigh and you suppressed a moan. His touch was magnetic, something as simple as stroking your thigh with Satoru becomes so much more, a tingly sensation jolting through you when his hands brushed between your clothed folds. Meanwhile he began kissing his way down, starting with your neck and sucking furiously at the spot above your collarbone. You mewled against him as he licked the now marked spot, your hips desperately finding his to grind against.

“Patience, baby. I’m taking my time with you.”

You whined at his remark, you just needed him inside you, now.

“Such a whiny brat.” His voice slipped through your ears like silk as he slowly slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders, the new stimuli adding to the experience. You were never more glad to have not worn a bra. He focused on your exposed breasts, nipples hard and swollen and he groaned at the sight.

A warm sensation reached your nipples and you cried out in pleasure, looking down at Satoru lapping up your soft mounds. His seductive gaze ripped through you as he began to trace slow circles with his tongue. His fingers kept your other breast occupied, rolling around your left nipple with his fingers, constantly switching sides and worshipping them.

His attention switched to your lower stomach, kissing your skin with affection as you anticipated his lips between your thighs. You could feel the damp spot slowly spreading on your panties and the swell of your clit, begging to be touched.

“Fuck, Satoru you tease.” You breathed out in gaspy moans, he had completely removed your dress by now and was blowing warm breaths against your knickers. Satoru brought a single digit to rub against the wet spot, moaning as he felt the tent in his pants. He loved teasing you but it required self control, wanting nothing more than to release his large cock from its restraints and into your warm hole, throbbing at the thought.

He finally pulled your panties to the side at your delight and your whimpers filled the room as his fingers brushed against your soaked clit. He played around with your pussy, stroking up and down and noting the creamy juices that were flowing out your hole. The sight of his fingers coated in your juices and he almost came right there. The lewd squelching of your cunt was slightly covered up by your cries of pleasure as he entered two slender fingers inside you, stimulating your sensitive walls. He reached down and took your clit into his mouth, humming at the taste.

“F-fuck, right there Toru” You moaned, attempting to wriggle but Satoru quickly used his arms to clamp your thighs into place, his sensual mouth causing white dots to appear in your vision. Your stomach fluttered at the slow, familiar build up of your climax, not even embarrassed that he had only been eating you out for five minutes. You were just so sensitive today and paired with Satoru laying claim to you, your body was responding to each and every one of his touches.

“Ah, k-keep going baby, fuck. You’re so good at it.” The praises fell from your lips as the deep pleasure in your stomach changed, indicating you were near.

Satoru was persistent, his insatiable need to feel your cunt quiver against his tongue caused him to add one more digit, scissoring his fingers against your gummy walls. He could feel you frantically clenching, chuckling at his inability to move as fast as his fingers were in a death trap. He kept his eyes on you, watching as your hand came up to your mouth to stifle your sobs, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“I’m close.” You whispered and you made a mistake of looking down at Satoru, his tongue was pressing down against your sensitive nub, saliva dripping onto his bed. His fingers went even faster, determined to make you cum.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me princess.”

That was all you needed. You legs squeezed frantically against his head, the euphoric sensations causing your back to refuse to rest against the bed. Satoru paid no mind to your repetitive whimpers as you began to come down from your high, his lips still stubbornly attached to your clit. It was too much, the previously pleasurable feel was now borderline painful, his sticky fingers removing themselves from your cunt.

You legs jolted occasionally each time he purposely grazed the bundle of nerves, continuing his efforts by using his tongue to tease around the now sensitive area, chuckling when your hips wriggled.

“Delicious.” His velvety tongue swiped his lips and he brought his fingers into your mouth. The tangy but familiar taste of your undoings were accompanied by his soft fingers, swirling around your tongue until your saliva created a mess.

“Shit, you’re so hot.” He groaned, the twitching of his cock was unrelenting. You pressed your legs together, the achy feeling of need returning. Reaching to kiss him, your hands started to undo his belt buckle,

“I want you.” You whispered, unable to look away from his eyes.

His lecherous eyes stared back at you, his fingers curling around your back as he brought you closer, now hovering above you.

“I want you too.”

In one swift movement, his cock was freed and he entered you, the new feeling causing you to cry out as he slowly bottomed out.

“Shit, you’re clenching like crazy baby.”

You couldn’t even reply, his thick shaft splitting you open, Satoru stared down at how you sucked him in, a creamy ring of your juices at the base of his cock. You felt him harden even more, he hadn’t wasted any time by helping you adjust. He started a rough pace, watching your perky tits bounce as he reached down and placed a nipple into his mouth. You were truly addicting, he thought, your whimpers becoming louder with the sticky sound of your cunt. Your pussy seemed to fit him like a glove, Satoru’s eyes wandered towards your soft tummy, at the faint bulge of his devouring and his eyes widened, using a hand to press against it and his ears welcomed your high pitched gasps.

“What’s the matter baby girl?” He cooed, chuckling at your stifled sobs and flushed cheeks.

“‘is too much...” You managed, barely able to communicate as he fucked you dumb.

You were so sexy, he thought.

You scooted away, his rough movements almost resulting in your head banging against the headboard but without missing a beat Satoru pulled you back, cock sinking into you with a new sensation.

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You’re gonna lie there and take it.”

His hands ghosted at your waist, using the soft tissue as a grip as he forcefully used your body, eyes unable to look away at how you took his thick, veiny member. Your pussy twitched as he licked a stripe at the side of your neck,

“Oh...you like that?” He muttered, sucking on your weak spot, he groaned when you tightened against him, knowing the tip of his cock was red and angry, your walls were too much.

You blink, eyes glossy and lips swollen from his kisses, Satoru’s marks were littered across your body, evidence of his ravishing as he continued his strong pace, cock driving into you with hunger. Your moans changed pitch,

“t’s...too much...can’t...too big.” You babbled, a new, insurmountable pleasure was ripping into your stomach.

“It’s too big?,”

Satoru wrapped his slender fingers around your neck, pressing down lightly as he smirked,

“I know.”

Your breath was slowly snatched from you as he gripped your neck harder, it somehow heightening the feeling of him around your cunt. His groans were turning you on, you always loved how vocal Satoru was.

Satoru paid attention to you, removing his hands and watching as you gasped for breaths. He grinned at how crazy your pussy went whenever he did that, he had really met his match. His cock twitched, indicating his nearing climax and you creamed shamelessly around him when his thumb lightly brushed your rosy clit. Your legs had gone to jelly at this point, but you securely clamped them around Satoru’s waist, bringing him even closer as your eyes closed in pleasurable agony.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” The way you cried and babbled nonsense, mouth messy with saliva as you drooled around his fingers, Satoru pressed at the pad of your tongue, cerulean eyes gleaming at where you connected. As he sinked into you again and again, the intemperate need to feel you squirt around him, he took your soft mounds into his mouth once more and before he knew it, you let out a long, drawn out moan as you found your release.

The white hot pleasure against your stomach snapped and as you orgasmed for the second time, a new warm sensation splashed against Satoru’s cock. Your juices dripped onto the bed, your pussy quivering and legs shaking as you rode it out.

“Fuck.” His azure eyes twinkled with amazement and you didn’t think he could possibly get any harder, as his member remained snug against your cunt.

Satisfied at your mess and how your slimy walls squeezed so torturously against him, Satoru’s own release was not far behind. With one last sound of pleasure, another warm feeling filled your pussy, spurts of the familiar white liquid spilling out of you as he slowed down his thrusts, emptying his balls into you with his repeated moans.

He pulled out, watching the results of his orgasm dribble onto his sheets. Using his fingers, he pushed the remaining liquid deep into you as a low moan escaped your lips. He brought his coated fingers to your mouth, and you licked them clean, humming against him.

As he hovered over you, his captivating eyes caught in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, illuminating his spacious room. He was so beautiful, you thought, mind now unclouded as your high disappeared. Instead, a lighter but warm feeling fluttered through you as Satoru bent down to give you butterfly kisses across your stomach.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered and he felt you smile against the top of his head, white tendrils tickling your nose as he placed himself on your tummy, careful not to crush you.

A comfortable silence lingered in the air, for the first time neither of you needed to fill it in with pointless words. You stroked his hair, content that he was still here and showing you affection even after sex, a concept new to the both of you.

After some time, with the both of you deep in thought about each other, Satoru’s head lifted and he made eye contact with you.

“I meant what I said earlier. I know this is new to the both of us so we can take it slow and I’ll probably fuck things up a few times but...I really do care about you, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened, as he glanced nervously at you. You had never seen him so vulnerable before and somehow it made you like him even more.

You extended your arm, your fingers tapping against his cheek,

“I care about you a lot too, Satoru. More than I’d like to admit.” You looked away, confused at how quickly the atmosphere changed from the desperate grappling of hands against skin to soft eyes and shy kisses. You were shy around him. You really did care about him but you also weren’t the best at articulating your thoughts, Satoru was always one upping you with his smooth talking.

His smile softened before his eyes changed, amusement dancing across his face.

“Well why wouldn’t you like me? I’m amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, his hands grabbing you and placing warm kisses around your neck. You melted into his touch, only now realising he hadn’t even properly undressed, unlike you who was completely bare.

He paused as you wriggled uncomfortably in the messy and slightly damp sheets, the both of you a tangle of limbs.

“Is this a bad time to ask if you’re on the pill?”

You stared at him.

“You are such an idiot.”

[selinakidreams]

hello hello hello ! this is my comfort piece for @doinmybesthere ‘s mental health awareness month collab! and I’d just like to say a huge thank you to emme for creating such a wonderful collab and thank you for letting me be apart of it.

paring: kirishima eijirou (I’m talking 7ft big strongman vibes) x empathic quirk f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 3.7k +

genre: hurt/comfort + fluff

warnings: mentions of anxiety & toxic friendships, instigating with means to harm- please let me know if I missed anything!!

a/n: this I think,, was the best way to approach what has tormented me for years. it was a reoccurring thing for me but I never handled it properly, and just this year, someone important taught me that I deserve more than what I’ve been putting myself through. so here it is! I also think that once my schedule clears up, I’m gonna make a sister piece to this but idk !! let me know if you guys would be interested in that!

++ the absolute biggest thank you to my betas/flow checkers @doinmybesthere @lady-bakuhoe @keishinslove BIG kith

pss. the first person who can guess my love language based off this fic wins a prize

Turning other’s confidence to despair, gloating to fear, persistence to tiredness, motivation into loss- but all you felt was drained. The overuse of your quirk left your head feeling full of cotton; Your chest heaving and vision slightly blurry. 

You arrived late to the fight because what started as a relaxing day off quickly turned into a rush to get to the streets. Thankfully Red Riot had been on the scene, waist-deep and stalling a full-fledged fight between two combat villains until backup came. 

His tired eyes met yours and you flashed him a hopeful smile until witnessing the villain get a short-termed upper hand. They landed a solid punch, which caused you to feel not only the repercussions of the shock-inducing impact but your building guilt of being a distraction.

Years of training reminded you not to let it get to your head, your hero instincts kicking in after emotionally experiencing that strike. Heart pumping with adrenaline, you began to focus your heart and mind, simultaneously tuning into what those around you were feeling, never forgetting to keep your eyes wide and alert. 

Confidence, eagerness, perseverance, exhaustion, determination. 

Taking a breath as you ease into a rhythm, you kept your sights on the two people who were attacking the boulder of a hero and finally, a steady grasp.

Quirk at work, the familiar mental image of loose strings flowing in the wind appeared, and you grabbed a hold of them, symbolizing that you had caught hold of their feelings and wasted no time on bending and contorting to your will. You watched as their actions became slower and less motivated, making it easier for Kirishima to handle. He must have realized what was happening, a new surge of elation pumped through him as he began to knock both of the villains down a peg. 

Seeing him fight had always been such a marvel to watch; it was so easy to be mesmerized by the sheer enthusiasm he had while trying to keep the balance and execute justice. Kirishima Eijirou was a hero in all senses of the word- and not just any hero, your hero- as cheesy as it sounded.

Secured under his weight and possibly unconscious, Red Riot looked around, a bit disheveled, until his gaze found yours. Expecting to be met with the warm sincere smile that always made your heart flutter, your heart sunk when you saw his eyes turn wide and frantic as he called out your hero name. 

On top of feeling a bit dizzy from honing into those particular subjects and manipulating two people at once, a wave of distress washed over you, adding to the unfavorable aftermath of pushing your quirk. 

You were quick to whip around, finding another villain was closing in closer than expected. You dropped all previous controls and focused solely on the person in front of you. 

“You had gotten better since the last time I saw you,” they sneered as they attempted to land a hard-hitting kick to your stomach. 

Missing by a hair, you pushed past the dreariness in your head and went straight into a defensive position.

The close-cut dodge wasn’t the only thing to throw you off; now you had realized why Kirishima looked at you like that; your traumatic past, the one you had divulged to him in the safety of your home, warbling with tears streaking your cheeks, was coming back to roughhouse with the intent of ending in a knockout. 

Fear twisted into gut-wrenching anxiety; the plummeting feeling hit the bottom of your stomach with a harsh thud.

In front of you stood the unmistakable frame of someone you had considered to be one of your closest friends for a time; someone that seemed so natural to be with, someone you divulged secrets and shared smiles with, someone that had made it seem like separation was not an option- now turned villain, sporting a suited evil smirk smeared on their face. 

It was hard not to let the tears collect on your waterline, thinking about the whirlwind of your relationship as your gaze met theirs for the first time in years. Months and months of triggered breakdowns, cold sweats from various nightmares, and countless tears have been shed as time progressed, the sinking feeling of long-lost fear that they had put you through now showing its ugly head; the thought you had convinced yourself for so long- that you ended up not even being worth their time starting to resurface. 

It had been hard to learn the lessons that were dealt and see the mistakes made on both parts- not just yours, to pick up all the shattered expectations of what a true friendship is, but you had. Now you were able to sort through the wrong sorts and had gotten emotionally and mentally stronger because of it; in many ways, the ending of the friendship helped you realize that there were ways you deserved to be treated, and like shit wasn’t one of them.

However, it almost seemed like all the progress you had made swirled down the drain now that they were in front of you. It was like you were experiencing the heartbreak of them ending the friendship all over again.

“Awww! The poor little hero is still heartbroken after I left her?” their tone patronizing as they jutted out their bottom lip to form an exaggerated pout. “Look at you! I can practically see the desperation on your face- desperate for me to come back? You’ve always been so fucking clingy. But you know, the news has you pinned as like... some kind of saint… no, no. You’re nothing but a selfish attention whore playing the good guy... so I just wanted to stop by and remind you of the truth.” they sneered, really aiming to trigger your trauma. 

You had opened up to them about all your fears; from the smallest to the all-consuming ones, so for them to be targeting you like this… they must have thought that you haven’t changed- and you fucking have. You worked damn hard to do so; You’ve grown and have started appreciating yourself more, started loving yourself more, started working on yourself more. The villain was only targeting your past worries, keyword, past.

Regardless, you were already feeling too much as is and the best thing you could do for yourself right now was to control yourself. 

The urge to take it personally was beyond tempting- to make them suffer as they had done to you, to watch them break right in front of you… But there was a specific way to handle this situation, one you’ve envisioned more than enough, the perfect high route. 

Quickly looking back to see how Kirishima was fairing, you were met with the rock hero in the process of cuffing the other two offenders, allowing you to feel a rush of relief. You turned around and mentally centered yourself. The convict seemed to put together what you were about to do, so without hesitation, they began charging only a second too late.

Taking a breath, the perfect feeling to muddle their prideful feeling down surged through you as you carefully knotted their violent stings together.

It was the feeling you faced when all was said and done after, the outcome you faced after you had gone through confronting all of the trauma that was built up by this person. 

All you felt was emptiness. 

When it hit them, you saw it in their eyes as they stopped in their tracks. No smugness, no pride, no cowardness. Nothing to egg them on and yet nothing to make them feel terrible. Blank. 

Before confusion slithered its way to their consciousness, you took the opportunity and roundhoused them- your efficient ankle sweep knocking their head to the floor, deeming them unconscious.

Crouching to the floor next to their body, you made sure they were breathing before cuffing them and standing back up, turning around you double-check on the scene behind you.

The police furthest from you were tucking the Red Riot’s villains in their cars while the others jogging towards you kept their eyes on the limp body behind you, Kirishima in tow. He looked incredibly tired but couldn’t seem to keep the smile off his face. He felt proud.

A weak smile graces your lips as you try to take a step, only to see your vision blur.

Great. 

The last thing you saw was the panicked look in his eyes as his pace quickened to a run in attempts to catch you. You faded out to the sound of an urgent call of your actual name before your body hit the ground with a thud. 

The next few hours came in slow-paced blinks. 

The first time you opened your eyes post-fight, your body felt heavy… but you were moving. It didn’t take long to realize that you were being carried by the muscular arms that you wake up to every morning. Slowly peeling your eyes open, the sight of his signature spikey red hair reminded you that what had just happened. Your boyfriend, the one who was on the scene with you, had witnessed you overcome one of the people that truly had left damage on you. He wasn’t looking at you, but staring straight ahead; by the way, his fingers curled around your bicep and thighs, it had been tough for him to watch everything that had gone down. 

You tried to call out his name, but it sounded stifled, sounding more like a broken whisper than anything. After another try, he seemed to have heard you, his ears perking up even though all the commotion- or maybe it was just ironic timing. When his red eyes caught the beaming smile you attempted to comfort him with, he tried to mimic it, only you could make out the way his bottom lip quiver. Your eyelids became unbearably heavy and for the second time, unconsciousness took its hold over you.

Blink.

The next time your eyes peeled open, you were being inspected by the all-to-familiar medical team. The inside of the ambulance was much brighter than it was outside, fluorescent lighting causing you to squint. Unnamable hands were touching your head and pulse points. When they noticed your eyes open, they tried to keep you awake as long as possible, the first step was sitting you up on the gurney. The first person you made eye contact with was your designated nurse- the one with the most comforting presence, was that part of her quirk? 

With a kind smile and knowing eyes, she jerked her head in the direction of the person she knew was first to come to mind. Following the movement, your gaze landed on Kirishima, who was standing off to the side and chewing on his nail, arms crossed against his chest. 

Had he already got checked out? Was he okay? 

When he noticed you were staring, he mustered up a small smile and in return, you slightly lifted both your hands to do a loose wave in attempts to warm up his smile. It worked.

“Okay c’mon, you know how these checkups go- you can go be with your boyfriend once we know you’re okay.” your nurse teased, knowing full well that a serious approach wasn’t going to work with you being this drowsy. 

You merely nodded in response, head and eyelids still heavy.

 The rest of the examination went by speedily, you being awake making everything go ten times smoother. After everything was checked and you were clear to go home, the nurses moved to talk to Kirishima as you moved to the edge of the ambulance, waiting for them to finish. 

“I’m so lucky that you’re not only my hero but also a registered caregiver. Well actually… both are pretty super...” You mumbled, trailing off with a lazy smile, lids finally starting to accept the losing battle of staying open. 

“Nooo, you’re lucky that it’s the overuse of your quirk that’s keeping you out of the hospital and not fatal injuries. It’s not manly to push yourself too hard.” he quipped back in a light playful tone; He didn’t miss how hard you were fighting to stay awake. “Baby, can you make it to the car or do you want me to carry you?” 

It was moments like this where you appreciated how comfortable Kirishima made you feel in your relationship; feeling no shame when you revert to a clingy pile of mush. Reaching out, you let your eyes close as you mimic grabby hands to your enormous boyfriend. 

You hear him sigh as he kneels in front of you, opening your eyes in time to catch his broad back muscles shifting, “c’mon love, you need to help me with this bit.”

You clumsily climb on his back and loosely wrap your arms around his neck, standing up with ease. He quickly adjusts you against him to get a better hold on your thighs. Once he begins walking, you let yourself subside back into unconsciousness.

Blink.

You were jolted awake when you felt yourself falling, only for your behind to hit a familiar cushiony surface. Oh right, the car. Before you could fade out once again, you heard Kirishima say something about going to grab the paperwork so the both of you can file your reports later when you wake up. The last thought you were able to think was something along the lines of how incredibly lucky you were to have someone love you so deeply.

Blink.

Waking up to the view of the city lights twinkling below your balcony and the energy of a healthy 8 hours of sleep, you stretch the rest of the drowsiness out of your body till you feel ready to accept the hefty amount of paperwork that’s waiting for you in the other room. 

The only light that illuminated your bedroom was the reflection of the living room lights on the hallway floors. Before getting up, you spared a glance at your nightstand, seeing a glass of water with a note underneath, as predicted; this happened more often than not after a battle. You reach out and take the glass in hand and take a steady sip before letting in more and more water, then reading the messy little note:

 in the livingroom <3 

You smiled at the little doodle he drew- two characters that seem a lot like the two of you, kissing, with a sparkly heart over their heads.

The need to recreate this drawing was growing at an incredible speed.

With newfound determination, you push yourself up from the bed and shuffle to the living room, squinting when the light becomes a little too harsh against your eyes.

Eyes fully closed when you get to the center of the living room, purposely facing the wrong way and trying to suppress a giggle, you try to use the most monotone voice you could muster.

“Kiri - where are you I can’t see.” 

“Your eyes are closed- babe, open your eyes.” 

“No it’s too bright but I saw this cute drawing on the nightstand done by this really talented artist and I must recreate it please recreate it with me.”

You heard a bit of shuffling before his voice came close to your left side.

“Was it a pretty manly drawing?” 

“I would like to think so.”

He was much closer at this point, shifted to somewhere close in front of you right before warm lips were on yours; as quick as the peck came, it was gone in a flash followed by the sound of him plopping down on the couch.

“Wait Eijirou-” you start to pout as you turn in the direction where the couch is, eyes now fully open and set on Kirishima until the shock of pain shot through your nerve endings. 

“Ah, shit! Fuck!…” you wince, lifting your leg to hug your newly stubbed toe.

Kirishima is back by your side in an instant, really trying to suppress his laugh but doing a terrible job.

“You’re such a jerk for laughing,” you pout, giving your best attempt of a proper shove… and he didn’t even budge. 

There was a moment of complete silence then the booming of your boyfriend’s boisterous laughs bouncing off the walls. Rolling your eyes, you limped over to the spot on the couch where he was previously sitting, and as the cushion beside you dips, you sigh. 

The sight in front of you was a disheveled mess. Scribbled on papers were thrown about- most were filled out but there were a few that were blank, pens and highlighters could be spotted under and over random reports.

“I did most of the reports… but I didn’t know if you wanted to fill out yours… because of who you were fighting.” he slowly stated, as if he were walking on eggshells. You could tell that he was holding back from hitting the main issue. 

Was this something you were ready to unbiasedly talk about? Kirishima knew most of the details, but he also realized that you probably wanted to talk about it more now that you’ve not only seen them after all this time but had to fight them. 

With another sigh, you let your head fall into your palms- your elbows digging into your thighs- and you roughly rub your eyes before coming up for a new breath of air. 

“My heart was pounding…” you started, attempting to prepare for the unwanted wave of grief, but as you trailed off, oddly enough, it never came. 

When reflecting on the fight, you remembered the range of emotions you felt, but now… you just felt… empty- which was ironic. No sadness, longing, anxiety… if anything, with your caring redhead staring at you with the roundest eyes, you felt at ease. 

“But honestly? I don’t really feel much right now. Like I can say that when looking back, I think I handled myself in the best way possible- they don’t deserve to have that satisfaction of creating a rise out of me, and quite frankly… I’m tired, Ei. I’m so tired of letting them have that hold on me. I don’t deserve that kind of pain. As much as I am a hero, I need to think about myself as a person and there’s only so much I can endure. My mental and emotional health comes first.” 

After saying all of that, there was a slight hint of relief that flooded your system; you already began to feel lighter.

“I’m so proud of you. I know that must have been really hard to face but you did it, and you were so good about it,” he whispered as he reached out for your thigh. 

Accepting his comfort, you sucked in another breath and smiled up at him. He held and returned your smile for a couple of seconds before slightly leaning in, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. 

“Would it be alright if I.. kiss you?” it was such a heart-warming gesture, how he was making sure you weren’t pushing yourself. 

“More than alright,” you whisper, barely getting out the last word because of how quickly the gap between you two closed. The kiss was comfort in the rawest form; his pace was slow, his large hand cupping your jaw as his tongue invaded your mouth. You were following his pace, your eyes coming to a close, melting into a relaxed state for what seemed like the first time today. 

Keeping the kiss light, he pulled away shortly, but not before placing a lingering peck on your lips, then one on your forehead and whispering, “I made you a snack. You’re probably hungry right now so I prepared you a little something filling. And while you eat, I’m gonna run a bath with some Epsom salt and lavender oil, does that sound good?” 

Overwhelming gratitude washed over you. Words couldn’t possibly measure even the bare minimum of the love you have for Kirishima Eijirou, and yet you managed to string a soft, “You are the most wonderful person in the world, and I… Eijirou I love you so much.” 

His eyes became a little teary as he looked down at you, a wobbly smile in place before whispering a returning “I love you,” before heading into the bathroom to run the water in your massive tub. 

