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boop-le-snoot · 3 years ago

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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

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emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago

Text

Helluva Deal (Miraculous X Helluva Boss)

Well, since Miraculous crossovers with Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel are a thing now, I figured I’d write my own on how I think it would likely go. Since this IS the Helluva Boss universe, expect mentions of death and the afterlife, allusions to violence, innuendos, and general inappropriateness:

“Let me get this straight.”

Blitzo stared down the demon before him.

Said demon simply looked back, unimpressed. The little thing was small with blue skin, dorky-looking round glasses, and uneven horns. It wasn’t even a notable demon. Just a random weaker demon who somehow got the funds to pay for their services.

And normally, Blitzo was hardly one to turn down money—or a job that offered money. But this…

“You want to pay us to kidnap someone from Earth—not murder, which is in our company’s name, but kidnap. Which is decidedly more difficult and less fun.”

“Yep.”

Blitzo steepled his fingers together and held them up to his face. “And you want this person kidnapped—not so you can kill her yourself for whatever issue you may have, but because you want her to make you a jacket.”

“Yep.”

“A plain old jacket you could just get anywhere here in Hell.”

The demon gasped in offense. “It’s not just ANY jacket! It’s an MDC original piece and I want one!”

Blitzo took a breath, getting the feeling he was going to regret this.

“Why?”

This…made the demon pause and eventually shrug. “Well, I did say I would have died for an MDC jacket. And I’m dead now, so…gimme.”

Well, who was he to argue with that logic?

Although…

“That is going to require quite a bit more effort…” He started, obviously leading…

The demon gave a flat look. “I’m not paying you double. I need the rest to pay her for the jacket.”

“Why would you want to pay for it?” Blitzo demanded. “This is Hell! You’re a demon! Just steal one!”

“It’s a commission! I have to pay for it!”

Blitzo would have spit out his drink if he’d had one.

“What are you even in Hell for, anyway? You won’t kill. You won’t steal. You just want to pay some human for a jacket you could get anywhere. What’s the point of that?” He asked, giving the other demon a strange look because really, what kind of demon WANTED to pay for things?

The demon stared flatly at Blitzo, his tail flicking against the chair in apparent increasing agitation.

"Are you saying that a commission shouldn't be paid for?” The demon asked curiously, sounding a little...too polite. “Because the last guy who tried to skip out on paying for a commission died. Eyes stabbed out and everything. Do you want to risk that kind of thing happening to you?"

…

Blitzo paled.

“Oh.”

The silence lingered to the point of long past uncomfortable as the demon continued to wait for an answer and Blitzo’s not so subtle attempt to desperately press his secret security button under his desk had no effect.

This would turn out to be because of Loona disconnecting the thing due to her hangover. Though in the moment, Blitzo would choose to blame Moxie.

After a good minute of no response from his team, Blitzo started to sweat when the determined artist demon seemed to grow bored and pulled out a pencil.

He jumped to his feet.

“We’ll take the case!”

And immediately fled the room.

_______

Once on Earth, the problem came up rather quickly that they had no idea who MDC was or how to access them. The client only knew the target was a fashion designer in Paris, which narrowed it down to one city at least but still was little help when the city in question was one of the fashion capitals of the world.

Blitzo, naturally, took the lead in trying to work out a means of information gathering.

And by “naturally”, what was really meant was “horribly failing”.

“I’m telling you, the plan is foolproof. We hold someone for ransom until MDC trades herself.” Blitzo said with apparent glee.

“Sir, that would be the exact opposite of subtle and get us the wrong kind of attention!”

Moxie, for his part, was trying to come up with what he would call “sensible plans”. Millie was simply scouting the area while the two argued. Ever faithful Loona stayed behind to try using her own connections…a magazine.

Needless to say, Blitzo was the one carrying the team. Or at least in his not-so-humble opinion.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans, Moxie.”

The smaller demon gave his boss a disgruntled glare. “I already told you! We should just go back and ask the client for more information!”

“Hmm…” Blitzo paused, before pulling out his phone. “Hey, Loona. The client still in my office?”

“Yeup.”

Blitzo immediately closed the phone. “Yeah—nope.”

“Sir—”

“He gouged a guy’s eyes out, Moxie! I need my eyes! I’m too pretty to lose them! They frame my face!” Blitzo exclaimed, bringing his hands up to his head in a fit of dramatics. “Is that what you want, Moxie? Do you want me to lose my precious, precious eyes?”

Moxie stared at the man like he was insane. Granted, Moxie had long had doubts about his boss’s sanity, but still...

“Hey, fellas?” Millie called, interrupting the two as she waved them over to the side of the building they had set up a temporary base atop of. “Listen to this!”

Blitzo immediately headed over, with Moxie following along behind looking annoyed. As they got closer, they heard what Millie had called them over about. Blitzo leaned over and peeked into the room in question.

Below them was an open window of the building where apparently a number of teenagers were gathered within for some inexplicable reason. And in this specific room, a group of the teens were gathered around one particular girl with a large forehead and hair that appeared to be made of meat. It was this girl who had their attention.

“—really friends with MDC?” One short blonde asked, looking overly excited like Blitzo did when he got a paycheck.

“Of course!” The meat-girl replied, looking smug. “We go way back! I was even the one who encouraged him to start in fashion and inspired his Heroes line.”

Blitzo looked back up at his team. “I thought MDC was a girl?”

Moxie shrugged. “If no one knows their real identity who's to say if they're a boy or a girl?"

“What else are they saying?” Millie asked, which returned the focus to the room.

More talking from below, using words that none of the demons really understood or cared about.

“—which was why he even made the Fox outfit for me!”

“Wasn’t that design based on Rena Rouge rather than Volpina?” One other girl with blue hair asked from the doorway of the room. She appeared to be rather annoyed for some odd reason.

The meat-girl looked somber. “Well, that was before he had to change it. After all, as bold as he is, not many people would support an akuma line, even if he had kept my idea to donate the funds to charity for the victims.”

The group “oo”-ed over the girl and praised her for her thoughtfulness. The meat-girl preened at the attention. The bluenette rolled her eyes. Some other blond guy looked on in disappointment.

“How amazing!” The little blonde exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I’d love to be able to meet MDC!”

“So would we!”

All eyes fell to the window which Blitzo, Millie, and Moxie used to make their entrance.

Honestly, he thought it was one of his better displays of dramatics. It certainly warranted some applause. Or screams of fear. Maybe one fainting.

“Akuma!”

Honestly, he was rather disappointed by the underwhelming response.

“I know we're demons and all, but I thought this place was French, not Japanese!"

“Nevermind that.” Blitzo replied to his workers before stepping forward to face the students.

Or rather one student in particular.

“Greetings! I am Blitzo. The two behind me are Millie and Moxie.”

The class stared as one of the two glared at them while the other waved cheerfully—or would be considered cheerfully if her teeth weren’t so razor sharp.

“We represent IMP, a for-hire group out of Hell. We take contracts, complete tasks, and make wishes come true!”

The teens looked at the demons in wariness and confusion.

“That sounds nice…” The little blonde in pink said.

“Those wishes generally involve murder.”

“I take it back! That sounds horrible!”

Blitzo grinned. “We are the ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’, dealing with the unfinished business of those poor wretched souls who are seeking some small vindication in their current status in Hell.”

“Then…why are you here?” The bigger male demanded.

Blitzo ignored him in favor of his true target.

“You! Ugly girl!” He shouted, grabbing the meat-girl.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, insulted.

He shook her. “Take us to MDC and we’ll rip out those sausage-links you call hair!”

“…don’t you mean ‘or’?”

He grinned ferally.

“No.”

She shrieked in fear.

“Lila!” Others cried out in horror.

Ah, yes. There was the fear. This, Blitzo was good with. It made him feel better about the previous lackluster response to his entrance.

“Why do you want me?!” The girl—Lila shouted, looking panicked. “I don’t know where MDC is!”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “But you said you were friends.”

She glanced around, taking note of the fact that her cohorts were still in the room. Though he didn’t know why that should matter for her answer.

“We are! But…I don’t know where he lives now! He’s moved since his name got out there and hasn’t given me the address yet!”

A glasses-wearing girl frowned in confusion. “But didn’t you just say that he invited you to his house for fittings?”

“Yeah, you said it was for the latest line that just came out.” Another girl with multi-colored hair added.

“That was months ago. Before he moved.” Lila replied quickly. “So I can’t help you.”

“Sure, you can!” Blitzo replied jovially. “We can just use you as ransom until MDC agrees to hand himself over.”

Moxie approached the two, keeping his gun leveled at the other kids. “We can save some time and see if she can’t call him.”

“Hey, yeah!” Millie agreed, grabbing Lila’s bag off of her and searching for her phone. “If they’re friends, she’s gotta have his contact info!”

“It’s not in there!” Lila replied quickly. “I was worried someone would steal my phone to get his info so I don’t keep his number in my phone!”

Millie frowned, before holding the now open phone up to Lila. “Then just type in the number yourself.”

Lila glanced around the room in growing agitation. “I can’t! I don’t have it memorized!”

“Then where did you write it down?”

“I lost it!”

The demons were looking particularly vexed.

“When and where?”

“It was a while ago. I don’t know where.” Lila replied.

A girl with glasses looked at her in confusion. “But didn’t you say you just called him this morning to congratulate him on the new line? And that he promised you a free outfit as thanks for all your help?”

Lila paled. “I—”

“Then the number should still be in the phone under its call history.” Moxie noted. Millie grinned and looked back to the phone screen to look through the data.

“I deleted it right after!” Lila shouted desperately.

Millie looked up at her in irritation.

Then promptly crushed the phone in her grip.

Lila shrieked, though it would be up for debate as to whether it was in shock at the loss of her phone or in fear that she may soon share that same fate.

Blitzo seemed similarly put out, but ended up shrugging it off as he pulled Lila closer to him. “Then it’s back to Plan A to hold her for ransom. Or torture her to see if she can’t remember the details.”

“No, please!”

“Lila!”

“Let her go!”

Lila grabbed at the arm holding her, panicked but not enough beyond reasoning. She couldn’t afford to reveal she lied now. She could only hope that these monsters would take her somewhere private where she could manipulate them with less witnesses.

Marinette, for her part, was also analyzing the situation.

These were three unknowns. Definitely not akumas. If they were to be believed, they were actual demons. From Hell. Which existed, apparently. And was where Lila would likely find herself in the next hour if she kept this up.

But from Lila’s expression, it seemed she was insistent on staying tight-lipped about her lies. Marinette figured as much due to her history. But she would have thought that Lila would have had some measure of self-preservation. Though perhaps that only applied to the preservation of her lies and manipulations rather than her own well being.

It was clear that Lila wasn’t going to get herself out of this. Not in any way that would spare her and everyone else in the room, at any rate.

As it was, the classmates were about to rally in Lila’s defense. While they had stood their own against akumas in the past,Marinette didn’t want to see how well they would fare against demons. Nor did she want to have to test if the Miraculous Cure would be enough to fix whatever would be left of them if they tried.

Marinette looked to the doorway.

No one was paying any attention to her right now. She could escape. She could go out, find a place to transform, and come back to deal with these…demons.

But by the time she returned, who was to say what could happen. The demons could kill Lila. They could kill all of her friends for being witnesses.

Ladybug may not be able to fix this.

But Marinette…as Marinette, she could.

“I’m MDC.” Marinette admitted.

Everyone froze.

“Come again.”

“MDC.” Marinette enunciated. “It stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My name. I’m MDC. I’m the one you want.”

Alya stared. “Girl?”

Moxie looked at her in consideration. “That would fit with the client’s report of MDC being female.”

Millie, frowned in suspicion. “How do we know she’s really MDC?”

Marinette took a breath and slowly pulled out her tablet. “Well, my signature is in the clothes, so if you’ll let me pull up one of the shots, I can point it out and—”

Blitzo cut her off, grabbing her arm. “Yeah, I think we’ll just take you both and let the client sort it out. Sound good? Good, because we’re leaving.”

“Bye all!” Millie said, waving to the group. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Moxie rolled his eyes. “That’s a pretty short list…”

Blitzo ignored them an opened a portal, dragging both girls after him. Without a glance back, both Millie and Moxie followed him through the portal. Before anyone else could move, the gateway closed behind them.

A long pause followed.

“Not so fast!”

Suddenly, the door was kicked open as Chat Noir burst into the room.

The much less enemy-filled room.

“Um…did I miss the party?”

_______

The room they soon found themselves appeared, for all intents and purposes, completely normal. It looked like an office of the sort they’d find anywhere in Paris. Complete with a secretary’s desk, a few chairs, and a table littered with magazines.

The difference was made quickly apparent, however, through the view out the window. The landscape the deceptively quaint room was mostly a collage of red and black, with a sunless sky above and a myriad of strange buildings. Also of note where the various denizens of…distinctly non-human appearance wandering the streets outside.

“All right, ladies! Welcome to Hell!” Blitzo announced with a flourish, causing the girls to pale.

Lila fell back with a screech, landing on her butt and immediately attempting to scuttle back away. Her path was quickly halted as she bumped into something. Looking up, that “something” was actually a wolf monster, making Lila panic even further.

Loona, for her part, was not having a good morning—ignoring, of course, that it was actually the afternoon. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that her hangover still hadn’t cleared, now some…thing had shoved into her, followed shortly by an ear-piercing shriek that only made her head feel worse.

Seeing the way the wolf demon growled, Lila opened her mouth, possibly to scream even more when Marinette quickly shoved a hand over her mouth with a smile to Loona.

“Oh my! Your hairstyle is quite lovely!” She lied. Blatantly lied to the wolf girl’s face.

“It’s bed-head.”

“I couldn’t even tell. It looks so sleek and shiny!”

“Whatever.” Loona grumbled and stormed off to the break room, slamming the door behind her (and then immediately regretting it due to the noise agitating her headache).

Marinette decided to take the initiative. “So…what do you want with us, anyway?”

“Our client paid us a pretty penny—”

“Basic contract.” Moxie interrupted.

“Pretty. Penny.” Blitzo continued as if he hadn’t heard. “For a chance to meet with MDC.”

Okay, they had mentioned that before.

“Then what?”

“If you are MDC, you can do whatever the client is wanting. If you’re not, you’ll at least make for a decent distraction while we escape and blow up the building.”

The humans in the room blanched at that.

“WHAT?!”

“I know. She was a beautiful building.” Blitzo said mournfully as he actually wiped a tear from his eye. “And I just got my office arranged how I like it, too. But it

Marinette stared.

Lila whimpered.

“I second that ‘what’.” Moxie interrupted. “Nobody at any point discussed blowing up the building!”

“It was on page 3 of the handout I gave you this morning, Moxie.” Blitzo exclaimed, covering his eyes in exasperation. “At least read the mission briefings!”

“Sir, the ‘handout’ was a paper napkin. There was no third page!” Moxie insisted.

Beside him, Millie for her part was looking over the aforementioned napkin for the part that was supposed to mention the circumstances in question…or really any of the plan.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Blitzo said over his shoulder to Moxie as he proceeded to grab both human girls and drag them over to a previously closed door.

“Hey wait—!”

“Hang on!”

Within seconds, Blitzo opened the door and proceeded to shove both girls through before slamming it shut behind them, the last thing they heard being him mentioning where to buy explosives.

_______

So.

Recap.

Hell was real. Demons were a thing. And the two human girls were getting a first hand view of the less than pleasant or holy side of the afterlife.

Marinette was…actually taking it all in stride.

Lila was less so. She was sitting ramrod straight in the chair, keeping a tight grip on her knees and trying very hard not to move as her eyes glanced quickly around the room at the assembled demons.

Marinette actually felt bad for her. And probably should have been panicking herself, all things considered. Maybe she would have been had it not been for her extensive experience as Ladybug.

Sure, it was Hell, but floating gods and people turning into monsters had already broadened her horizons of the possibilities of the universe. Plus despite the name of the company that had kidnapped them both, murder didn’t appear to be on the table. All in all, despite the circumstances, Marinette didn’t feel that scared.

The fact that the “client” in question who hired the group was actually a fan of hers wanting a commission helped quite a bit with that.

As did the flattery.

“OMG! OMG! I can’t believe it! It’s you! Can I get your autograph?! No—wait! I need to focus! Can I get a jacket with your autograph?!”

“Thank you.” Marinette said, somewhat flustered. Honestly, she hadn’t thought she had gained THAT much fame. Especially not enough for someone to want to commission her from the afterlife.

…was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“What I don’t get is why the other girl had to tag along?” The demon asked, curiously. “Is she your assistant or something?”

Lila brightened, looking ready to speak—likely to try to lie her way out of this. Or mess up what little peace Marinette had managed to create.

“No!” Marinette interrupted quickly, ignoring Lila’s petulant glare. “No, she’s not. There was just a mix up since they didn’t know where I was or who to bring.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Well, how were we supposed to know?!”

“You could have asked me when I contracted you.” Said the demon, somewhat annoyed.

“I have a website, you know.” Said Marinette, very annoyed.

They paused.

“…the fuck’s a website?”

Silence.

Marinette coughed. “In any case, you wanted to commission me?”

“Oh, yes!”

_______

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements. Marinette named her prices and the demon was more than willing to pay her for her services. They made use of Blitzo’s office to negotiate and fine tune some details regarding the arrangement. From determining the materials to writing up the contract to negotiating the costs, it was all pretty professional.

And ultimately involved the humans not being murdered and the building not being blown up, which was always preferable.

It finally came down to determining just how the demon customer wanted the jacket to look, and Marinette started drawing out some sample sketches on spare paper in the office that may or may not have been important documents for Blitzo which she may or may not have particularly cared given the whole “kidnapping and being used as a sacrifice” matter.

The only issue seemed to be that the demon customer wanted the jacket to be made of materials that were only available in Hell. Which made sense, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure how long anything she made on Earth would last in this environment. Millie and Moxie had been sent out to gather the necessary material in question, and what they returned with was a strange sort of leather. It was unique and of a color she had never seen before, and part of her really wanted to get a bit more detail about the make.

…given how pale Lila had already gotten, Marinette kindly decided to refrain from asking questions.

“Well then, let’s go over a few sketches and determine which one you like.”

The demon looked almost giddy at the prospect. The IMP team looked relieved. Except Blitzo, who still seemed to be pouting over their takeover of his office.

Lila was…less enthused. “WHAT?! What are you thinking?! He’s a demon!”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I do have a non-discrimination clause.”

“That shouldn’t apply to demons!” Lila hissed lowly.

“The demons who have brought us to Hell and are currently our only way of getting back.” Marinette pointed out, dryly.

Lila huffed and went back to her chair.

So, with Blitzo and his team begrudgingly kindly being forced willing to donate their office for her use, Marinette sent to work to try and design a jacket to the client’s taste as quickly as possible.

The sooner she got done, the sooner they could go back to Earth.

…hopefully.

Lila, for her part, was terrified and miserable and just wanting to go back to Earth. Immediately would be preferable. Even without Marinette.

Yeah, thanks Lila.

“Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I go back home? Or do anything else?”

The client tilted his head. “Are you saying you don’t like art? Because the last person who told me they didn’t like art had their eyes stabbed out. With pencils. Would you want that to happen to you?”

“…can’t I like art and not stay in Hell?”

“No.”

Lila paled and sunk lower in her seat, where she remained quiet for the next couple of hours while Marinette worked.

It was mostly in silence as Marinette drew one sketch after another. Asking occasional questions about preferred length, how many pockets, special embellishments, and which parts of the various jacket styles did he prefer. Eventually, they had come to an agreement about the set look he wanted, the materials needed, and when he wanted it completed by. And from there came the matter of payment…

“Um…I’m not sure what the exchange rate is for Hell currency.” Marinette said, looking at the coins he handed her.

The demon frowned, tilting his head in consideration. “I could always rob a human bank and pay you with that.”

Marinette paled.

“This is fine. Really. I can probably buy some things from Hell with this.” She said with a forced smile.

“There are tons of things you can only find here.” Millie said, brightening. “We could deliver them for you!”

Well, that was a good point.

“That’s true.” Moxie agreed. “You could make other things with the fabrics here. Hats. Shirts.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at Millie who was busy chatting with the customer regarding the fabric he chose. Seeing she was suitably distracted, he turned to Marinette. “So…how much would it be to make a dress. Just out of curiosity.”

Aww. Even in Hell there was love.

She smiled. “We can certainly discuss it.”

The moment was ruined as Blitzo stepped in and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulder.

“How about one of those sexy maid outfits for the bedroom? You’re French, right?” He asked before giving Moxie a nudge. “You could stand to have a little more fun in the bedroom.”

“Sir, I’m 14.” Marinette replied dryly.

“And what we do in the bedroom is none of your business!” Moxie rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about this last week?”

Marinette coughed as the two started to argue. “So…um…are we going to return to Earth so I can start working on this?”

Blitzo sighed. “Fine, fine. Killjoys.”

Lila heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

_______

With an agreement forged between Marinette and IMP to have the customer’s order completed and delivered within two week’s time, Marinette and Lila were safely deposited back in their classroom no worse for wear.

…well, physically. Mentally, there were probably going to be a few scars.

Several of their classmates had apparently remained since the earlier incident. Perhaps it was out of worry? Or maybe classes had resumed after their disappearance—akuma attacks and strange circumstances had become rather common, after all.

Still, it was Alya’s cry of surprise and then being pulled into a hug that assured Marinette she was, in fact, back home.

“You’re back!” Alya exclaimed, relieved. “We were so worried!”

It wasn’t every day your best friend and classmate was dragged to Hell, after all.

“—and I’d been trying to reach out to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but only Chat showed up and Ladybug must be busy or maybe she already knew? Did she help you? How did you escape?”

Part of her wondered if Alya had even stopped to breathe. The rest of her was just basking in the happiness that they had made it back safe and nothing too terrible had happened in the meantime.

The absolute LAST thing she needed was to come back and find out Hawk Moth had let loose another akuma that destroyed Paris while she was gone.

Alya suddenly gasped as though struck by a thought.

“Oh my god, Marinette! I can’t believe you did that!”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I had to—”

“You claimed to be MDC just to protect Lila! And here I thought you hated her!”

Happy feeling gone. Gone like a punch to the face. Knocked out. Dead, even.

Alya beamed. “I’m so proud of you, girl! I knew deep down that—”

“Nope!” Came a quick interruption. “That’s not what happened. It was just a lie. Completely and utterly.”

The interruption was half expected.

The fact that it came from Lila was not.

Everyone froze.

“What?”

“I never met MDC.” Lila explained, wasting absolutely no time with subtleties and just blurting it out. “I never knew Marinette was MDC. I just lied about knowing him because I thought he was the next big thing and I knew you would all believe me.”

“…what?”

Lila sighed. “I lied about knowing MDC. And being the muse behind his fashion line—well, hers. Since Marinette is MDC. She never lied. I did.”

The classmates were startled, but seemed to be taking in the information.

Rose, for her part, tried to be positive. “Oh...well, you didn’t have to lie about knowing MDC—”

“No, I mean about everything. Ever. In fact, there’s probably not a single time we’ve known each other that I was ever honest with any of you.”

Everyone stared.

“I’ve been lying since the moment we’ve met.” Lila continued. “I am a liar. Always have been. I am a horrible lying liar who lied about everyone I ever claimed to know and everything I ever said I did just to get you all to admire me because it was easier to manipulate you that way and get you to do things I wanted. From interviewing me for the Ladyblog to carrying my lunch tray to buying me things. I lied about having tinnitus just to get to sit next to Adrien and lied about not being interested in him to manipulate Nino into guilting him into letting me come to his house. Ladybug herself even called me out for lying. And when Marinette got upset that day I came back over the seat change? I threatened her in the bathroom because she was wise to me from the very start.”

A few stares were sent Marinette’s way. She didn’t have any explanation for them though. She was just as surprised as they were. More, even.

Lila shrugged. “Everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done. All lies. Ever.”

Everyone gaped in shock. Nobody even really knew what to say.

Marinette started. “But why—”

“Because that was Hell, Marinette. HELL. The bad place you go to after you die, reserved for bad people. And until today, I didn’t even think it was real. Or that there could be a chance I could end up there. But I imagine if anything would warrant that, it’d be lying, manipulating, and trying to get revenge on a superhero.”

Nino blinked. “Wait…what was that last one—”

As if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Lila sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join a convent to try and save my soul now that I know I have one.”

With that, she promptly exited the room, leaving the group staring after her in complete bewilderment.

Alya gaped. “...what?”

_________

Epilogue:

Marinette completed her commission to the demon and later for Moxie. Her fame increased in both realms and she eventually did open up her own design house. The only issue came in the customers who wanted to pay her by removing her competition, which she was mostly able to prevent until IMP took a hit on Gabriel Agreste. While Marinette did stop the attempted murder, this did still reveal his secondary identity of Hawk Moth, allowing the Butterfly and Peacock to be recovered and peace to return to Paris.

The classmates were shocked at the reveal of Lila’s true nature, but were more bewildered than anything given how it happened. They did all feel foolish and embarrassed for trusting Lila, but considering what could have happened, they all chose to take it as a life lesson to be more cautious in the future. They all remained friends and moved on to live quite fulfilling lives.

IMP formed a contract with MDC and gained a secondary job of delivery service as well as assassins, which increased their profits.

And Millie loved her new dress.

Lila Rossi convinced her mother to send her to a convent, where she became one of the most pious and devout members, spreading the message of being good in life more than any other.

#ml fic #ml crossover #marinette dupain cheng #Lila sucks #lila redemption #helluva boss

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mashedpotittiess · 4 years ago

Text

Games of Tomorrow

Header created by my muse and bb R. Title: Games of Tomorrow. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader. Mentions of: Hoseok, Jin, Subin (Victon) and OC’s Summary: A simple game of beer pong stirred up some not so innocent feelings between you and the man you held much disdain for. After all, he was your enemy. The person you couldn’t seem beat when it came to grades. You were never enough for the rich and popular but maybe just maybe you’d show them what you were all about. Words: 13k Rating: M Genre: Enemies to Lovers!au, College au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

This was all inspired by this photo which I just edited (color, background and the text)so all original photo credits go to the owner.

A/N: What started as a simple short drabble ended in this much longer than intended fic. This is my first pic so pls be gentle. I am but a noob to tumblr writing. I hope you enjoy this craziness <3 this fic is dedicated to my friend who picked Tae to be the first character I wrote about and sat there and listened to me freaking out cause the fic kept getting longer. Ily R. This is Un-Edited so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. I’ll re-read it and fix mistakes as i come across them. Tags/Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Jealousy, Drinking, Mention of Marijuana, Oral (female receiving) Fingering (female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) Fluff, Angst, Size kink, Tae mentioning his DIG BICK, semi rough sex (not really though).

Fic inspired Playlist Link:

spotify:playlist:77Hd51hVnDHe8Q9JaLxGbD

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

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“Absolutely not” you said calmly into the cellphone receiver. “But y/n! You need to let loose once in awhile, and no I’m not talking about sitting on your couch eating bowls of Ramen and cheese popcorn while watching re-runs of Boy Meets World with a big glass of too much Whiskey” Layla practically whined. She had been trying to convince you to go with her to Seokjin’s party on Saturday for an entire hour. She was right, you knew this coming weekend you’d be plopped onto that same blue couch in your big band t-shirt and fuzzy socks doing exactly that. “I’ll think about it” you finally mumbled out and could practically hear the smile in your best friends voice as she exclaimed a ‘woot woot’ “Okay Hot Stuff, i’ll text you later, gotta get to Volleyball Practice” with that she hung up and you continued your walk to what you’d call a ‘Headache’ of a class. It’s not that you hated Econ per say, it’s that you studied your ass off, completed extra credit assignments with a flourish and took wonderfully color coded notes (if you say so yourself). But yet, HE still scored higher than you (even if it was just by one point) and what’s worse is that he NEVER seemed to study, never seemed to care. Trudging into class you took your usual seat in the second row close to the middle. Organizing your laptop, books and assortment of pencils and pens on the table. As Professor Carmine began his lesson writing “Principles of Economics” onto the whiteboard with his usual navy blue marker, you diligently took notes and nodded along with his rhetorical questions. “Before we end for today lets see who can answer this simple yet intriguing question, “Would you consider Inflation or Deflation of cost cycles to be more costly to a business?” You pondered on how to word your answer for about two seconds before raising your hand. “Yes Ms. Y/L/N” you shifted in your seat slightly. “While I know this question has no definite answer as it can be interpreted many ways, I would say with our current Economy, Inflation of prices would be more costly,” Before you could continue you heard a Deep Baritone voice that you knew too well scoff. “So you think Deflation would benefit a business? that’s essentially lowering your prices which in turn leads to loss of income” You rolled your eyes nonchalantly and turned around in your seat to look at the man in the fourth row who had not only interrupted you but disagreed and voiced his disagreement. “I said with our current economy Inflation could hurt a business. Do you think regular people can afford to buy a $3,000 purse when they make minimum wage? It could cost a company to make said purse for $200 with cost of material and labor. If you lower those prices by a fraction, said company would still be making money and you could possibly have more demand as more people with regular paying jobs can afford you buy said purse. If you higher the price less regular people can afford such a luxury item which could hurt the demand. Thus causing an issue with the income for a business”. You said staring at the red haired man pulling a cock of his right eyebrow from him. “Regular people don’t need a $3,000 bag, you want brands to lower the prices so poor people can buy their items? How sad. Tae is right, just higher the prices and get more money. Businesses will make their money regardless of the lower or middle class purchasing their items, as long as they have people like us,” a high pitched voice you recognized as Nami said gesturing to herself and the perfect barbies next to her “buying from them”. Before you continue the alarm from your Professors phone startled you and signaled the end of not only your Monday class but your discussion as well. You picked up your items, shoving them in your bag and trudged out of class. As you passed Taehyung with Nami, Michelle, Hoseok and Gigi at his back he smirked at you and you swore you heard Nami giggling ‘Bet she’s never even held a Chanel bag in her hands. she just wants everybody to be ratchet like people like her’. Smiling to yourself you turned around and flipped them the bird “At least I don’t have to go crying to daddy to buy me a new set of tits, I make my own money and work hard for it. Something you wouldn’t know a thing about, and THAT is what I find sad about your entailed fake ass”. your voice carrying through the hall as you turned back around and made your way back to your dorm. ——————————————— “You know what day it is? TACO Tuesday” You exclaimed while taking a shot of Jose Cuervo and stirring your meat to ensure its cooked properly. Your roommate Casey giggled and Layla downed a shot with you while blasting a Pitbull song. After plating your dinner of carne picada tacos topped with all your usual veggies and homemade Salsa you smiled while your friends posted pics to their instas, Captioning “BB y/n made us food”. “I still can’t believe you told Nami her tits were fake” Casey giggled while shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “y/n said her tits and her ass were fake” Layla corrected and you smiled at your dorky friends. “She deserved it, nothing I said wasn’t true. You all were sprawled out on the couch pilled high with fluffy blankets watching a random episode of The Nanny and laughing at random jokes Layla said while scrolling through her Insta feed. “OOOOOOh Valeria is getting ice cream with Subin” Casey practically pouted at the post and you sighed knowing your roommates crush on Valeria which did not go unseen by Layla, causing a metaphorical lightbulb to go off in her head. “You know Casey, Valeria is going to be at Jin’s party on Saturday” Casey being held buzzed sat up catching the bait and worried her bottom lip “Is she?” Layla nodded “This could be your chance to get a fistful of all that Latina, metaphorically and not so metaphorically” she crudely added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you literally face palmed at your best friends words. Instead of being equally gassed out, Casey however downed her coke and stood up triumphantly “It’s time I tell her!” Layla stood up with her screaming a loud ‘yaaaaas queen’ and both pairs of eyes looked towards you sitting their nursing your Sprite. “What?” you questioned and immediately regretted when both girls practically jumped on you, squishing you between their bodies. “I can’t confess without knowing you and Layla are both there” Casey pouted her soft pink colored lips causing you to shake your head. “You do not need me there while you confess to your crush.” “But what if it goes bad? what if she rejects me, or worse; makes fun of me? What if i need to leave and I’m crying and I have snot everywhere an-“ Before she could continue you sighed and covered her mouth with your right hand. Nodding you stood up and smiled at both girls “Fuck it, Let’s get your Girl!” you knew Casey had liked her for literally an entire year and you knew you’d feel like shit if you weren’t there supporting your friend as she bared her heart. “I’m only doing this for you though, so know that I love you.” ——————————————— While the rest of the week you were dreading the party Saturday knowing Nami, Taehyung and the other were going to be there, it was Thursday night that was the straw that broke the Camels back. You had just finished returning your copy of Ulysses when you passed Nami practically hanging on the redhead talking about her Angel costume for Seokjins party. Rolling your eyes as you passed you stopped as you heard her ask “What are you rolling your eyes about? This is a private conversation” she flipped her hair over her left shoulder and you yet again rolled your eyes. “This is a public hallway, which means anything you say that can be heard by others can in fact get a response be it verbal or physical by someone other than the intended person in the conversation.” You were just about to turn around when she hmmphed “Whatever, mind your own business” turning around you were met with Layla jogging towards you. “Hot Stuff, what are we going to wear to the party? I’m thinking Doja Cat from the ‘Juicy’ MV, omg you should be -“ Before your best friend could continue, Nami stepped towards you with her arms crossed. “And how did someone like you, get an invitation?” punctuating the ‘you’ she pointed at you. “Jin and I are both on the Volleyball team” Layla stated and turned towards you “And he said I can bring whoever I wanted.” “I still don’t know why you hang around people like her” she once again pointed to you with her baby pink manicured index finger. You knew Layla had money and could very well fit in with their group. You sometimes felt like you were her downfall, the anchor to her social climb. But she always reassured you that she hated people like Nami and never understood why out of everyone, she hated you in particular for the passed two years. “Maybe because she’s my BEST friend, whoever gets invited to the party doesn’t involve you Nami. It’s JINS party, not yours.” Layla shook her head and you bit your bottom lip while curling your fists at your sides trying to calm yourself down.”Maybe she should be Donkey from Shrek, or maybe an edgy emo kid from 2010 with her ugly tattoos” Nami smirked and you heard Taehyung ‘who was scrolling on his phone let out a light laugh, his deep baritone further fueling Nami’s ego. “Have you ever even been to a party? like have you ever even left you dorm for something other than classes and your jobs” she sneered at the words jobs. “You should just reconsider coming, people like YOU don’t belong. People like YOU really should know your place” Your jaw visibly ticked “Seems like you have an obsession with anything my best friend does, is this like you having a big lesbian crush on her?” Layla said while placing a hand on your shoulder and doing her best Janice from Mean Girls impression. Before Nami could say anything back Taehyung nodded out a “Guess we will see you there then, bye Layla, bye y/n” turning to leave. Nami rolled her eyes and checked her phone “Not like it’ll matter what you wear, wait, OMG you should soo wear a ghost costume, it would suit you. Get it? cause you’ll be invisible and you don’t belong” then turned around, her yellow heels clacking against the tile as she following Taehyung down the hall cackling. “I still don’t know why she’s always hated you of all people? like it’s been two years of the same thing with her. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t hit her. I’ve seen you fight” She smiled and grabbed your hand, holding it while you all made your way down the hall, which made you smile and let out a small giggle at her comment about you fighting. She knew about your childhood and how you practically lived at you neighbors boxing gym to let off steam as a stress reliever. You had agreed to find a suitable costume as rage filled you from Navi’s moments and Taehyung’s lack of interest in the matter. (not that you would’ve expected much from him)