As the thundering sound of the water filling the tub echo through your apartment, you get up and rummage the fridge to find a plate of adorably cut red apples with a glob of peanut butter off to the side. 

“Baby do you want tea?” You call out just loud enough, “I’m gonna brew that green tea with the toasted rice!” 

He came into the kitchen looking big and confused, “what did you say, baby?”

“Green tea?”

“Oh yes, please,” he said, leaning in and planting a kiss to your temple before turning back to the bathroom. 

“Kiri? Can you put on the house shows on the tv? I forgot what channel they were on.”

You didn’t need to turn around to hear tv turn on; a shout of thanks was called out before you took a bite of your snack.

It felt all very domestic, something you never thought could happen to you. Your childhood was a montage of quirk abuse, being emotionally used, following the same types of toxic people, and never learning your lesson. It all flipped somewhere in your twenties- you began to realize the pattern after being shown the kindness the world could offer. No longer world you put up with bullshit like that. You knew better now and Eijirou always reminded you of that. 

You were halfway through one of your favorite flipping shows when Kirishima came in shirtless, letting you know the bath was ready, “Okay my love, it’s ready. Take your time, I‘ll be in the tub.”

You stripped on your way to the bathroom, leaving all your clothes on the bench in the bedroom before padding into the warm-tiled bathroom.

The view you stepped in on was delicious; your huge boyfriend taking up most of the tub, his head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed.

“Gee red, you’re so sexy.” you aimed to tease, but your words came out a bit strained. He chuckles before turning to face you and groaning your name, “hurry up and come in here.”

And it’s then when you’re submerged in all the heat and laying against your boyfriend’s warmth, do you remember that life is what you make it to be. Never accept anything less than the love and care you deserve.

Blink.

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 2.1k

warnings: swearing, anxiety, hitch…, gross couple stuff, fluffy in the beginning, angst toward the end

listen to the music masterlist

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Between band rehearsals and time at home, you were happier than you'd ever been. You and Mikasa were officially an item. Honestly, it was hard for you to believe.

Three full days and nothing had gone wrong. Maybe Hitch's threats were empty after all. Admittedly, you were a little worried she'd be right on your tail after you and Mikasa became official.

But there was no way she'd know, anyway. Only the rest of the band and your friend group knew about your new relationship.

Mikasa was never one to care about social media so the public not knowing for a little while wouldn't be a big deal.

You wanted the fans to be aware but you had to be sure you were clear of Hitch before you announced it. You wanted to be sure you'd completely shaken her off before taking to the socials.

Perhaps the scene at the restaurant really was her last stand. You hadn't heard from her since and you were too caught up in your own fear of her to reach out.

Her outburst was something you thought about in times when you weren't focused on your girlfriend.

You were actually a little worried about Hitch. What she said stunned you for sure but so many other things happened that night that you had barely even dwelled on it before you and Mikasa started dating.

It was easy to tell that every word she spoke came from a place rooted deeply within her. You never expected something like that from as calm a person as Hitch. Based on the way she escaped that night, neither did she.

After the kiss with Mikasa, you were too wrapped up in your own doubtful mind to even give Hitch a second thought.

Yet there you were, your thoughts consumed by her while you helped set up for Eren's party.

"Y/n!" Armin called from the floor. His voice was startling and you almost fell off the ladder he was holding.

"What, Armin?" You put a hand to your heart and steadied yourself by pressing your palm to the wall.

"Why are you taking ten years to tape streamers up? They don't even look good because you've got your head in the clouds! Just let me do it." They let out an annoyed huff and motioned for you to come down the ladder.

You obliged and held the ladder steady for Armin to climb up. They started fixing the streamers while mumbling an insult or two about how they were placed.

Eren was on the back porch attempting to put up string lights, which was usually Jean's job. Instead, he was on the phone with Niccolo, who so graciously offered to cater, at the kitchen counter. Mikasa was going around all the rooms and hiding expensive or prized possessions so nothing important got destroyed.

She then walked into the kitchen and sent you an affectionate smile while stacking away plates that used to belong to your grandparents.

You smiled back and took one hand off the ladder to grab hold of her arm before letting her walk to the fridge. Armin swatted your head. "Will you stop dilly-dallying? Hold the ladder steady!"

Jean made a silent gagging motion at you and Mikasa before turning back to the phone.

Although she was hiding her face in the fridge, you still noticed the hint of a smile on her face.

Armin smacked your head again. "I'm gonna get another head injury if you don't hold the ladder steady!"

"Christ, Armin. I got it, okay?" You gripped the ladder with both hands but fought the urge to tip it over. He really took decorating seriously.

Mikasa left the room after putting everything valuable into a closet and getting a drink.

Jean got off the phone after fifteen or so minutes and Eren came back inside to ask for help with the lights. Armin gladly halted his work with the streamers to go help him.

So you were back on decorating duty. You moved the ladder to another part of the kitchen to finish up with the streamers.

After everything was set up, the sun was beginning to set. It was around seven p.m.  People would be arriving soon so you all got dressed and ready for the party.

Sasha and Niccolo were the first people to arrive since they were the ones bringing all the food. Once they got done with putting the food out more people began to show.

First, it was the rest of your friend group. Then, it was people Eren knew but you didn't. Finally, it was so many random people that you lost track of them all.

It was now dark outside and your house was filled with people. Jean and Marco were at the front door as light security to make sure douchebags such as Floch didn't get in.  

The one time he did he broke a bunch of expensive vases. That's where the ritual of hiding valuable stuff came from. You could never be too careful at big parties like these.

Music was blaring through your house, making it impossible to hold a steady conversation with your girlfriend, who stood in front of you. 

Instead of talking, you both decided that dancing would be the better option.

What surprised you was when she started getting handsier with you as the songs progressed. She was never one for physical affection in places with lots of people so you were a little confused, but you didn't mind. 

"Guys! Reiner said he's gonna jump in the lake!" Eren shouted at you and Mikasa. He looked like he was out of breath.

"What?" you yelled back.

"The lake is fucking freezing! You can't swim in it this time of year or you'll straight up die! Holy shit- let me catch my breath. I just ran up the lawn and a flight of stairs. Fuck, I'm so out of shape!" He was still yelling since the music hadn't gotten any quieter. The stupid birthday cake hat on his head was slipping off. 

"Should we stop him?" Mikasa shouted. 

"Yes, we should fucking stop him! Everyone out there is cheering him on! The only reason he's held back is because Armin is stalling him! He's the only one down there with a little responsibility! God, Reiner is like a completely different person when he's drunk." Eren adjusted his hat and motioned for the two of you to follow him back downstairs.

You were about to follow him and Mikasa but you noticed a certain figure standing in the hallway, glaring at you. 

You thought this might've been over. You thought wrong. You'd recognize that glare anywhere.

Hitch had the nerve to show up at your best friend's birthday party knowing you'd be around. You guessed she hadn't known about you and Mikasa until a few minutes ago.

When she noticed your gaze, she abruptly turned to the left and walked into the kitchen.

"You guys go stop him, I'll stay back and monitor things while you're gone." You told your bandmates.

"You sure, Y/n?" Eren yelled again, already getting lost in the crowd.

"Yeah, go without me!"

He nodded and walked off with Mikasa trailing behind.

You felt like you were gonna be sick. You should've been more careful. You should've expected this.

You knew you were upset. You knew you were scared. But you knew you had to talk to Hitch before she talked to anyone else.

She looked angry when you approached her in a secluded hallway off of the kitchen that was luckily out of view from the rest of the party.

"I want to talk about Friday." Your voice came out surprisingly steady and for the first time that night, you could actually hear yourself speak.

She scoffed. "You wanna talk about Friday? I wanna talk about your new relationship. Do you seriously think I'm someone to mess with? Do you take me as a joke?"

"Hitch, I'm worried about you. What you said then, it was pretty heavy." You spoke calmly, trying not to provoke her.

Her glare faltered for a second but she quickly looked down and pretended to fix the wrinkles in her dress. "I lost my composure then. Don't worry about me. It won't happen again so don't ask about it." She looked at you again. "Y/n, why don't you tell me exactly what's going on with you and Mikasa?"

If Hitch wasn't going to crack, neither were you. "Nothing at all. We're only friends."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really? Because last I checked, friends don't dance like that."

"They can if they want."

She ignored your answer, not buying it, and changed the topic. "I bet you wonder where and how I get my answers to things. I have eyes everywhere. As long as I'm around here there's no escaping the truth."

You were trying very hard to keep up a wall of confidence but you knew it was falling fast. "I do wonder, actually. How did you even know she was coming back? Only two of my friends besides the band knew and they don't talk with you."

Then, she smiled. "Marlo's job has him working internationally. He was on a train before she came back. She was on it too. He overheard her on the phone with your friend Jean. I guess you could say he was in the right place at the right time."

You stumbled back in surprise. Of course something like that happened to her. What else could have?

She laughed at your reaction. "It's all too convenient! Just think about that, Y/n. You can never get rid of me, no matter how hard you try. I know what's going on with you two and everyone is going to know what happened with us."

She laughed again and any ounce of courage you had disappeared. Tears filled your eyes as you hurried away from her.

You hastily made your way through the sea of people and up the stairs. Jean and Marco looked up from the front door at the sudden noise of you running up the stairs. They called your name twice but didn't follow.

 You rushed down the hallway and into the bathroom. The door shut behind you. You dropped to the floor and let the welling tears fall.

You were overwhelmed and cried easily. Soon enough, everyone would know. How could you face them after what you did to Hitch? After they knew? 

A knocked sounded at the door after a few minutes of sitting and crying.

"Occupied," you said hoarsely.

"Y/n? Are you okay? Open the door. It's me. It’s Eren."

Damn, you were hoping no one else noticed. You figured Eren and the others would still be persuading Reiner out of stupidity. 

After a moment of hesitation, you opened the door and he came in. He sat on the floor in front of you as you leaned against the cabinets. 

"I saw you through that crowd. Jean said you came up here. Can you tell me what happened and if you're okay?" He rubbed your arm and pulled you in to hug him as he tried to help you calm down.

You hiccuped and sniffled into his shoulder, dampening the cloth of his shirt, but he didn't seem to care. "Take your time," he whispered.

You wiped at your eyes and pulled away from his embrace. "Eren, I did something so shitty in college."

posted: 9/29/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan…

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

a/n: I wrote this months ago and let it sit on the shelf. I’m finally ready to dust it off and give it another go...so let’s see what it do...

Part iii - Trifecta

Torren Sykes hadn’t lived what anyone would consider an exciting life. In fact, in her twenty-three years, she had only just left her mom’s double-wide trailer in East Bumble Fuck less than a year ago. Not quite 365 days later, she still didn’t have a pot to piss in, nor a window to throw it out of.

Truthfully, she usually didn’t know where she would be getting her next meal - that sort of thing wasn’t really a big deal to her. She actually liked the mystery of it all. There was something undeniably sexy about not knowing what the day would bring - who she would run into, or have to take something off of to survive. If someone else had to get hurt so she could make it through another day, such was life. She’d won. Those other people just needed to be better at playing the fucking game, plain and simple. 

Besides, pulling a caper or two kept her on her toes. She learned how to pull off the best of them from her mother. It’s not like adulting was one of Leslie’s strong suits. 

If only her mother had been more like her Me-Maw, now that woman was a saint. For reasons that Torren never cared to ask, she lived with her Me-Maw until she was five years old.  Leslie would periodically visit her to drop off the obligatory present on Christmas or her birthday if that bitch remembered. Not that they were ever good presents – just some cheap ass, unwrapped items she happened to pick up at the dollar store. Torren couldn't remember a gift that she had received wasn't still in the plastic bag with the receipt in it.

Cheap, whore.

Just once she would have liked a real baby doll from Toys-R-Us, instead of those cheap, hard, plastic dolls that the hand molds weren't cut out evenly, and the jagged edges cut the shit out of her face when she tried to sleep with it. But, that was Leslie. Torren didn't choose her; Leslie sure as shit didn't choose her daughter.

It became painfully clear to Torren that her mother didn’t want anything to do with her after her Me-Maw died. Unfortunately, she found herself as her mother’s unwitting roommate at a very young age, forcing the girl to spend a lot of time alone. 

By the time she turned nine, Torren was convinced that her mother was a prostitute and she was a trick baby. It was the only explanation she could come up with seeing as how her mother never worked but always had enough money to pay the rent, keep the lights on, and have plenty of booze, chips, and hot dogs in the fridge. 

Not that Torren had many other life experiences with a working parent to compare her situation to, but it just seemed pretty fucking difficult to have a job if one were passed out drunk all the fucking time. Besides, who had time to work when during your waking hours you were spending them with one of your many, many boyfriends? 

Torren used to wonder if one of the multitudes of men that would traipse in and out of that trailer were her father - but the more she got to know what type of person Leslie was, the more she realized that whoever that guy was, had gotten the hell out of dodge. 

Lucky son-of-a-bitch. 

But for all of Leslie’s flaws, she did manage to impart her three philosophies of life onto her daughter - the three things that Torren still lived by to this day. It was the least she could do. God knows that whore sure as fuck didn’t do anything else for her.

Mama’s Life Lessons #1 - There is no such thing as too much black eyeliner

As trivial as it sounded, it proved to be a precious lesson. Shortly after she had moved into the trailer, Leslie had forced Torren to sit on the bed and watch as she got ready for another one of her "dates". She had told the little girl that beautiful eyes were the one good gene that ran in their family. “You got to learn how to work ‘em,” Leslie exhaled a long plume of smoke at her reflection in the vanity mirror, “You listenin'? This's important. This right here," she held up the black liner pencil, “is gonna be your best friend.”

Of course, Torren had no idea what she meant. How was a pencil going to her friend? She didn’t really care so much as what her mother was saying to her at the moment, it was more of the fact that she was actually talking to her that made Torren hang on to every word. 

That’s why she picked up the black liner pencil from her mother's cluttered vanity table and leaned over to look in the mirror. She tried tracing her bottom lid, the way her mother had done, but at six it was a little easier said than done. She had just learned how to color inside the lines with a fat crayon; mastering the art of applying liner would have to wait a few more years. 

Leslie, however, was not willing to wait that long, "What the hell's amatta wit'chu, Dumbass? You doin' it all wrong," she said snatching the pencil from the girl's hand. Grabbing Torren roughly by the chin she said, "Gotta teach you every goddamn thing. Hold still." She mumbled more curses and said something about her good-for-nothing mother not teaching her brat anything useful.

By the time she had finished cursing her name, Leslie roughly turned her daughter's head toward the mirror, "Yeah you got those eyes. Now, learn to use ‘em.” Leslie dropped the pencil onto the vanity before picking up her drink and shooing Torren away. 

That was the day that Drew Watkins bought her an ice cream. It had to be the eyeliner. It was a true fact, not just another one of her mother's drunken theories. Eyeliner and her eyes...she didn’t know how she used them, but they worked.

From that day on Torren opted to never step foot outside without heavy black liner again. 

Mama’s Life Lessons #2 - As long as there are men around that want to fuck you, you will never need to work

It wasn’t like she going to go out and get a real job. She wasn’t raised with much of a work ethic. She was too young to remember if her Me-Maw worked and what she gathered from her mother was that there would always be men around to take care of her. 

Leslie told her that she didn’t need to work because working a man was a full-time job. If she were doing that right, she wouldn’t have time for a fucking 9-5. It didn’t matter if he was in a relationship, gay, or the fucking Pope. As long as he a dick and she could bend over, and her eyes were done, her rent was as good as paid. 

If she wanted more than just the basic bills paid, she would have to rethink what all she was willing to do - but just make sure she didn’t do too much otherwise she couldn’t guarantee a steady paycheck every week.

This sage advice didn’t make much sense to 8-year-old Torren, but as the years progressed she started to work it into one of her life’s mottos. She would never want for anything. She could always rely on the kindness of strangers and when that got to be too boring, she could always take it, just to spice things up a bit.  

Mama’s Life Lessons #3 - If you want something do whatever it takes to make sure you get it

As a child that grew up with the television as a babysitter, Torren Sykes knew that she was destined to love Ivar “Lothbrok” Ragnarsson since she was a little girl. Ever since that day she turned on the TV and saw this adorable blue-eyed boy drawing Mickey Mouse ears saying, “I’m Ivar Lothbrok and you’re watching the Disney Channel,” she knew that he had to be hers. 

He was co-starring on a show called The Baker Boys, about three foster kids, who had come to live with a family that owned a bakery. Ivar’s character was named Simon Baker - a mischievous kid that lived with his grandmother until she died and never felt like he fit in with this cookie-cutter family. 

His life was just like hers - minus the cookie-cutter family that loved him and all. She was actually with more of an alcoholic whore that didn’t give a shit if she lived or died, and not pulling stunts in a bakery with flour and messing up orders like him, but she still saw them as kindred spirits. 

When the show got canceled she was devastated. How dare the world try to keep her from her man? Didn’t they understand this was love? Didn’t those people at Disneyland know that he was the only person in the world that understood her?

As if on queue, she happened to find the Season 2 DVD box-set at the library one afternoon. Her mother had kicked her out of the trailer because she had a date and couldn’t have the dumbass child around fucking things up for her. Torren had nothing else to do - at 11-years-old, she had no money, and nowhere to go. At least the library was air-conditioned. 

She wanted that box-set. Slipping it into her backpack unnoticed was the easy part. Trying to get it past the alarms would be harder. She watched for a while, paying particular attention to the way the check-out system worked. 

When the librarians changed shifts, she let a smile cross her lips as she picked a few random books from the shelves. 

Her beautiful eyes went as big as saucers when the alarm buzzed, and the young male librarian looked down at her, still clutching the large reference book to her check. Carefully she had stepped across to the other side of the alarm sensor waiting to collect the books she was checking out.

“I’m sorry, you can’t check out reference books,” the young man said, blinking his hazel eyes at Torren, the corner of his lip tugging into a smile.

She let a pout fall on her lips as she lowered her large eyes down to the book in her arms, “Oh...sorry.” She handed the book back, “I didn’t realize I still had it.” And like that, she walked out of the library with her prize.

She had stolen for Ivar...now if that wasn’t love what was?

The only thing that had threatened their love through the years is when Ivar got married. It damn near broke Torren’s heart. How could he be so cruel? She didn’t give a fuck that the marriage was short-lived. She even understood why he had to do it. He had gotten that bitch pregnant, and he didn’t have much choice. But, he cut her deep. 

Didn’t he know how much she loved him? Didn’t he know that she stuck by him when he had joined 6cess and had seen him in concert 3 times? She still had the autographed photo of the two of them from the signing at Spring Hills Mall - when she was wearing that blue midriff cardigan and ripped jeans and he had his arm around her. That shirt brought out the color in his eyes. She even wore Happy, which he said was his favorite perfume. She thought it smelled like Comet, but she stole a bottle of it from Macy’s right before the photo-op to smell good for him. 

And he went and pulled this shit?

Besides, Johnny Law said that she was still too young for him and that he could get arrested for being with her. She knew that he had to pretend to have a normal life so that no one would know about their love affair. She was just understanding like that. It gave her time to grow up a little more so that when they could he be together, the law wouldn't be standing in their way. She really didn't give a fuck, but she suspected he did. Why else hadn't he come for her?

Torren didn’t even like their music. She wasn’t a boyband kind of girl, but for him, she would make the exception. She was more of the gangsta rap or heavy metal type girl. But if Ivar was serenading her, she’d listen to sappy, wrist-slitting, emo, shit rock all fucking day long, because she loved him. 

She hated that he had gotten that whore pregnant, too. She understood that he had to pretend that they had a normal marriage. She knew that when he was fucking that bitch, he was really imagining it was her. The years apart had made him a master at hiding his true feelings for her. He couldn't give anyone cause for suspicion. If he let on the truth he could risk losing everything…his house, cars, job, and his kid. That whore was trying to keep them apart. But, she was just a small obstacle that posed no real threat to Torren.

She did not doubt that she would be his daughter's new mommy. The kid would probably be sad at first that she wouldn't be with that other woman like Torren had been when her grandmother died. But, the kid would get used to it. Torren was going to be a whole hell of a lot better at being a mom than her piece of shit mother was to her. That was for damn sure. She was going to teach her stepdaughter all about eyeliner, and how to dye her hair. 

She was going to teach her what party clothes every woman should have in her wardrobe and how to get a man to do whatever she wanted by just batting her eyes at him. She would even share her secrets on what pills to mix and what dosages to give for submission, making a man catatonic, and if she was really good, she'd teach what to put in a drink to kill someone. Hell, she even planned on giving the child her most discrete drug contacts. That would of course have to wait until she was older – at least 13. She was going to be such a good mommy. 

Ivar's daughter was going to love Torren as much as Torren loved him. They were going to be the perfect family.

Torren was as hopelessly devoted to Ivar as he was to her. He had waited for her to become legal. Just months before she was old enough to legally consent to sex, and get married without parental permission, his marriage started falling apart. She knew that Ivar was trying to make a clean break from his wife, and get his daughter used to the idea of them being apart before he could come home to her. 

Torren had been thoughtful and respectful enough to give him that space to make sure everything was right before she stepped into the role of the new Mrs. Lothbrok. He had to test the waters, make sure that she still wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had to get back into the swing of things…have sex constantly to make sure he could keep up with her. She knew that "the prude" wasn't doing it nearly as often as he needed to - why else would he have an Only Fans page?

Torren was the only one that could feed his appetite, and he hers.

Now, they were both finally ready. She was mature and developed. She knew what she needed, and it was him. He had his fun before her, but now he was auditioning again and getting everything back on track for them. He had a great relationship with his daughter and his dumb ass ex-wife finally understood that their relationship was a fling that went too far.

His face told her everything that her heart already knew. He loved her. 

Why else would be looking at her like that? She could feel herself blush when he smiled on Instagram like that into them. Then he gave her that smile. That was her smile; the one that he reserved for her during their private times. Yet, there he was doing it in front of an audience of millions, and he didn't care who saw it. He had to let her know that it was time for her to come home. It was like a sleeper cell being awakened.

She didn't have a choice. She did what any other woman in her position would do. She packed a bag, threw it in the car she stole a few days before and drove. Armed with her trifecta of knowledge and determination, she prepared to face the obstacles that were bound to get in her way. There was nothing that was going to stop her from getting her man.

Nothing.

Part ii || Part iv

Tags: @ideagarden-blog1​  @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @didiintheblog​ @conaionaru​ @peachyboneless​ @flowers-in-your-hayr @heavenly1927​ @zuxiezendler @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys @didiintheblog​  @revolution-starter​

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

5 times Logan helped his partners get their shit together +1 time they returned the favor

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22854292

MasterPost

relationships: Logan-Centric DLAMPR (platonic creativitwins)

warnings: Remus-typical conversation topics (Teeth circa 2007, puke, crushing vids), food mention, minor injury and blood, panic attacks (kinda?), overworking, bad self-care habits, fluffy fluffy fluff.

Feedback Is Welcomed!

1- Deceit

Deceit paced about his new room, picking up and moving large boxes in repetition and yet refusing to begin unpacking. He assumed his most comfortable form with all of his arms out, as he would usually in his old room. The others had assured him that they didn’t find it disconcerting, but even just being on this side of the mindscape made him self-conscious. He moved another box compulsively.

It had been a month and a half since Deceit and Remus had finally been “accepted”, and it still felt surreal. Everyday he felt another barrier crumble with his new… partners? That was also odd to think about. He was constantly replaying the scene of Patton in front of him, after they’d steadily built a rapport, absolutely distraught with remorse. Taking his hand. Letting him and Remus into the life the others had built.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized how steady the progress was. He’d been dating Remus for ages, and of course there was the half-year ago that Virgil started speaking to him again. He’d never been on particularly bad terms with Logan and Roman… Perhaps it was merely an inevitability he hadn’t recognized, or more likely refused to wish for. 

And yeah, he'd taken his sweet time switching over. He’d “moved in” weeks ago, but hadn’t yet had the will to unpack. Everytime he started, he stopped, the feeling that he didn’t have the right to claim the space. Because he had to keep it in his head that it could all be taken away, even after he continued to be assured by his partners otherwise.  But he was here now. He was here, and he was seen, his input listened to, he had the focus he’d been vying for finally. It was terrifying.

The conscious, of which previously Deceit had only had occasional glimpses when he visited, was just plain exposing. The snake wondered how Virgil of all people could have handled this living here when he moved, and then cringed at the thought. It spoke to how bad things were before, he supposed. Anything is better than living in the unconscious. It… didn’t bring out the best in anyone.

Deceit shook his head. It was the past, they'd all agreed. Things had changed, were changing.

Looking down, Dee realized a pair of his hands had been carefully shredding the cardboard lip of one of his boxes into neat little strips. Fuck. So much for reusing that one. He exhaled deeply, tipping his head back as though to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch. He let his eyes lay closed for a moment before the sound of his opened door creaking wider broke the silence.

"Deceit? Are you quite alright?" 

Deceit spun around to see who had spoken. Logan stood in the half open doorway, hands folded in front of himself and head tilted a bit in confusion. Deceit did not find that expression cute on him, not at all. 