As you scanned the rows of costumes hung on the wall neatly you waited by the changing room while Layla and Casey tried on their costumes. “I think i’ll just go with this one” Casey smiled softly while twirling in her peter pan costume, her blond bob swishing lightly. “It’s so cute!” you hugged her and turned to see Layla emerging with a shake of her head “This isn’t giving me enough Doja Vibes”. You let out a hmm and pulled the pink/red mid length wig from your left and threw her a pair of red tights telling her to go put those on while you scoured the items on the racks. Layla finally emerged from the dressing room after you finished giving her the scattered pieces you had found. Clutching the green watermelon rind skirt, she twirled around in the same manor Casey did earlier and shook her pinky/red bandeau covered chest at you. After tightening the green suspenders that were connected to the skirt she smirked “Now it’s your turn Babe, and Casey and i are paying” before you could interrupt her she continues “not buts! You agreed to find a costume” Shaking your head you said a chorus of “No’s” vehemently at every option she held in front of you. “Y/n you need something to accentuate how hot you are! make her eat her words” you huffed and shook your head “Naughty Nerd is not the way to go Nami” Hanging the customer back on the rack she mumbled a “she said nerd so i figured hot nerd would be well, hot”. You grabbed a simple Witch costume that consisted of a mid length purple dress and a black hat with matching stockings, something low key but still a costume. Before you could go pay for it Layla grabbed your hand and stopped you. “No, y/n that isn’t enough, plays were paying” she pointed to herself and Casey who nodded. “Layla I don’t want to draw anymore attention to myself, I don’t need to look “hot” cause I’m not. I’m just a regular person who isn’t enough for these people. I’ll never be or do enough” You look down at your right arm and traced the intricate patterns of your black and white peonies and hibiscus that lined your inner arm. Your friends had never seemed you look so vulnerable, and something in Layla snapped. “She called you invisible and said you weren’t enough but guess what? She knows all about you makes sure you’re always uncomfortable around them. Which means she sees you as a threat”. you bit your bottom lip at her words “She has called you ugly, ratchet ‘which who says that anymore, poor, insignificant and she made fun of you working your ass off to pay your tuition because your deadbeat parents can’t do shit for you. You’re the smartest person in class, you’ve got street smarts and fuck man, you can literally kick a grown mans ass. Remember when those guys were grabbing Casey at the club and you stood up for her and literally fought two of them and won? Little miss prissy bitch couldn’t stand a 5 secs with that y/n. I know you don’t bother with fighting her cause you’re afraid of her connections and getting kicked out of school but fuck y/n grow some balls” Snapping your head in her direction you walking up to her standing in her face and exclaimed “Firstly Taehyung is the smartest in my Econ class. Secondly, don’t you think I’m already aware of what she says about me? don’t you think i want to punch that stupid smile off her face full of fillers? You wan’t me to grow some balls? FUCKING FINE, but I’m not wearing a “sexy nerd costume.” Smirking and trailing your fingers along a row of costumes you looked at your friends. “I’ll show her just how hot I can be” Layla smirked at you “That’s my girl, so what do you have in mind then” You slid your fingers along what felt like vinyl. Cocking your right eyebrow up you gripped the material. “What’s hotter than the Devil?” ——————————————— Standing in front of your mirror in your bedroom you were already regretting your choice in outfits for tonight. As you stared at yourself you reminded yourself why you were doing this. You were going to prove a point and that was all that mattered. you were going to prove you weren’t any of the negative things Nami said about you. Running your hands down the scrappy vinyl like material that was covering your chest and part of your upper body. Your hands stopped above your navel where the top stopped and you cocked your hip to the side, descending your hands further down your bare skin to the top of the matching vinyl like skin tight pants that resembled shiny black liquid covering your skin leaving little to the imagination. You plopped yourself in front of your desk to the makeshift vanity that was full of makeup products for the nights preparations. Curling the ends of your hair you laughed as Layla pranced around shimmying to Nasty by Brooke Candy. “Don’t trust that hoe he N A S T Y” you all yelled the lyrics. Finishing your Deep Burgundy and black smokey eye, you applied a sharp winged eyeliner and smoked out the lower lash line. Applying small round black jewels under your eyes you finished the look with a deep burgundy matte lipstick, fluffy lashes and a soft pink toned blinding highlighter. “We have like 5 minutes, get your asses in gear” Layla announced as you were tying your simple black leather choker around your neck. After zipping up your over the knee 5 inch stiletto vinyl black boots, you placed your black horned headband on your head securing the little clips in your hair and primped the strands around your face to frame sexily. The ride there was filled with bopping to music and Layla yelling that you were a bad bitch out of the windows for all of the campus to hear which caused you to yell as the Uber driver. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and holding Layla and Caseys hands, you walked the short distance of the walkway to Seokjin’s Lavish off campus Townhome. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with the sound of loud bass thumping greeted you as Layla pushed open the door. Walking through a sea of bodies you felt several pairs of eyes on you and you had to remind yourself it was fine. Settling yourselves in the kitchen, you started to make you all some drinks while Casey looked out for Valeria and Layla handed you cups and bottles. You decided simple Margaritas on the rocks were safe for the night and handed them to your friends. A tall and beautiful man you knew as Seokjin himself walked in and greeted you all, making sure to give Layla a hug to which you noticed her little blush creeping down her neck. “I’m glad you all could make it! Layla are you Doja Cat? omg Casey you’re Peter Pan! y/n are you the devil? oooooh are those Margs I see?” SeokJin asked which you nodded and asked if he wanted one as well. “Yes please! I suck at making drinks, oh and please just call me Jin” Smiling you stirred the mixture into a clear cup and handed it to him earning a dazzling smile. As he took a sip, Jin pressed his right hand to his chest over his heart “You NEED to come to all of my parties and make me drinks. This is so delicious” As he mimicked the chefs kiss signal you laughed and Layla beamed a smile at him. “Y/n works as a bartender part time at Nely’s next to campus” You nodded and sipped you drink while surveying the beautiful white marble kitchen and chrome accents. “You have a beautiful Home Jin” you smiled to him which made him softly pat you on the back “Thank you! I take pride in my kitchen. It’s where I blow off steam from Volleyball practice” Layla shook her head “You need to blow off steam? you practically don’t even sweat while we run plays” to which Jin scoffed “We all need to blow off steam Layla” You and Casey watched as both people seemed really comfortable with being around each other. You noticed Layla blush and Jin smile every time their eyes met. “Oh you’re here” said a shrill voice you knew none other than Nami herself, dressed in a fluffy white see thru robe, white satin dress that barely covered her butt, knee high white vinyl go-go boots, white lace stockings and sitting atop her head a thin gold halo attached to a headband. Next to you Layla smiled and placed her hand on her hip “Yeah, we said we would be here so here we are” you heard the brattiness in her voice and giggled when you notice Jin staring at her hips. “Ew, don’t stay too long” Nami said while walking out. Jin shook his head which prompted Layla to ask why he had invited Nami. “Well our families are friends and my roommates are friends with her” You cocked an eyebrow” You have roommates?” Before Jin could answer you heard a deep baritone laugh getting closer, turning your head to the side you saw Taehyung accompanied by Hoseok walking into the safe haven of the kitchen. “Tae, Hoseok, come meet Layla and her friends Casey and y/n!” Jin smiled “These are my roommates” As the men stepped closer you tried your best to cover the shocked look on your face. “HEY we have two devils!” Hoseok yelled out and smirked. Taehyungs hair was parted down the middle and some of his fringe was swept up into two red ‘horns’ he donned black skin tight vinyl pants, red shiny shoes that looked a lot like Gucci Mules, a sequined Blazer with only one button down right above his navel that accentuated his chest as he decided to forgo a shirt and a thing black choker similar to yours but tied in a small bow sitting in the hollow of his throat. Feeling his eyes roaming over your body and landing on you horns you busied yourself by chugging your drink and earned a holler from Hoseok. “Hey y/n can party!” Before anything else could be said, Casey spotted Valeria who was waving at you all to join her in the living room. Throwing your cup in the trash you followed Casey out of the now suffocating kitchen and tried to hide your expression as your eyes met the Red Devil while you slid passed him. “Hey girls!” Valeria smiled and hugged you both causing Casey to blush. Layla had stayed in the kitchen talking to Jin which made you smirk knowingly. “This is Subin” the man next to her looked up from his phone and sent a side your way, you noticed his costume as a werewolf from the looks of his tattered ripped shirt and what looked like a gnarly bite mark on his collarbone. “Hi I’m y/n and this is Casey” Casey narrowed her eyes at the man and how close he was standing to Valeria mumbling out a ‘I know who Subin is’. As you four talked you noticed Valeria standing closer and closer to Casey while laughing at some inside joke they shared. Before you knew it Valeria had swung an arm around your friend and they shared a soft smile. You really hoped all went well for Casey, if not, you might have to kick some ass. While you were thinking of the cuteness overload that Casey and Valeria together could be you heard a shuffle from your right “you look nice when you smile” Subin smiled at you and you felt the pink tint forming on your cheeks. As Casey pulled Valeria with her outside for some “fresh air” which you knew as go time. You decided to get straight to it and ask Subin himself “Are you and Valeria a thing?” choking on his drink he coughed out a loud ‘no no no no’ and you cocked an eyebrow. “Val and I are just friends, plus she’s not really into someone like me like that?.” “Someone like you?” Nodding Subin smiled knowingly and looked towards the door both girls had just slipped through. “As in she like boobs, your friends boobs to be exact.” Your eyes widened “Wait no! not her boobs, she liked your friend in general i was just saying boobs to accentuate how Val wouldn’t like me anatomically.” You giggled at how flushed he had gotten and he smiled along with you. You hadn’t noticed a pair of eyes staring as you talking to the man dressed as a werewolf. Hoseok noticed the look in his friends eyes, it was the same one Taehyung had gotten anytime you rolled your eyes at him, ignored his presence or had gotten in a heated debate. He had been sporting that look every time he looked at you for a little over two years now. Since your first year of college when you had shared a Psych class and battled for top spot in class. He knew his friend had taken an interest in you and it never dissipated. Taehyung sipped his beer and kept his eyes glued to your face while you smiled and laughed at something the man next to you had said. Hoseok was tired of nothing coming from this and slammed his beer down hopping onto the coffee table earning a ‘that wasn’t cheap get down!’ from Jin “It’s beer pong time!” Hopping off the table he stood in front of you in all of his Napoleon Dynamite Glory. “Y/n come play beer pong” he smiled at you and you could help but notice how beautiful Hoseoks smile was. Shaking your head “I don’t think i’ll be playing tonight Hoseok but than-“ Nami cackled at you from her band of barbies and interrupted “ Hope, don’t waste your time with her she isn’t worth it. Plus she probably can’t even play, she’s never even been to a party before.” Thats what caused you to roll your eyes and place your hand into Hoses outstretched one. “I’ll play”. You and Subin followed Hoseok to the side of the living room where a few beer pong tables were already set up. Layla and Jin had joined you as well, intrigued to see you playing. “Okay teams of two. Usual rules of no leaning over the table, must drink your drink if a ball is sunk, one re-rack per person on each team, and if a trick shot made with one hand behind your back and a foot away from the table is sunk by the opposing team they may make a request that you have to complete. Said request can’t be anything illegal or THAAAT bad. “Can I take a shot instead of drinking a beer? I don’t really do well with beer” you asked honestly which cause Hoseok to holler “Fuck yeah!” Before you could pick a teammate Hoseok smiled and pulled Taehyung over “We have to have the two Devil’s playing” You shrugged and asked Subin if he would be your partner to which he smiled an ‘of course’ which earned a cock of an eyebrow from Taehyung which Hoseok noticed and smirked. “I’d be on Tae’s team but I think to make it fair we should have another female” Nami walked over laying her hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked “I’ll play” you rolled your eyes and mumbled an ‘i’ll play’ mimicking her shrill voice which earned a chuckle from Subin. “Ooh an Angel and a Devil on the same team, how heaven and hell” Hoseok smirked and set up the cups handing each team their set of ping pong balls. Layla and Jin brought you a bottle of tequila (your eyebrows shot up when you noticed it was ‘Gran Patron’ and then you remembered these people are well off. You had made the marg’s with a different bottle of Patron which while not cheap wasn’t as expensive as this particular bottle was) and shot glasses to replace the typical drink of beer if a ball is sunk. Beer really didn’t sit well with your stomach, you assumed it was the carbonation. “Layla you do know this is like a $500 bottle of alcohol right?” Layla smirked and Jin smiled responding “I don’t really drink Tequila unless it’s in a marg and my uncle left this bottle here from his last stay, as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” You opened the bottle letting the smell of Agave fill your senses and re capped it. “Ready?” Hoseok asked to which both teams agreed. Taehyungs team started to which Nami missed her shot, the next shot was Subins and he sunk it, picking her to chug what looked like some sort of fruity cider. Taehyung was next and he lined up his shot before seemingly sinking it before he looked up “Subin drinks” he said smoothly and Subin drank what was left in his cup. You were up next, carefully lining up your shot you watched as the ball plopped right into the cup and looked at the duo in from of you. “Nami drinks” Nami rolled her eyes “Ughh again??” she exclaimed and you smirked “What? can’t keep up?” you asked to which she grumbled and drank what looked like another cider. Nami sunk her next shot and picked you to drink, as you poured the liquid into your shot glass you smirked right at her while downing the shot like it was water. Unknown to you, a pair of dark eyes watched as you licked your lips while placing the glass down. The game continued with each of the teams missing and sinking shots until you won the game, hugging Subin you both had only had around 3 drinks each and decimated the other team. Taehyung called for another game as in 2/3 wins to win the full game. You had surprisingly agreed but only because Nami wouldn’t shut the fuck up with her little snide comments and you loved the look on her face every time she missed or you sunk her shot. The second game continued until there were only 4 cups left on your end and 3 on the opposing team. You and Subin hugged each other after your last shot that nailed Nami yet again and she held her stomach calling celebrity shot which basically called Hoseok into the game to replace her. You were 5 shots in and feeling light, not nearly drunk but nicely buzzing as you could hold your liquor well. Stepping in Hoseok smirked “Imma flip things up, If i sink this shot ya’ll gotta do my request” Folding his left arm around his back he took a few steps away from the table and focused on nailing the center shot, and to your surprise he actually did nail it. “Hmm little devil, I request that you take a shot” Your eyebrows shot up as that sounded easy enough. “Oh dear, not a normal shot. I’m talking about a body shot, your partner needs to lay on the table and you have to follow all body shot steps down to the lime in his mouth.” Rolling your eyes you turned to Subin to ask if it was okay with him. Your buzzing partner agreed and insisted after you asked if he was sure. Laying his body down on the table with the crown of his head facing Hoseok and Teahyung. He lifted his shirt up to his chest so that you could sprinkle salt from his navel up to his chest. Filling the shot glass, you placed it above his belly button and gave him the lime wedge to slip between his lips. Taehyung gritted his tech as you climbed onto the white table situating yourself above Subins lap. People who were watching the game from afar gathered closer to watch as you once again asked Subin if it was okay and he smiled a yes. Leaning down you tentatively dragged your tongue from his belly button up to his chest licking up the salt, then dipped back down to his belly button and wrapped your lips around the shot glass leaning up and getting the liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. You crawled up his body and carefully took the lime from his mouth, making sure to dig into the flesh of the lime and not actually touch his mouth. After all, you just met him and didn’t want him to think you were taking advantage of anything. Throwing the wedge into a discarded cup you hopped off of the table and handed Subin a napkin to wipe the remnants of salt and tequila off of his body. “Can we get on with the game?” Taehyung grumbled and you rolled your eyes nodding. Subin sunk his next shot and Hoseok took a shot of Tequila instead of chugging a beer. It was now 3 to 2 and Taehyung missed his next shot, too focused on the way you were fanning your hand over the back of your next from the warmth the liquor was giving you. It was your turn and you sunk your next shot causing Taehyung to chug the beer Jin handed to him. Hoseok smiled and once again moved his left arm around his back “Might as well make it interesting, another request for another trick shot” you rolled your eyes and smiled at the brunette as he wagged his eyebrows and closed his eyes. You truly did not think he would sink another trick shot, let along with his eyes closed. But as you watched the ball sink into one of your cups your eyes went wide. You heard hollers and screams hyping up the shot that Hoseok had just made and mentally readied yourself for another body shot. “If you’re thinking I’m going to have you do the same thing, you’re wrong” Your eyebrows furrowed and he smirked “It’s Subins turn to take a body shot” Taehyung let out a deep warning “Hoseok, don’t” You didn’t understand why he would have a problem with it but you turned around to look at Subin to ask if he was once again okay with such a thing. He nodded and in turn asked if you were okay. Smiling you handed him a shot glass. After you situated yourself the same way Subin had, you saw him falter on where to put the salt since your top stopped right above your navel, and you grabbed the bottle of salt from his hand and placed a trail from your collarbone up your next. You figured it was safer than your cleavage. Subin handed you the lime wedge and you softly bit into it watching him fill the shot glass and place it above your belly button. Layla looked down at you and smiled as she saw you getting chorus of “Fuck yeah y/n” which had made Nami who was sitting down roll her eyes. Climbing into your body and leaning down, Subin let his tongue drag along your collarbone to your neck slowly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around the shot glass in the same way you had done to him and leaned up to gulp it down. Leaning down once again he was about to take the lime wedge from your mouth when a hand n his shoulder stopped him. Before you could ask what was going on you saw a strand of red and felt a pair of lips on yours pulling the lime away. Taehyung had had enough, he was tired of seeing you with Subin and even more tired of the games Hoseok was playing. When he watched Subin lean down to your mouth he couldn’t take it anymore and his body reacted on it’s own. Doing what it had been wanting to do for years. You watched as Taehyung spit out the lime wedge a leaned back down to capture your lips in his in an upside down kiss. A chorus of oohs and oh shits followed which caused you to push him off and jump off of the table. You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around your body “What the fuck Taehyung?” you asked but before anybody could answer you, you asked Jin where the bathroom was to which he pointed out and you ran there hearing a “wait” being yelled but you didn’t care you needed to get out of there. You were being watched by everybody and that accompanied with the kiss from someone you thought you hated and assumed he hated you as well, well that was too much. Walking into the first floor bathroom you slammed the door and made your way to the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror then looked down, bracing your hands on either side of the sink trying to calm yourself down. You could hear the bass thumping, causing the walls to lightly vibrate. There was a loud knock on the door followed by a series of “y/n please please open the door.” Letting out a deep breath you ran your index finger along your lash line, wiping any excess makeup that had smudged during your beer pong game. Stepping towards the door you swung it open only to be greeted with your best friend flinging herself on your short frame despite the high heeled boots you donned. “Hi, I love you, and before you say it. I know you want to go home but please don’t let those people get to you. So what if Tae kissed you? Don’t even acknowledge that ass wipe, and omg you should’ve seen Navi’s face when he kissed you. She legit looked like she was going to blow up like some sort of doll filled with helium!” Layla placed her hands on either side of you, softly gripping your shoulders, her deep brown eyes staring into yours softly. “Hey, talk to me? If you really do want to go home, i’ll go with you. But I really think you shouldn’t let anything that just happened get you down. Let’s just go back to the living room and dance all these feelings away! You’ve got me, Jin, Subin and Casey and Val ‘not that i know where they are.” While she rambled on you took in your surroundings, noting the pristine glass shower situated in the corner followed by the chrome towel rack that supported plush light grey towels. The porcelain toilet stood across from it, tucked into a corner of the light grey walls that matched the towels. As she finished her speech you already knew what you had to do, you weren’t going to let this get you down. You were so fucking tired of letting people get to you, you had no control over your life growing up but you sure as hell had control over your current self. You had amazing friends, were incredibly intelligent, worked your ass off at both of your jobs and were happy with the way you looked. Quirking up the left corner of your mouth you leaned in and planted a big smooch on your besties left cheek. “Layla, you’re right” Surprise crossed your best friends face, followed by a knowing smirk. “That’s my best bitch! Let’s get our asses down there and show them what a bad bitch you are, not that you haven’t already. I mean, dude you totes slammed like 6 shots no problem and you look HOT AS HELL.” Giggling you took her arm into yours and let her take you down the hallway into the crowded living area. The LED lights lit a soft purple hue that bounced off of the cream colored walls, further creating that fantasy look that enticed party goers to let all their inhibitions go. You noticed someone had moved the coffee table to a far corner closer to the beer pong tables, which had expanded the makeshift dance floor. The DJ was bopping his head to the current track he was mixing and the sea of bodies moving themselves to the beat was massive. You clutched Layla’s hand in yours as she pushed her way through the dancers and you all finally settled closer to one of the couches that had been pushed to a corner opposite of the tables where Jin, Subin and Hoseok had been waiting for you two. Jin placed a hand on your shoulder as if you check if you were alright and you smiled while nodding. “I’m so so sorry y/n, are you okay?” Subin asked and searched your face for an answer. Smiling at the man who had been your partner in crime for the passed hour, you nodded. “It’s all good, no need to be sorry. I do need another drink though. I think that little stint in the bathroom may have sobered be up more than i’m happy about. Hoseok smiled and shouted a ‘Gotchu’ before he bounded back off to the kitchen mixing up some concoction you knew would be strong. “Theres seems to be a lot more dancing than before” you jutted your chin towards the sea of bodies and Jin laughed. “I think most people are in that drunks haze where dancing is all they can do since they can’t seem to stand straight.” You chucked softly as you knew all too well how dancing enticed drunk people. The brunette thrusted a clear cup into your hands, quirking an eyebrow at him he responded with a chuckle. “It’s just bourbon on the rocks” Testing the liquid in the cup you smiled confirming it was in fact bourbon and nothing gross. You spotted Nami hanging herself on Taehyung in the corner towards the tables, your eyes met as she looked back at you with what looked like rage. Leaning her body upwards she leaned in towards his right ear and appeared to be whispering something to which he shook his head while staring into his glass. This seemed to upset her, huffing she once again leaned back up and attached you pink gloss covered lip to his neck. For some reason this had annoyed you to no end. For years Nami had been al over the tall man, only to be semi rejected with her advances which had brought you an odd sense of joy and seeing her lips on his neck as he just stood there caused you to rip your gaze away fro the pair and bring your cup up to your still burgundy tinted lips as the lipstick had faded away and left you with a just bitten look. Leaning you head back you downed the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the nearby end table that was situated by the couch. “Let’s dance?” you handed Jin your purse pulling Layla to the dance floor with you, not needing an answer to your question. As you both pushed through to the middle of the grinding crowd you best friend leaned in to your ear letting you know she’d be right back. Before you could ask what she was doing you saw her watermelon headband bounding up to the DJ who nodded when she leaned in close to him. As the first notes of the beat started you couldn’t help the smirk that planted itself on your lips. You giggled as Layla shimmied her way towards you and the first lines of the song began. Letting your body sway to the music, Layla laid her hands on your hips. “That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch. Got her own money.” You both sang as you moved your hips in her hands. Placing both of your hands on her shoulders you turned her around and pulled her back close to your chest. Jin had been staring at your friend’s hips swaying along with yours and you decided you wanted to put on a show for him. Running your hands up her tight covered thighs up to her waist she leaned forward and gave her ass a little twerk causing you to chuckle. Turning her body around she gripped your hand in hers and spun you around, you made sure to wiggle your hips as you spun. “She been down since the jellies and the bow-bows” you shimmied your hips and saw Casey and Val bounding their way towards you two. As they got closer you noticed Caseys Peter Pan hat had gone missing and Vals pink lipstick was smudged, both girls walking hand in hand. Throwing Casey a knowing smirk she shrugged lightly and Layla wrapped her arms around both girls, creating a circle. “Where have you BEEN?” Layla yelled over the music at the two but shook her head after taking in their appearances “Nevermind I don’t want to know, wait, or do I?” wiggling her eyebrows she smoothed down Caseys wild blonde bob. Val seemed to enjoy the blush that had formed on Caseys cheek and she leaned close to place a kiss on either cheek, further fueling the crimson on her cheeks. As the intro to Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha came into play you all raised your hands up into the air and swayed to the beat. Hoseok came into view, thrusting a shot into each of your friends hands and you all posed for his snapchat video while downing the shots of what tasted like whiskey. “Gross, I don’t know how you like liquor” Casey said, her cute face scrunching up into a sour expression and you giggled. Leaning down you touched your toes and twerked your ass to the beat earning a “fuck it up” from Layla and Val. As you ground your hips back into your best friend you looked up catching Taehyungs burning gaze on your flushed face. Cocking an eyebrow up at him you turned around in Layla’s hold swaying your hips. “Ugh, prissy bitch incoming” Layla whispered into your ear and you followed her eyes to Nami who pulled Michelle and a bored looking Taehyung onto the dance floor. Your eyes followed Navi’s movements as they slid up and down the devils chest and Michelle settled her hands on his shoulders behind him. Your jaw tensed as Nami’s hands trailed up to his neck. Meeting his dark gaze you narrowed your eyes slightly and shook your head, turning around and grabbing Hoseoks hands pulling him closer to you. The LED lights turned a deep red hue as the opening to Streets - Silhouette remix started and Val exclaimed “Let me put this on insta, y/n your horns loom so good in this light!” Posing with your back towards Hoseoks with your head leaning onto his shoulder, the latter gripped your hips and leaned his face into your neck while Val took the picture. As the tune changed and the beat dropped with it’s intoxicatingly slow beat you swayed your hips against Hoseoks, bending your knees and slowly sliding up and down his body. Trailing his fingers up your sides he grilled your hips and turned you around to face him. You heard Layla lean into Casey saying something along the lines of ‘oh shit’. ‘I found it hard to find someone like you’ you slid your body down the Brunettes, never leaving his gaze ‘send your location come thru’. Leaning back up you rolled your head around and he wrapped a hand into your hair, his other gripping your right hip tighter. your hands settled themself on his shoulders and you leaned towards his left, your eyes catching onto Taehyungs dark gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as Hoseok ground his hips into yours. Even as Nami wiggled her hips in front of his and trailed her hands under his blazer, his arms stayed at his sides, never touching the Angel nor the Bunny who still danced her body against his back. Hoseok knew his friend was watching and he couldn’t help but smirk, gripping your hair tighter he moved your face towards him and pulled you in until you were a few centimeters from his lips as he moved your hips along with his. ‘We belong and I can’t be without you’ Doja’s voice crooned through the speakers as Hoseok leaned in closer to your lips over the hazey cloud of smoke and tightly packed bodies. You internally debated wether or not you truly wanted him to close that gap and land his lips on yours, but the only thing you could think of was the gaze of a certain someone on yours. Before you fully decided on if you wanted the man in front of you to kiss you, your body was pulled away from his. A strong grip was formed around your wrist and all you registered was Layla and Casey wide eyes before you were being pulled away from the dancing bodies and up the stairs. You barely registered the click of a door being opened followed by your back hitting the hard wood. “What the hell were you doing?” Taehyung rasped out staring deeply into your eyes with a mixture of what looked like want and fury. You placed your hands on his chest pushing him back slightly and jutted your chin upwards. “Excuse me? I was dancing with my friends and Hoseok, not that that’s any of you business” Taking a step towards him. “What the hell do YOU think you’re doing? dragging me up to this room and thinking you can manhandle me.” Receiving no answer you shook your head and were prepared to turn around and walk right back out of that door. “You drive me fucking insane. Seeing that Subin guys hands all over you and then you dancing like that with my best friend.” You felt yourself being pressed against the door once again with his large hands on either side of your head, his rings glinting against the soft light filtering in through the open curtains. Cocking your eyebrow up at him you stood your ground. “What? are you Jealous?” you snorted out. “Yeah, yeah I fucking am” At his surprising answer you looked up seeing nothing but want in his deep eyes with a glint of something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re fucking insane. Don’t play with me” you rasped out, your voice hoarse from singing and dancing earlier. “I’m not playing” was all you heard before your head knocked back against the wooden frame of the door followed by a pair of plush lips crushing yours with a ferocity you suddenly craved. He tasted like cinnamon and liquor and you loved it. Something inside you both seemed to snap in that moment and you trailed one of your hands up, curling your fingers into his soft hair and tugging on the makeshift horns it was styled into. Your other hand settled itself onto his warm chest fingering the labels of his blazer. Taehyung growled out at you reciprocated the kiss and trailed his right hand down the door, settling on your hip and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Feeling teeth nibbling at your lower lip you gasped out and he took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. Tugging his hair harder you felt his hand that had been on your hip slide lower until it was gripping a handful of your ass cheek, followed by a grunt. You could still hear the music that was thumping downstairs but it was slowly being drowned out by the man in front of you. The plush pair of lips that was against yours slowly trailed down to your jaw, nipping at the flesh softly until they reached your neck. Nuzzling his face against your warm flesh as he littered the area with whisper soft kisses. Slipping your hand under his blazer you trailed your nails lightly along his skin earning a low hiss from his deep voice. Smirking, you dug you nails harder “You’re playing with fire babygirl” Taehyung gripped both of your hands into one of his large palms and pressed them against the door frame grinding his hips into yours. Feeling his length against your covered core you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Taehyung trailed his lips back to your neck and sucked on your pulse point causing you to arch your back. “Y/n i really don’t want to stop, but I need to know that you want this too” the man in front of you pulled back slightly while he waited for a response. Letting out a small ‘yes’ he leaned back down capturing you in another searing kiss. Flexing your wrists in an outwards circular motion you freed yourself from his grip and took a step forward placing your hands against his chest and effectively spinning him around so his back hit the door. Despite the height different even with your heels you kept your palms flat on his chest with your strength, keeping him against the door. Arching a dark brow up at you Taehyung smirked. “Not going to lie, that was pretty hot” you felt him grumble against your mouth as it attached itself to his tan neck. Sucking a few bruises against his flesh you felt his need growing against your stomach and you couldn’t help your involuntary clench of your thighs. His smell was intoxicating, a mixture of fresh linen, cinnamon and musk. You felt his hands trail up the backs of your thighs and grind the flesh under your ass, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. Leaving one more bite against his neck you complied and jumped up latching your legs around his sturdy hips. Walking you both backwards, Taehyung leaned you downwards until your back was hitting the large bed tucked against the wall. Arching your back towards him you pulled him onto your body by his shoulder and moaned into his mouth as he captured your lips in his. Biting down on your lower lip hard, Taehyung ground his hips down against yours. While his mouth felt incredible against yours you knew you wanted, no, needed more.“Need more” you whispered out causing his to chuckle against your lips and lean his body up. Smirking down at you he cocked his head to the side and trailed his index finger up your torso and chest. “Sorry love, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Rolling your eyes you reached up tugging his hair into your grip. “I said, I.Need.More” you said though gritted teeth at the knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” before you could retort you felt his mouth latch itself on your collarbone and his hands trailing down your legs, pulling the zippers to your boots down before tossing them on the floor somewhere. Trailing his hands behind your back he began trying to undo your top. “While these straps are hot, they aren’t fucking functional for shit. How the hell do I take this off?” Taehyung practically growled out causing a chuckle to leave your lips. Leaning up slightly you helped him unhook the main portion of the top and pull the strappy harness over your neck. Tossing the item he had been fumbling with to the side he couldn’t stop admiring your breasts covered only by your black lace bra. You shivered as he trailed his hands up your chest, his cold rings causing your nipples to perk up and a gasp to leave your mouth. Leaning his face down, Taehyung started trailing soft kisses along your chest downwards to your torso and back up. His hands were once again at your back, this time working fast successfully unhooking your bra. Looking into your eyes he hooked his fingers under the straps on your shoulder and slowly pulled down releasing your breasts from their confinement. Biting down on his lip he started at your perky nipples and full breasts. He had always loved your curves and didn’t ever think he’d get to see them this way. You felt his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples and gasped as his tongue lightly flicked against the hard pebble. Your hand in his hair pulled him closer to your chest and he smirked. He pinched your other nipple between his fingers which earned a low moan. His mouth being soft on one of your nipples and his fingers being rough on your other one caused an intoxicating juxtaposition and you couldn’t help the little whines that left your throat. Fiddling with your button and zipper, Taehyung successfully started to pull your pants down, leaning up and leaving your nipple with a loud pop of his mouth. Tugging to pull your pants off of your legs he hissed when he saw your core only covered by your thin lace panties. You heard your pants hit the floor in a loud thump and bit your lip in nervousness as you realized just how exposed you were in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man. “You’re fucking beautiful” He rasped out, trailing his eyes up your body and landing on your face. Before he could hike your legs open and upwards you spoke up “You have way too many articles of clothing on” Smirking he complied with your request and popped the single button holding his blazer together, sliding it down his shoulders and throwing it in a heap on the floor. You heard his shoes being kicked off as well before he leaned back down to resume his earlier ministrations. His large hands slid down the insides of your thighs and pulled them open to reveal your soaked panty covered core. You swore you head him let out a low whine but before you could comment on it you felt a warm pair of lips latch onto your clit through the fabric. Arching your back off of the bed you gripped his shoulder in your hand. Taehyung rubbed his index and middle finger along your slit and hooked themselves around the fabric pulling it to the side and exposing yourself to the cool air and his waiting mouth. Laying his left palm flat against your lower tummy he leaned in giving you a soft tentative lick to your slit. Biting your lip between your teeth you moaned out when he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked harshly. “F..Fuck” Hearing your moan he sucked against and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his other hand keeping your legs open. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub he loved the way you tasted and couldn’t get enough of it. If it was up to him he would do this all day every day. You ground your hips up into his mouth causing him to smirk against your cunt. “Needy” he growled out and trailed his fingers that had been on your thigh down to your slit, running the tip of his middle finger around your opening before sliding itself in to the knuckle. You brought your right fist to your mouth and bit down to keep yourself from moaning out. Slowly pumping his finger in and out, he watched as your finger disappeared into your wet heat taking him in so good. “Fuck you’re wet” Looking up into your eyes he saw you biting down onto your fist and stopped his ministrations “ If you want more I need to hear you babygirl” Muffling a ‘please’ you released your fist from your mouth and wove it into his hair. Pleased with your sounds he continued sliding his finger in and out of you, adding his index finger into your heat hissing at how tight you were. “Shit you’re tight, gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my big cock babygirl” Arching your back, you felt his press against your inner walls and curl his fingers causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulder and tug his hair harder with your other hand. Latching his mouth back onto your clit he lightly hummed which sent vibrations through your body. Whining with need you continued grinding your hips up onto his face and rolled your eyes closed. Taehyung looked up at you watching your fucked out expression and almost choked when he heard you whining his name. Working his tongue against your click he started to harshly pump his fingers into you before slowing down and inching his middle finger into your heat. You felt your cunt burning at the stretch but the look in his eyes caused another gush of arousal to seep out and coat his fingers further. “Jesus..fuck you’re so hot and you taste so fucking delicious” As he slowly pumped his fingers in and out you felt your stomach clenching, that familiar feeling on your realize building with each flick of his tongue against your clit. “Tae.. Tae i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” Sucking harshly he curled his fingers and pressed against your g spot “Cum babygirl, let me taste you before I slid my fat cock into your needy cunt” Rolling your eyes back you felt your legs start to shake as you gripped his hair almost painfully between your fingers. Your stomach tightened and you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Your breath becoming shallow as you let out a series of ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘omg omg’ your hand that had been on his shoulder came up to your chest as your pinched your nipple between your feelings and felt the metaphorical dam of your orgasm approaching. Taehyung sucked harshly before grazing his teeth lightly against your clit and your eyes shot open feeling your legs convulse and your toes curl. With a final whine you felt yourself cum all over his tongue which he licked up like a starved man. Breathing deeply you felt the sweat drip down your brow for your intense orgasm and when he stood your eyes followed down his torso gleaming with sweat and down to the prominent bulge in his pants. Biting your lip you caught him staring at your cunt that had just cum around his finger and he started to pull your beyond soaked panties down and off of your legs. Looking back up into your eyes he slipped each finger between his plums lips and licked them clean. Groaning at the action you felt yourself clench. “Think you can take more baby?” He smirked at you and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him against you and ground your soaking cunt against his covered length. “You’re getting me all dirty, fuck that’s hot” He growled out and slid his fingers down unbuckling his belt. Popping the button of his pants, he pulled the zipper down with your eyes following every movement. Sliding his pants down his thighs he kicked them off and hooked him thumbs into his black briefs. You couldn’t tell if you were really drooling but once his slid his fried down and his cock sprang free you knew me heard your very audible groan followed by a clench of your thighs. Sliding his hand along his shaft, he pumped his leaking length a few times and reached to the side opening a drawer and seemingly looking for a condom. Gripping his arm you shook your head “I’m on the pill, are you clean?” His eyes widened at the possibility of what you were saying and he nodded “I haven’t had sex in a few months and when I did I wore a condom, I also get checked every month if you want to see the results I have them on my pho-“ You cut him off by leaned up and kissing him. As you layed back down against the pillows you smiled up at him an he swore he felt his heart flutter and his cock pulsate. Hooking his right index finger under your thin leather choker he pulled you up and he ground his uncovered cock against your dripping pussy. “As much as I love these, they have to come off they’re barely hanging on your head. Not knowing what he was talking abut you felt his fingers prodding at your scalp and finally run through your hair with the devil horned headband and clips in his hand. Setting them down on the beside table he leaned back piping his cock and wrapping his fingers around his thick head of his shaft. Leaning down he took your mouth against his and you felt his thick tip push against your slit. Locking your ankles around his back you ran your hands down his shoulder and gripped his back. Your walls pulsated around him as he slid in inch by inch and you threw your head back as your walls accommodated his thick size. When he finally bottomed out in your heat he stilled letting you relax as he filled you to the brim. Sliding his tongue against your he grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. “You're so fucking tight, you make me crazy” he growled out and settled his mouth against your neck, nipping and sucking the skin as he slowly pulled out only to ram himself back in. Moaning loudly your grip on his shoulders tightened and you knew you were leaving crescent moons on his luscious tan skin. “Crazy? you seem pretty soft to me. Why don’t you fuck me and show me just how crazy I make you” you teased. After sucking harshly on your neck he sat back up and gripped the undersides of your thighs pulling them apart from his hips. “You’re so bad, want me to ruin you? Open you up with my fat cock?” you nodded and trailed your tongue along your lower lip preparing yourself for what he was about to do. Ramming himself up into you again you grated your teeth and looked up into his dark eyes. His rhythm was slow and harsh, pounds into you with each thrust of his hips. Your walls enveloped him and he swore he wasn’t giving you up after this, hell he wasn’t giving you up after that first kiss on that beer pong table. He was going to make sure you knew how he felt and hopefully you felt the same way. If not, he’d respect it but at least he’d know you knew how he felt. Watching your tits bounce with each thrust he heard you mumble out a raspy ‘faster’ and he complied, pushing your thighs farther up against your chest. At this knew angle you swore you felt him in your stomach. “Oh god” you ground out and his eyes flashed even deeper if that was possible “Fuck yeah, moan for me y/n” Sliding himself in and out of you at a fast pace, you could hear his balls slapping against your ass. The room filled with shallow breathes and curses spewing from either of your mouths. Taehyung slid his palms under your ass and gripped your cheeks between his large hands, squeezing harshly before pulling you up so you were sitting on his lip with his cock still stuffed inside of you. As he thrusted upwards you met his thrusts by bouncing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands held you by your ass, pushing and pulling your body on and off of his cock. Leaning towards him you sucked a bruise onto his neck and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Feeling his cock his that sweet spot you shuddered and clenched around him tightly. “Stop doing that before I cum” he gritted out and you pulled back from his neck smirking. “mm maybe that’s what I want” With a sharp thrust upwards into your tight cunt he splayed his right hand agains the bottom of your spine and pulled you as close as you could get. “You’re devilish, I swear. You want me to fill up your little pussy with my cum? is that what you want? to get filled?” his deep baritone voice filled your ears and you clenched impossibly tighter around his shaft. “T..Tae fill me up..I need it!” you moaned out loudly and he pushed your body back down onto the bed, pushing your ankles towards your chest he situated himself on his knees and started ramming into you to the point where your body slid against the bed. Reaching one hand down, he lightly gripped your neck. “Yeah? want me to fill you up? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock.” “Tae..Tae..I’m going t..to cum. Fuck you’re so deep” your eyes fluttered closed as he gripped your throat and you held onto his back. “Cum for me y/n, let me feel you soak my cock as I fill you to the brim” Feeling your body start to convulse you opened your eyes to see his fucked out face, sweat dripping down his cherry colored hair and down his neck. His hand flexing on your neck and his abs flexing with every thrust. His low moan of your name sent you over the edge and you clenched around him. Your thighs closed around his hips and you moaned out his name. Curling your toes your this quivered and your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. Arching off of the bed and towards him his grip on your neck loosened and he leaned down capturing your hips in his as his hips stilled and you felt his warm cum spitting inside of your waiting heat. Thrusting his cock back in and out slowly he let out a low groan as the remnants of his cum filled you. Taking deep breath he watched your face as he slowly slipped out of you and trailed his eyes down to watch the clear and white liquid leak out of you. Letting out a deep whine he leaned forward and captured your lips between his. His lips were soft against yours, still passionate but not as fiery as they had been earlier. Pulling back his gaze studied your face. “Tae..I” before you could continue he shook his head. “Wait before you say anything, please let me get this out. I’m sorry for the way things happened tonight but I don’t regret any of it. Iv’e literally liked you since we first argued about the attributes of the human brain during psych. That one time you called me an aloof imbecile I almost pulled you out of class and kissed that pretty look off of your face. I assumed you hated me and it made me mad, instead of being a normal human being and just asking you why you hated me I decided to take it out on you. If you didn’t like me, at least I could gain your attention arguing with you.” “And tonight, seeing you with those other guys..I couldn’t help but think it would’ve been better if it was me. I needed to stop being a pussy and just fucking tell you how i felt.” He shook his head as he spoke. “ What about you and Nami? and the fact that you laughed the other day when she made fun of what I should be for halloween and my tattoos” Scrunching his face he sighed. “First of all Nami is just a friend, well more like a family friend. Iv’e known her since I was young and I guess I was just used to her being there. Nami and i have never done anything and never will. Secondly, I didn’t laugh at whatever she said. to be completely honest I drowner out her voice after she asked how you got an invite. I has laughed at a meme Jin sent me of our other friend Namjoon whos away for a semester in Paris, with a bald cap on looking like a grandpa due to his old school vibe he always has. That being said, i’m sorry I never defended you when she said anything to or about you. I really wanted to but you were always so good at defending yourself and that one time Jose defended you, you had turned around and told him you didn’t ‘need a man’ to defend you. So that combined with me thinking you hated me, I just assumed you’d end up really hated me and wouldn’t give me the time of day when we argued anymore.” Climbing off of your body Taehyung sat down next to you and studied your expression. “I don’t hate you per say, I hated that you always argued with me, I hated that you scored higher than be despite never seeming to study while I worked my ass off, I hated that you came from money, you never had to fight for what you wanted or what you deserved. I hated that you were Nami’s friend and always seemed so aloof, like you really didn’t care about anything. But I didn’t..I don’t hate you as a person” you turned towards him. “Who said I never study? My parents would kill me if I scored sub-par. Hell, the only reason I can live here with Jin is if i keep up my grades and don’t disappoint them. If i didn’t care about anything my ass would be living in on campus housing and having an RA breath down my throat while my parents called me everyday asking if I was completing the study forms they sent over. Yeah I’m well off, but that’s my parents money and they worked hard for it. They put hard work and intelligence above all else.” your eyebrows rose at his confession and you get bad. You had assumed so much about him these passed two years and none of it seemed to be right. “I think that’s why I started to like you so much, you’re so intelligent, you work so hard at everything you do and you carry yourself like such a strong person. You kind of scare me if i’m honest” his deep voice chuckled and you smiled. “You’re beautiful inside and out” Taehyung said softly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. You could feel the tenderness in his chest and your heart fluttered. “Maybe I liked you too, maybe that’s why I always waited for you to argue with me. I like how intelligent you are, I like that you always have something to say about whatever point I’m trying to prove.” You said softly and the corner of his mouth lifter slightly “liked? past tense” Rolling your eyes you covered your face and grumbled. “fine, LIKE. As in present tense” Taehyung stepped off of the bed and chuckled “THE y/n likes me? i’m honored. Sure its not cause I just made you cum twice?” throwing your arm off of your eye you watched his figure retreating into another door before flicking a light on. “Shut up Tae!” Chuckling he emerged from what you assumed was an ensuite bathroom with a wet cloth and situated himself between your legs. “I like when you call me Tae” he said and you blushed, feeling the cool cloth wipe gently along your folds. Sliding the cloth along your legs he finished cleaning you up and smiled up at you gently with his every so beautiful boxy smile. Returning to the bathroom to drop off the cloth you heard the water turn on and assumed he was cleaning himself off as well. Letting your gaze look around the room you noticed the bookshelf across from the bed you were currently on. On its shelf sat different picture frames, books and what looked like plushies. On the other side of the same wall sat a dark grey desk complete with a laptop, a mini plant and various knickknacks and a chair with a navy blue hoodie that you noticed to be Taehyungs hanging off of the back of the chair. Next to the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp, an iPhone charging dock and a bottle of water. The door that connected to the rest of the house was on the same wall. Against the wall to the right of the bed was a large dark grey dresser that matched the desk and what you now noticed to be the bed frame. On the dresser sat bottles of cologne, accessories and a picture frame. Next to the dresser was the door Taehyung had disappeared into and another door you assumed to be maybe a closet. Furrowing your brows you realized this was Taehyung’s room and not just another guest room. Up until his confession earlier you assumed he lived in a luxurious off campus house paid for by his parents. While this was a luxurious Townhome it still wasn’t what you had pictured. As Taehyung walked out of the ensuite he opened a drawer and dug through until he found was he was looking for. Sauntering up to the bed he handed you a t-shirt and what had seemed to be your phone that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled on a pair of briefs over his legs. Holding the soft cotton material in your fingers you smiled and thanked him before slipping over your smaller frame. Checking your phone you immediately noticed a series of texts from Layla starting from concerned up to a text that had a winky face telling you to ‘get it, I came upstairs to check on you but your moaning let me know you were doing just fine’. Smacking your palm against your face you blushed bright crimson. Taehyung who had looking over your shoulder when you gasped at the text was giggling and you smacked his chest. “Ow, you hit hard” He said while still giggling. “So, would you..uh stay the night and maybe grab breakfast with me in the morning? I mean know that we’ve realized we both don’t hate each other and we kind of lik-“ Pressing your lips to his you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled back. “Yes, now can we sleep?.” Nodding Taehyung pulled you against his chest and brushed a few strands away from your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Running his hand along the flowers that decorated your right arm he smiled to himself before eventually closing his eyes as well. Interesting how Misunderstandings happen, isn’t it?