"I'm just peachy, and you?" The side lied with a sharp-toothed grin. Logan frowned a bit, and yeah, Deceit hadn't expected him to believe that, but call it a force of habit. 

"Falsehood. You have been staring into space for approximately five minutes. Do you require assistance unpacking?" Logan nodded to the mass of boxes. Deceit crossed a few of his arms.

"This conversation is obviously best had with you standing in my doorway like the absolute worst doorstop," He said dryly, "Why are you here?"

Logan seemed confused, hesitant before stepping fully inside. He looked around at the barren room quickly, probably noting that the only things in there other than the boxes were the bed, bookshelf, and desk. 

"I wanted to see how you were adjusting. I presume not well, given that your room has not changed since you first moved in over a month ago."

"You presume wrong."

"No, I don’t."

"No," Deceit smirked, showing gleaming white fangs, "you don't."

Logan nodded, and dropped the pretense of hesitance and took to opening and unpacking a box filled with philosophy books. To his credit, Deceit resisted the urge to snap at him and just accept the help. Character Development, he thought to himself with amusement, as the other began arranging the tomes on the expansive bookshelf.

"Would you like them arranged by the author's last name or by subject matter?" Logan asked,  without looking back at Deceit.

Deceit wondered if the helpfulness was another perk of the conscious. He then wondered if that was just one of the many nice things about Logan specifically. Then he stopped wondering because he remembered that questions usually needed answers.

"Um, just last name is fine." 

A few minutes passed in relative silence, Logan occasionally asking about some of Deceit's numerous psychology books as he moved on to the next box. It was nice to be around someone who didn't groan and walk away when he shared his thoughts on such subjects, not that he didn’t understand why most others did that. 

When it began to feel awkward just leaning against the wall while someone else did all his unpacking, Deceit began to empty boxes into the closet (Literally. He upended boxes of clothing before grabbing three or four at a time and arranging them on hangers). Logan, finished with the books, glanced over at Dee with a curious look.

"So. How are you feeling?" Logan asked, and Deceit could tell he wasn’t used to willingly asking questions like that. He wasn’t sure if he appreciated the concern or was annoyed yet.

"I thought feelings weren't your department, Teach?" 

"I'm being serious." There was a beat. Deceit sucked in a breath, regretful for his instinctive bitchiness. He turned away from Logan and started organizing the sizable portion of his wardrobe made of cloaks. Hesitantly, and with an amount of secrecy remaining, Deceit spoke. 

"Well, it's… good to be out of the dark, so to speak. Honestly, I'm still sort of reeling…" Since when did not lying get so hard?

"But?" 

Deceit paused again, finished with the clothes and taking a moment to fidget uncertainly. He spun around to set up his decorative houseplants, sighing.

"I feel exposed," Deceit said suddenly. Logan looked up from where he was organizing various items, tilting his head in that cute, confused expression he was prone to. Except not cute, because Deceit was not weak to such frivolous feelings at all.

"That’s absurd, You wear the most clothing out of any of us, down to the gloves-"

"Not literally, Amelia Bedelia," He snapped, twirling a heat lamp between a few of his hands. "I mean in a mental sense. You must know what I’m talking about, it's like being monitored." 

Logan seemed thoughtful, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. Deceit placed the lamp on a bedside table (lest he smash it against his wall while he gestured, which wasn’t unlikely), and sat beside him. 

"I would liken it more to being at the ready for consultation; being at attention. You are here because you have something to contribute that could be crucial to solving a problem. You will get used to it, you’ll probably even appreciate it at some point. For now, though, you would benefit from distractions. I would recommend spending time in the Commons. With Us." Logan smiled softly for a moment, "Around all the others, things seem to get easier. For me, at least."

Deceit stared at him, surprised at the tenderness with which Logan spoke. Looking around, the side noticed that the new room- his room- was now full of all his belongings. The boxes were piled up in the corner, and with a snap they popped away to nothingness. In fact, he could probably have just unpacked with a snap. Logan obviously knew that, too, but he still did it by hand.

Huh.

"Well, it appears you're all settled now. I should go, before your room begins to take on its effects, like ours do." Logan said, standing abruptly. Deceit noticed that he looked rather sheepish, and then realized that he hadn't spoken since Logan's small speech.

"Yes, uh- it appears that way. Thank you, by the way, for… helping me unpack." 

"It was my pleasure." Logan said with a small smile. All of his smiles were small, a bit reserved, but so surprisingly warm. A lot of things about him were like that, Deceit thought. Including the way he gave the snake a quick peck on the cheek before righting himself again, looking unaffected save for the small pink tinge to his countenance. 

“Disgusting,” Deceit said, a smirk on his face.

Logan nodded a bit to himself, looking over his shoulder before he left.

"I'll see you soon." It wasn't a question. And with that, Logan closed the door and was gone. 

Deceit sighed, not a tad dreamily at all, thank you very much.

He supposed that living here wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

2- Patton

Patton flitted about the kitchen with ease, humming a little tune and batting his fingers along the counter-tops as he prepared dinner. The first dinner that he'd officially serve for his whole, recently expanded family. He didn’t notice it at first, figuring that over the time they’d grown closer they must have all eaten together, before it hit him just how different all their schedule’s were; it wasn’t often that dinner included all of them before either. Breakfast, sure, but breakfast was easy- there were no stakes! 

He was being silly, he knew that. It was just dinner, nothing special. It wasn't even like making more food was hard, given that Pat could conjure ingredients at will (and they hardly needed to eat, anyway), but it felt monumental. This had to be perfect, this meal had to embody all the remorse the fatherly side felt for his treatment of the others. They could swear up and down that they’d moved on, and he wanted to move on, but he couldn’t quite believe it. Not yet. He couldn’t let himself have it that easy. They were his family now, they had to know just how much he loved them after everything.

Patton slumped against a counter, pulling his hands down his face. Why were things so stressful? There was a time when it was all simple and easy- he was sure of it. Why couldn’t things just be okay after they all agreed it would be, why did he still have to feel like-

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

Patton spun around quickly, putting on a smile.

“Logan!” Patton exclaimed, “I’m a little busy right now, Kiddo. How can I help ya?”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I am not the one in need of help, Patton."

"What do you mean, honey? Is somebody hurt?" Pat asked with a gasp. Logan only smiled a bit, an odd and uncomfortable kind of smile that made Patton feel suddenly guilty.

"No, nothing like that.” Logan assured him, “Do you want any- I mean, I am feeling rather restless. Would you mind if I assisted in tonight's dinner preparations?" 

"Oh!" Patton seemed caught off guard, but quickly recovered, "Of course!" Relief laced his voice.

It was only after Logan got started carefully cutting bell peppers that Patton realized what had happened. He glanced over at the taller side, feeling a sudden and intense surge of appreciation for the help (and maybe a bit of embarrassment at how he hadn’t caught on to the obvious front immediately). It wasn't out of the ordinary; all of Patton's emotions were intense, especially those he felt for his partners. 

Patton realized he'd been staring when Logan looked over at him, cocking his head to the side. 

"What's on your mind, dear?" 

Patton leaned against the counter, shoulders slumping. Logan was almost as impossible to lie to as Deceit.

"Oh, I'm just a bit nervous, Lo."

"That's understandable."

"Is it?"

"Of course. You're putting a lot of pressure on yourself because this is the first time that all six of us are having dinner together as part of… This," Logan gestured between himself and Patton, and then more generally around the room, "You want it to be perfect. But, you know that perfection is unattainable, darling." 

Patton felt immediately flustered at the accurate summary. This man could read him like a book.

Logan quickly washed and dried his hands as he finished with the peppers, coming to stand in front of Patton. Instinctively, the emotional side leaned into him.

"You're right, as usual." He admitted into Logan's shoulder. Logan chuckled lightly, fastening his arms around Patton's waist.

"You know how much I love to hear that."

Patton grinned and giggled against Logan’s collarbone, his mood lifting considerably.

"Mhm!" 

"We should probably get back to work, though, if you’re ready." Logan reminded gently after a moment, slipping his arms down to entwine his fingers with Patton's.

"Yeah, good idea." 

They worked together in comfortable silence for a while, movements well-practiced and precise. Shifting to the side as the other reached to get an ingredient, ducking down as a pot was carried over head, as they worked in tandem for the millionth time.. Well, the figurative millionth, as Logan would specify. 

The two were waiting now, as the food cooked. It was Logan that spoke first.

"Oh, and for what it's worth, Pat?" 

"Hm?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You certainly shouldn't worry about the others judging your food, because I'm sure that Remus' standards at the very least aren't particularly high. As the kids would say," he pushed his glasses up on his nose, smirking, "That Gremlin man has trash taste."

Patton couldn’t help it, he launched into a giggling fit at Logan’s use of, as Virgil would say, ``Tumblr Talk”. He couldn’t even get it together to scold Logan for the insult. When he finally calmed down, he looked up to find a very proud looking Logan. Patton smiled as wide as he could, brighter than the sun, and wrapped his arms around Logan again. 

“Thank you,” Spoken as quietly as Patton could manage, with tremendous weight behind it. 

3- Roman

He didn’t notice it at first; the splintering of the glass casing surrounding the dark ink, the cracks forming in his ornate and elaborately decorated pen. Roman had to keep working, he’d gotten into a groove and he knew that this time he could get the story right, if only his damned hand could move as fast as his thoughts. If he stopped, it could be weeks before he found the motivation to work like this again. He lingered a second too long between sentences, and immediately a blotch of void-black liquid pooled on the paper. The creative side growled,clenching his fist in frustration. 

And the pen shattered.

Roman cursed loudly, pulling his hand away to hold it over the wastebasket by his desk (Which was already filled to the brim with discarded and crumpled drafts). Needle-sharp shards of glass had embedded themselves in his hand, the blood flowing around them barely visible through the dark ink. Roman’s breath shook as he hazarded a glance at his papers. They were soaked through with ink and blood, completely unsalvageable.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuck.” The side chanted, feeling tears of frustration and pain prick at the corners of his eyes. Hours of work, all wasted. He began frantically knocking the remnants of the pen and ruined papers into the overflowing wastebasket with his uninjured hand, cradling the other close to his chest. Alas, the papers below it were already botched up as well. Nothing remained of his efforts. A sound akin to a growl-sob escaped his throat.

And then footsteps stopped right outside of his door, and his breath hitched.

“Roman?” The door was pushed gingerly open, revealing a very concerned looking Logan. 

“What’s up, specs?” He said, feigning a superior smile. Roman tried to hide his obviously injured hand. There wasn’t a chance he was telling Logan, of all people, what had happened. After all, he was the side to insist that Roman take more breaks, as though it wouldn’t mess up his flow entirely. Yeah, he did not want to deal with the incessant reminder that Logan ‘told him so’. 

But Logan already had That Look on his face. That studying, prying look that got under Roman’s skin and saw through him with perfect clarity. It was as annoying as it was hot.

“Roman, let me see your hand."

Roman held out his undamaged hand and smirked.

“What’cha looking for, Microsoft Nerd?”

“You’ve used that nickname before," Logan walked into the room, stopping mere inches from Roman. "Show me your hand.”

Roman grumbled, tossing out his arm with more force and flair than necessary. Logan deftly caught his wrist and held it in place, careful not to press against the injured areas as he scrutinized the appendage. He sighed, locking eyes with Roman and wearing that "I’m not mad I’m just disappointed/concerned" look. That meant trouble. Wordlessly, Logan took Roman’s uninjured hand in his and led the trait over to the bathroom, sitting him down on the edge of the ornate tub that fills half the room. The side then arranged an array of first aid items on the counter around the sink, including a harsh-looking disinfected that Roman winced at the sight of. 

“So.” Roman muttered, kicking his legs.

“So?” Logan replied, sterilizing a pair of tweezers. Roman groaned, throwing his head back melodramatically.

“Aren’t you gonna lecture me, Bill Gay-tes? You're being weirdly quiet." 

"So you admit you need to be lectured for something?" 

Roman scoffed in offense, "Well, I just meant- You're always going on about something that I did, even if I was just-" Roman cut himself off with a sharp hiss of pain as Logan began picking the glass out of his hand with the tweezers, methodical as always. 

"Apologies, this is going to hurt."

"Yeah, thanks for the forewarning- fuck!"

Logan made short work of the shards of glass, pausing to examine the rest of the medical supplies.

"I think you already know what I'm going to say, Roman." He answered, finally.

"You're gonna say it anyway though, huh, Dweeb?" 

"Yes, as it clearly bears repeating." Logan had now moved on to cleaning and wrapping Roman's hand with immense care, "You are overworking yourself, Roman. You need to take a break. You’re going to hurt yourself… again.

“I can… understand how it feels when you get the figurative ball rolling on a project. But your health is more important than whatever it is that you are working on. You can’t keep doing this, I- I’m worried about you.” He hid his eyes as he focused on bandaging Roman’s hand, drawing in a deep breath. “Now, I suggest we give you a change of scenery before you drive yourself mad.” 

Roman was pulled to his feet, suddenly nose to nose with Logan (who looked, now that he could see his face, much more distressed). Roman reached up tentatively and he realized with a jolt of embarrassment that he was crying, just a little. He pressed his hands to his face. The bandaged one smarted a little, though it was much less painful than before. He knew that Logan was right, but he desperately needed to restart the story he had completely destroyed. The thought of starting over was impossibly daunting in the emotional state he was in, but he couldn’t dream of putting it off, either. But, then again… 

“Fine. I suppose I could part with my work for a few minutes; my writing hand needs time to recover, after all.” Roman dried his tears, but still stubbornly refused eye-contact.

Logan smiled, knowing full well that they were all ambidextrous. 

“Would you like to point out the various plot holes in The Princess and The Frog with me?”

“Oh, you know me too well.”

4- Remus

The common room was unusually empty. There was no Patton skipping around the kitchen cooking, or cozied up watching Parks and Rec on the TV. There was no Roman twirling and singing loudly while tidying, or ‘looking for inspiration’. There weren’t even any signs of Virgil or Deceit curled up in their chairs, listening to music while drawing and reading dusty old moral philosophy books, respectively. There was, however, a Logan entering stage left.

Remus glanced over at him quickly, and then bit his tongue. Literally. He was curled up in a tight little ball in one corner of the couch, mindlessly gouging deep slashes into its arm with his clawed fingers. He fitfully acknowledged Logan’s presence with a nod as the bespectacled side surveyed his surroundings. The energy of the common spaces was always neutral- it had to be- but Remus could feel the air around him tremble with excitement, hysteria, and millions of rushing thoughts and feelings as the power of his aura pushed outwards unnaturally. Internally, he fought to keep it all in, simultaneously dreading being alone and being around someone he’d inevitably upset.

“Have you heard of crushing videos? That’s when someone puts small animals on a glass table- Oh! with a camera underneath, of course- and they’re wearing big heels and- and can you guess what they do?” Remus blurted, giving a somewhat manic grin to Logan. The trait seemed to have finished assessing the situation and took a seat beside Remus, turning to face him. Well, that was unexpected.

“Yes, quite awful. Although, they’re usually quite hard to find.” Logan added without hesitation, or seemingly any concern. Remus almost felt relieved, before his brain immediately discarded the subject as soon as Logan tried to engage with it and scrambled to find something new. Something worse.

“Have you seen the movie Teeth, circa 2007?”

“Yes, I found it highly unrealistic. It had quite a satisfying- if a bit twisted- ending.”

Well, there goes that topic.

"What do you think it would be like to vomit and then have to re-eat it?" Surely that would cross a line. Fuck, why was he like this?

"Unpleasant, most likely." Logan wrinkled his nose slightly, but made no move to further the distance between himself and Remus. "The acidity would damage the enamel on your teeth, of course. Which is also why you shouldn't drink excessive amounts of lemon juice." 

"Why are you still here?" Remus snapped, the words coming out harsher than intended. Logan blinked at him in surprise.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Remus cried. He lurched across the couch, before pulling himself back (he'd been trying very hard to respect personal space; he hardly wanted to upset his new partners, if it could at all be avoided). “But, it doesn't make any sense. You should be upset, you should have already wanted to leave- fuck, I just keep- I make people uncomfortable. It’s what I do.”

Logan glanced around the room and nodded.

“I figured that's why it's so empty. It is odd how your powers are affecting the common space. The others can be… easily stressed.”

"It's not their fault! It's. It's me. But I didn't mean to!" Remus felt himself clawing the couch again, remembering how the room had emptied. Concerned looks shot towards him, because of course everyone could feel the room changing in a way it never should. They were trying to talk to him, help him, but the second he tried to speak out tumbled a disgusting stream of consciousness. As he was listing the crimes of Albert Fish, finally even Patton left, looking shaky and worried and apologizing quickly. Pat had spoken rapidly, much like Remus, and wow, had it really gotten that bad in here? Remus couldn't quite believe the apology, couldn't rid himself of the thought that if he didn't shove them away, they'd only keep pretending to be happy he was there. He couldn't stop. 

“Of course, it’s hardly anyone's fault. You clearly have a lot on your mind.” That managed to break Remus away from the spiraling thoughts (at least temporarily). 

"I guess so," He muttered, eyes downcast, "It's probably because I know I shouldn't be here. I feel it deep down, like a throbbing, oozing, pus-filled wound. I thought-" he broke off, for once unwilling to speak his mind as tears blurred his vision. 

"What do you think?" Logan prompted politely. 

"I thought that maybe, if everyone kept telling me that I could change, eventually I would." Remus was staring intently at the ground, tears spilling down his face. "But I'm just the same. I'm not- I'm not good like the rest of you! Dee and Virge got to be better, but I'm still… Wrong." He was desperately trying to keep the tremors out of his voice, but he was painfully aware of every waver and crack in his voice as he spoke. 

Without a moment's thought, an arm looped around Remus' waist and pulled him closer. Remus pressed against the other’s side instinctively, hands curling in the fabric of his shirt (careful not to tear it, of course). His words must have really struck a chord to elicit such a physical response from Logan of all people, something that was both worrying and weirdly comforting.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, cuddled together in the corner of the couch. After a while, the energy in the common room returned to its usual neutrality. When Logan finally broke the silence, Remus could hear him trying to keep the shake from his voice.

"Just so you know, we would not have invited you into this relationship if we expected you to be a different person. At least, that's the case for myself, though I’m sure the others would agree. You are here because you’re wanted here, Remus." 

Remus grinned, exposing stained fangs. He looked more tired than his usual self, but the mischievous sparkle had returned to his eyes.

"Love you too, you Sexy Pocket Square."

“Thank you?”

5- Virgil

Virgil pulled his headphones on, sinking into the music of Pierce The Veil. It was uncomfortably loud in his ears, but he didn’t mind much. He was tense, that was obvious. Every few minutes, he felt himself relax just a bit, but there was always just a little more tension in him, like there was one taut muscle he just couldn’t pinpoint and pull loose. Virgil let his eyes fall closed for just a moment, breathing deeply. 4-7-8, 4-7-8.

Yeah, no, that was not helping. Virgil’s eyes popped back open and he slid one of the headphones behind his ear, breaking the immersion but maintaining awareness. He pressed his back to the wall harder, eyes darting around the room. Nothing was wrong, which was exactly why everything was wrong. Everything was just a little off, just a little strange and bad, and the anxious side had no idea what it was that caused the wrongness.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true; It was just commonplace anxiety. Which, in Virgil’s opinion, made it all the more distressing. He knew it wasn’t going away, not when he tried to make it. It would stop when it stopped, or didn’t, with Virgil helpless to control it. He took off his headphones. He put them back on. Off, on, off, on. Eyes closed, eyes open, eyes closed, eyes open. Nothing worked. He gingerly placed a hand over his chest, feeling the intense pounding of his heart. With a deep, shuddering breath, Virgil drew himself to his feet to go make some tea. Tea was good, safe, easy, understandable. He could make tea.

The anxious side wobbled on his feet, feeling dizzy and unfocused, as though reality was slipping through his fingers like frigid water. Another breath followed by a shudder and gently opened the door and walked slowly down the mindscape stairs. Had he always walked like this? Was that how he was supposed to move his arms? There was no way the stairs were always this steep.

Entering the kitchen, it took Virgil five full minutes to gather the energy to remember where the tea was. It took another eight to set up the mug and put on the kettle, stare at the kettle for a while, and realize it wasn’t turned on. Finally, determining that the water was in fact boiling, Virgil hopped up onto the counter to wait, sitting criss-cross. 

A few more minutes passed, and Virgil began to notice that the silence was the very purposeful kind; the kind of quiet that was achieved by another presence deliberately being as silent as possible. He finally managed to focus his eyes on the table, at which sat one very confused looking Logan. 

“When did you get here?” Virgil asked, internally cringing at the way his voice felt in his ears. 

“Well, that can’t be good,” Logan replied, tipping his head to the side, “Are you alright?” 

Fuck, he was right. Virgil was getting everything just a little wrong, of course Logan noticed it! Like hell he’d admit it, though. This had happened before, he could manage this on his own. 

“I’m fine.” Virgil lied, catching the kettle as it began to shriek and pouring his tea.

“That’s funny,” Logan mused, looking back to his book, “I could have sworn you represented Anxiety, not Deceit.” 

“Ha Ha.” 

Virgil was spacing out again as the tea steeped, but it seemed Logan wasn't ready to drop the conversation. He snapped his book shut and he made his way across the room to stand in front of Virgil, keeping a respectful distance. The side’s hands were at his hips, his expression vaguely appraising. After a minute, Virgil began to squirm under the steady gaze.

“What?"

“You are extremely anxious.”

“No shit, L, what do you think I do here?”

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Virgil immediately felt guilty for his biting tone.

“Maybe… I’m a little more on edge than usual.” Virgil admitted sheepishly, hopping off the counter to finish preparing the freshly brewed tea. Logan just hummed, staying quiet. An offering. 

“I have no idea why, though,” The trait continued, picking at the frayed edge of his hoodie, “Everything feels wrong, and I don’t even know why.” Virgil's inability to articulate the feeling chewed at him, making him curl his toes in his shoes. 

From behind, Logan gave an intake of breath as though to speak before cutting himself off. Virgil figured this was another prompt to vent, and hesitantly continued. 

“So… I’m just trying to find some way to calm down? But everything I do just makes it worse. And it’s not new or anything, I just… it’s the kinda thing you don’t get used to, ya know? It comes out of nowhere and just fucks up my whole day. It’s like, I dunno- coming home and everything in your house is shifted one inch to the left, or whatever. It’s surreal, I guess.” Virgil sighed, pushing his violet bangs out of his eyes and leaning back against the counter. He took an experimental sip of tea and found it just cooled enough to endure. Something in his chest settled a little. A bit of normalcy crept it's way back into his vision. 

Logan leaned next to him silently, looking to Virgil for permission before entwining their hands. Virgil drank his tea and let himself breathe for a moment. There was still a slight shake to his movements, but his heart had slowed and his head cleared a little. A small smile crossed his lips. 

“How the hell did you do that?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Starlight.” Logan replied, ducking his head to hide his satisfied smile.

And the world felt a little more right.

+1 

Logan slid his glasses off his face, closing his eyes and groaning. He pushed his fingers against his eyelids and watched the dizzying bursts of color that kaleidoscoped across the darkness. He let his shoulders fall. He let himself stay like that for a few minutes, as though the insignificant little break could compare to a full night’s rest. Unsurprisingly, it only served to tire him more. 

His glasses fell back into place and his hands resumed their positions at the sleek keyboard. Logan’s fingers hovered just above the keys, staring blankly at the spreadsheets laid out before him. His eyes glanced across the words uncomprehendingly. For a moment, he had the ridiculous thought that he had, in fact, never known how to read in the first place. The confusion was quickly replaced by a wave of frustration at his very humanoid need for sleep, which was then followed by an overwhelming surge exhaustion. It was the kind of tired that sunk down into your bones and made all of your limbs weigh as much as lead. Figuratively, of course.

Logan didn’t realize he was drifting off, head in hand, until a sharp knocking on his door startled him awake. He took a moment to push his hair back before calling out. 

“Who is it?” 

“Tis I, the handsome and valiant- Ow!" The drawling voice was cut off by a dull thudding sound.

"Take it down a notch, Ssshakessspeare," a second voice hissed in a poorly contained whisper, "Thisss iss ssssserious, you extra bitch." 

Logan sighed, torn between feeling annoyed or feeling endeared. He stood and opened his door to find Roman and Deceit, standing side by side in the darkened hallway. Roman's hands were on his hips and his expression was challenging, while Deceit had all of his arms folded behind his back with a tired, exasperated smile. Logan felt guilt welling up in his chest, and quickly fought to suppress it.

“Can I help you? I'm very busy at the moment. there's some work I ought’ve finished last week that’s been stressing me.”

Deceit quirked a brow at that, a chuckle creeping into his words:

"Oh, it's obvious that you're stressed, Honey, you just uttered four consecutive contractions." 

Logan felt his face heat, prompting another, rather derisive laugh from Deceit. The logical trait cleared his throat.

“I really need to be getting back to work.”

“Aha!” Roman exclaimed, louder than necessary, “Hippocrates!”

“Hypocrite, my love.” Deceit corrected.

“Hypocrite!”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, sensing an argument brewing. He really did not have the time, or the energy, to fight. In fact, Logan noticed he was leaning fairly heavily on the framework for support.  