————————————

Omg this was supposed to just be a drabble from the pic of red haired Tae and inso from a game of beer pong, BUT ALAS this monster was born. this is my first fit so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Any love is beyond appreciated too <3 I have some ideas for other pics but i just want to get my page situated first. Any messages are welcome too <3 i lub talking to people.

-C otherwise known as, Potitties

#taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #btssmut #bts fic #bts taehyung #bts #smut #fic #college fic #enemies to lovers #tae #kim taehyung #tae smut #fanfic #fluff #angst #first fic

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jjmaybanksblog · 4 years ago

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The Book of You & I- Rafe Cameron

Summary: Based on The Book of You & I by Alec Benjamin

The Book of You & I- Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Summary: Based on

Word count: 2,900

Warnings: Angst, brief nudity mentioned, is kissing a warning?? all together sadness

Disclaimer: The female pronouns have been changed to male since this will be from a girls pov

Flashback in italics

Well, it all began in the back of his car

I was just sixteen, but I fell so hard

You and Rafe Cameron sat in the trunk of his jeep. Rafe had asked you on a date a few days before this, quickly realizing he was falling for you hard and fast.

He drove you two up to the look-out hill, which gave you a beautiful view of the Outer Banks. He decorated the trunk with pillows and small fairy lights, playing music in the background. You were resting your head on his chest, feeling at peace as you listened to his calm heart beat.

It was when he kissed your forehead did you realize you were falling for him just as hard. Every moment you spent with him then you fell harder and harder. He never failed to make you smile and feel loved when you needed it most which you greatly appreciated.

Well, the years went by and he held my heart, but his love ran dry and we fell apart

You and Rafe had been dating for 3 years now. 3 years of going on dates, surprising each other with gifts, going to parties together, mind blowing sex, spending nights together. You thought everything was going beautifully.

However, as time went by everytime you tried to hang out with your boyfriend, he said he was always busy, coming up with excuses on why he couldn't go out when in reality he was partying with his friends and snorting coke.

I felt him growing distant, I knew his love was shifting

"Why are you constantly up my ass what the fuck is that about lately?!" Rafe screamed in your face. You two were in the middle of an argument after you asked him why he hasn't been around lately. He snapped at you as soon as you asked.

"Why are you yelling at me?" You raised your voice back, genuinely confused as to why he was acting so hostile towards you. "Because I'm not happy in our relationship anymore!" He screamed, red in the face. Your mouth fell open at his confession, a strong tension filling the room. Your eyes stung with tears, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

"What?" Your voice was barely audible as he kept his stare at the floor, rubbing his hands through his hair.

"I'm not happy anymore. I just- I don't know I'm not… in love with you anymore." A sob escaped your lips as you took in his words. You didn't say anything else to him as you walked out of his bedroom, slamming his door shut. You attempted to collect yourself at least until you were back in your car.

Accidentally bumping into Sarah, your head hung low as you apologized. "Y/N, you okay?" Your eyes met Sarah who softly gasped at your red eyes. Quickly shaking your head, you left the Cameron household, and entered your car. Your fingers gripped your steering wheel until your knuckles turned white.

You inhaled sharply, wiping the tears out of your eyes you sped out of the driveway, your grip never ending up on the wheel.

And all that I could say was, don't tell me that it's over, the book of you and I. Now you've scribbled out my name and you've erased my favorite lines

You cried into your pillows for days on end, avoiding your friends calls and texts, not going to the dinner table to eat with your family, not leaving your bed in general. You sent countless nights, playing back memories in your head of the two of you. You questioned yourself so many times, wondering what you did wrong that made him fall out of love with you.

For the first time in a week you checked your social media. Your thumb hovered over Rafe's instagram account. Before you could stop yourself you scrolled through his posts, your grip tightening on your phone you saw all of his posts with you were deleted. Biting your tongue, you didn't hesitate to archive the pictures of you two on your account. Throwing your phone on the end of the bed, you sniffled before clutching onto your pillow.

There were so many chapters that we never got to write, like cereal for dinner and staying up all night.

For your 1 year anniversary, Rafe had bought you tickets to see your favorite band, getting you front row seats. You were forever grateful that Rafe had done that for you, even when you told him he didn't have to do anything so big.

You and Rafe stood side by side, his arm around your shoulder, your hand resting on his chest. Chills were sent down your spine as the crowd screamed and cheered as the band appeared on stage. Rafe shifted you so you were in front of him, your back against his chest.

You shut your eyes in happiness, listening to the crowd sing along to the lyrics. Letting the feeling of euphoria take over your body, you rested your head on his shoulder, holding his hands in place on your waist.