“What’re- What are you talking about?”

“I believe he’s talking about the fact that you recently delivered a few heartfelt lectures on the dangers of bad self care habits to some particularly grateful sides, and now they’re here to return the favor,” Deceit’s smirk widened in that infuriating way of his as he spoke, “You hypocrite.” 

With a sigh, Logan righted himself and offered the two a half-hearted glare.

"I don't suppose you would leave if I just promised to go to bed when you left?"

"Not a chance!" Roman called in unison with Deceit murmuring "I know when you're lying, love." 

After offering a few feeble arguments about the importance of his work to the creative process, Logan let the two loop and arm each around his waist and usher him down the hallway. If they insisted on holding him hostage for an hour or so, then fine. He could slip away when they inevitably got distracted and return to his work and totally not pass out at his desk.

"We're back, my Loves! Oh, and Remus, I guess." Roman exclaimed, a bit louder than Logan's liking. The latter inspected the scene before him with a mixture of appreciation, affection, and immense frustration. Remus was balanced precariously on the arm of the couch, grinning up at them and- miraculously- fully clothed. Beside him was Virgil, curled into one corner of the couch with his arms looped around Remus' waist to keep him from falling over. He wore a sleepy smile as he looked at Logan (whose reserve was already crumbling). Even worse (better?), just returning into the room with a tray full of various cups of tea, coffee, and hot chocolate, was Patton. He turned to give Logan a smile brighter than the sun upon noticing him (figuratively).

"Heya! Cookies are almost ready,” He greeted, beginning to hand out the beverages.  Roman and Deceit took their places in the steadily building cuddle pile, but Logan remained stiffly where he was. 

“What are all of you doing?”

“We’re holding you hostage and watching nature documentaries until you fall asleep, because we love you,” Virgil explained, “Bitch.” he added for good measure. 

Remus toppled off the arm of the couch into the others, opening his arms invitingly. 

“If you don’t come lie down with us on this couch right now there will be blood, and tears.”

Logan took a tentative step forward. And another. 

He supposed the schedule could come a bit late this week.

[petri808]

Awaken the Sleeping Dragon Within

Nalu Canon divergent, would take place after ft 100.  Here you go, I hope you like it!  :)  Lol it ended up longer than I’d expected.

Natsu moves with an extra spring in his step that morning.  The job was a mission complete with no damages and full payment given.  He’d found the perfect gift for Lucy that he’d been searching for and was now on his way back home to Magnolia.  The perfect weather was like a bonus treat that made his travel by foot a pleasant one.

Things had been progressing in their change of relationship status.  Through the whole 100-year quest, the shining revelation was not only that their bond could never be broken, but one that transcends the lines of simple friendship.  When he’d said ‘together forever’ it was a phrase uttered from the heart towards a person he knew he’d always want to be around.  But now he fully understood what it had meant, and it was time to solidify that phrase.  To take it from mere words to action and the gift he held in his pocket would do just that.

It would be another half-day’s journey to Magnolia, which meant he’d have to sleep under the stars one more evening.  Natsu didn’t mind so much.  As long as he could see them, they reminded him of Lucy, and that made him feel less lonely without her at his side.  The roads were quiet considering the holidays were so close in time.  Natsu remembers passing very few travelers, and in the last several hours, none at all.  Yet it was strange that he’d felt eyes watching him on a few occasions.

Just before nightfall, Natsu makes camp just off the side of the road in the first clear area he could find.  He sets up his bedroll, a small campfire, and eats dinner before lying down to get some rest.  The sooner he falls asleep, the faster the morning will come, and it doesn’t take long for mister sandman to come a calling.

There was little warning than a downward draft of air from above bringing with it…

‘What the hell?!’

Natsu jumps to his feet, awoken from a sound sleep by the scent of his brother blasting his senses.  He barely has a chance to dive away and block as a stream of fire burns his belongings to a charred pile and blackens the ground where he had just been occupying.

“Ignia!!!” He screams at the dragon hovering above. “What the fuck is your problem?!”  He was tired of these surprise attacks.  Four times now, but he was glad this time Lucy wasn’t around to be caught in the middle.  The last one… she’d almost been burned.

But Ignia simply bellows a guttural laugh and sends another blast of fire at Natsu in response.

The slayer dodges stream after stream of fire sent his way, lobbing blasts of his own the few chances he gets.  Ignia keeps up the volley at breakneck speed causing Natsu to endure a few near misses and a couple of singes.  Oh, this is ridiculous!  What kind of game was Ignia playing with him?!

As soon as Ignia pauses to change his flight pattern, Natsu takes advantage and lights up his feet.  He rockets himself toward his brother, sending his own crackling of flames to overwhelm Ignia long enough to compromise the dragon’s vision.  Then he uses a flame whip to lasso its neck.  Ignia thrashes at the binding, but it’s too late.  It gave Natsu just enough time to pull himself up and grab on to his brothers back, gripping tightly to the scales.  “Dad… and.. uncle Atlas… would be… so.. pissed… at you!”  He scoots up slowly, inching his way to the base of the dragon’s neck.

His brother bucks harder to get him off, free diving and suddenly banking one way or the other, doing anything and everything to throw Natsu off him.  “Fuck them, as if I care!”  He growls. “They did nothing for me and now they’re all dead!”

That pisses Natsu off!  How dare Ignia speak ill of their family!  “And you tarnish all they fought for by fighting me!  Spare me your sob story, I will not let you talk badly about Igneel like that, you selfish asshole!”  He lobs a ball of fire at Ignia’s head.  “Or Atlas!”  Another ball.  “Even he recognized me as Igneel’s son!”

Several more blasts are levied at Ignia’s head.  From this close proximity, the dragon can’t strain his neck far enough to retaliate or get a good hit on his brother, instead taking each one.  His skin may be immune to fire, but it’s effectively irritating.  There’s only one way he can think of to attack back.

He flames up his entire body.

At first Natsu’s screams pierce the dragon’s ears and he grins wide, assuming his brother still couldn’t handle his flames.  Several seconds tick on, but something changes.  Natsu’s screams die out.  Did he kill his brother?  That brings a wider-brimmed smile to his snout.  He grins and cranes his neck as far as it could go, but the sight that greets him quickly sullies his demeanor.

“It won’t work on me anymore… brother.”  Natsu’s own grin brings a great roar from Ignia.  The dragon bucks, but this time Natsu stands firm, holding tight to his flame whip now blue in color.  The slayer was covered in his brothers flames from head to toe!  The initial flame on had surprised him, hence the scream, but Natsu was able to slurp it up and take it in.

“You’ve learned to control it?!”  Ignia screams.  “I am a dragon god!  How can a mere human handle my flame?!”

Their last fight had hardened Natsu’s resolve to beat his brother once and for all.  It wasn’t a matter of choice, he needed to gain control over the flames to protect his loved ones.  Ignia didn’t need to know all the pain he’d endured to master this ability, but he will see the results.    

The longer he continues to soak up his brother’s flames, the more changes morph along his body.  Scales over his extremities and around his face.  Sharper claw-like nails and elongated canines.  Leathery wings with horn spiked joints and finally, serpentine pupils.  He was still humanoid, a hybrid of both worlds.  “Because I am no mere human.”  Natsu’s voice is low and full of pride.  “I’m a demon and the son of the Fire Dragon King!  For the sake of our father’s honor, I do not wish to fight you, but I will if you continue to threaten me or those I love!”

Ignia wanted to defeat his brother, but he wasn’t a fool either.  He could sense the gathering strength flowing through Natsu and the threat was not baseless.  This slayer or whatever he was, was not only on par with him power for power, but possibly even more so.  There was a strange feeling to Natsu’s energy…  ‘Tch, it’s that stupid love shit again!’  Ignia vaguely remembers his brother spouting nonsense about strength from family, friends, or something like that.  

“Well, brother?” Natsu narrows his eyes and concentrates his flames towards his hands, pooling, and growing balls of fire around them.  “Fight or live?”

“You’re bluff!”

Before Ignia finishes his retort, Natsu sends one ball, hitting his brother in the eye.  His fire, combined with his brothers explodes like white-hot shrapnel, burning through scale.  If Ignia hadn’t closed his eye soon enough, he would have been blinded.  

The dragon shrieks in pain, tossing his head from side to side to shake off the burning sensation.  It was unbelievable to Ignia that any fire could burn a fire dragon!  And one from this damn slayer!    

“I’ve come a long way,” Natsu reiterates, “there is nothing I won’t endure to protect.”

“Get off of me!” Ignia screams.  “Alright!  I’ll leave and go back to Guiltina!”

Natsu takes flight, hovering above and to the side of his brother.  “Don’t come back to Fiore, Ignia or I will not hold back!  I will slay you as we were originally conscripted to do!”  

The dragon blows out a puff of steam and without another word takes off towards the clouds.  Whether Ignia keeps his word or not will remain unseen, but for now, it was over.  Natsu looks down at the area he was sleeping in and remembers that his bedroll and backpack were destroyed, leaving him nothing to rest on.  He groans.  It was still a few hours till dawn, but with the wings, he could make it back to his cottage by morning.  He didn’t like staying in this form for so long because it drained his energy, but it might be better than sleeping on the hard ground.  ‘I’ll just sleep when I get home…’

It was a loud banging on his front door that rouses Natsu from another dead sleep.  “Come… coming…” He stumbles off the couch, wiping at the crusted drool on his cheek and chin.  His body ached all over, not painful, just sore, like every muscle was on strike and his vision was foggy.  His side bumps into the counter while trying to steady his wobbling gait.  “Oww!” Natsu grabs his side.  He looks down at where the pain was coming from and sees a large healing burn.  It was only then that his mind snaps together enough to focus and starts to inspect the rest of his body.  The burn was the worst injury he could see, but his top and vest were ripped or torn and barely hanging on his body, pants singed and tattered in a couple areas.    

Another loud bang on the door followed by a woman’s voice.  “Natsu?!  Are you in there?!!”  “He was supposed to be back by now,” the woman speaks in a lower tone as if turned away to another person.

Natsu shakes his head, even his hearing was fogged up, and his sense of smell.  That fight, nay, the transformation and holding it for hours is what zapped his reserves.  He could barely remember making it home.  The voice sure sounded like Lucy’s.  

Now a male voice.  “Are you sure?  Maybe the job ran late.”  

“But tomorrow is Christmas,” the woman replies, “he promised to be home by then.”

Wait a minute!  Natsu whips his head towards the door.  “Christmas?” he mumbles.  That means he’s been asleep for 3 days!  “Christmas?!”  He pushes away from the counter, trips over his own feet, but manages to grab hold of the doorknob, yanking it open.  “Lucy?!”

“Natsu?!”  She rushes up, throwing herself into his body, wrapping her arms tightly around him.  “Where the hell have you been?!  I’ve been so worried!”

“I…”

She pushes off to take a better look.  Immediately, Lucy’s joy at seeing her partner turns to a new range of emotions, going from happiness to sadness to anger in the span of nanoseconds.  “Oh, my Mavis!  What the hell happened to you?!!”

“Aannd, this is where I take my leave,” Gray takes a few steps back.  Natsu was confirmed alive, but now was in another level of trouble.  “See ya guys later.”  He makes a swift exit, leaving the rest to Lucy to deal with.  A lover’s quarrel was not something he was going to get in the middle of.

“Was it the mission?  Did something go wrong?  Who did this to you?!”  Lucy fires question after question in rapid succession, matching the speed at which her mind was flying in that moment.  Natsu was a total mess.  His singed and torn clothing was one thing but the large wound on his side was of a bigger concern.  She should run to get Wendy, but first, demanded answers!  Just as Lucy was about to lay into him with more questions, Natsu swoons on his feet.  His legs were buckling from exhaustion.  Lucy swings his arm over her shoulder to steady him and drags him back to his couch.  She brings him a glass of water, then when he finishes the drink, kneels in front of him.

Lucy takes a deep breath.  She was furious over being worried half to death but knew a fight wouldn’t accomplish anything.  Instead she places her hand upon his knee, looks up, and in a softened tone, “Spill it Natsu.  Tell me what happened.”

So, he does, starting from when Ignia attacked to flying all the way home after the fight, leaving out no details.  “I barely remember getting home or even passing out on the couch three days ago.  The dragon mode took a toll on my body.  I’m so sorry Luce, I never meant to worry you!  All I had wanted to do was…”  Natsu’s eyes widen, the gift!  He’d forgotten all about it!  Did it survive the flames?!  He reaches into his pocket and pulls the small box out.  Its packaging seemed okay, but as he opens it, Natsu’s heart sinks.  The metal ring of the band was melted and warped.  “Fuck!” He closes the cover and lifts his arm to throw it.

“Wait!” Lucy stops him, grabbing his arm and reaching for the box.  “Don’t!  What is that?”

“It was your Christmas gift,” Natsu’s head sinks, and his eyes fall to the floor.  “But it’s ruined.”

She was still trying to process the fight with Ignia and now this gift added another element to the mix.  Lucy wasn’t sure if she should be upset, or just happy that he’d become so powerful, because that growth had saved his life.  How about both?  “Next time Natsu, when there’s something important like this, you should talk to me about it.  I shouldn’t have to find out by surprise that you had trained to wield his fire or that you can control your dragon form.”

“I know…” he sighs.

Lucy sighs too, squeezing his knee.  “I’m annoyed… but I’m also excited that you’re home now and safe.”  She smiles, “I’ll help you get cleaned up, and go get Wendy to heal your wound, okay?”

“Gah!  I feel so bad, I don’t even have a Christmas gift for you now.”

She chuckles and waves her hand, “I don’t need a gift.  It’s the thought that counts, and besides, maybe it’s still repairable.”

Natsu grabs her hand, “it’s not… just a ring.  Lucy, I…. I was planning on proposing to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?”  Lucy pauses in shock, but quickly regains her thought process.  She starts to laugh, bringing a look of confusion to Natsu’s face, like his girlfriend has just lost her mind.  “I’m sorry for laughing,” she chuckles again, “Natsu a ring isn’t important.”  Her eyes crinkle in a smile.  “If you want to ask me, then just ask me.  You can fix the ring later if you still want to.”

“Really?!” That brings a wide-brimmed smile back to Natsu’s face.  “Wait,” he tilts his head, “is this a trick question?”  

That sends Lucy into another round of hysterics.  “No!” she laughs, “I’m serious!”

He pouts, “but I wanted to do the whole show, get down on one knee and stuff like they do in your books.”

Lucy smiles from his cute gesture and caresses his cheek, “then I shall wait as well to say yes…”

[twoblueheartslocked]

“Mini” Para: September/October Flashback(s)

Rating: PG-13/Soft R.

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Four years before the events of ( Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You ) Events taking place in September and October of Blaine’s Senior Year and Sebastian’s Junior Year. Blaine (17 as of this para) Seb(16).

Location: Lima and Westerville, OH- Sebastian’s house, Blaine’s house, McKinley High, Dalton Academy, the apple orchard.

Info: A glimpse into the months of September and October and the progression of Sebastian and Blaine’s relationship. Blaine celebrates his 17th birthday on October 22 with Sebastian by his side. They’re closer than ever. Deep feelings linger just under the surface and slap Blaine in the face. Sebastian has never felt so much. They decide to take their relationship a step further.

Warnings(PLEASE READ THIS!): This para includes non-graphic and mild descriptions of sexual situations between minors.  We’ve kept it as YA as possible. We are in NO way trying to spotlight sex between teens, we just wanted to show how natural and comfortable they are together and the progression of their relationship. It will be, for the most part, glossed over in the future until they’re older. There will be absolutely no smut written until they’re adults. If anyone feels we’ve taken it too far please let us know and we will fix it. (Under Cut for length and content.)

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Blaine’s POV:

The month of September had flown by Blaine in a whirlwind of giddiness and a permanent smile that Blaine didn’t know what to do with. If you would have told him a year ago that Sebastian would be the one to make him feel this way he’d have laughed. The Seb that had introduced himself to Blaine was too full of himself, too cocky and seemingly only wanted one thing. Sure, there were still little glimpses of the cheeky boy he’d met all that time ago, but the Seb he got to snuggle into and kiss whenever he wanted was so much more. They’d spent September getting to know each other a little bit better. School was in full swing and Blaine was only struggling a tiny bit to juggle time with his McKinley friends and Sebastian. His friends, with the exception of Sam, didn’t understand why Blaine wanted to be near Sebastian let alone with him. All they saw was the bully of the past, the one that had accidentally almost blinded Blaine. They were mad at Blaine for ending things with Kurt even though he’d told them that they both agreed this was better. He’d told them over and over again that Seb wasn’t what they thought at all, that he was good and could be kind and that he treated him well. But, Blaine couldn’t seem to articulate what their very real relationship meant to him. He supposed all that mattered was that it was real and pure and Blaine never wanted it to end. He wanted to stay wrapped up in this feeling  and Sebastian for the rest of his life.

They’d spent September and early October taking turns going to each other's concerts. Blaine sitting next to a welcoming but stiff Mr. Smythe and a sweet smiling, sharp tongued Mrs. Smythe as Sebastian lead his Warblers in their croonings. And Blaine would get to shyly pull Sebastian into a hug afterwards and would always look up at Seb as if asking for permission to kiss him in front of his group, not knowing if it was acceptable or too much, to which Seb would blush a little, fight a smile and then lean down and press the quickest kiss to Blaine’s lips like they’d been steady and together for years. Blaine loved it. They’d even mastered ignoring the obnoxious whoops from Hunter. Plus, getting to go to Dalton more made it so Blaine got to see a few of his old friends more often, namely David and Nick which pleased him as he’d missed them both so much.

And Blaine loved it when he was singing up on stage with the New Directions and he looked out and saw Seb clapping along for him, sitting only a little awkwardly with Blaine’s sweet mother and his sleepy father. Sebastian always looked so damn proud and a little awed as he looked up at him on the stage, not a single jealous glint in his eyes. Seb would meet him backstage, his comments about public schools and the like long gone as he shrugged off the suspicious glances from Blaine’s other friends in favor of congratulating him with a ‘You were flawless, Killer’ and a smile that was built just for him. Seb would shake hands with Sam, the only one of Blaine’s friends that actually took the time to talk to Seb. 

And as the seasons turned a little colder, Blaine relished in the way a faux grumpy Sebastian would curl into him as they’d take their park walks,  groaning about how it was too cold too early even though it hadn't yet dipped lower than 60 degrees outside. It was how Sebastian had ended up with Blaine’s New Directions competition sweatshirt with his last name in big letters on the back. The sight of the garment on Sebastian’s body made him feel dizzy and stupidly happy. Everything about the two of them together, from the day time rides to look at the changing Autumn leaves, to the nighttime stretches of comfortable silence as they looked up at stars, Seb letting Blaine tell little stories about the ones they could see- it all felt perfect. And everytime he let himself get caught up in thinking too hard about what they were and what he was feeling, he’d pull Sebastian into his arms and kiss him so thoroughly that any feelings he might let slip stayed hidden behind his teeth.

It was as Blaine was sitting on the floor of his bedroom in front of his mirror on a crisp, late October morning (his birthday weekend to be exact), getting ready for a newly licensed Sebastian to come pick him up for his birthday date, his stomach flippy at the thought of getting to spend the whole day with him- that he allowed himself to really sit and think about the two of them. About what the last three months had meant to him. He looked at himself in the mirror, his brows arched, and eyes worried. He bit his lip as if he were about to have a scary and raw conversation with himself. 

It seemed impossible but in a short yet wonderful time Blaine had fallen in love so hard he was overwhelmed with it. He wanted to scream it in the streets to anyone that would listen, yet he also wanted only to take it out when he was alone, safe under his covers so that only he could see and feel it. He chose the latter, of course. He was almost embarrassed by the emotion swelling inside of him.

Blaine had been in love before, sure, for a time he had loved Kurt. He truly had. But, over time his love for Kurt had changed, became more of a competition. Or maybe it had always been that way, he didn’t know anymore. They had just warped, and they had figured out they weren't actually very good with each other. Too many fights over nothing, and both of them kept reaching for control and neither one of them were willing to relent. Plus, most days it seemed Kurt wanted a trophy, someone he could show off not someone that could show himself off. And Blaine had spent all of his time trying to be the thing Kurt so desperately wanted and in the end, it hadn’t worked. Kurt was still annoyed with him and Blaine was still exhausted with it. So their relationship had left them both with a bitter taste. However, loving Sebastian felt different and being with Sebastian… it was like breathing. And the thought of not being with him felt a lot like suffocating.

It scared the fuck out of him how hard and fast falling in love with Sebastian Smythe had happened to him. One second he’s smitten and has butterflies that refuse to calm and the next he’s struck with a sure and bone deep feeling that Sebastian was it for him. He was so damn sure of it. Like fate and the universe and maybe even god were screaming it at him and yeah, he was only just seventeen but it felt real and desperate and extraordinary... but he was so afraid to mess up what they had. Afraid that if he asked for a label or spoke the feverish feelings he had for him out loud or too soon that Seb, wild and beautiful and free Seb, would just run away, slipping through Blaine’s fingers and he’d never get him back. 

Their exclusiveness was unspoken- Blaine had stopped appeasing Kurt’s sporadic flirty texts and Seb had stopped going to Scandals, he only bothered with his phone when his mom called and he facetimed Blaine almost nightly before going to sleep- just to talk about nothing. They were together, he knew that. And he knew Seb felt something. The other boy looked at him like he was someone important, someone he’d be crushed to live without. But Blaine didn’t dare chance asking what that something was. Instead he kept his I love you close to his heart and called Sebastian his in his head even though he wanted nothing more than to tell him. To see if he’d smile that smile and maybe kiss him before maybe saying it back. The thought was incredible and Blaine was lost in it for a moment...

The ring of the doorbell pulled him from his whirlwind thoughts, and he could hear Sebastian greeting his mom- Imelda’s girlish giggle bringing a soft smile to Blaine’s lips. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping he could get through the night without spewing poetry of love and devotion at Sebastian. 

 “God, get your shit together, Anderson. Don’t scare him away.” 

He sighed and stood up before making his way down stairs, his face breaking into a smile as his tiny mother and his tall Sebastian came into view. “I hope you’re not giving Seb too much grief about curfew, mom. It’s Midnight tonight, right? I mean, it’s Friday after all.” He teased, knowing it was still an eleven pm curfew for him. His mom surprised him though, glancing between him and Seb before shrugging. “Maybe I’ll be asleep and won't notice.” She kissed Blaine’s forehead, making him blush. She gave him a pointed look that said no later than Midnight and gave Seb’s shoulder a squeeze before breezily making her way to the kitchen. 

Blaine turned to Seb, smiling up at him before shyly tip toeing up for a hello kiss that said so much more than hello.

“Hey you. So, where to today? Any hints?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian had never pictured this for himself. Okay, okay...yeah, sure he was only 16 and had his whole life ahead of him. He still never thought he’d have romantic gestures or somebody that treated him like a gentleman. When Seb pictured his future it was all business and school and Paris and him doing whatever he wanted even if he secretly craved romance and closeness beyond anything physical. Summer had changed things, though. He and Blaine had sort of fell together in such an easy way that it couldn’t be explained or replicated. September was full of dinner dates and kissing under porch lights and sharing jackets and hoodies. They were inseparable and Sebastian wouldn’t change a thing and he knew that was so fucking corny. It was true, though. His future seemed different now, he was different now. He didn’t miss partying at Scandal’s or sneaking out and he blocked numbers in his phone that he didn’t need anymore. 

It was the week after Blaine’s birthday and it was their turn to celebrate together. Sebastian had learned that Blaine loved seasons and had experienced first hand how good he was at baking and cooking and had watched him hum to himself as he made various things for Sebastian to try. Sabine had grown used to Seb’s requests to have the kitchen to themselves and she had once again relented. He had planned to take Blaine to an orchard to pick apples and do other various autumnal things that he’d swoon over before they came back to bake apple pies. Sebastian tried researching pie ingredients but just confused himself. He was far from a  natural in the kitchen. He asked their cook to write down the components  for him in detail before he took the list to a grocery store and bought all of the various things needed to make a pie from scratch. He even grabbed a box of sugar cookies shaped like pumpkins and fall leaves and a pumpkin spice latte scented candle as an extra little gift. 

Sebastian dressed in crisp, new jeans paired with his black converse and a Dalton Lacrosse fleece over a green and blue striped tee shirt. He sprayed some cologne (probably a little too much) and stole a cigarette from his mother’s pocketbook before leaving with his new (birthday gift) car. He smoked the cigarette and blared the radio as cold fall air rushed through the windows. Sebastian was excited to see Blaine’s face when he told him what they’d be doing that afternoon. 

He parked his car in the Anderson’s driveway and rang their doorbell. Sebastian greeted Blaine’s mother with a gentle handshake. “Hey Mrs. Anderson. You look wonderful today.” She was a petite woman with big gold eyes that matched her son’s and a pretty smile.  She patted Sebastian’s arm and giggled. Suddenly, Blaine was making his way down the stairs and Seb’s stomach did a little flip. After Imelda left the two of them in the foyer, Seb leaned down to meet Blaine half way for the small kiss that gave him a shock all the way to his toes. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to kissing the other boy. 

“We’re going to an orchard. I thought that we could pick apples and then go back to my place to make pies. I’ll even try to help, if you want me to.” 

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine reluctantly pulled away after their kiss, if he had it his way he’d have stolen a few more before they left. He truly could never get enough of Seb’s lips on his. Besides, Seb smelled so good it was dizzying. There was a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke in Sebastian's kiss that just did something to Blaine, and he knew he should hate it, it was bad for Seb after all, but the taste and the rebellion of it all excited him in a way that would have embarrassed him if anyone else were to see. He wondered if Sebastian had stolen it from his mother again. He’d laughed at Blaine’s scandalized face when he’d confessed his bad habit, an easy sound that made Blaine feel giddy. The lingering smoke mixed with the strong cologne Sebastian favored left Blaine hoping the concoction of scents would rub off onto his clothing so he could hold onto the day later on. He pressed himself into Seb’s side, his arm slipping around his waist as they made their way to the car, his face turned up to Sebastian’s to listen to his words.

His stomach gave a little flip at the plans Seb had for them, that overwhelming first big drop of a roller coaster feeling and it all made Blaine smile so wide that his face hurt. It was like Sebastian had known him for years. Knew that he strived when he got to do the things he loved and had people in his corner while doing them. Sebastian, who he’d spent such a short time with, knew that Blaine loved to perform and sing and play and loved to cook and struggled at reeling himself in when he was caught up in his passions. It made Blaine want to blurt his feelings right there.

Sometime after transferring to McKinley… for Kurt. Kurt had started to resent him, or maybe he had always been that way with him. He could remember all the eye rolls over his impromptu performances at Dalton. How annoyed Kurt would get. And how Kurt had stopped caring when he did well, made Blaine feel like maybe he shouldn’t do well. This was the Kurt that would complain when Blaine would cook for him or roll his eyes when set up picnics for them in parks. He could still hear the ringing of Kurt's words in his ear; I used to get solos every week. And do you know how many times I've had to sit on a stool and watch you perform? Or the time Kurt had actually spit the cookies out that Blaine had spent hours perfecting because they were too sweet. Blaine knew he wasn’t perfect, but it always hurt. He didn’t need to be praised, he didn’t need to be told that he was amazing or have his ego stroked when he did well. He just wanted his boyfriend in his corner, wanted to impress him the way he did when they first met and as time went on Blaine wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Things he felt passionate about had started to feel like taboo or things that might trigger Kurt and cooking became one of those things along with singing and performing and playing...

But with Sebastian… with Sebastian he felt everything so much. Here was this boy who showed up to every single show he did even though the kids at McKinley treated him like he was the same old bully, and he’d clap and smile like he’d never seen anything better. Sebastian who ate every single thing Blaine made for him as if it were the best thing in the world and made Blaine believe it, too. The boy who loved going on late drives and blasting bad pop music and who didn’t try to bend him into the shape of Blaine he wanted. Seb just wanted Blaine to be what he was and Blaine was so floored by it. He didn’t know it could be this way, that you could just be with someone. That you could compliment each other without venom. 

“That’s so freaking sweet, Seb.” He stopped at the passenger door to Seb’s new, and incredibly expensive car, and turned before getting in so he could pull Sebastian to him, wrapping his arms around his waist so that their bodies were perfectly pressed together. He tilted his head back and tipped up for another kiss, letting this one linger for a little bit longer as a thank you. He smiled as he pulled back, his tone teasing. “Maybe I’ll let you cut the apples up for me.” He winked and got into the car. He’d let Sebastian do whatever he wanted as long as he kept looking at Blaine the way he was right now. Even if it meant ruining a perfectly good pie.

The whole ride there Blaine couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. Every song that came through the speakers seemed to be written just for them in some way shape or form. Sebastian, who was used to sitting in the passenger seat, had even mastered the art of holding Blaine’s hand or knee while he drove. It even seemed as if the Autumn leaves were falling in glorious shades of reds and yellows and oranges as they drove through them. The cascade of color guided them to their destination, and as they walked up to the little shop to get their baskets for apples he couldn’t help but notice how good they looked together. Sebastian in his fleece and converse, his light brown hair perfectly swooped, looking soft and touchable and holding hands with Blaine in his dark yellow cardigan with fashionable brown and blue patches in the elbows covering a fitted dark red shirt and cuffed dark jeans, ankles exposed and showcasing his dark brown top siders. They looked like they fit together and Blaine just wanted to tell everyone that looked their way, that yes, they were in fact, together.

“We should get a bunch of this kind to make a sweet apple crumble pie and then go find the granny smiths so that we can make a caramel apple pie. You know, like the caramel apples they sell here? The tartness of the granny smith will pair so well with the sweetness of the caramel.” He grinned up at Seb, excitement in his voice as he looked around at the different shapes and shades of apples. His basket was looped in the crook of his elbow, and he was holding up a giant bright red orange Honey crisp apple in his free hand.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian watched Blaine walk through the apple trees and thought to himself that he looked fucking perfect. He nodded along as Blaine talked about the pies and wondered if he had bought any caramel. He didn’t think he had so he sent a quick, sneaky text to his Mom to see about acquiring some. “Those sound great.” 

He laughed as Blaine clutched the apple in front of his face. “You look like Snow White.” Sebastian cocked his head and smiled, “I mean that in the best way of course. Like a prince.” He swiped the apple from the other’s hands and took a big bite of it before leaning in and stealing a kiss. “Let’s go pick some apples.” 

The afternoon was spent with Sebastian reaching apples that Blaine couldn’t, tripping over rotten apples on the ground, and lots of laughing and kissing in  between the rows of trees. They picked way too many and Blaine fretted over the price but Seb just waved him off and said he could take the extras home to his mom. He bought them a large apple cider slushie to share, biscuits covered in gooey apple butter, and apple dumplings with lots of cinnamon and vanilla ice cream. Sebastian encouraged Blaine to pick out some fudge as a part of his gift  and bought them hot apple ciders for the ride home. 

“When we get back I thought that we could watch a scary movie. After the baking, of course.” Sebastian squeezed Blaine’s knee and watched the road. “I mean, I know they’re one of your favorites.” It wasn’t a totally selfless act. He hated scary movies and scary things in general but he wanted to get close to the other boy on the couch. Seb thought that maybe Blaine would wrap his arm around him or pull him close since he knew that he got scared easily.

Sebastian mostly stayed out of the way in the kitchen. He did cut a few apples but they were so uneven that he couldn’t stand it (Blaine was fine with it but Seb was a bit of a perfectionist at times.) He did however score some caramel. Sabine had sent their housekeeper out and she had bought about five different types. “You can take all of the extra ingredients, if you want. You know I’ll never use them again. This shit is like mad science.” Seb was, however, an excellent taste tester and got to lick every spoon and have the first bite of the fresh pies at the other boy’s insistence. He put a red birthday candle in a slice for Blaine and sang him happy birthday. “Make a wish, B. Don’t wish for me because you have me already.”  He winked and watched Blaine’s eyes crinkle with laughter in the dim candle light. 

After they cleaned up their mess the two of them made their way to the basement. They usually found themselves down there. They’d made out on the couch a few times but it always got cut short by curfew or a rehearsal that needed to be attended. Seb had timed everything out pretty perfectly today so they would have plenty of alone time. He handed Blaine the remote and told him he could pick any scary movie on Netflix before he stretched out his long legs on the couch and patted the spot behind him. 

“Come on, birthday boy. Just pick one!”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s lips were still sticky with taste from the apple and kiss Sebastian had stolen from him. They were still curved into a smile as the two of them made their way around the colorful orchard of red, green and purple apples, pumpkins of various shades or brilliant oranges and greens on either side of them as they ate too many sweets and Sebastian bought him too many apples. His cheeks hurt from their laughter and his body was still tingling from each kiss.  He was still blushing from Seb’s compliment, his cheeks heated in the October chill as they drove home, hot apple cider warming them up. It was like Blaine’s  very own Rom-Com, something Sebastian secretly loved but would never admit to anyone but him and maybe his own mom. Blaine never wanted the credits to roll. 

Sebastian really and truly was terrible in the kitchen, he didn’t know what things were called, he cut crooked and spilled sugar and caramel all over the place but Blaine didn’t complain, he absolutely loved having him there. Loved that the green eyed man would steal slices of apples and would make little noises that boarded on pornographic every time Blaine made him take a bite. His stomach hurt from giggling and he couldn’t keep a straight face every time he said “Stooop, Seb.” Because he didn’t want him to and Seb’s mischievous face made Blaine feel dizzy every time it was shot his way. 

Not only had Blaine made four very expensive pies, Blaine had convinced Sebastian to keep one because why shouldn’t he? He had helped after all. He could share it with his mom and maybe even his father if he felt like it- Sebastian had also gotten him a candle that smelled like someone had bottled Autumn up and the cutest little leaf sugar cookies. It was no secret that Blaine loved sugar cookies of all shapes and sized and these had come from his favorite bakery. He also ended up with a bunch of pricey ingredients that Blaine already had Thanksgiving plans for. (Blaine’s mom had been encouraging him to invite Seb to the holiday dinner but Blaine had been too nervous so far. He had a whole month to work up the courage though.) Blaine’s body was buzzing with sugar and attraction and he felt like he may never sleep again.

His smile felt permanent as Sebastian sang to him in a silly voice that gave away nothing of the clean and pretty voice that Blaine had been privileged enough to her but, it made him laugh and Blaine could swear that the pie tasted even better with the red candle and song attached to it. He blushed for what had to have been the hundredth time when making his wish. Because he had, in fact, wished for Sebastian. He wished for him to be his always. To stay with him just like this, stupidly happy and hopeful. It was silly, and ridiculously romantic and high school relationships rarely worked, and they weren’t even voicing what they were out loud to each other, but he was over the moon with Seb and in love and god, Seventeen might just be his best year yet.

“If I told you what I wished for it wouldn’t come true and I really freaking want it to.” 

He winked, trying to play it cool but inside he was bubbling with the words; Make a wish, B. Don’t wish for me because you have me already. It meant more to Blaine than Sebastian could possibly know, it told him he probably wasn’t alone in his feelings.  “I’m yours, too you know.” He told Sebastian softly after they had cleaned up and made their way down the stairs. His stomach flipped when Seb pulled the basement door closed behind him. It was only 8:22 pm. Blaine had over three hours of alone time with Sebastian before he needed to leave. Seb’s mom and dad usually didn’t bother too much with them unless it got too late or Blaine’s mom called to check in on them or to remind them they had a practice to get to, but they had nothing but a midnight curfew tonight. Blaine’s mind was going crazy with what ifs as he toed his shoes off and placed them neatly against the wall and then shrugged his cardigan off and placed it nicely over the back of one of the chairs. 

“Are you sure you want to watch a scary movie? Halloween is only two days away and you’ve already promised a spooky night then, you don’t have to torture yourself twice, you know.” He teased, taking the remote from Sebastian's fingers. “We could watch an Autumnal rom-com and call it night.” He laughed, smiling with the tip of his tongue between his teeth, flirting to hide his nerves. Seb seemed intent on watching something scary for him though and Blaine couldn’t be mad, he’d get the chance to hold him all the more when Seb got scared. 

Basement didn’t seem to fit this room. It was huge and finished and could basically be a luxury apartment. There was a bar and a living area and a bathroom and a game area that rarely seemed used. Seb had turned off the lights leaving them with just the glow of the big screen. It was dark and intimate and Blaine hoped he didn’t mess up as he grinned at the other boy before climbing over Sebastian’s body and pressing himself between the back of the soft, wide couch and Sebastian’s lithe body. How many times have they made out down here, their hands all over each other's arms and neck and fingers pressing into hips and tangled in hair and jawlines? Usually there was more light on and they had less time, but they had so much right now. He licked his lips as he snuggled into Seb’s back, propping himself up with his free arm so that he could see the television properly as he tried to focus on the movies. He settled on Scream.

“This film has a really badass final girl and the boys, though dumb, aren’t hard to look at either. Plus, it’s not so scary that you'll be calling me at two in the morning because you can’t sleep. Not that I’d mind.” He grinned and kissed Seb’s cheek before reaching up to lie the remote down on the end table. The tips of his bare toes were tangled up in Seb’s socked feet and Blaine smiled to himself as he pressed even closer. Sliding his arm around Sebastian’s waist when the other boy tensed up at the visual of Ghost Face chasing a screaming Casey around. And somewhere between the death of Steve and the loss of Sid’s virginity to that idiot Billy, Blaine found himself watching the veins in Seb’s neck move each time he got scared more than the movie. 

He bit his lip, wondering if Seb had thought about maybe taking things further than kissing and while Blaine totally didn’t need that, he was insanely happy with kissing Sebastian Smythe breathless- yet he still found himself moving forward until his  nose was nuzzling into Seb’s hairline and then he was pressing a kiss to the back of his freckle dusted neck, tentatively at first asking for consent, and then kissing from the back of his neck and down the side and along the long expanse of it, stopping the suck gently where his neck met his shoulder when Seb gave it by turning his head so Blaine could do it better. Blaine could feel the other’s heartbeat in his lips. Sebastian tasted like a crisp Autumn day and apples and Blaine let out a little noise of pleasure, his fingers tightening in Sebastian’s shirt where he was holding him close, knuckles pressing against Seb’s stomach, their bodies lined perfectly together, his excitement too evident.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian’s lack of horror movie knowledge might have been embarrassing if he cared. Sometimes Hunter gave him shit about how he never understood certain movie references or how easily he jumped at simple scares. He’d act all tough before whatever movie Hunter picked began and then wince at the first loud noise. Sebastian had never watched Scream and that fucking mask was sort of creepy but it was Blaine’s birthday so he just nodded and encouraged him to turn it on. 

He felt a flip in his stomach when Blaine crawled over him to cuddle up against his back. This was a good sign. Sebastian had been daydreaming about taking the next step with Blaine for weeks. He didn’t want to pressure him or make a fool out of himself or prove the rumors that Santana had started about him at McKinley were true. Sure, there was some truth to the problematic shit the New Directions said and Seb acted like he didn’t care but it wasn’t like that with Blaine. He didn’t need his stupid friends pointing fingers at what they had when what they had was so perfect and all he wanted to do was keep it safe. All of that being said, they seemed to fall on the same page like usual. 

Sebastian tried to focus on the movie and the attractive cast but could feel Blaine’s breath against his neck (which was a very sensitive area for him) and could feel his strong body pressed close against him. Even the scares were dwindled a little bit with how distracted his mind and body felt. 

He swallowed and squirmed a little when he felt the other’s lips against the back of his neck. There was no way Sebastian would ever be able to focus now. Blaine’s lips were on his skin, his hand knotted in his tee shirt and his breath ghosted along his hot skin. Seb’s neck fell back naturally as if they had done this a million times and he sighed. He could feel Blaine through their jeans and his pulse jumped, his hands felt shaky and everything felt brand new and real. Sebastian turned his head, “kiss me.” He wanted to taste Blaine’s lips, he knew they’d taste like sugar and the cherry chapstick that drove Seb crazy. Sebastian put his free hand on the other’s jaw and looked into his eyes washed in the blue glow of the tv. 

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tried his hardest to keep himself from getting too eager at Sebastian’s words, but his skin was buzzing and he was full of want and a desperate need to be as close as possible to his person. He let out a slow breath, sliding the arm that he was propping his head up with down and under Sebastian's head, cradling it in the crook and moving Seb’s body so he was on his back. He was so thankful the couch cushions were deep and they both fit perfectly. His eyes roamed over Seb’s face, taking in the perfect slope of his nose and front teeth visible between parted lips before settling on Seb’s eyes, the blue of the television making them look like the sea meeting a blue sky and his breath caught as he was once again struck with how damn attractive Sebastian was. He licked his lips, wanting to show Sebastian how much all of this meant to him. Make sure that the other boy knew that no matter what happened he’d still be head over heels for him in the morning. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Seb’s and his eyes fell shut as his tongue traced the line of his lips before slipping past teeth to tangle with Seb’s. His fingers that were tangled up in Seb’s shirt moved to slowly slide just underneath it, his callused fingertips caressing Seb’s sensitive skin just below his belly button. His breathing was shallow as he pulled back and turned his body so he was lying on Seb’s hip, his top leg hooking over Seb’s leg that was closest to him. They were so close, so perfectly lined up that Blaine was struggling to keep his cool. All he had to do was scoot just a bit more and he’d be fully on top of him. His heart fluttered at the thought, but he held himself in place, he didn’t need to go that far tonight, they had plenty of time for that, forever if Blaine had it his way. What Blaine really wanted to do was touch him, wanted to make Sebastian squirm under his fingers. He wanted to make it so that the other boy forgot about anyone else that came before him. Seb had told him a few stories, the fun ones along with the bad times he’d had. He knew about the Lacrosse boy and Scandals with older men he’d met and how he’d had a scare with one of them before and Blaine wanted to show him it didn’t have to be like that. That sex, of any kind, didn’t need to be fast or uncomfortable or awkward. He wanted to make him feel good and wanted and safe.

“Can I, um-touch you?” He asked, his lips close to Seb’s ear, stumbling in his nervousness and his desire to make this perfect. He could feel as much as hear the word Please breathed against his neck sending shivers down his spine as Seb pushed his hips against Blaine’s crooked knee. He pulled back so he could look at Seb in the blue glow as his fingers, shaky and nervous, inched from his belly to the button on his jeans and then the zipper was down and then the fabric was pushed down and away and there was nothing between them as Blaine wrapped his fingers around Seb and leaned down, kissingkissingkissingtouching until Sebastian was squirming and gasping into his mouth and Blaine was pressing himself into Sebastian’s side for the friction and the world warped and blurred when the other boy purred his name and held onto Blaine as Seb fell apart like putty in his hands.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian knew that the moment may have seemed simple compared to some of the things he had gotten up to in the past. None of that shit would ever compare because this was Blaine, Blaine who paid attention and asked permission and who kissed him with his eyes closed. Blaine, who Sebastian actually wanted to kiss and hold hands with and go on dates with. He would trade all of his messy nights for this one moment with Blaine’s strong hands on his skin, his lips all over his neck and lips and his little moans and gasps. 

Seb sighed and squirmed underneath Blaine. His hands were in his hair and it was totally going to be sticking up at random angles when this was over. He could feel him pressed into his side and that paired with his hand and his kisses was all it took for Sebastian to unravel underneath the other boy.  

The two of them held on to each other, all ragged breaths and desperate touches as they clung together. Sebastian leaned in for one last, deep kiss before he pulled away with a toothy smile. He laughed and shivered, his body still reeling from the moment. “Can I…?” Sebastian placed his hand over the other’s zipper to ask permission before he crawled in between his legs and slid down his body.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s lips were swollen with kisses and he was achy with so much desire caused by everything Sebastian and the way he had fallen apart under his fingers. The vision was beautiful and he’d pretty much forgotten about himself until Seb was grinning his imperfectly perfect smile, his teeth on full display and asking with a breathy laugh and then moving himself down and down and down and Blaine was breathing pleases into the air as screams from a forgotten horror movie played in the background. His fingers kneading and then pushing at Sebastian’s shoulders and hair, tousled in their touches, trying to warn him that he was falling, but Seb was relentless and Blaine fell so hard he saw the stars. 

His hands were shaky when he pulled Sebastian up to him for another kiss, grasping at him to keep him close as if he’d fade away and Blaine would never find him again no matter how hard he looked. And for a terrifying split second, as Blaine looked up into Sebastian’s green blue hues the words were there iloveyou and they almost slipped right past his teeth and lips and into Sebastian’s ears. His breath hitched and his words thankfully stumbled because how naive did you have to bed to tell someone you loved them right after sex just because you felt close them? He knew what he felt but he also knew how bad that would go and everything was so damn perfect right now. So his bit his lip and stole another kiss, his hands cupping Sebastian’s face gently, like he might break if he moved too fast.

“I guess we missed the movie.” He said it as if it actually mattered and let out a sudden laugh, his face so hot he wondered if Sebastian could feel the heat radiating off of him. He let his arms slide from Seb’s face and down to his waist and turned them so that they were once again facing each other. He ducked his head, feeling the shyest he’d ever felt as he nuzzled into Sebastian's neck.

“I- that was amazing.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed. His skin felt hot and he could tell that he was covered in goosebumps because every time Blaine touched him he felt overexposed and sensitive in a really good way. It felt like electricity sparking under his skin or like a whoosh of chilly winter air and it made his stomach jump and his voice catch in his throat. 

“We can watch it again someday, I mean...if we don’t get distracted.” He closed the space between them and stole a kiss before he nuzzled into the other’s neck for a moment. “It was. Are you happy?” Sebastian kept his face hidden for a moment, his cheeks red at the sudden vulnerability. 

“This is great but um, I really need to change.” He bit his lip to stifle his laugh. “Come upstairs with me. You should probably clean up,too. We’ll use my bathroom.” The two of them made their way upstairs, giggling and poking each other and tripping over themselves as Sebastian shushed them only to laugh some more. He pulled Blaine into his bedroom and quietly shut the door. He pointed at the bathroom in the corner of his room so that Blaine could tidy himself up a bit as he changed his pants. Seb felt giddy and satisfied as he pulled on a grey pair of sweatpants and changed into a white and green quarter length sleeve baseball tee. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table and felt a surge of sadness because Blaine needed to be home soon which meant they probably needed to head to the car. Sebastian wished Blaine could just stay the night and that they could climb into his bed and cling together and fall asleep laughing and kissing and sighing. 

“We should probably head out soon.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tried not to laugh but the sound slipped out and he shook his head, “Something tells me we’d end up getting distracted, I’ll tell you all about it if you wanna know how it ends one day.” He let his arms rest gently over Sebastian as the other boy snuggled into him, hiding his face like he was suddenly the shy one. He wanted to laugh and tell Sebastian that he was the happiest he’d ever been in his life. Wanted to tell him about the crazy fast rush of feelings he was experiencing over him. But, he bit his bottom lip instead and smiled, his eyes wide and honest as he nodded eagerly in response. He blushed, looking down between them and he was so grateful that he had a cardigan to put on over his shirt.

“I guess you’re right.” He mumbled, his blush coming back full force at the thought of why they needed to clean up, before standing on wobbly legs. He picked up his shoes and his cardigan and followed Seb up the steps and into the main floor of the quiet house. The giggles and teasing felt good and cooled his blushing for a moment. Sebastian’s lightness and giggles were contagious and made him feel giddy and alive. When he came out of the bathroom he had to look away for a moment, Sebastian looked so damn good standing there in those damn sweats and all Blaine wanted to do was see if the bed was as comfortable as it looked and maybe pull Sebastian down with him and kiss him until they fell asleep. And he knew they needed to leave if they wanted to get him home on time but he wanted one more kiss, one more little memory to add to the night. He licked his lips and stepped closer to Sebastian and slid his arm around his waist, pulling him close, his head tilted back and his face open, his free hand snaking up to rest at the back of Seb’s neck to pull him close. 

“Okay.” His voice was soft, because he knew Seb was right. “Just one more minute...” And he kissed him good and slow for a few more minutes, his heart thumping in his chest with a happiness he wanted to keep forever. 

By the time they left the Smythe’s, pie and candle and left over cookies in hand, Blaine’s stomach was in knots because he didn’t want to go. He wanted to curl up next to Sebastian in his big blue bed and press a kiss to the back of his neck before falling asleep. He was actually a little sad about it and as they pulled up in front of his dark house he hoped that Seb wasn’t reading it as if he were sad to be there with him. It was very much the opposite. He turned in his seat, his eyes scanning over Seb’s face, “This was like, the best birthday ever, Seb.” He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over Sebastian’s, not wanting the night to end but knowing he had less than ten minutes to get into his house before Imelda Anderson went from the sweetest woman ever to grounding him with the most disappointed look on her face. She had given him an extra hour, he didn’t want to disappoint her, but he wanted to make it clear to Sebastian that he meant something to him. (without pouring his heart out like an idiot) He cleared his throat before taking a deep breath, his smile shy like they hadn’t just been incredibly intimate with each other. His voice soft as he spoke.

“I really am happy, Seb. Are you?”

Sebastian’s POV:

“I’m glad you had a good day.” Sebastian lifted Blaine’s hand that he had been holding and kissed his fingers. “I am, B. Promise.” He leaned forward and gave him a small kiss before they had to exit the car. Sebastian didn’t want Blaine to be late. He helped him carry his various items to his front door and kissed him goodnight one last time. “Get inside. I can’t have Mrs. Anderson mad at me.”  Sebastian ruffled Blaine’s disheveled hair and winked as he walked backwards off of the front porch. 

The ride home was spent hardly paying attention to the music that was playing but replaying the events of the day over and over again. The orchard, the pies, the kissing and touching. Blaine had even been in his room for the first time which gave him a little thrill. He had never had anybody (besides Hunter or like, the housekeeper) in there. Blaine had held his face and kissed him slowly and he could have melted into the floor, or even better, fallen into the bed with him. 