The concert lasted almost 2 hours, making it 3 a.m. when you two returned back to his house. As soon as the both entered your house, Rafe threw himself on your couch, his body exhausted from all the adrenaline. You giggled at your boyfriend, entering the kitchen to make bowls of cereal. Pouring Fruit loops into two bowls, you added the milk and grabbed two spoons.

Plopping yourself next to Rafe's head, you shook the cereal box, his head snapping up to look at which one you grabbed. A dorky grin appeared on his face, sitting up and tucking his legs underneath. "You know what to do." You handed him the remote. He shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth before turning the TV onto Spongebob.

I remember where we started, I remember how you looked

Before Rafe asked you on your first date, he asked you to senior prom. He knew you were a sucker for surprises so he gathered his friends to help lead you to the outside bus dock. There Rafe stood with a glass jar in his hands. You walked up to him and read the sign, 'be a smartie and take this dum dum to prom!' In the glass vase was the smarties candies on the bottom, and dum dumb lollipops on top.

Not being able to hold back your smile, you happily said yes to him, earning cheers and whoops from everyone around you.

Once prom actually came around, you never forgot what he looked like. He showed up at your door in a light blue tux, a corsage the color of your dress in his hands. You could easily tell he was nervous, but as soon as he saw you all of his nerves left. "You look… stunning." He exhaled, truly at a loss for words.

"Thank you! You clean up well." You joked, your hand skimming across the hems of his tux. His hand delicately cupped the side of your waist. "You truly do look like a princess."

But now I'm missing bits and pieces from the pages that you took. You didn't give a reason, I'll forever wonder why, we never got to finish the book of you and I.

You snuggled into your blankets, letting out a loud sigh. A soft knock echoed from the outside of your door. "Go away mom." You called out, only to hear another knock and the door opening. You flipped around to see Sarah Cameron standing at the foot of your bed with a box of pizza and plate of cookies.

After you thought you were out of tears, more tears swelled in your eyes at the sight of her. She joined next to you in your bed, holding you in her arms as you sobbed into her chest. Resting her chin on the top of your head, Sarah held you, her heartbreaking to hear your distressed sobs. "Shhh. It's okay, I got you." She mumbled.

"He never told me why," you started as you pulled away from her, wiping your tears on your blankets. "I don't know what I did wrong." You mumbled, picking at your fingernails. "Y/N, you did nothing wrong. Rafe is just an asshole, and I am so, so sorry for everything he's put you through recently."

Sarah slid the box of pizza towards you, a small smile on your face you took a slice and nibbled on the end. "Before I hug you more, I need you to take a shower." Sarah admitted before grabbing a slice for herself. You immediately dropped the pizza, apologizing before running into the bathroom.

Well, I bought a pen and I turned the page. Then I wrote about how I wish you'd stayed. I said all the things that I never got to say. Maybe when it's done, I will feel okay.

You sat at your desk, you thumb anxiously clicking the top of the pen. Your mom had bought you a journal to write down everything that you had going on in your mind. She said it would help you at least organize some thoughts instead of having them jumbled together in your head.

You sighed loudly before writing a letter that you knew you'd never send.

Dear Rafe,

God, I never thought I'd be writing this letter. I never thought we would break up. I never expected you to fall out of love with me. Everything just feels… out of place. You were my safe zone, out of everything that was changing in my life you constantly stayed by my side through everything and I loved that about you. I wish you were still with me. I don't know why after everything you've done to me recently, but I miss your touch. I miss the smell of your cologne. I miss your cute nicknames for me. I miss watching Disney movies with you. I miss staying up with you. I miss all of you. I never told you this, but I always pictured us getting married. I pictured you proposing to me after like our 5 year anniversary. We would have two kids, you would get to pick where we'd live. I'd get to change my name to Y/N Cameron. My bed feels empty without you. You were my first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first time, my first love, and as much as this hurts now, I am forever grateful you taught me how to love. I love you Rafe Cameron. No matter what.

Love,

Y/N

That he had grown so distant and that his love had shifted. I wish he felt the same.

Sarah finally convinced you to go to the beach with her due to you staying inside for nearly 3 months. You were about to meet Sarah's boyfriend and his friends for the first time. At first Sarah told you that she could cancel on John B, but you refused and insisted on meeting everyone.

You sat next to her on your towel, letting the sun hit your skin. You couldn't help but softly grin at the warm feeling. "Guys! Over here!" Sarah called out. A group of teens walked over to you two, welcoming smiles on everyone's faces. "Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N this is JJ, Kiara, Pope, and my boyfriend John B."

You stood up from your spot and welcomed Sarah's friends with a smile. Kiara on the other hand pulled you into a tight hug. You let out a surprised laugh, hugging the girl back. Sarah had explained to them that you had just had a rough break up and to stay away from the topic.

"You give really good hugs." You admitted, releasing the girl.

The day was going beautifully, everyone was swimming or surfing. You finally felt relaxed, like everything is okay. "Hey! Y/N look at this!" John B randomly shouted. Your head snapped towards him, looking at the shell he had in his hands. You observed it before a familiar voice echoed from further down the beach. Your hands dug into the sand, John B looking down at you with pity in his eyes.

"It's him isn't it?" He softly nodded his head. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. JJ appeared by your side, "you want me to teach you how to surf?" Your heart felt warm at his offer. Nodding your head, you followed JJ into the ocean, your eyes not daring to look at Rafe.

Don't tell me that it's over, the book of you and I. Now you've scribbled out my name and you've erased my favorite lines.

After a long day of JJ teaching you how to surf, everybody agreed to get dinner at The Wreck. You jumped out of John B's van, holding the front door to the restaurant open for your friends. You stepped foot into the dining room, only to pause in your steps.

You didn't care that you saw Rafe, you cared that you saw some girl under his arm. Your friends saw the color leave your face, all of them shoving back out the front door. You inhaled and exhaled harshly to prevent yourself from crying. "Hey. hey, come here." Sarah comforted you in her arms, trying your best to maintain your composure. You quickly stepped away from her, "no, no it's okay. I'm okay," you lied, shaking your hands out, "I think I just need to go home."

Kiara nodded her head, "I'll take you home if you want." You shook your head, "no it's okay. I'm just gonna walk home." Sarah's eyebrows raised up. "Y/N that's like an 8 mile walk." You shrugged your shoulders. "I just want to be alone and walking is good. I'll text you when I get home, okay?" Everyone gave you a hug before watching you walk away from them.

The moment you had your back turned on them, you broke down. How could he have moved on so quickly? Was she just a fling or a new relationship? So many questions in your mind, you knew could not be answered.

There were so many chapters that we never got to write, like cereal for dinner and staying up all night.

Rafe gently nudged your body, "psst. Baby, are you awake?" He whispered. You flipped around and faced him. "I haven't been able to sleep at all." You said, your hand immediately finding its place on the side of his face. "Wanna go skinny dipping?" He suggested. You jumped out of his bed as soon as he finished his sentence. He knew you had always wanted to try that, and since his parents were renovating a house that was 6 hours away staying a hotel, he knew this was a perfect time to do it.

You raced him down the stairwell and into his backyard. Quickly stripping, you were left in nothing. You jumped into the water, thankful that the pool lights were off. Rafe jumped in, joining you. You leaned your head back, letting the water sweep through your hair.

Rafe swam up to you, his hands finding your butt as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "I don't know why we didn't do this sooner." You joked, pressing your chest against his. He swiped a stray piece of wet hair away from your eyes, his thumb shifting down to your lips. "Because we both know where this would lead." His thumb skimmed across your bottom lip, allowing you to open your mouth to kiss it.

I remember where we started, I remember how you looked, but now I'm missing bits and pieces from the pages that you took. You never gave a reason, I'll forever wonder why, we never got to finish the book of you and I. Don't tell me, tell me that you're leaving me. My belly hurts and my heart is hardly beating right, I hate to beg, but I'll try one last time.

Dear Rafe,

It's been exactly one year since we broke up. I became friends with some Pogues. I know you'd flip on me if I told you that and we were still together, but they're treating me better than you have towards the end of our relationship. I'm not gonna lie, I still miss you sometimes, most of the time actually. I'm still confused on why things ended the way they did. You've avoided me the entire time, leaving me without a clue and I hate it. I picked at every flaw about myself, trying to figure out if that's why you left. Do you know how mentally draining that is? God, it fucking sucks. I stopped crying over you though. Yeah it hurts my heart when I see you, but I think I wasted all my tears on you. I really don't know why I'm even writing to you anymore, I feel like I told you everything I needed to. I used to beg every day and pray every single night to get you back, and it hasn't happened. But I get it now. You finished our story before I got the chance to finish it myself, and that's just how love works sometimes. I'll never forget you Rafe Cameron, but I'll also never forgive you.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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ssidesblog · 4 years ago

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pretty as a painting

roman/logan fic ! (ao3)

roman and logan visit a museum and roman has a staring problem

Roman sat in the passenger’s seat of Logan’s car, staring out the window as buildings rushed past. Music played softly from the radio, tuned into some station that neither bothered to change. The car held a comfortable silence, something not of common occurrence when the two boys were together. Roman glanced over at Logan. He was focused on the road, his hands idly tapping some unknown rhythm on the steering wheel. If Roman listened close enough, he could hear Logan humming a song he didn’t know. His expression softened as he admired his friend, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He couldn’t help it, Logan was just too beautiful for his own good. Even with the clouds blocking the shining sun, Logan glowed.

“It looks like it may rain.” Logan spoke for the first time since Roman had entered the car.

“It just might,” Roman said, diverting his gaze from Logan to the overcast weather,“But we’ll be inside for most of it, I think the only outdoor part of the museum is the botanical garden.” Roman glanced back over at Logan, who’s eyes were still on the road.

“I would still like to look at the garden, I believe there are statues displayed among the plants.” Logan chanced a glance at Roman and quickly turned his focus back to the road.

“If we get soaked it’s not on me.” Roman said.

“Well, it was your idea to go to the museum today, so you would be at fault.” Logan said with a smirk. Roman rolled his eyes.

“You’re the one who agreed to come, you get wet, that’s on you.” Roman knew Logan couldn’t argue against that.

“I guess you are correct.” Logan sighed turning into a parking garage.

“Hey, Lo,” Roman waved Logan over to him,“Who painted this one?”

“You know,” Logan said,“The plaques next to each painting displays the artist who painted it.” Roman huffed.

“Yes, I know, but,” Roman looked up at Logan,“You give extra details about the painter, it’s more interesting if you tell me.” Logan’s face turned a darker shade of pink and Roman softly smiled. Logan coughed to clear his throat.

“Well, this one is by Monet…” Logan started and Roman only vaguely listened to what he was saying. Roman honestly couldn’t care about Monet, it was just nice to hear Logan speak. His voice was smooth and reminded him of an audio book, comforting and precise, each word said with intent. Roman’s eyes trailed down to his lips as Logan spoke and oh, what he would do to fit his own to his friend’s, like fitting two puzzle pieces together.

“...very well known for -Roman are you listening?” Logan asked. Roman smiled at him, blush decorating his face.

“Sorry, I must have zoned out.” Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand. Logan eyed him and then sighed.

“If you are going to ask me to talk I would appreciate you listen.” Logan said with a smile, slightly exasperated. Roman chuckled.

“Of course, will do, teach.”

They continued to walk through the museum, Logan providing interesting facts about each artist and Roman actually paid attention, not wanting to get called out again. Logan was always so observant, Roman couldn’t even admire him without him asking why he was staring.

Eventually, they made their way out into the garden. Logan was right, statues were displayed all around the garden, some looming over them and others simple busts on pedestals. The garden itself contained huge trees, vines wrapped around pillars, and flowers stood out as a well needed pop of color. Logan and Roman were the only patrons in the garden.

“What kind of trees are these?” Roman asked, placing a hand on a trunk of one of the many, almost identical, trees. The leaves seemed to rain down and cover the two.

“Oh,” Logan joined him in looking at the tree,“These are weeping willow trees, named after the way the low hanging branches resemble tears.” Logan finished with an adjustment to his glasses.

“They’re really pretty.” Roman said in amazement. He turned towards Logan, who adorned a smile on his face as he looked up at the tree. His smile was so subtle, but it radiated joy when Roman looked at it. Logan looked back down at him, who he caught staring, yet again.

“Didn’t your parents tell you it’s rude to stare?” Logan’s smile turned more into a smirk.

“What else am I supposed to do?” Roman smiled,“They said I’m not allowed to touch the artwork.” Logan’s eyes widened and his face turned bright red. Roman softly laughed. Logan turned away from him, seemingly more interested in a rose bush. Roman sighed, his stomach filled with butterflies. Logan was a little too oblivious. Although Roman flirted with his friends often, it was just in his nature, he really liked Logan. The nerd had wormed his way into Roman’s heart with his dorky facts and even though Logan wasn’t great at feelings, he had a way with words. It also didn’t help that he was the most gorgeous person Roman had ever seen.

He walked over to a bench and sat down, placing his elbow on his knee and resting his head in his hand. He watched as Logan looked at all the different plants, turning to Roman every so often to excitedly gush about the flowers. Roman’s gentle smile was ever present. Truthfully, Roman didn’t really understand the hype around plants. He could enjoy a romantic rose and a good climb in a tree but he just thought plants were plants; they added some decoration to the earth. Logan, however, loved plants. Majoring in botany will do that to someone, and Roman knew how much he had wanted to come to this museum, if only for the garden, so he suggested they paid it a visit. It was worth it to Roman just to watch Logan geek out and be adorable.

Logan eventually tired himself out and joined Roman on the bench. The quietness that settled around them was a little odd, but peaceful. Logan fidgeted with his phone, typing something out. Roman went back to staring at him. His eyes were soft, the usual cynicism and overall disdain for the world was gone from them, replaced by something quieter, kinder. These moments were what Roman appreciated most. Seeing his tight wound friend more relaxed, more himself.

“Roman.” Logan chewed on his bottom lip,“You have been staring at me an awful lot today. Is there something wrong with my appearance?”

“Oh, no none at all.” Roman quickly reassured him, “I just…” He let his sentence trail off. What was he supposed to say; I just like looking at you because you’re the only masterpiece I’ve seen today and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.

“Are you okay?” Logan looked up to meet his eyes. “You seem uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Are you saying you like when I talk?” Roman joked.

“Actually, yes I quite do.” Logan replied, looking away. This time, Roman felt his face go hot and he knew he was as red as the roses.

“Well,” Logan stood up awkwardly, “Maybe we should-” Before he could finish, Roman pulled him back down to the bench.

“Logan,” Roman started, fidgeting with his hands,“I keep staring at you because I think you’re stunning and I just enjoy being around you and I think to myself: how did I get this lucky to spend time with this beautiful nerd? This renaissance painting come to life whose eyes I could get lost in, whose voice gets stuck in my head like a favorite song.” Roman moved his hands to Logan’s and he looked up and met his eyes, “What I’m trying to say is I really like you, Lo. And you don’t have to like me back, but you deserve to know how I feel.” He sucked in a breath, waiting for Logan’s response. It was quiet for a while, Roman still holding Logan’s hands and his breath. Finally, Logan spoke.

“I like you too, Roman.” He said with a blush, “And I don’t use words in the same way you do, but I thoroughly enjoy the time we spend together, and I would not trade these moments for the world.” Logan smiled, a genuine smile that Roman couldn’t get enough of. Roman grinned back, finally letting go of his hands. Just as Roman went to speak, the two felt raindrops fall onto them. Roman looked up with a laugh. It came down slowly, but enough to soak through their clothes. Logan stood up and held out a hand for Roman, which he gladly took and lifted himself up. Logan pulled him close and lifted his other hand to Roman’s cheek. Roman wrapped his arms around his waist.

“I know this is cliche, but, may I-” Before Logan could finish, Roman connected the space between them with a soft kiss. Logan smiled into it, moving the hand that was placed on Roman’s cheek to his neck, deepening the kiss. They pulled apart, leaning their foreheads together.

“We’re soaking wet.” Logan said, playfulness laced his words.

“I’ll take responsibility for this one,” Roman said, placing another gentle kiss to Logan’s lips, “Let’s get inside before we grow mold.” Logan chuckled and nodded. They separated, keeping their hands interlocked.

“Well, on the bright side, you got to touch the artwork.” Logan said, a smug look on his face. Roman barked out a laugh.

“That I did, Specs.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek,“That I did”

#logince #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #first sanders sides fic hell yea #listen...ilove my boys #i needed some fluff before i wrote angst

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marauder-level-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

In A World Like That Ch One

Magnus and Alec have been pushed into their TWI roles by a meddling demon who feeds on their happiness. It puts them in a deep sleep and the only way to get out there is to find each other in TWI and fall in love. If they can do that, they will automatically fall out of the magical slumber the demon has placed them under. Otherwise, they fall into an eternal sleep. It’s upto Malec to find their way back to each other. It is set after the TWI episode in the show, so they have met each other once already. Here is the masterlist. My AO3: malecplusotherthings

Warnings: swearing, TWI characters, angst obviously, some fluff, slight show divergence

When Magnus Bane woke up that morning, something had been very different. Everything around him looked as it always did, but felt extremely strange. He quickly shook the feeling and went about his day as he normally would. Magnus reached over to the table by his bed and grabbed his glasses. He brushed his teeth and poured himself a giant pot of coffee. He then fumbled around in his closet to find the only clean shirt left and paired it with a random pair of jeans. Great, now I’m going to have to do some laundry. I fucking hate laundry.