Sebastian had promised to text when he got home safely. He sent three blue heart emojis from his driveway and smiled when the other boy responded quickly with three red ones. He sat and thought in his car for a few minutes and couldn’t help but find his mind thinking about everything that the future had in store for them. Halloween and Thanksgiving and all of the dates in between. Sneaking into the basement to kiss and inviting Blaine into his room, never finishing a movie ever again, dinner dates and maybe even school dances. 

He was so damn happy. 

/fin.

[h-styles-babes]

TWELVE

The next day was a long recording day. No one seemed to be able to agree on anything, and it wasn’t because everyone had opposing views; it was because nothing sounded right, and only three weeks in, it seemed like everyone was experiencing some sort of creative fatigue. Everyone seemed to be dragging their feet, and Harry complained once or twice about not being able to write songs. They were pretty much stumped on the songs they were already mid-production on, so they’d suggested Harry take some time to try to complete some songs he had in the works. That wasn’t working out so well either, evidently.

Everyone straggled around the studio until nearly ten that night, everyone finally just giving up and calling it a night, citing that a good night’s rest would help them replenish their creative flow. While everyone that was set up in nearby hotels got cabs to take them back into the city, Sia wandered to the kitchen, hoping to find a snack that would help her settle down for the night. But after a few minutes of searching and pondering, Sia realised that she was too frustrated with how the session had gone to let her mind settle. She shut the refrigerator door once more with a heavy sigh and glanced over her shoulder.

The moon was full that night, shining in all its splendour on the rippling waves of the water and sparkled on the fine sands of the beach. It looked so inviting that Sia was already opening the back sliding door before she had even made the conscious decision to go outside and down to the beach.

All the doors and windows in the house were set with security sensors, and it beeped when any of them were opened. When the three little chirps sounded out, Harry looked over the back of the couch from where he’d been playing a game on his phone. He saw Sia standing in the open doorway, moonlight washing over her face, illuminating her profile. It’d been a long time since he’d taken just a few moments to really admire how beautiful she was. Sure, he knew she was beautiful. They’d been in a relationship for years and friends for even longer, so he was always aware of her good looks. However, in that moment with the natural lighting grazing the high points of her face, she looked like a goddess. It felt like a punch in the chest when he felt those familiar butterflies take flight in his stomach.

“Goin’ for a walk?” Harry asked her, making her quickly turn to look at him. She hadn’t realised he was sitting there.

“Yeah. Need to let myself calm down from all this stress today. Beach looked good.”

“Mind if I join yeh? Need a few minutes myself, I reckon,” Harry told her, already standing. He’d changed since they’d been in the studio. He’d been wearing loose-fit jeans and an Eagles t-shirt, but now he was in a very old, very hole-y, Rolling Stones tee that Sia was pretty sure he’d owned since he was seventeen, and a pair of athletic shorts that were a bit too short by American standards, but no one looked twice at in the UK. He looked comfortable and snuggly, and Sia had a sudden urge to plop herself on the couch and pull him beside her and just cuddle. While the thoughts were no longer unpleasant, they were still a bit jarring, and she blinked a few times to dispel the feeling.

“Sure. Could use the company, I guess. Plus Mitch would probably pitch a fit if he knew I went out alone this late,” Sia said with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

Harry motioned for Sia to exit the house before him, closing the slider behind himself once he stepped out.

“You and Mitch have gotten close, I take it,” Harry commented as they made their way across the bridge that connected the property to the beach. Sia kicked off her sandals as soon as her feet touched the sand.

“Yeah. He’s like my American Ellen,” Sia joked. “Let’s me vent to him and just offers advice. No judgement, no harsh words. I mean, Ellen can be a bitch, but it’s out of love. Mitch is like Ellen, but without the harsh reality side. Give him a few months, though. He might start puttin’ me in my place.” Sia chuckled, just imagining Mitch actually saying something unkind. It wasn’t easy to picture. “Is always lookin’ after me, checkin’ in whenever I’ve wandered off. He’s been a good friend.”

Harry cleared his throat. They had taken up a slow but steady place along the shore, right at the edge of where the water washed up, letting the waves wash over their toes. There were a couple of bonfires off in the distance, creating dots of bright orange along the coast. The sound of the lapping water was loud in the quietness of the night. The surf was calm, the waves no bigger than half a meter. Everything was just as Sia had imagined it would be. It made her wonder why she didn’t take advantage of the beautiful beaches back in LA more often. Maybe now she wouldn’t take them for granted.

“I uh…I was the one that sent him out lookin’ for you that first time,” Harry admitted, sounding a little bashful in his delivery.

Sia looked over at him, having to tilt her head up slightly to accommodate for their height difference. The moonlight was so bright that she could see the slight pink tinge of his cheeks and the high points of his ears.

She waited a beat before responding, “I know. Mitch told me.”

Harry hummed, dipping his chin to his chest. “Wanted to go myself, but thought better of it. Mitch said he’d go for me. Just didn’t want yeh gettin’ lost out here by yourself in the dark.”

Sia bit at the inside of her cheeks, contemplating how exactly she was going to respond. Her and Harry were still in this delicate place between tipping to hating each other again or tipping to becoming friends like they once were. She didn’t want to go back to yelling at each other and avoiding each other at all costs. Everything she’d conditioned in herself over the last year told her to tell him he needed to mind his own business, because she was none of his concern anymore, but she kept reminding herself that they were working toward being friends again.

“I know I’ve bit your head off about it a couple times before,” Sia began hesitantly, dipping her head down to look at her feet as they shuffled through the packed sand, “but I do actually appreciate your concern. Kinda miss havin’ someone look after me. Not that I’m not capable of lookin’ after myself. But…” Sia shrugged, “yeh know.”

Harry stopped walking, and Sia only walked past him for a pace or two before realising he was behind her. She turned on her heel and looked at him. He had his head tilted down to his feet, both hands shoved in his pockets. His toes were wiggling in the damp sand.

“What?” Sia asked, very aware that he was toying with something he wanted to tell her in his mind.

Harry sighed before looking back up at her, giving her the courtesy of looking her in the eyes. “I know we agreed to not dive into all our shit, but, I feel like it’s doing ourselves a disservice if we don’t at least talk about something. It just eats at me sometimes.”

Sia felt her jaw clenching in an automatic reaction to Harry’s confrontation. And it wasn’t even really a confrontation, it was more of a pleading suggestion, and it was one that was a long time coming. She had really got to get over her split-second reactions to all the things that Harry did, otherwise she’d be sprouting grey hairs before the end of this all.

“Can we…” Sia began, trying to unclench her teeth. She looked around and spotted a fairly big boulder that looked like it would do for a bit of seating while they were hashing things out. “Can we at least go sit for this?” she asked, gesturing to where she’d seen the rock, just a little ways down the shore.

Harry nodded and silently followed her, helping her take a seat before he arranged a comfortable position for himself. For thinking he was ready to have this conversation with her, he was feeling a lot of nerves about opening up the communication about what it was that had went wrong between them. He didn’t want it to be the beginning of the end yet again.

When Harry had been silent for longer than Sia was comfortable with, she sighed and looked over at him. He had a nearly violent grip on his lower lip with his index finger and thumb, turning the skin a pale colour.

“Know I’ve said it before, but it really wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Harry started before Sia could say anything to prompt him. She started ringing her hands together in anticipation and nervousness.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for this, but everyone in her life had assured her that she was more than ready, and she was more than strong enough to deal with it. She just had to stop convincing herself that it would push her over the edge and past her limits. She had made it through the trauma itself and was functioning as a normal, productive, sound person. She had to believe that dealing with it alongside the other person that was involved would only help her heal. It was the only way she was going to stop herself from freaking out further.

“What was it supposed to be like, then?” Sia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t look Harry in the eye, or even in the general direction of his face. She kept her eyes trained towards the ocean, watching the waves swell and crash against the sand. That was sort of how her life felt over the last year. A big swell of goodness and happiness and progress right before it all came crashing down, breaking against the shore and scattering in different directions. It kept happening to her over and over again, and she so badly wanted off the ride.

“I just…needed time,” Harry stumbled out. He ran his hand through his hair, lightly tugging at the strands. “Everythin’ was changing. Zayn left. The band was endin’. No one really knew what the fuck we were doing past early December. August was kinda the beginnin’ of the end.”

Sia clenched her jaw against his reasoning. Was he serious?

“So that meant the end of us, too? I was just another thing who’s ties needed to be cut? That’s fuckin’ fantastic, Harry. Really glad the three years in a relationship and over a decade of friendship meant so much to you.”

She moved to press herself up and off the rock, already regretting allowing herself to even begin this conversation. All this time she had spent convincing herself that speaking with Harry and forming some sort of new relationship with him was the best for her mental health and her own piece of mind had all been a waste. Her therapist would be getting a phone call in the morning.

“Wait!” Harry shouted, his voice sounding much too loud in the quietness of the evening. His hand darted out and grabbed ahold of her wrist gently, urging her to stay put and not walk away from him like she’d done countless times before. Doubtlessly, she’d been entitled to the storm-off before, but he thought they were past that now. They needed to talk, and he wasn’t going to just let her walk away this time.

“That’s not…” Harry rushed to get out, making sure she was still sitting on the rock beside him. “That’s not what I meant, love. I didn’t wanna drag you into all that shit with me. You were on the verge of startin’ your dream career. What woman wants to have a boyfriend that wanders aimlessly because he has no idea where his life is going? I just needed time to get my shit together after the end of the band, and I didn’t wanna pull you down in my slump.”

“So you broke up with me ‘for my own good’?” Sia asked, genuinely confounded. She didn’t think she’d ever furrowed her brow so hard before. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“It wasn’t just about you!” Harry insisted, trailing his hand from where it had still had a grip on her wrist to hold hers. He didn’t dare intertwine their fingers, so he kept them palm to palm, his fingers curled around the back of her hand. Just as a way to keep her anchored to him, at least for the duration of their conversation. “I didn’t want it fucking us up. Our friendship didn’t deserve a disastrous falling out because I was lazing around, unable to pull my life together. I swore I’d never be able to forgive myself if that happened.”

Harry swallowed harshly as he watched Sia watch him. Her eyes flitted around his face, most likely searching for any signs of insincerity, but he knew she wasn’t going to find any.

“I know that was selfish and stupid of me, but it was comin’ from a good place. I was tryin’ to preserve our friendship. Then, maybe if I got my shit together, we could go back to how we were.”

“That obviously didn’t happen,” Sia reminded him, not so kindly. “And somehow, finding you on a yacht with a model you’d claimed over and over again was just a friend just weeks after your last appearance with the boys doesn’t scream ‘man trying to get his shit together to get back with his ex-girlfriend.’”

Harry flinched at the venom in her voice, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. He deserved the ridicule and the harsh words. Nothing about his behaviour in those months after One Direction broke up spoke to the words he was trying to convince her of now. What man is spotted and photographed with his hands on the ass of another woman and then claims he’d broken up with his ex in order to try to preserve their relationship? Sia was calling absolute bullshit on that one.

“We were on holiday and drunk most of the time.”

“With your mum in tow? I’m sure Anne loved that.”

“She was just a…”

“Rebound? Booty call? Easy fuck? Pick one, Harry.”

“We’d been separated for months. Like you haven’t been with others since then.”

Sia was clenching her jaw so hard that it was beginning to hurt. She’d be paying for it the following day.

“No, actually, I haven’t. Unlike the other half of this relationship, I went into mourning after the end of my three year partnership that I’d thought was the be all end all for me.”

Harry would never realise the double meaning of her statement.

Sia couldn’t handle this conversation anymore. So much for taking a calming walk to shake off all the stress from the day. Now she was just more stressed, her shoulders up by her ears and her teeth audibly grinding against each other. And she was angry. She needed to go.

She pushed herself up from the rock they were sat on, and this time she didn’t let Harry’s protest stop her. She was already five meters away before Harry caught up to her, gently grabbing at her wrist once again. She shook him off and he let her, making sure she knew that his contact was only to get her to slow down and recognise his presence.

For all her initial anger at his comment and the reaction it had drawn out of her, the brisk walk she’d taken away from him and his appearance made her come to her senses.

She really had no right to be holding this grudge nearly a year on, and he was right, even if his argument sounded a little childish. They hadn’t been together anymore, so he really had no obligation to stay away from any women or abstain from sex. Sure she was hurt that he’d moved on so quickly after he’d broken up with her and had claimed that it was for the best for the both of them, but that didn’t justify her continued anger over the matter. She had bigger emotional things to worry about, and her fictionalised version of Harry that had been unfaithful was unfair to both him and herself. She needed to move past it.

Sia stopped suddenly, causing Harry to nearly trip over his own feet as he hurried to meet her movements. She stared down at her feet, and Harry watched as she chewed at her bottom lip. He wasn’t sure what it was that had her thinking so hard, but he hoped this wasn’t her shutting down even more.

After what seemed like hours, but was really only a few moments, Sia finally looked up at him, looking much less tense than she had just a few minutes before. Harry didn’t want to get his hopes up, though.

“I’m sorry,” Sia said, shaking her head, though she looked more exasperated with herself than anything else. “I overreacted. I’ve been overreacting for months now. It wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Harry asked, genuinely confused by her apology. He had never questioned her anger at him over the breakup and the subsequent events that led to their falling out. It had hurt him to see her so angry and knowing it was his fault, but he’d never been upset with her over it. So her apology was out of left field for him.

“For holding this grudge against you for no reason. I don’t apologise for my initial anger over the breakup, but I do apologies for all these months of animosity. Cutting you out of my life completely and making our families our go-betweens was childish. I don’t wanna do all this anymore, Harry.”

“So…?”

“So I’m calling a cease-fire,” she stated succinctly. “No more harsh words, no more heightened guards, no more tension. I want my childhood friend back.”

Harry was sure he had never smiled harder in his life.

[gamer--grill]

Catherine: Full Body game review. Spoiler alert!

Catherine: Full Body is a recreation of the original game Catherine made in 2011 by the game company Atlus, the same creators of the Persona games. It's a very story oriented platform puzzle game and follows the story of a man who's questioning his life and relationships.

Plot

So the story follows a man named Vincent Brooks, age 32, as he struggles with his hesitancy to commit to his girlfriend of 5 years Katherine and with the terrifying nightmares that plague him. At the very start of the game we meet Rin, formaly known as Qatherine, as she's running from her stalker in the streets. Vincent saves her and finding that she has amnesia and doesnt know anything about herself, she gets a job at the Stray Sheep playing piano, she is also Vincent's new neighbor.

2nd, we meet Catherine, a young, sexual blonde who comes into the Stray Sheep and has a drink with our protag. Vincent gets drunk out of his mind and in the morning he wakes up with Catherine naked beside him. He freaks the fuck out and here starts the love square as he struggles to hide his infidelity from both Katherine and Catherine while dealing with his growing affections for Rin.

Gameplay

The real meat of this game is in the nightmare segments. Every night you're transported to a world where you have to climb a tower of cubes before they fall out from under you and you become a heaping plate of sheep meat. And what they don't tell you about the puzzles is THEY ARE HARD, OH MY GAWD! If you play on hard or even normal be ready to throw your controller out the goddamn window and question your life choices bc if puzzles aren't for you then you're gonna have a bad time.

The game's puzzle segments have improved greatly with an additional difficulty setting called Safety where it's impossible for you to die, there's no timer so the floor doesn't fall out from under you, and you have an auto play and skip options so if you're feeling lazy you can have the game play its self or just skip the puzzle entirely. There's also a back camera so if you need to climb to the back of the puzzle you can actually see what you're doing instead of scrambling around like a sheep with its head cut off. The trap blocks are also disabled in Safety mode. After you get to the top of each block tower you'll come to a platform where you can save, talk to people and buy items that help you climb (they bring down your score of you use them fyi.) After that you'll get into a confessioanal booth where you'll be asked a question where you'll have to answer either 1 extreme or the other. This is the main thing that will determine the outcome of the game. This game has multiple endings and depending on what you choose that will decide the ending that you get and the paths you take. There's a total of 14 endings in this game including alternate endings that are exclusive to Catherine: Full Body so this game makes up for its relatively short play time by having high replay value. They've also added new questions to the game so it won't be the same questions that you answered if you played the original Catherine.

There's an option called Remix where there's entirety new kinds of blocks in the puzzles to deal with, I didn't play that but it looked intersting.

Other than the nightmare parts of the game, you spend you're time at the Stray Sheep drinking, talking to you're friends, bar patrons and Rin. You freqently get txts on your phone from all 3 of the girls and unlike the original game you get phone calls now and pics from all of the women, not just Catherine 😈😈. The best thing about the bar is that it's entirely optional. There's no extra fluff you need to slog through. You can just skip entirely passed it if you don't feeling like drinking or talking but it's all so atmospheric that you'll want to do it. Plus drinking more helps you move faster during the puzzles so bottoms up, bitches. 🍸🍺🍻🍷🍹🍶

Character's

I'm only gonna cover the love intrests bc they're the only ones who matter really.

Qatherine (Rin)

Oh. My. God. I can't even begin to tell you how good her story is. Her genuine innocence, kindness and sincerity help Vincent greatly as he deals with the traumatic nightmares and his relationship problems. Early on we can really feel the affection that he has for her and it seems completely natural that they would fall in love. In fact later in the game he kind of admits that he did fall in love with her. This is how good it was, when I messed up and didn't give the right answers for her path to be unlocked I was so pissed off when the cutscene finally came that I would have shouted at my screen if my dad hadn't been sleeping next door to me. Rin also has a unique place in the game. Unlike the other 2, she actually appears in the nightmares and helps you by playing her piano. That added comfort she gives Vincent really adds to her relevance and pefectly supports the way to a loving relationship should you choose to persue one. She's the most fulfilling love option. She's also not human. Or a girl.

Katherine

Katherine is already your long time steady gf when the game begins. Mature and sensible, she almost resembles a mothering role with the protag. She's always worried about him and his drinking habbits and how clean his apartment is. But she's not without her soft side either. She brings him cake and wants to persue a deeper commitment with him. She's very smart and ambitious but also quite understanding when it comes to Vincent's bumbling clumsiness. She truely wants the best for him and their relationship. This is expanded by the memories that are shown to you about their early relationship when they first fell in love. Which didn't happen in the original game. She represents the security and familiarity that comes with having a long time relationship.

Catherine

Catherine isn't actually a human at all. She's a succubus who was brought to specifically temp the protag into a steamy affair. She's described as "his dream girl" and represents the fantasy and freedom that people secretly crave. She's appears unassuming and innocent on the outside but is actually very shrewd and aggressive as shown when she beats the shit out of Vincent in the bathroom of the bar if you choose to break up with her. She also threatens to kill you early on if you cheat on her. She's very emotionally vulnerable and actually falls in love with the protag as the game progresses. If you break up with her she'll beg to stay with you, stateing that "I just wanna be your girl." And that she's ok with you marrying some one else. Then she cries. Then beats you up. It's all very hilarious and strange. Also no one else can see her except Vincent which leads to chaos near the end of the game. Her endings are actually pretty nice so give her some consideration.

Graphics

As this is a ps4 game, it goes without saying that the graphics are better than the original. The cematics really have the polished Persona 5 look to them. The colors are super bright and vibrant it's like a feast for your eyeballs, I just love it. When you do get a loading screen, which isn't often, you get blasted with that signature vibrant pink and the title screen has a whole new look to it. The style is there and I am here for it.

Interesting stuff

These are just things I personally found awesome.

In the begining, the hostess Trisha (she explains the whole story and presents it to you as a soap opera) aknowleges that this game is the new better version of the first.

The cubes with faces on them open their eyes when you stand in front of them.

When you reply to txts in the bar, you don't have to cycle through options anymore, just scroll and select.

There's Persona music on the bars jukebox including the opening song to Persona 5

There's Persona 5 Easter eggs. Just look around. 😉

There's a rich Muslim dude who you get to talk to on the platform after you climb the puzzles so if you're concerned about "representation" it's there.

Overview 8.5/10

Catherine: Full Body is an intersting, unique and stylish game that brings a fresh new concept to gaming and I really recommend it. It's strange and it does what it does and it does it well bc it's not trying to please or pander to anyone. The story is good and the style is showy and I love it.

I hope that you enjoyed this review and that your gamming experience is a little better.

[steadystares]

Hard Reset

It is a wonder any thought or practice can yield fruit when the origin is simple indecision.  I have defined myself and my wants, without experience or knowledge.  Though I don’t believe direct guidance is integral to the development of self, I do consider comparative peer discussion come with that immeasurable weight.   A definite asset in measuring internal progress is vocalizing or making it a question in the sentient world, “is this it?!”   

I don’t know if i’ve ever been good.  Not good like, “Nah, nigga, I’m good”, but like a good person.  It’s strange to even posture a statement in such a way, but I sort of understand why I do.  I reduce a lot of my actions down to forms of good or bad that have no direct correlation to any other terms.  For example, good isn’t always equal to harmless and bad isn’t always observable.  In fact, like most people, I’m only ever really trying to observe my actions as good or with positive intent.  Maybe there’s an alchemy in knowing what I can observe has visibility not only to me but others as well.  Several years of processing and attempting to break down, “why” as it relates to the “who” I describe when answering the question, “who are you?”

I can be emotionally treacherous in relationships.  Or I have been in the past.   I’m very full and very empty, very wanting and very ready to deny.  Worse than all of this, I have brewed a passive deception with no real goal or desire… no intention, or reward, or reason.  This is the only true observable “bad” that I’m aware of.  In the pained responses of people I love, my absolute worst is given shape.  People who have earned all of my plea’s and desperate desire to give love, I hurt those people without intention, or without a goal or even momentary relief.   

That’s probably the shittiest way to be; having love that completely encases absolute indifference, nihilism, indecision, goalesness.   

I made a decision some years ago to begin to change this.  Whatever broke at whichever point in my 20′s needed mending.   It needed tending to and then to be minded after for as long as it would take.  Possibly a year or until I’m staring up at dropped ceiling tiles in the ER gasping my last breaths.  I’ve needed to be the undefined “good” I measure my actions against for so long it breaks my heart to think i’ve denied myself that role.

When the feeling of regret swole, moment to moment, my recollections of the terrible thoughtless things I’ve done, I decided to take better care of myself.  

You approached.

I was nervous when I held your arm and poked into your skin with as much care as I could offer.  I saw scars and heard the results of them tell stories and chuckle at my discomfort.  I remembered it being difficult to look you in the eye.  I thought you’d realize I was ugly and we were in a room I try to keep in my moms house and that my dissatisfaction with my life was gearing up to mutate into a desperation.   

I pricked at your skin and realized I never wanted to feel you as a stranger.  This was the most intimate I’d been in a long time and holding your arm felt righteous.

My desperation was going to be steadied.  You are messy with a great discipline and your own desires.  You want a family, and to be regarded.  You want to eventually be the matriarch and I’m seeing myself want to provide this to you.  I want to see you turn into this feeble old stick of a woman.  A grey ghost in linen nightgown thats been worn around the house, and run the wash so often that it has become sheer.  I can see my self populating that life with you as you casually frustrate your way to the top of rock wall or grapple with the obstacle course.

This are our first days.  

You met her, and she loves you.  I was so uncomfortable with how this would be.  I worry about jealousy and retaliation.  I worry about it all the time.  I’ve been in a steady place of discomfort in my own life.  A life  that had been a series of distortions... but seeing her take to you felt good.  I don’t think she’s stopped asking for you since then.  

Is this an adventure? I’m floating in this, and I feel ease and comfort.  There’s an honesty appearing in front of me and I’m trying to chase it but my pragmatism is attenuating my pace.  It is fair to pace yourself.  I’ve fallen for loves an allowed them to overlap and I tell you about how and why and where I feel my failures.  I don’t say that I’m scared of myself and what I do but, who wouldn’t be? 

I’m obsessive about maintaining a composure.  I haven’t any rituals, I just have a series of calculations I service with pristine tools.  I have my musts and mustn'ts and I think you’re a must.  I’ve begun to prepare my tools.  I must prepare my tools.  

You’ll finish your program, and you’ll put every bit of what I see to work and it’ll be marvelous.  This is what a unity is.  Through discomfort, displeasure, abstraction of self... when the gain of is lowered and pure electrical hum drops back you’ll hear unity.  

And all that has been muted by way of fatigue with squeal it’s way back to silence and you’ll hear unity. 

 And  we’ll sit quiet and hold hands and, in that grasp will be unity, 

I’m certain.

Thank you.

You got sick, and I had to decide not to panic.  That is something I can do.  I can decide to not panic.  And I can take my rudimentary understanding of a foreign language and I can find... I’m not sure what...  Asprin?  I can pay double, and find a way back to an air bnb owned by some hippie elderly woman in the middle of the night.

Thank you.

You broke up with me in the airport.  You got loud and I don’t know why.  I still have no idea why.  I grated my teeth.  I don’t like being made a spectacle.  I have not earned that in this place in this time.  

Thank you.

We’re growing and shrinking at the same time.  I cannot manage this distance and the disassociation I’m feeling.