Magnus then headed downstairs to the antique store. His father had left him the store when he had passed a few years ago. Since then, Magnus had kept it in almost perfect condition. He grabbed one of his frayed light grey sweaters off the hook behind the door and went outside to get the mail. Usually there was nothing interesting in the mail, but today was different. Between all the credit card statements and electricity bills, Magnus noticed a deep purple envelope with beautiful silver lettering. He frowned as he grabbed a butterknife to open the letter. Inside was a wonderfully designed lilac invitation with gold writing that matched the silver on the envelope. The invitation asked Magnus to join an antiques exhibition at the Institute over the weekend. Well, they’ve got style, I’ll give them that. This was Valentine Morgenstern's way of including other smaller businesses in his circle. Between taking care of this business and his tarot readings, Magnus didn’t exactly have time for such events.

The day had been quite busy with people coming through the doors of the store constantly. It had been hours and Magnus hadn’t had a chance to sit down yet. He glanced at the clock above his head. It was already past noon. The exhibition would have started by now. He wouldn’t be able to make it even if he wanted to. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a customer asking for assistance. After helping them out, Magnus finally had some time to himself. Or so he thought. Surely enough, the door swung wide open once again. However this time, a familiar face walked through it.

“You got the invitation?” Catarina called. She was a co-owner of Magnus’ antiques store so it was obvious that she would have received an invitation as well. “I think you should go, Magnus. It might be good to get our name out there.”

“I’m a bit busy here, Cat. Besides, it’s already 1 PM. The exhibition started over an hour ago. They’re probably even done by now. I couldn’t go even if I wanted to.”

“Well, the invitation said it goes until 2 PM, so if you hurried you could make it.” Catarina said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’m still busy so you go on ahead if you want to.” Catarina jumped over the counter to get behind the cash register.

“I would, Magnus, but you see I’m not the one who has a crush on the Institute’s Party Planner.” Magnus knew telling Cat about the boy he had met during the Morgensterns’ Mad Hatter party was a mistake. He rolled his eyes at her and glanced one more time at his watch.

“Well if it’s so important to you I guess I could go.” Magnus smiled at her. He grabbed his coffee off of the counter and marched out the door.

By the time Magnus got to the Institute, the crew had already begun to pack up. All the tables had been cleared and the chairs were neatly stacked in the corner.

“Hi...I’m Magnus Bane. I was invited here for the antiques exhibition?” Magnus pulled out his invitation from his pocket and tried asking one of the security guards at the door.

“I’m sorry but that exhibition has shut down for the day. Mr. Lightwood gave us strict orders to not let anybody in after 1:30.” Magnus let out a sigh of disbelief and threw his hands up in exasperation. All this was clearly for nothing.

***

Alexander Lightwood had been planning his exhibition for quite a while. After seeing his work at the Mad Hatter party, Valentine Morgenstern had asked him to take up a job as the Head of the Institute’s marketing and public relations team. It had been Alec’s idea to plan an exhibition in order to get to know the smaller businesses in the city. Many people would say that this whole thing was a charade for Alec to meet the man he saw at the Mad Hatter party. Magnus, that’s his name. Those people would be right. Shy, adorable and dorky was exactly Alec’s type. He knew that Magnus was an antiques store owner so Alec had sent an invitation over to his store. Being the nerd Magnus was, Alec was certain that such an exhibition would draw him out. He had called antique collectors from all over New York to take part in this event. Despite having been planning this for months, something felt odd to Alec. Something was different.

“You know, if somebody planned an entire party just to get my attention, I would probably love them for the rest of my life.” Alec turned his head and saw Simon standing in the doorway. He smiled. Simon was one of his oldest and best friends.

“Well, seeing as I was the one who planned the housewarming party for you and my sister…”

“And I do love you. What can I say, I have a thing for Lightwoods.” Simon shrugged. Alec laughed at that. “You ready, Alec?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right down just give me a minute.” Simon shut the door behind him and Alec turned his attention back to the mirror. He was wearing a perfectly tailored navy colored suit with a well ironed white button-down shirt. It brought out the blue in his eyes. His dark hair was messy but in an elegant sort of way. Silver rings adorned his long, graceful fingers. Alec picked up the black eyeliner laying on his dresser as a finishing touch to his ensemble. Alec had always been one for a little extra flair.

Satisfied with his look, Alec made his way downstairs to manage - according to Izzy, the correct term is micromanage - the details of the event. Guests were filtering in through the doors of the Institute but there was no sign of Magnus. Alec glanced at his watch and sighed. It was almost 1 PM. Maybe he was wrong about this. Maybe he was wrong about Magnus altogether. He signalled his crew to start packing up for the day. He made his way over to the drinks table where his friends were waiting for him.

“Is he pining?” Alec heard Jace ask Simon.

“Oh, he’s pining.” Simon said. Alec shot them a glare.

“Alexander Lightwood does not pine.” He retorted. “If Magnus isn’t going to come here, I’ll go to him.”

With that, Alec went to the address he had delivered the invitation to. He figured that if Magnus didn’t show it was probably because he got caught up at work. It was a bit of a walk but Alec didn’t mind. Magnus’ antiques store was very well maintained. It had a certain class to it. Alec made his way through the store, searching for Magnus. He spotted a woman behind the counter and went over to her.

“Hey, uh, Catarina, I’m looking for Magnus?” He said, reading her name off of her badge.

“Oh, he actually left for the day. Can I take a message?” Alec shook his head. Dammit, Magnus. Maybe this hadn’t gone the way Alec had planned for it to go, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up.

Malec Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@thatwinchestergirl67 @quickbright @julialightbane @bestieswithmydarkthoughts @plaggherondale

#malec #shadowhunters #in a world like that #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #the world inverted #alec x magnus #Magnus x Alec

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perfeggso · 4 years ago

Text

till the sun’s seeing through my eyes (yumark)

ace me out

Yuta and Mark are next-door neighbors who grew up together, joined at the hip until Yuta went off to college. Due to their four-year age gap, Mark's freshman year at the same school marks the halfway point of an unprecedented amount of time apart. Yuta is sure he can handle it, until Mark's arrival home for spring break makes him wonder if the fondness he has for his friend might be blooming quite literally into something stronger. It's up to him to handle the consequences.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Characters: Yuta x Mark + NCT ensemble, other SM (and non-SM (?)) idols tbd

Genres: heavy angst, fluff, Hanahaki!AU, small town!AU, slight Witchcraft/Magic!AU, College!AU

Warnings: blood and gore, mentions of death, disease, vomiting, college-typical alcohol use, swearing

Rating: T

Length: 5.8k

“Sunny,” Yuta reckoned, was the word most often used to describe both him and Mark – if in profoundly different ways. Yuta’s favorite season was summer, so it followed that he should be like the summer sun: bright, intense, and all-consuming. Mark, on the other hand, favored fall, and sometimes reminded Yuta of early autumn sunshine: soft in its glow, yet surprisingly bold.

It wasn’t summer when Yuta started feeling shortness of breath for the first time; it wasn’t fall, either. It was in early March, during the part of spring where no one can agree if the world still feels like winter or if it’s beginning to thaw. The thaw was usually something Yuta savored; the slow sensation of sunshine gingerly gracing his skin for the first time in months. Sure, the winter sun was a welcome reprieve from the town’s usual snow and rain-induced gloom, but even when it came out, Yuta had a hard time feeling it. It was the difference between being touched by bare hands and being touched through gloves. Early March was when that transition usually occurred, along with the first appearances of crocuses and daffodils in Yuta’s garden, and he had always relished it; relished the lead-up to his favorite season and how that seemed to elongate it. Since last year though, Yuta wasn’t sure what he thought about spring anymore – if he could still trust it. It was almost exactly a year ago after all – last March – that Yukhei had nearly let himself die of hanahaki.

No, the first time Yuta felt an unusual shortness of breath was after soccer practice on March 6th, the day Mark Lee came home for spring break. The sun was peeking through the clouds and glittering off the distant coast as Yuta kicked the ball around with Kun, who’d met up with him in the park off Main Street once Yuta’d finished running the local junior high soccer team through some drills. Yuta had played intramurally while studying anthropology at the college a half hour away, as well as participating in several dance troops, and since he was only a year out of school, he still considered himself a relatively fit person, even if he was known to gorge on the Seo family’s matcha and azuki bean muffins until he could barely walk. That’s why he found it so odd when he ran for the ball, which Kun had kicked particularly hard and far, and felt like the air was being yanked from his lungs like a chair being pulled from under him.

He kicked it back, his body flailing wildly, and collected himself, hands on his knees and upper body heaving, bent over. Maybe he was developing asthma, he thought. He’d heard of that happening to people nearly at random and with no history of the ailment. He would have to make himself something for that.

“You okay?” called Kun, stopping the ball quickly and jogging over to his friend.

“Yeah I’m good,” Yuta responded, peering up at Kun sideways and flashing him his most blinding grin. “I just felt a little weird for a sec.”

Yuta gazed past Kun, noticing a figure moving on the edge of the field. Was that –

“Mark?” he yelled, heaving one more time before allowing himself to return to standing. Kun wheeled around, looking elated, and sure enough, the figure raised both arms in greeting, breaking into a run.

“I’m baaaaack!” said Mark. Yuta thought he looked older, even, than he had over his winter break, wearing jeans and a brown herringbone bomber jacket, black hair parting down the middle to fall over a pair of round wire glasses. He looked like a city boy for some reason, not a conservation major from the countryside. Yuta practically tackled Mark in a hug, trying to absorb his friend’s smaller frame as Kun looked on in amusement. A grey cloud floated overhead, obscuring the tentative sun and making Yuta shiver. When he pulled away, he indulged in a look of performative hurt, unzipping his pocket and pulling his phone out just to confirm what he already suspected; sure enough, there were no notifications.

“How dare you, Mark Lee!” he accused, pointing his finger in Mark’s face and leaning forward so Mark felt the need to lean back in response. “How could you not tell me you were coming home today?”

Mark broke into a body-racking fit of giggles. “I’m not allowed to give you a nice surprise?”

Yuta huffed in lieu of an answer and pointed at Kun. “Was he involved?”

“Mark texted me earlier and asked if I could find you and detain you for him,” Kun confirmed, and Yuta glared.

“Whatever. Markie, you caught me so unprepared! I hope you know I won’t forgive you.” But that was a lie. Yuta had already forgiven Mark the ambush, if it required forgiving at all, and Mark knew this because the moment he’d schooled his laughing (which was no small feat) he sighed through a tight-lipped smile, eyes so big under his glasses and full of familiar warmth.

“It’s good to see you too, man,” Mark said, adding, “and Kun also. Thanks for being my co-conspirator.”

Now that he’d processed, Yuta realized how giddy he was. His best friend was back for a few weeks and they could do whatever they wanted; make spring sweet like it used to be. He shuffled a bit on his feet as his enthusiasm boiled over, pushing thoughts of asthma out. He slung an arm over Mark’s neck and started walking towards the rest of town while Kun went to fetch the ball like the responsible person he’d always been.

“Ugh, why can’t you just graduate already?” Yuta whined to Mark. “I mean we’ve already gone through this once when I was gone! It hasn’t even been a year yet and I’m already sick of you being away!”

Mark chuckled. “Thanks?” he said. “But you can always come visit me, dude, like you already have…”

Yuta shook his head, petulant. There were moments he thanked his lucky stars that his friends put up with his shit, and this was one of them. “Not the same,” he explained. “Don’t like sharing.”

Mark spluttered.

“Anyway!” Yuta diverted when Kun rejoined them, “Do you want to come over to mine this evening so we can catch up? Kun, you’re invited too of course along with the others, who I can shoot a text too although it might be a LITTLE LAST MINUTE, you know? That could have been avoided, but alas.” Yuta cleared his throat as his friends laughed indulgently. “But yeah, I’m in the barn these days, so we can have a little shindig. What do you say?”

“That sounds awesome!” said Mark. “Just gotta check with my parents, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Yuta rolled his eyes and scoffed in mock disdain. “Underclassmen…”

They emerged from the park onto Main Street and Kun excused himself to check on the coffeeshop, promising to be at Yuta’s whenever they decided the gathering would be. Yuta turned to Mark.

“I have a couple errands I have to run in town before I go home, and then I need to get ready, so while I’m doing that you can go and make sure you have permission to be out after dark.”

Mark laughed, flustered. That was one of the plethora of reasons he tended to laugh; the others ranging from fear to disgust to joy. “Alright, Yuta,” he agreed. “I’ll see you tonight. Can’t wait to be back with the gang; well – minus Johnny, I guess. Anyway, can I get another hug?”

Yuta grabbed Mark before the request had been fully uttered, rocking him back and forth and groaning in a way he thought only appropriate considering the tightness of his squeezing.

“Whatever you want, Markie,” Yuta teased before letting his friend go. “See you tonight.” And with that Mark was backing away down the street and towards their neighborhood, giving Yuta a dorky little salute when he’d gone far enough to warrant turning around. Yuta shuddered as he watched Mark leave, the cool tinge of early spring evening setting in against his exposed arms. It was already 4:30 and the previous sunshine was diffusing into a blue tint over everything in sight. The shade reminded Yuta of the hour in summer when fireflies usually made their first appearances. If only it were warmer.

On his way down Main, Yuta stopped into the herbalist’s before the shop closed, finding Kunhang manning it, himself home for break. A little bell jingled as the door opened and shut and Kunhang lifted his head from where it had been settled lazily against the metal counter.

“Yuutaaa,” he called, “what do you need?”

“Hey Kunhang,” he greeted, “do you guys have any black seed? I’m all out.”

Kunhang reached under his desk and rummaged around, emerging with an empty jar about the size of a single serving of yogurt. “Sure thing,” he said, turning around and tracing his eyes and pointer finger over labels upon labels until he found the one for the product he was looking for. “Here we go. What’s it for?”

Yuta shrugged, fishing for his wallet. “Just a little chest tightness. Think I exercised too much today. I’m an old man, you know.”

Kunhang turned back around, jar of black granules in hand, and placed it on a small metal scale. “You’re the furthest thing from an old man I can think of, but alright.” He said, then named the price. Yuta laughed at Kunhang’s comment and exchanged a few bills for his purchase, which Kunhang had packed for him in a lavender-colored paper bag folded over at the top.

“You close at five?” Yuta asked, loitering a few feet from the door. Kunhang nodded. “Perfect. You know Mark’s back?”

“I heard,” said Kunhang, settling his elbows back on the counter’s copper top. “But I haven’t had time to see him yet. I don’t think he knows I work here now.”

“Well, I’m trying to have a get-together tonight at my place to celebrate. I’ll send out details soon I think.”

Kunhang looked pleasantly surprised. “Oh! That’s awesome!” he said. “I’ll definitely be there. Is it, like – what kind of get-together?”

Yuta chuckled and Kunhang’s expression hinted at embarrassment. College kids…

“It’ll be chill, but I’m cool with BYOB if you have something in mind. I have a few herbal liqueurs I’ve been wanting a reason to break out, anyway.”

“Sweet,” said Kunhang. “See you tonight, I guess.”

Yuta let himself out with a chiming of the bell. “I hope so!”

Next stop was Taeyong’s flower shop. Yuta steadied himself before crossing the street, breath hitching again strangely at his trachea. He cleared his throat, trying to fight the mild jolt of terror it gave him not knowing what was wrong. It was as if when he drew air into his lungs, a small fraction of it transformed into something else that he couldn’t breathe. It was…strange; there was no other way of describing it. He pitched forward a bit and forced himself to take a full breath to calm his nerves. He’d been conditioned by his soccer coaches his whole life not to catch his breath in this position, but now that he was actually struggling, he found it was the only effective strategy. Once he felt a bit better, he crossed the street and walked into the Lee family flower shop.

“Evening, good sir,” he said jovially upon entry. Taeyong seemed to be in the process of tallying up the day’s total from the till.

“Yuta!” he said, looking from under his bangs. “What a surprise. You need something or just stopping in to say hi?”

“Both,” Yuta answered, calm normalcy settling back into his brain as if he’d crushed it up and taken it in a little pill. “I’m getting some flowers in Mark’s honor. Have you seen him yet?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, setting down a handful of bills and rocking against the counter in front of him, “he stopped by earlier today. Didn’t get to talk long though. He warned me not to text you anything about it.” Taeyong smirked.

Who else’d seen Mark before Yuta had? He pushed his petulant thoughts aside. “I’m having a little impromptu party in the loft tonight if you could be bothered. Just to celebrate being reunited as a mostly group, you know – now that all the young’uns are back from break.”

Taeyong nodded. “Sounds perfect. Just tell me the details and I’ll be there.”

“Great. In the meantime,” Yuta continued, “I’d like to acquire a bouquet to decorate; make it homier, I guess. Also, I want it to be something Mark would like.”

Taeyong pursed his lips in thought and hummed. “What about bluebell?” he asked. “They just came into season and Mark likes blue.”

“Sounds good,” Yuta agreed as Taeyong cut a square of paper, scissors gliding with a satisfying crisp sound, folded it into a cone, and began arranging the bauble-like periwinkle blossoms inside it.

“Anything else you want in there?” asked Taeyong. Yuta hadn’t come with a plan, so he found himself pondering his options uselessly. That is, until a golden bundle of baby sunflowers caught his eye.

“Oh!” he said, pointing in their direction. “Maybe a few of those; since I like them and because Mark brought the sunnier weather with him today.”

Taeyong smiled softly, plucking three of the blooms and situated them amongst the bluebell in the least awkward arrangement possible considering their vast difference in size.