This has been poisoned. Reading, “I”, thinking “we” and wondering “you” and “how” and “when” and what the fuck is a Julie?  I...  this is still exactly what I meant for it to be I guess.  A post to use to reflect and eventually to restate the “something” that happened.  That I felt “dire” at one point about something new.  Something happened that felt viable.  I feel really perplexed and foolish.  I’ve never felt so foolish.  I can’t quiet compare the feeling to anything.  I remember when I was a kid and I tried to make a kite with pencils and lined paper out in front of my mother laundromat.  I’d found string and tape and put the whole thing together in just over 30 minutes. It was small, sure, but man did it look like a kite.  I ran back and forth on the sidewalk for hours towing this string.  Being careful to lay it down just so that the initial jerk would provide enough lift to get this thing flying properly behind me.  

In the end I’d just dragged around some shit I hobbled together and found myself sobbing that I didn’t know why it wasn’t working.  

This is a constant theme in my life.  Sometimes I build the kite.  Sometimes I find the kite.  Sometimes the kite finds me.   But it never seems to work the way I think it might.  

[momentsinsong]

Moments In Song No. 020 - Frankliin

“Moments In Song” asks people one simple question, “What are you listening to?” We believe that you can learn a lot about an individual and their experiences based off of the music they love. For every installment we ask someone to make a playlist of 10 songs they’re listening to, whether it be something new they stumbled upon, or a song they’ve always loved, and explain the story behind their choices. We aim to show that no matter where we come from, what we do, or what we look like, music has the ability to bring us together.

Fresh off of the release of his first EP REFLECT, Frankliin shares a playlist full of songs that invoke old emotions and remind him of why he started making music. We talk to the DMV Producer/DJ about his Metal beginnings, what makes a genius, and the balance between being creative and working a 9 to 5.

Listen to Frankliin’s playlist on Apple Music and Spotify. 

Words and photos by Julian.

_______________________________________________________________________

Julian: What was the thought process behind making your playlist? I know you said earlier it really hard to fit 10 songs on there.

Frankliin: Dude! Picking 10 songs is hard. I even struggle with my DJ sets trying to get like a 45 minute set together. That’s already hard enough, so just 10 songs was like “Fuck.” So my main thing is I wanted all songs that I have some sort of emotional attachment to. So like even some of those songs I’ve fallen in love to. Each one is something that is routinely in my head. Also I just wanted to exhibit some of my talented friends. I’m like, “Y’all are really out here making stuff like this and still homies.” That’s crazy to me.

I noticed that really only the last two songs are more upbeat, while everything else seemed more chill and introspective. Would you say that you did that on purpose, or did it just kind of end of like that? Like that’s just where you are in life right now?

Oh 100%. Even in my live sets I always want an upward progression. So that’s why I kind of wanted to start off kind of calm, because that’s more of the stuff I listen to on a day to day basis. I feel like anyone who knows me would describe me as high energy, but when I’m by myself I’m usually chilling out. I kind of wanted this playlist to reflect that. And then towards the end I wanted to give people something to bop their head to. I don’t know, I just like ramps. Shout out ramps.

Earlier you said the Baby song on your playlist was shown to you by your brother because at that time your parents were not fucking with Hip-Hop. Was it all Hip-Hop/Rap , or was it just new music in general?

I mean my parents liked Hip-Hop, but they were trying to shelter me. I was definitely sheltered a lot growing up, and my brother was not. So he would always show me shit and be like, “Don’t tell mom and dad I showed you this,” which made it even better because you’re doing shit you shouldn’t be. I have this profound memory that will not leave, and it’s fine that it won’t. My brother was driving after taking me to go see a movie, and where I live it’s near a swamp, and so we were driving through it and it’s pitch black, and then that song came on. As soon as I heard it, I was like, “What the hell is this?” It just matched the mood, the pockets they were choosing, the percussion. Everything the Clipse, Pharrell, The Neptunes made always just blows my mind. Even now that music is still ahead of its time. That’s definitely been something that was an initial influence, that’s resurged now with time.

With your parents having that view on music, how’d they feel once you started making music? And has that view changed since then?

So if it were up to my parents, I’d continue being an engineer working a 9 to 5, with a health care plan, a steady girlfriend, thinking about marrying and having kids, just simple shit. They’re baby boomers, and that's what they wanted, and that’s what they expect I wanted. There’s nothing wrong with parents that want you to be happy, but I’ve had a taste of those things and I don’t want it. That’s been a point of conflict with that. Long story short they were not happy with it. Even though I’m not anywhere close to where I want to be, I feel like now with me traveling and making money from it, they’re starting to warm up to it. Every time I do a show my dad is like, “Are you getting paid?” It’s never, “Oh was it fun? Did you have a good time?” it’s just “Are you getting paid?” But now my dad is 100% for it, he’s come to shows and stuff. My mom is still warming up to it. She’s even freaked out about me leaving the county, so me going overseas for shows, she lost it.

But I feel like you doing shows overseas, and releasing full projects that are being well-received, will eventually get things to click with them.

Yeah. And also I just had to learn to be like, “Fuck what everyone else thinks. Do what you want.” Like literally last night I had a conversation with Juice the bouncer at Velvet Lounge, shout out Juice, and we were talking about geniuses and stuff like that and he was just like, “I really don’t think there’s such a thing as a genius. It’s just people doing what they wanted and not giving a fuck about the status quo.” Which is why people think they’re so revolutionary and ask why they didn’t think of that, and it because you’re following the status quo.

When did you start making music, and then at what point did you realize you could actually do something with it?

I started making music when I was like 16, I’m 24 now. Time fucking flies. I never really did it seriously, my main thing was always school. I have a degree in engineering and that’s all I was focused on. I literally didn’t have summer vacations except for like 2 weeks, and those were a dope two weeks.

Really? What’d you do the rest of summer? 

I literally went to space camp dude.

I mean that’s kind of cool.

I mean it was cool until I asked some dude how much do you make working on spaceships and he was like, “We don’t make enough, stop asking me questions!” and that just killed my dream as a little kid.

How do you not make enough building spaceships?

He probably did, he was just being a jerk. And at that age you’re super impressionable, and experiences like that can fuck you up. That dream kind of died with that moment. So the music thing basically started with my friends and I listening to Metal, and then wanting to start a Metal band, and so I started playing bass. That was in middle school, and we were listening to bands like Asking Alexandria, Suicide Silence, I Set My Friends On Fire, and that’s how I got really into music. And then with time and with skateboarding, I got into electronic music. Me and friends would be messing around on FL Studios and this NuMark Mixtrack Pro he got from a thrift store for like $100. We’d be passing it around between the 5 of us and that’s how I learned to DJ. We would be producing together, trying to impress each other, and everyone was lowkey pushing me the hardest. It wasn’t like I was trying to be the best, it was just that I was having so much fun.

Was this still in Middle School, or was this High School now?

This is High School. It was all just fun in the beginning, and then I kind of gave it up when I went to my first year of college. I was just so focused on school and everything, and I was trying so hard and I just sucked so bad at college. I was a 4.0 and up student, and I went from that to losing my scholarship. In high school I was good with girls and then when I went to college I couldn’t get a girl to save my life. It was like everything that defined me just didn’t happen anymore. The only thing I really still had was music. It was either after my Freshman/Sophmore Year, I was just like I can’t fucking do this anymore. I had never had a summer off since I was in 6th grade. I told my mom I wasn’t taking summer classes and that I needed some time, and that was met with a lot of resistance. After that is when I did my first show as Frankliin, and that was at the Creative Block with Kleonaptra, it was her first show too. Afterwards I was like, “Damn, I’m trying to do this more.” I still wanted to do school, but then with time I wanted to do music more. I still planned to finish school, for myself and for my parents, and now that I’ve finished school I’m at a point where I’m doing the rat race of the 9 to 5 life. Whenever I’m doing this music stuff, or these tours, I never feel anywhere near as alive or satisfied doing anything else. I’d take the pay cut any day it if means I could do that. Without hesitation.

You said earlier that your playlist is made up of songs that invoke some sort of emotion in you. What would you say is the emotion you're trying to invoke with the music from your latest project, REFLECT?

I really wanted to step out of my comfort zone and put out something that felt like a piece of me, a fragmented story I always wanted to tell. REFLECT is a pretty on the nose name for it in all honesty. Each song is like a window into a relationship, whether it be my own, or spoken by the featured vocalists (LIA, xxpetejames and Martin. J. Ballou). Although it may seem kind of bleak, I feel like it’s conveyed that you can come out from tough times as a better more seasoned person.

Connect with Frankliin:

https://twitter.com/iamfrankliin

https://www.instagram.com/iamfrankliin/

https://soundcloud.com/iamfrankliin

Connect with Moments In Song:

https://www.instagram.com/momentsinsong/

https://twitter.com/moments_in_song

https://tinyurl.com/MISAppleMusic

https://tinyurl.com/MISSpotify

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Moody [M]

Monsta X

Yoo Kihyun/Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1.8k

I’m still pretty shit at smut, but uh, have fun with this RIDE guys. 

Ever since he woke up and left to Starship this morning from staying over at your place for the night, Kihyun had been in a bad mood.  He basically woke up growling in annoyance as he threw his stuff in a small bag, changed his clothes and left, all without speaking 2 words to you.  You couldn’t begin to think why his mood was sour; maybe he wasn’t feeling well?  Or maybe he just woke up wrong, I mean it’s a thing that happens, right?

You sent him a casual text, checking on him, as you left the bed to shower and get dressed.  You had a few errands to run today and the sooner you got up and out the door to do them, the sooner you can come home and be lazy again.  

So, with a quick shower and changing into a pair of acid washed jeans and at-shirt just large enough to tuck the front into your pants and still show off your figure, you grabbed your purse and shoes and were out the door within half and hour. 

You decided to get your exercise out of your errands and walk to the places you needed to visit.  So, by noon, you had a few bags hanging off your arm and a new pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.  

Currently, you had finished your jobs and had run into an old college friend whom you hadn’t seen in years.  The both of you took your conversation to a cafe as you two caught up.  It had barely been 20 minutes into your conversations when you felt your phone buzzing with an in coming phone call.  Digging the device out of your pocket, you saw Kihyun’s face and name flash across the screen. 

“Ah, sorry, boyfriend’s calling.  Hold on a minute?”  You excused yourself when your just put a smirk on his face and ushered you off.  You stepped out of the cafe and stood by the entrance before you picked up the call.

“Hey-”

“Why aren’t you at home?” Kihyun’s sharp voice interrupted you.  You scoffed lightly at him. “Well?” 

“Well, if you much know, I’m finishing up some errands and visiting with a friend.”  

“A friend?”

“Yeah, I’ve known him since college.  He was-”

“Him?  So, you’re with a guy right now?” 

You rolled your eyes.  His snippy attitude didn’t help the fact that he was already a particularly easy person to trigger into a jealous fit. He was protective, which would be cute, if his mood wasn’t lower than the surface of the earth.  You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair. 

“I haven’t seen him in years Hyun.  Stop worrying.” 

“Come home.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re finished shopping and just frolicking around with Mr. College Boy, right?”

“Kihyun-”

“Come. Home.” You almost winced at his tone of voice. 

“Why aren’t you at work?”  You tried to divert the situation.

“Canceled practice.  I won’t repeat myself a third time Y/N.”  You sighed as you dropped your hand as it hit against your thigh, something Kihyun could barley pick up on through the noisy background. 

“Fine.”  You didn’t want to worsen his mood. “I’ll be home in 20.”

“I’m counting.” With that, he dropped the call and you went to grab your bags, purse and left some money on the table. 

“Sorry, relationship calls.”  Your friend smiled knowingly. 

“No worries, I have a pregnant wife to get back to.  It checks out.” 

“Yeah, good luck with her.”  You both bid each other off and as you said, you were walking into your house 20 minutes later.  Pulling off your shoes and taking your sunglasses off, you walked to put the bags on the kitchen counter. 

It wasn’t long before arms were wrapped around your middle and Kihyun’s lips were ghosting along the exposed skin of your neck. 

“You were almost late.”

“But, I wasn’t.”

“Cheeky aren’t we?” His hands that were around your waist moved, traveling down to rest on, and slowly start to knead at, your thighs.  He wasn’t kind as he pushed the pads of his fingers against your jeans to push and squeeze at your thighs. 

“Is this why you’ve been so snippy today?”  One of his hands wandered to kneading closer to your ass.  The solid indicator that your accusation was correct was currently being pressed into your lower back.  “Got a problem there Kihyun?”

“You tell me babygirl.”  His voice purred as he grabbed your hips, turned you around and pinned you against the counter.  He latched his lips onto yours without hesitation or patience as he moved his thigh to push against your clothed, progressively heating core. 

You let out a small whine as he slowly moved his leg around your center and moved his mouth to suck and nip around your neck.  He hands held yours down on the edge of the counter tops, so all your hands could do is grip harshly at the hard surface’s underside. Nails scraping against it. 

A moment more like this and he released one of your hands to free up one of his own as he started fumbling with your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them.  He pulled them down just enough to reveal your lower region and then proceeded to lift you onto the counter top. 

The cold surface made you wince for a moment as Kihyun worked on removing your jeans and tossing them onto a different counter behind him. He took your legs, wrapping them around him, as you locked your ankles together and he lifted you off the counter and left the kitchen. 

You had expected him to take the both of you to your room the two of your shared when he stayed over, but you were shocked when you found yourself straddling his lap on the couch of your living room. 

“Kihyun, Here?” Your voice was an out of breath whisper, at best, as he pulled at the hems of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head and tossing it elsewhere.  

“Too far.  Here is fine.” You didn’t complain, or rather had no chance to, as Kihyun slipped his hand into the hem of your panties and began to rub at your core, making your squirm and bite into your lower lip to control your moans. He growled and bit at your collarbone, flicking at your clit when you held back your sounds, making your whimper. 

“Don’t.  Use your voice.” His demands shot through your skull and traveled all the way down as Kihyun started teasing your, still covered and clothed, folds with his playful fingers. He was more than tempted to tip the damn pair of panties off of you, but he knew he’d catch hell for it later, so he opted with the pushing them aside to get what he wants approach. 

He pulled back his hand as he lifted you to rest your body on only one of his thighs, his thighs that hadn’t been shed of his black skinny jeans.  The feel of the fabric made you shudder.  He reached around you to unclasp your bra as he slid it off your arms and whispered into your ear.  

“You know what you want babygirl.  Start moving your hips.”  His hand cupped at and fondled your breasts as you gripped at his shoulders and began to drag yourself up and down his covered thigh. The rough texture made you feel almost raw, but you didn’t stop.  The friction was too intoxicating, you couldn’t stop; even if you wanted to. 

Kihyun would bounce his leg up to meet your movements to tease at you, making your voice jump higher each time as you got faster.  Your high was nearly ready to tear through you and Kihyun wasn’t about to stop you.. this time.

“Ah-ah , fuck.. Kihyun...!” You put your forehead on his shoulder as he started bouncing his leg into you without mercy and held your hips so that your movements never had the chance to slow down or stop, he only fastened your shaking movements. 

“Do it.  Cum, let it all out baby.” You dug into him as you shuddered and felt your orgasm rip through you as you came on his thigh.  You heard him chuckled as he placed you to lay on your back as he stood up. 

“Look at what you’ve done sweetheart.”  You hear him fumbling around with his belt and pants, before removing them.  “These will have to be washed now.”  You felt his presence over your body again, now without a shirt as well as he stared down at you. “You ready for me princess?” 

“I’ve never been more impatient.”  He smirked as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“Good answer.” With that, he pushed into you, making you gasp and claw at the cushions beneath you.  He his breath hitch as he moved to full fit into you.  “I’ll never get over how fucking wonderful warm you are Y/N.”  His voice was heavy as he started moving. 

His pace was steady until you started lifting your hips to buck into his movements, trying to meet him and match his pace.  He trapped your hands down to the couch in one of his hands, the other of his holding your hips down to keep him in control of your the entire time as he pounded into you. 

You screamed with the occasional biting of your lip at his speed and restraints of your hands and hips. You dug the back of your head into the couch as you felt your second wave coming faster and faster. 

“Ki-Kihyun, oh my-god..!” He could feel your inching closer by the second. 

“Hold it in as long as you can babygirl.  Hold it and I’ll make sure to treat you later.”  His words didn’t help as you tried to keep it together as long as possible, but everything was going white and snapping in sequence, like a line of dominoes falling over with no end in sight. 

“Kihyun.. I can’t!” You arched your back as your eyes seemed to be welded shut. “Fuck me! Oh my god!” As you rode out your high, Kihyun’s had approached as well as he, with a grunt, small moans and biting on your shoulder, released into you. 

He pulled out of you as you lay on the couch, regaining your breath, Kihyun sitting on the other end of the piece of furniture. He had gotten up and left somewhere, but in the short amount of time he was gone, your naked body had passed out on the couch. 

He came back with a new pair of swears on, still shirtless, as he held a shit in his hand.  He had gathered your, and his, discarded clothes and already had them in the wash as he smiled at your sleeping figure.  He sat you up and pulled his shirt over your form before pulling you to his chest and covering the both of you up to lay on the couch and rest. 

You two slept the entire afternoon.  When you both eventually woke up, it was safe to say Kihyun’s sour attitude had completely disappeared.  He had gotten what he wanted from the woman he loved after all.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HOW AM I SO BAD AT SMUT?????? BUT YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, THE THE ACTUAL END, SO GO GET A GOLD STAR. YOU’VE EARNED IT.

[ninawritesastory]

Kenny Headcanons

Since it’s Kenny’s birthday, I figured now would be as good a time as any to post some headcanons I have about him.

- Kenny has issues with financial security, so throughout middle school and high school he works three to four semi-steady sort of jobs and takes on a number of by-contract type of jobs. The semi-steady jobs are: waiter/busboy at City Wok, newspaper delivery, farmhand at Farmer Bill’s, and seasonal work picking fruit/veggies at local orchards/farms. The by-contract jobs can range from fake dating to fixing bikes to landscaping, and Kenny develops a wide and diverse skill set.

- He saves up at least half of every paycheck he gets and rotates between three separate funds: Karen’s college fund, the apartment/house fund, and his own college fund.

- Throughout college (and the rest of his life), Kenny is constantly diversifying his income sources. They range from ordinary jobs to online ventures to babysitting to stocks to eventually opening several of his own businesses (each in a different niche). He does a lot of freelance writing and journalism, and becomes pretty good with a camera in order to increase his profitability.

- Kenny spends a LOT of time on teach-yourself type websites. He watches a shit-ton of tutorials on YouTube and the like, reads every how-to book he can get his hands, and learns from observation when he can.

(Putting the rest under a read more because there are A LOT.)

- He has Dissociative Identity Disorder, and goes between three distinct main alters: there’s Kenny, Mysterion, and Princess. Normally Kenny’s the host and therefore the one fronting most of the time, with Mysterion taking over from time to time---particularly when they’re confronted with any sort of danger. Princess rarely takes control, and it’s unclear what sort of circumstances trigger her. She’s most likely to take over around Karen, though. He doesn’t have any blackout amnesia issues when he switches with Mysterion or Princess, but the memories they acquire take on a sort of third-person POV feel, kind of like Kenny’s watching them instead of physically being part of them.

- Going off that, Kenny’s system, while small, is very fluid. He’s aware of his main alters (there are a handful of lesser developed alters he’s unaware of that hold particularly traumatizing memories but they virtually never front) and most of his switches are planned. However, both Mysterion and Princess are capable of keeping certain memories from him if they deem it necessary.

- Mysterion is built largely out of Kenny’s heroic tendencies and sense of justice. He’s probably the most serious of the three, and holds the lion’s share of Kenny’s leadership skills. Princess has most of Kenny’s cunning and manipulative behaviors. If Kenny decides to use less-than-moral methods to achieve his goals, it’s highly likely that Princess will be the one to handle those situations. In a lot of ways, she’s Mysterion’s opposite. However, she also takes on a lot of Kenny’s more nurturing and empathetic feelings. 

- They are all fucking reckless as hell, but in different ways. Kenny’s reckless in that he places absolutely no value on his own life. Considering he comes back every time he dies, Kenny is willing to try a lot of dangerous stuff ranging from stupid stunts to drugs and beyond. Mysterion is constantly on his case about it, considering he was formed initially as a protector identity. Unlike Kenny, Mysterion’s recklessness is calculated: since he’s aware that death isn’t final for them, he’s willing to put himself into more danger than others and uses it to his advantage in combat. Princess’ reckless tendencies come from her empathy; she’s way more willing to take chances and risks emotionally than either Kenny or Mysterion. Anytime Kenny makes progress in his interpersonal relationships, that’s a result of her influence.

- Due to the separation between himself and his alters, Kenny doesn’t really view himself in a very positive light. In his mind, Mysterion’s the brave hero who’s done so much for the town and Princess is the intelligent, confident, caring one. He sees himself more as a bad influence and perpetual screw-up.

- Kenny and Princess are both pansexual, but Mysterion is straight. Kenny’s demiromantic and both Princess and Mysterion are aromantic. It kind of makes relationships a bit of a challenge, especially when Kenny develops a romantic attraction to another guy.

- Fucking loves 80s remixes of pop songs. His favorite is the one with Alejandro by Lady Gaga. Aside from that, Kenny’s taste in music is very eclectic.

- His fashion sense is both fucking amazing and semi-questionable at times. You can actually kind of tell who’s more in control on a particular day based on how Kenny’s dressed. If it’s a more masculine sort of outfit, that’s Mysterion; more feminine, that’s Princess; a weird mix of both, that’s Kenny. The kid will wear fishnets under ripped jeans and a croptop when left to his own devices.

- Kenny lets his hair grow out to about his collarbones. Mysterion can just put it into a ponytail and Princess is quite fond of parting it into a set of cute bushy pigtails.

- While Kenny engages in a few pseudo-relationships and some not-so-safe sex throughout his teen years, he eventually develops feelings for Butters and falls hard for him. Even though he doesn’t really know about the whole DID and alters thing, Butters is really good at picking up on the subtleties of Kenny’s switches.

- He is severely nihilistic. The constant dying-and-reviving thing has really warped his perception and value of the world.

- Kenny has a weakness for cute things. It has nothing to do with Princess, he just loves cute stuff. The kid would have eighty-seven of those phone charms shaped like food with the cute smiling faces on them if he had the money.

- He was conceived in that ritual the Cult of Cthulhu got his parents into, and he’s supposed to be a sort of portal through which Cthulhu can properly enter the mortal realm. (Kind of in the same vein as the whole Raven/Trigon thing in Teen Titans.) This would actually permanently kill Kenny. It’s supposed to come to fruition on Kenny’s 18th birthday. 

- Kenny has violet eyes as a result of Cthulhu’s interference. His eyes glow a bit in the dark and when he’s feeling intense emotion.

-Kenny has the potential to go full-on Eldritch Abomination if he’s pushed far enough.

- Despite his poor self-image, Kenny still has a firm moral compass and desire to do good. He will willingly sacrifice himself to save his friends without any influence from Mysterion. He’s very protective of the people he cares about, and places far greater value in their lives and continued survival than he does in his own. (This will continue even after the curse is broken.)

- He grows up to have a facial structure very similar to his father’s. Kenny shaves religiously in order to avoid any further resemblance to the man. (Which is kind of a shame, since he personally thinks he’d look good with a beard. But he can’t get past the strong resemblance, so no beards for him.)

- Kenny would love to be a housewife. However, an entire childhood of abject poverty has left him with a lot of mental blocks preventing him from enjoying that kind of life. Kenny needs to be bringing in a certain amount of income or he starts to get anxious.

- He loves to sing. He’ll sing pretty much anything, but only when he’s alone. People have caught him humming to himself in public, though. He has a great voice, and come middle school it becomes the music teacher’s mission to get Kenny into the choir. His range is enviable and his lung capacity is the stuff of legends.

- Kenny doesn’t play any sports in school due to the expense, but he joins a few intramural teams where the cost is much less. He really likes soccer. He also learns archery, and gets inspired by Lars Andersen, so he gets really fucking good at more medieval style archery.

- The boy never gets past 5’6’’. He doesn’t eat nearly enough or nearly well enough to gain much in the way of height. While he’s not the shortest guy in school (that would Kevin Stoley), he’s dwarfed by most of his friends. It’s a point of contention with him, and he hates when people point it out.

- Kenny and Kevin were very close when they were little, even sharing a room, but when Kenny started to die on a regular basis, Kenny was put in his own room and the two had a falling out when Kevin couldn’t remember any of his deaths. When he gets a bit older, Kenny regrets the fight and wishes he could be that close to his brother again, but instead tries to emulate that relationship with Karen.

- Kenny’s closest to his mother, and she’s his preferred parent. She’d be his go-to parent if he felt he could rely on his parents for decent advice or help. He loves her very much and wants to get her out of poverty, too. The fact that there’s not all that much he can really do to help her is a bit of a sore spot, which feeds into why he’s so focused on taking care of Karen.

- His likelihood of being killed skyrockets on his birthday. As a result, Kenny has never had a birthday party by any stretch of the phrase, he’s never received a single birthday present (although most people swear they gave him one), and he’s grown to kind of hate his birthday. He’s taken to hiding out in his room if he can manage it, but that’s not always successful.

- Kenny goes through a severe nihilistic phase in middle school (around sixth grade, actually) where he doesn’t even bother to try. He ends up borderline-failing everything and starts smoking and hanging out with the goths in order to bitch about how much life sucks. (Butters ends up getting sick of it around April of that school year and essentially manhandles Kenny back into giving a shit about school and life in general.)

- As he gets older, Kenny’s friendships start to shift. He hangs out with Stan and Kyle less and starts hanging out with Craig, Tweek, Bebe, and Red more often. (Ironically all four are the only ‘out’ kids in their class.) He drops Cartman altogether.

- Kenny and Red end up fake dating for nearly a year in order to get Red’s dad off her back. (He doesn’t take her coming out as a lesbian very well, and it’s either pretend to be straight with Kenny or try to dodge her dad’s underhanded efforts to ‘straighten her up’.) This is what spawns the whole ‘fake dating’ business Kenny ends up running throughout high school. He even starts to plan switches with Princess in order to help the guys out, too.

- Kenny has seriously considered applying to Raisins.

[originalpistol]

𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎, 𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘆. 

Running — That’s something I am great at. But I never ran from /you/. There was something about the way your arms wound around the small of my waist, pulling me in, and making me remember what it felt like to call a person home instead of four walls and countless marble pillars. Something in the way your breath would gently cascade in against the delicate flesh of my neck with every heated wind from the slow wind of my hips. A simple, slow tease. Oh, but I knew it was pure torture for you; that’s why I did it. Two small reasons why...why I never strayed, and why I held tight when your presence was nonexistent. I still remembered the shock that settled in the day you knelt down against the warm sand, and pulled out a ring. Pear shaped; my favorite. Simple, golden band. I never was one for over-complicated jewelry. Gross. If that shit has more diamonds than the most important one? Throw it out. But that was something he knew. Boy, did you really do a number on me with this whole setup. Lure me in, take me to our favorite beach, and low and behold? Sharks! The one and only favorite animal of yours truly. Great. Gotta love a man that knows exactly what to do. Fuck, me. So here we were, sharing the best memory I could ever hope for — a shark meet-and-greet. I was right at home in the ocean, swiping light fingers along the silken backs of them, completely mesmerized by the way they moved. And then? That was when he pulled me away; I didn’t mind, I knew the day was drawing to an end, and that was usually the time when sharks become ravenous with hunger. Wish I would’ve sank you to them, honestly. Shit, then I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling stupid. The thing I hate almost more than feeling vulnerable. Good job, pal. The initial pain that followed his disappearance was something that I’d honestly learned to tune out. Just busy, or perhaps just up to some shit I didn’t know or need to know about. Shit happens, Alice. You’ll be fine, just keep on building your empire. So that’s exactly what I did. I built a wedding line while he was off gallivanting. Seven of the eight pieces were nearly finished. All that lacked was the eighth and final dress. Something I had taken my sweet time in both designing, but also in bringing my idea to life. I never had issues on this until now. Where I couldn’t even find the headspace to slip away from the lingering memories of having him at home with me. I used to take my pieces home, give him a little show all his own, and allow him to tell me the small changes to make to the pieces. It was stupid, probably, but it always helped to steady my mind. I still can’t believe I allowed myself to lean on someone else so completely. Wasn’t that the first thing I learned in life from my lunatic mother? Crazy bitch; still locked away in the asylum. If there was one solid piece of advice I’d bother to lend to anyone? Never rely on anyone other than yourself. Your fingers, feet, will, and determination will take you a helluva lot further than anyone else ever will. If you find yourself wanting to lean into or on your partner? Fucking stand up — Stand tall. We don’t have time for that bullshit here. Waiting wasn’t the hard part. Continuing to have hope when you’re six months into being alone? That is the hard part. Going back, recreating each and every little memory you have of him while he won’t let you know he’s still breathing; that’s hard. It’s the whole thing of not knowing, for me. I never thought I would be the kind of girl to sit back and find myself a mess of confusion, anger, and doubt all because of this goddamn ring that sat so prominently against my left ring finger. But yet? I held on, refusing to let go or to give up. Not because of myself, but because I knew the feeling of coming back to an empty life, an empty home. Detriment was a kind way of putting that kind of hurt. Trust, love, compassion; these are all things we built together. Things to which were slowly slipping between my fingertips as the eighth month alone was creeping in. Settling into its place on the chalkboard calendar I’d hung to track both my progress on the wedding show, but also so I would force myself to be conscious in the time that lapsed. Eight fucking months of space between the two of us. I had never felt so empty. Both in mind and in soul. He’d slipped away so easily to my dismay. Not a word, not even a second thought. Maybe marriage wasn’t for me. Perhaps I was the kind of girl that would always find herself in these fucked up situations because this wasn’t something in the deck of cards I’d been playing with? We shall see. Teeter...totter. Back and forth she goes. Do I slip away like he did, or do I give it the full length of a year before I let this crash harder than a car at 80 stopping against a tree? Fuck it. Held on this long, suppose it won’t ruin me any worse to wait it out. Yeah? Yeah. Back to the dress. That’s right. It was mid July — only one dress remained. I slipped another pin from between my lips, into my fingers, and right by my thumb right through the soft — damn near silken, fabric. Weaving the pin into place, and securing it with a final thread of fabric against the shoulder. Draping it down to sit perfect against the shoulder of the mannequin at hand. They would slouch slightly, but never enough to reveal too much skin. Classy. Effortlessly classy. For a moment I pulled away from my project to look over it, eyes narrowing in suspicion and critique of my own work. Everything would be perfect, and without flaw by the time I was done. Nine months deep in this treacherous hell hole of a relationship, ey? Here I go again, making my rounds of excuses for why he’s gone, why he hasn’t said a single word, and why I don’t matter. Here I go venturing into the path of unknown on whether or not I’ll ever speak to the second most important person I’d met. Can’t believe I let him in to this extent. Still feel stupid. My will to push forward with my long-lived journey of waiting was dwindling. Quick. It was almost as if with every tap my nails made against the glass top of my desk, my patience were wearing further. Down the drain. Oh, fucking, well. I remembered typing out my release form, allowing me to escape the confines of this, but instead? I’d somehow turned it into a soppy form of how much I loved this man, and how I was still going to persevere so he would see the love I gave. I couldn’t tell you how badly I wanted to just be able to hear that deep, rusk voice of his. To know he was near. Little did I know, this need to feel him would be met only days later. I was dead to the world on the leather couch in my living room, bottle in hand, and drool dripping down the corner of my mouth. How lady like, Madame Lunatic would be oh sooo proud. Insert eyeroll here, please. Thank you. Anyways. I’d slept for a grand total of three hours when I finally heard the soft ringing of my phone. For the record, I had seven missed calls from Brooklyn at this point. What in the sam fuck is this? “Swain is here!” That was all I had to know, and I immediately sprung into action. Time to see /my/ man. When it was said that it was either Swain or nothing? People meant that. I cared about little to none unless it dealt with him. Dude had my whole heart tangled around his fingers. Even when he wasn’t around. But he was now. That is what mattered, for me. Fuck, yes. I knew there was a reason I kept holding on. This is exactly why I never gave up. He was coming back, he was always meaning to come back. Right? Of course! Wait...but then why had he left for so long in the first place? How could someone who claimed they loved you so fully just...disappear? What kind of things ran through his mind when it wandered to me, and subsequently; did he think of me? Did I actually matter? How could I? Truly, how could I have mattered to this man if he could suck the life from someone so easily? But then again, I couldn’t place that blame solely on him. I chose to wait. I put myself here, but love for me is a beast to remain unconquered. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t overcome if it came between me and someone I loved. He was the one person I loved more than anything. He wants to marry me. He wants to marry me. He’s here now and he wants to marry me. These are the words I had to forcibly think over and over as I pushed pins and needles in and out of the fabric of the dress. My very last dress. The only dress I would start and complete all on my own. The only dress that was completely created by Pistol. So here I was, completely knees deep in tulle and silk, and crystals alike. Beading sure was a fickle little bitch, and my compulsive need to have everything perfect wasn’t helping the situation at all. Guess that’s the price you pay when you know your craft, and you take pride in each and every facetted detail. A small smile managed to hem it’s way onto my lightly lined lips as I stitched in the last few sectors of the bodice. Lace was embellishing the tight corset, meant to strap in everything. There was a soft fabric draping the shoulders, and framing the bodice. That way it would look more vintage than new-age. Paying homage is the purpose, here. Must remain a take on a classic. That small reminder hit me as I was carefully weaving my needle in against the lace. Ocean inspired eyes watched over every stroke, making sure to take the time to correctly stitch everything. Lets see how many years this would take. Kidding. Only took the next two weeks. During those two weeks Swain and I went back and forth of colors for our wedding, the people we should include, and a date. A year. It had almost been a year since we’d gotten engaged and we were finally getting somewhere. Holy hell. I didn’t give a damn that he wanted to scrap the things I’d came up with, either. Not even the tiniest bit. Life was on overload as it was. Hell yeah, you can help! Do what you want, mister man. That was my way of thinking, at this point. I didn’t care if we didn’t invite a single soul to our wedding. I cared about the two of us and that was genuinely it. If you asked me? I was in favor of having this as small as it could be. I’d always been one to remain vulnerable with very few. Besides, he was all I truly needed. A marriage is between two people, not two people and everyone else. No thanks. Including other people in your relationship only succeeds to ruin that relationship. Outside opinions shouldn’t count or matter. This was about he and I. But the excitement that filled me to be able to say we had everything completely mapped out was unreal. I never thought we would get there. Not in the slightest, and especially not with nine months of space. Maybe this is that crazy level of love where nothing really forces you apart, or breaks you. Maybe. Just maybe. Slowly, though, oh so slowly he began to retreat back to the old habit. A few days at a time, at first, and then a week. See, I never was the girl that likes to nag someone because they’re absent for a week or two. Not when I’ve waited far longer. However, when you’ve got so many raw emotions invested into one human being? It’s genuinely a struggle to keep your head screwed on straight when that person starts fading once again. It’s like watching a relative relapse into the same shitty pattern. Over and over. This is where I had to sit back, on my own, and wonder how long until those little cracks in my heart would cause it to shatter? There has to be a limit to where I stay stable against the harsh reality that my favorite sense of comfort is about to wipe all that I’ve held onto, away, and into the nearest breeze. It’s almost as if I could feel the tension rising along my heartstrings. Each and every time I heard those fateful words, ‘I love you.’ There’s nothing more dangerous. October 31st, the big day. Holy hell, it’s finally here. I was going to be Kieran’s wife. His /wife/! The realization hadn’t even remotely set in at this point, but fuck it, I was hype. My nerves were non existent as I bustled to make sure I’d perfectly edited my vows for the man I loved endlessly. The erratic beating of my heart was unlike anything else, and even though I was surrounded by a group of people Swain and I had handpicked to witness our small ceremony? There was a huge weight of nervousness clouding my bronze shoulders. Lord, let's hope that my vows are enough. Nothing too short, nothing too long. Please, let me be enough. He said 2 o’clock. It is now well past 5p.m., but maybe he’s caught up and needs some time? Maybe a hundred different scenarios could’ve happened and that’s why he isn't here. Why I am standing here, wondering, waiting. My mind was running a million miles to the minute as I was being asked where he was, and if we were going to actually get married today. I hoped so. I remembered rolling the ring around the knuckle of my finger time and time again to ease my growing pangs of anxiety towards the situation at hand. He promised. He planned this. Why wouldn’t he show up, and how could /I/ not be enough to extract a goddamn hour of his time? One hour. That is all I wanted. Would I gladly accept and take more if the opportunity arises? Of course, but the chances of that were extremely slim. I knew that. I might’ve been in denial, but it wasn’t that goddamn strong. I could see two inches out from my feet, at the very least. As the hours passed, my anxiety level spiked, only to drop into the realization that it was now six hours later and not a word was said. No sorry, no dumbass excuse of what kept him from being here, from loving me. From making up all that time he’d already taken away. There really was nothing. Not a damn thing. You. I have loved you from the start. You drug me in with those stupid stoner jokes (that we both laugh at as if we’re kids), and kept me with your heart. When I think about you I see more than a body. I see your soul, your heart, and the mind that keeps it all afloat. I see you, Kieran. I’ve spent so many months learning any and everything from you that I can. And somehow it’s still hard to believe that we are here: waiting to be one. I know it’s probably weird for you to see this side of me; hell, it’s weird for me. But you allow me to be soft. To have emotion and to be vulnerable. You are my better half. You make all of the bullshit dissipate, and you are the light when everything seems to drown in black. I couldn’t be more thankful for someone than I am for you. But I’ve found myself thanking whatever higher power is there, for letting me find you. To have your love. And to be able to hide against you when shit gets hard. Marriage is something I /never/ thought /I/ would experience. But here I am. Here /you/ are. We’re fucking gettin’ married, and I couldn’t be more happy! I love you. More than a broken record loves to skip on the best part of a song. You have always and will always hold my heart and my hand. You are my most important. My constant. My rock. My ever-lasting love. The only one I would want to do forever with. You save me. In so many ways; from myself. You’ve always done that. Oh, but I doubt if you ever knew. You have bettered me in ways I don’t even know how to say, but baby? When I peer into those baby blue’s of yours I find myself watching out who life play out. The images I never thought I was worthy of. Being a wife. Being a mother. Owning about ninety-eight dogs. You’ve made me come alive in every sense of that word, and I love you even more for that. Loving. Admirable. Caring. Warm like the sun. Sweet. Honorable. Courageous. Funny. Talented. Wise. These are just a few words I have when it comes to you. These are aspects I watch flutter through your being each and every day. You inspire me to be a better woman in hopes that I will be the best for you. You called me the sun when you asked me to marry you, oh but you’ve never seen what you look like through my eyes, Kieran. You make me stand breathless all the time. And when I hear that deep voice of yours, signifying you’re home? Goddamn if my heart doesn’t want to run to you. Back to its home. Where I feel my safest. Because for me? You are my home. Fuck a house. It’s you. It has been you from the second week I knew you. So, Thank you, Kieran for always loving me. For staying even when I was the biggest pain in the ass. And for deciding you wanted to deal with my bullshit for the long haul. With that being said; please kiss me. Make me your wife, and let me take your last name, mister. Because I’m too in love with you for every passing minute it only gets stronger.‘ Those were the words that lay splattered across the back of this postcard I found nearly a year back. See, I wrote my vows far before I was ever even engaged to this man. He was my rock, my heart, my best friend. In every form possible, and I knew from the jump that it would always be him and I. Or, at least, that’s how it felt and seemed to be panning out. I felt like I was on top of the world when I felt the love he shared with me. He brought my heart to where it needed to be, and helped make me who I am. I knew that. But as I thought about the last year, I couldn’t help but to feel my pastel pink fingernails dig down into the weathered-most side of the postcard, tears welled, and soon strolled down the sides of my cheeks. I was slipping lower to the ground in hopes that I could avoid the incoming questions of our closest friends regarding our marriage. A marriage that wasn’t going to fail, because it couldn’t even start. I wasn’t worth the shot. The time. The effort...or the energy it took to simply show up. Processing the next few hours was something I didn’t fully understand, or know how to do. Maybe I’ll just push it away, or down? That’s usually how I would respond to a situation like this, but yet here I was. Still waiting. Everyone else gave up hours ago. Tears continued their way down my face, and I moved to get comfy in my favorite chair, in my home, that I shared as ours for over a year. Slap in the face. Insult to injury, as I thought more and more on this whole ordeal. What was I going to do? Was he ever coming back? Would he have the balls? OF COURSE HE WOULD! Here he was, in the early hours of the next morning. Did he apologize? Yes. Did it really mean anything? Not particularly. Did he give me an excuse? Also yes, but it wasn’t enough. Just that Halloween, the date he chose, was his favorite holiday (Mine too, but I don’t count, remember.) and he was busy enjoying it. You could’ve let me know, jackass. You could have taken three minutes to say you wouldn’t make the wedding. We either needed to reschedule or stop. Reschedule or leave. Those were the options I saw. The only ones that were worth a damn, and that would actually somehow save my heart a little bit. Would it fully save me? Fuck no, but in this case? I supposed every little bit really did count, didn’t it? Perhaps. We would see what came of this. To answer that one — A quick back and forth with how embarrassed I was, and how he didn’t care enough to save me from, what felt like, the ultimate embarrassment. I didn’t know what to do. I went back and forth with him. Fuck, me. Here we go again. How was it that all he needed to do was apologize, and I was going to nod my agreement to reschedule this? Yep. Yes, I was. Because why? Because I loved him more than I had anyone yet, and I had never been one to give up. Especially not when it came to anyone I loved. Perhaps that was my biggest downfall; the fact that I always loved to put those that I love before me. I could feel the rhythm of my heart picking up in pace, and the strong red discoloration coming into play along my chest and neck. God, I wanted to claw that skin away. Keep your hands away, Alice. Stop. It is going to be okay. I wanted to scream from the whole anxiety of it all. Not knowing what he would do next. Would he actually do what he said, or was this yet another empty promise for me to put weight into, and continue to feel my heart fall at the end of another dead-end result? September 1st.. That’s our new date for the wedding. Update all the guests. Everyone was ready. I was ready. Beyond so, even, and again? No Swain. Right back in stagnant water, huh. I needed to go, to get out. But I fought that overwhelming sensation turned urge to run from every part of this. I fought so fucking hard, and somehow I never got very far with it. Not in the slightest, and maybe that was one of the most devastating moments that compiled this shitty, shitty day? A sigh of defeat crossed my ruby red lips, and I nodded to myself in acknowledgement that he had fooled me this time, too. Here I was, with all the hope in the world, and a bouquet of daffodils. Soft, blue eyes swam in an ocean of pain as I sank into the nearest chair. Forget your life as you knew it, Alice. Forget the hope, forget the way he lies in his love for you. Someone who loved you a fraction of the amount he claims wouldn’t have done this. This guy is fine, just living his life, and at the expense of your raw heart. Pick yourself up, do better. But I can’t. I love him. Oh, the memory of it all was almost too real in this moment, and I could feel the want to let my tears form, but I would fight that, too. I was not allowed the right to be fragile or emotional, or vulnerable in any light. I am strong, right? Right...at least, that’s what I’ve always told myself. A day and a half later — That was the last time I saw him, and the last time my heart wept with weathered pain. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way he spoke to me that day. I was a stranger, not the woman he wanted to marry, and that much was clear. I’d never seen him so cold, and why? For what reason was I given this kind of treatment? Because I stayed, and never gave up or gave in…? Was it because I loved him so completely and unconditionally? Was my love something too heavy to hold, for him? Did I, unintentionally, become a burden in the enormous love I shared? Every one of these questions plagued me for so damn long. They still do. But closure is a friend I do not know, nor do I yearn to. I only wish I could erase one thing that was spoken to me that day, “You know that even when we get married, I’m still not going to be around much, right?” There it was, I guess. What I knew he was doing, but at least? At least if he didn’t say it out loud, I wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of it all. I could just keep playing along as if my heart wasn’t slowly falling to a billion little shards, sharp as nails, and cutting me wide every time I attempted to bring myself together. God knows, he wasn’t going to even attempt to give me that small ounce of comfort that I was begging for. My pain was unimaginable. Sometimes it still haunts me. What makes me so hard to love...to deal with? Even with that guilt coming into play that I was the reason behind his drive to be so far? I found myself wanting nothing more than to love this man, who broke me so easily. “Never forget that I love you,” Boy sure did know how to sell it. All the way. Full fucking send. That was the last thing I told him, was how much I loved him. And then he was gone. I was broken. Void to everyone and everything around me, in entirety. I just didn’t care anymore. My wedding line was ready for the show in a week, and I was alienating myself from everyone in my life. Block them out. That’s all I cared to do. It wasn’t until the morning of the show that I found myself allowing a smile to crack along the lines of my lips. I had every dress perfectly organized in each bride’s dressing room, and on the eight one? I hung a sign on the door asking for privacy. She’d want to get herself ready for this day. Over the past few months, I’d gotten to know her fairly well, and I decided to do her this due justice. None of the other brides were aware of who the eighth bride was, and that was exactly as planned. I nodded to each of these women as I shut them into their spaces with their dresses. None had laid eyes on the finished product until this moment, and for once? I found comfort in not knowing the immediate reaction. Instead? I moved back down the long hallway, and stepped behind the door of my own little space. Here I could allow my soul some comfort, and a moment of peace before the runway bliss and clamor. Breathing was something that had become hard here lately. It was like I was suffocating beneath the pressure of tons of water. I couldn’t seem to get ahead of it, but yet here I was. Doing what I had always done, what I was good at — Acting like I was perfectly okay when I was anything but. One foot stepped down, into the dress, followed by the other. I’d made sure to have the perfect one for the show. Time in advance, and all. One couldn’t simply create a full wedding line, and look mediocre herself. I smiled up at myself as I lifted the dress from the floor, to my shoulders, and allowed Elie to complete fastening the back. Any other show? This would’ve been Swain’s place. To let his fingertips glide against the seam of my back, and drop a soft, simple kiss to my shoulder. But that was gone. A distant memory. Diminished, now, and I couldn’t allow myself that memory. Not now. Not today. I’d let Oscar take over guiding the girls in who was to take their walk down the runway, and when. I’d decided to take this time to myself, to ready myself. I kicked Elie out a few moments later only so I could wipe away the makeup I’d let a tear roll through, and for reapplication. Once that was done, I brought a diamond encrusted pin to slip between caramel locks, and fastened it in place. Both feet slipped down into my favorite pair of Louboutin shoes, and I took a few deep breaths before I headed out of the room, and down the hall...again. This time my heart was damn near jumping out of my chest, and I looked to both of these wonderful men for a brief moment before I moved to the stage entrance. All of the brides were lined up on the opposite side of the stage, where no one could see me from my current position. They’d taken their walks. Now it was my turn. Within the next few moments, life was a blur. It always was when I debuted a new line. Slowly, I stepped up to the stage, conscious of the dress, and overly conscious of what was going on. I allowed my smile to pour its way onto my porcelain features as I looked out at the hundreds of flashing lights, and began my journey down the runway. The dress was a tribute to a classic, just as all the rest. But this one hadn’t been touched by any hands other than my own. I’d taken months on months to create and sew this dress together. Lace, tulle, silk. All simple fabrics, with intricate weavings. Beautiful fabrics, for what was meant to be the most beautiful day. This was the first time I’d ever been allowed to step foot into my masterpiece. It never shined on its day of purpose. He’d ripped that away from me, hell, he’d never even known I was the eighth bride in my show. No one had. But here I was, making my way down, step by step, flash by flash, and with ease of motion. I’d learned how to fake it better than most, and this was where I used that to my advantage. The shoulders of my dress slouched along my slender shoulders, just as they were meant to, and everything fell perfectly into place. I had created something so beautiful, so perfect for my wedding day. It never shined on its day of purpose. “Oh my god, it was her this whole time?!” I heard those words as I was stepping back towards the exit of the stage, and I felt as if my heart was ready to shatter from the trauma of it all, all over again. And I was angry. So fucking angry at how I hadn’t been given the opportunity to shine, or to love, or to hurt. I’d only been allowed to deal with things as they came at me, in the moment, and never to process them. I continued to fake a smile as I stood alongside my co-creators of this line and took our final bows, but as soon as I managed to step away? I was gone. I needed to get out. I had to go. The urge to rip my skin off was rapidly approaching, and before my chest could start splotching, I needed to go. I knew exactly where, and truth be told? I never thought I would want to retrace my steps back to that spot, but here I was; already en route. My knuckles were white against the steering wheel as I flew down the PCH, throwing all caution to the wind, and not giving a damn about any speed limit in sight. Who cared, anyways. At this rate, it only took me a little over an hour to make it to the ocean. Well. The specific beach that Swain took me to nearly a year ago. Once I pulled in, I cut the engine, and sat there. Watching the waves crash against the sea-soaked sand, and rocks. I felt numb. I didn’t move, but instead? I reached over into my glove-box, and stole a cigarette to place between my lips. Lighter in hand. It was then that I slipped from the confines of the car, and made my way down the rocky path to where he asked me to marry him. I stood in the exact same spot I had then, and simply moved to unbutton the dress as best as I could. Rocking to and fro, ever so slightly, against my feet, as I did this. I didn’t speak. I didn’t think. I just let the dress fall to the sand. Leaving me in nothing more than my white, corseted slip, and heels. The cigarette remained between my lips as I flicked the igniter on the lighter, and took a nice, long drag. Ah, the ease of nicotine. Something to steady my restless and relentless nerves. In that same moment? I lifted the train of my dress, riddled with lace, and flicked the lighter to life once more. It took little longer than a minute to watch all my hard-work, love, and determination go up into flames. Just the same as my love for him. Burn the bridge, burn the memory. With the next drag of the cigarette, I was gone again. Sunk back into the seat of my ‘69 Hemi, and flying down the highway once more. It was time to go home. I am good at running. I am good at burning bridges. I am good at loving. I am good at many things. But what I am not good at is handling trauma. So, I’ll give you a Pro Tip: Never design and sew your own goddamn wedding dress. That shit will burn you far worse than any flame ever could. Much love, The Eighth Bride.