Yuta nodded his approval. “Looks good,” he remarked. “By the way, where did you get them? It’s not really the season...”

“The sunflowers?” Taeyong asked, and Yuta nodded again. Taeyong leaned over the counter and put a flattened hand on one side of his mouth like he had a particularly juicy secret. Yuta leaned in too. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but they have this very exciting new technology called a greenhouse. It’s still part of a classified experiment, but you know, I figured I could trust you…” Taeyong giggled at Yuta’s expense and at his own jest.

“Alright, whatever,” Yuta grumbled, reaching again for his wallet. “stupid question.”

“What are you doing?” Taeyong shot at him.

“Paying you?” Yuta responded.

“No, you’re not. Friend discount; on the house.”

“ Discount isn’t supposed to mean free,” Yuta protested.

Taeyong gave a proud look as he forced the flowers on Yuta. “I am the house, therefore I get to decide what to put on it. That’s the final word.”

Yuta tried to argue again but lost due to Taeyong’s hard-headed generosity.

Taeyong gestured to Yuta’s bag of seeds as he was preparing to leave. “That for Mark too?” he asked.

“No, this is for me,” replied Yuta. “Just out of some herbs. Also, the flowers aren’t only for Mark. You’ll all get to enjoy them!”

Taeyong’s eyes rolled up into his head for a moment, contrasting the sweetness of his face. “Okay, okay, fair enough. I’ll see you later tonight, then. I can’t wait!”

When Yuta was out the door, he transferred his baggie so it was pinned between his elbow and side, giving him a hand to manipulate his phone. There was a text bubble on the screen from Mark confirming he could come over any time after 6:30. Yuta grinned, sending off a quick message in their friend group chat requesting the pleasure of everyone’s presence at his home at 7:45.

Yuta’s family lived in a craftsman farmhouse with a compact cluster of woods in the backyard and a garden out front. The Nakamotos were not farmers, though, so the rest of the land which had once come with the house they sold in part and gave up in part to be used as communal land for the town. This meant that Yuta grew up with a slew of gardeners, hikers, picnickers, and campers hanging around his home, and his friends credited this with his sociability.

The house’s old barn had been converted into storage space and a study for Yuta’s father, but once he’d graduated from college and returned home, the upper loft area was turned over to Yuta so he could enjoy more privacy from his parents and younger sister. It was really nice of them to let him move in there while he decided what to do with himself. He remembered transferring his belongings to the barn like he was moving into his dorm freshman year all over again.

Yuta and Mark hadn’t met in school, since they were four grades apart. Instead, they met because they lived next door to each other; their families’ properties separated only by a short hawthorn hedge. Once when they were in elementary and preschool respectively, they became convinced there were dinosaur bones entombed in the plant’s roots and went to work hacking at them with plastic toy shovels until they had unearthed a series of interestingly-shaped rocks, or as they had put it to their horrified parents, “triceratops horns.”

Yuta still had those rocks on a silver saucer he kept on his dresser to display random natural objects he’d collected over the years, and the memory flashed through him at the sight of them when he walked into his room that day. He placed his bouquet in a flouted cut crystal vase which he set in the sitting area on the far end of his loft, then ran a hot shower, figuring the steam would do some good for both his chilled nerves and constricted lungs.

When he exited the shower, he rummaged through his herb cabinet, pulling out some honey, turmeric, ginger, and ginseng. He placed the herbs into his quartz mortar along with a small spoonful of the black seed he’d bought from Kunhang, then crushed it all up with his pestle. He dumped the resulting paste into a mug, added some honey so that it all resembled liquified amber, and doused the mixture in hot water from his portable kettle. Before drinking it, he thought up a short prayer that the infusion might permanently sooth whatever inflammation was bothering his airways. He figured the strange discomfort wasn’t anything serious, but you could never be too careful.

Yuta sipped the pungent concoction and scrolled through his phone. To his delight, most people were responding positively. Everyone besides Chenle and Taeil (who happened to be home visiting) was available, and when Yuta offered to reschedule, both of them said they could just have another gathering later and it would be for the better – Yuta’s loft was going to be a tough fit for all of them as it was. In a way it made him feel better that Johnny couldn’t be there. That was the trouble with large friend groups: finding a time when everyone was free and motivated was as difficult as finding a spell Yuta’s mother hadn’t practiced.

Yuta hooked his phone up to his speaker and played some music while he got dressed, swapping his black bathrobe for jeans, a white t-shirt, and the letterman cardigan that’d been purchased ironically with the rest of his contemporary dance troupe in college, but quickly turned into one of his favorite items of clothing. Yuta peeked at his clock. An hour and a half and he’d be dancing around his room with his friends, pleasantly buzzed and listening to all the hijinks Mark had undoubtedly gotten himself into his freshman spring.

***

Yuta might have been a diviner, he thought stupidly, he had been that accurate in predicting how the night would go. Of course, it wasn’t hard to anticipate an outcome he’d had a hand in orchestrating, but he excused his jumbled thoughts as they could be easily chalked up to the multiple Campari drinks he’d made himself over the course of the night – or, at least, that he’d convinced Doyoung to make for him. He was in the sitting area of his room, dancing with Mark and trying not to disrupt any of his furniture in the cramped space.

“Mark Lee,” he said, setting his glass on the coffee table so he could gesture more freely, “you mean to tell me you haven’t been up to anything of note since winter break?”

“I’m telling you man, I haven’t,” replied Mark, bouncing his way into the side of Yuta’s couch and pulling a startled face in response. A fit of tipsy giggles poured from Yuta, causing Mark to practically heave laughter.

“Okay, anyway,” continued Mark before anything else could throw him off. “It’s been midterms and stuff, so I’ve been really busy. That’s about all I can handle if I’m still gonna try to keep the radio slot Johnny left to me and I promised him I would! Some people sleep, you know.”

Yuta scoffed. “I sleep,” he said, reaching towards the table to take a swig of the herbal red liquid in his glass. “Anyway, point taken.”

“You really saw me at my wildest point, Yuta,” Mark said, sipping from his cider, “I’ve calmed down since senior spring. I was nervous about college and I let that get to me whenever I came to visit you. Now I’m adjusted; I’m a new man.”

Yuta did a little spin and found that it made him lightheaded. He chose to ignore that observation. “What have you done with the Markie I knew?” he joked, pouting. “It’s alright, I guess I just bring out the devil in you and you’ve gone soft now that I’m not around as much.”

Mark spluttered. “Yeah, dude, definitely. It’s all that dark magic and shit – total bad influence.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, nearly sending a knee into his table since he couldn’t see his legs for a moment. “Oh, shut up, that ‘dark magic’ stopped you from needing crutches after you turned your ankle playing drunk badminton of all things! Imagine explaining that to your parents. You should be thanking me.”

Mark took a performative bow, extending a leg and outstretching his arms as if he were a 17th century gentleman.

“Thank you, your majesty,” he said. “Although I seem to remember thanking you, like, a lot at the time.”

Yuta placed a hand over his chest. “That’s of little importance, Markie. Don’t you know a despot always needs his ego stroked?”

Mark looked at Yuta blankly. “A what?”

Yuta stopped dancing to stare in dramatic disappointment. “You’re kidding, right?”

Before Mark could answer (and Yuta knew, of course, that Mark had been dead serious), they were interrupted by the ringing of metal tapping against glass. Yuta turned around to find Donghyuck teetering on his bed, surrounded by Yuta’s other guests. He had a glass of something in one hand and a copper candle holder in the other, clearing his throat.

“Is this a toast?” yelled Yukhei.

“No,” Donghyuck replied, “this is a complaint. Yuta Nakamoto: I have a personal issue with you that needs redress.”

Yuta scoffed as all his friends snickered in his direction. “Alright, Hyuck, do tell.”

“I couldn't help noticing that Yukhei got back a week ago and you never threw him a party. Same goes for Kunhang!" The supposedly offended parties just stood below Donghyuck, apparently surprised by their friend's little interruption. Jaemin and Jeno stood next to them, grinning with their arms tangled around each other by the edge of the bed. Yuta could never see the two of them together without a near violent glee overcoming him at the thought that everything had worked out. “And! And, you can't even be bothered to tune into a single one of my Twitch streams! What's up with that? You’re obviously playing favorites!”

“Hey,” Yuta began in his defense, “I’m your friend, not your teacher. I’m allowed to have favorites. Get your own best friend.”

“Oh, so he admits it!”

“He’s just jealous you’ve been hogging Mark all night, Yuta,” Doyoung interjected, and everyone laughed save Donghyuck, who wheeled around to glare at the source of the interruption. He cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” Donghyuck continued, “In all seriousness, the reason everyone here agreed to attend this highly disrespectful event is because we love you, Mark, and we’re so happy you’re home. If your being away has taught me anything, it’s that I actually do miss your dumb face and accidentally genius sense of humor, but it’s also made me appreciate those things even more when we’re together. Don’t let Yuta keep you all to himself for the next two weeks because then I might have to challenge him to a duel, and we all know that wouldn’t end well for him.” Everyone tittered at that except Yuta, who just crossed his arms and tried to look dispassionate.

“Well, I should be concluding, but I think if anyone else has some thoughts for Mark – or for any of the college kids for that matter since they didn't get their own parties – you should express them now.”

The group gave Donghyuck a round of applause and he took a bow, wobbling dangerously as he jumped back to the cedar wood floor.

Next it was Taeyong’s turn. He stood where he was by Doyoung’s side rather than climb on the bed, clutching a cup in both hands and teasing Mark good-naturedly until he was a mortified mess against Yuta’s shoulder.

Kun went next, joking that he’d hired Jisung as his temporary delivery boy, so if Mark wanted to make any money over break, he’d need to scramble and get his shit together. He concluded by telling him not to let Yukhei talk him into too many keg-stands when they’re visiting each other. Mark shook his head like a madman, waving his hands wildly in front of him as if trying to dispossess his parents of a bad impression.

Jaehyun did get up on the bed, declaring that Mark is only in college once and should be allowed to make as many bad decisions as he wants, Kun . Yuta found himself wondering unwelcomely exactly what kind of Bad Decisions Mark was making without him around. As Jaehyun moved on to reminiscing about childhood days of cow-tipping, Yuta was suddenly seized by another bout of breathlessness. It hit him like the slap of cold water in a polar plunge and made him feel as though every bit of tissue in his body was encased in plaster. He tried to breath through it, but it only got more uncomfortable the harder he focused on the mechanics of his breathing. Sicheng had draped himself on his side over the bed, preparing to speak no doubt, but Yuta realized guiltily he would need to miss it. The coughing was starting in earnest.

Mark noticed. He leaned in towards Yuta, eyes wide in genuine concern.

“You okay, man?”

Yuta nodded, covering his mouth with his fist and holding up one finger to indicate he’d return in a moment. Then, he took off to the bathroom, the eyes of the group following him in discrete curiosity until Mark assured them all he thought Yuta was fine.

They probably just think I drank too much , he reasoned as he heaved over the sink. He felt like he had something stuck in his chest that needed to be hacked up, but nothing arrived no matter how much he coughed. After a few minutes of this, he stuck his head under the faucet and drank down as much water as he could manage, feeling whatever was stuck inside him being doused back down. His breathing shallowed, but at least he didn’t have a violent need to cough anymore. Suddenly, a terrifying thought hit him: if this was asthma, the potion he’d made earlier coupled with the prayer should have taken care of it. What was it, then?

He looked in the mirror as he heard Sicheng finishing up, the sound of his words filtering in through the bathroom door but not actually registering in Yuta’s brain as coherent ideas. He thought he looked fine; his skin didn’t have a sickly pallor and his gold-dyed hair didn’t look greasy or sparse. His eyes were a bit glassy, but Yuta attributed that to all the coughing and gagging he’d just put himself through. He grabbed a lavender potion his mom had made him from his medicine cabinet and pressed it into the pressure points on his head and neck, trying to breath deeply as he did so. He would ask her about it in the morning and surely, she’d know what to do.

When Yuta emerged, everyone was still milling around the bed, the quiet chatter that always signals the waning moments of a party setting in. Mark abruptly cut off his conversation with Donghyuck and bounded over to meet Yuta on his way to the group.

“Do you feel alright?” he asked, hushed, “we were about to send someone to check on you. Need me to do anything to help? You can direct me and I’ll make you a potion or something. It might not be as good as one of yours but if you’re too tired –”

Yuta forced a laugh, cutting off Mark’s cutely concerned ramble. “No, I’m fine, thanks though. I just felt a little nauseous for a minute there, but I’m good now.”

Mark nodded like a bobble head. “Oh, uh, okay. Cool. That’s actually probably good, you know. Now, you won’t get a hangover.”

“Yeah,” Yuta agreed, a pit forming in his stomach as he looked into Mark’s dark brown eyes. “Probably good.”

***

Yuta awoke about two hours later in his maroon upholstered armchair, one foot extended on his coffee table right next to the bluebell and sunflower bouquet he’d picked up what seemed like days ago by now. Most of the party had gone home, but Jaehyun and Kunhang were snoozing on the bed, Jeno and Jaemin shared whispers in the corner, and Mark lay across the sofa facing Yuta. Yuta stood, ready to cattle-prod people out of his room if he had to. He woke Jaehyun and Kunhang and extracted everyone from his room with as much decorum as he could muster, and once he’d made his way back to Mark, the boy had woken up from all the hushed thank-you’s and goodbyes. His glasses were askew, and he looked around the room the way people do when they wake up somewhere they don’t remember having fallen asleep.

“Oh, hey,” he said, voice scratchy. “Am I the last one?”

“Yeah,” Yuta confirmed, perching on the couch’s armrest, “but don’t worry about it. I saved you for last since you’re easiest to get home. Let me walk you?”

Mark giggled. “You don’t have to, it’s not like I could get lost.”

“I insist,” Yuta said, smiling firmly.

They walked, exhausted, from Yuta’s lawn to Mark’s, Yuta’s flip-flop-clad feet dampened by early morning dew cold enough to make him shiver.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, as they came to pause by the hedge between their families’ properties.

“I really did,” said Mark. “Thanks for getting everyone together on such short notice. I’m lucky to have a guy like you for a friend.” Mark smiled. Sunny , Yuta thought, like real warmth was hitting him.

“Same for me about you,” Yuta reciprocated, cringing silently at his awkward phrasing. Mark didn’t seem to notice.

“By the way,” Mark added, “I forgot to say anything, but I really like the blond hair.”

“Why thank you,” Yuta said, fidgeting side to side. “This color makes me think of summer. A lot of personal changes can happen in three months, you know. I’m still convinced I’ll get something interesting out of you, yet.” Mark guffawed as he took a step into his yard. “I mean, come on, Markie,” Yuta pressed, “not even a significant other or anything? You used to be a hot item.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dude,” Mark said, “and if you insist on prying into that, you’re only gonna be disappointed at the lack of anything to report.”

Yuta felt the air flow freely into his lungs for the first time in hours. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his best friend – or rather he hadn’t allowed himself to realize; probably because the realization hurt. Yuta’s four years away had been a struggle, but eight was seeming like borderline cruelty.

“Fine,” Yuta offered, “I’ll not pry, then. Let’s do something tomorrow, hm? I have work but we can meet up after.”

“Sounds good.”

“Goodnight.”

“’Night. Thanks again, Yuta.” Mark started the rest of the way towards his house as Yuta waved him off.

“It was nothing.”

Yuta tidied up a bit and got ready for bed, checking his almost dead phone before turning the light off. 3:42 in the morning, oh dear . Below the time was a short message from Mark. “ Btw I liked the flowers in ur room. Might get some tomorrow from ty .”

Yuta stifled a cough.

***

Yuta woke up the next morning gasping. He was sure the only reason his body had jolted him to sitting was because he’d stopped breathing in his sleep and it was a last-ditch effort to save him. Once he’d gathered himself and gotten mostly ready for the day, he sat at his table to do a quick tarot reading. He shuffled his art deco set against the coffee table surface, then brought them back into a deck, settling for a one-card reading since his tired and confused mind begged him for simplicity. He took the top card in the deck and flipped it over. It was the ace of cups, reversed, the image showing an orange goblet ringed by water lilies around its base and crowned by rays of sunlight shining off the rim. All of it, upside-down.

Self-love, intuition, repressed emotions … Yuta rattled off the card’s associations in a slow attempt not to be concerned by its imagery. Self-love, intuition, repressed emotions… “repressed emotions” kept jumping out at him when he landed upon it. Something about that made him uneasy. Was he repressed? He took the deepest breath he could muster and slotted the cards back in their case, figuring this hunch would grow clearer the longer he lived with it. He had to be at work soon, but wanted to ask his mom for advice about the breathing situation before he headed out, so he grabbed his soccer bag and rushed down the stairs. The skylight above them revealed nothing but a grey sky.

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years ago

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Parental Bonding: Chivalry

S01-E02, part 2 of 2: Trying to keep his dad from embarrassing him while facing off against a teenage girl in dragon form keeps Danny on his toes.

Last time on Living Phantom

“I don't understand why I have to wear this stupid thing,” Danny’s dad complained as his mom adjusted his tie.

The two were standing in the kitchen preparing for the Spring Formal. His dad was in his normal hazmat suit, though with a tie around his neck while his mom wore a black dress. Jazz stood nearby in her own dress, checking her purse. Danny was next to her, tugging at his own tie and occasionally glancing down at his phone.

“Because it's Danny's first big dance, Jack,” his mom answered. “If we're gonna chaperone this thing, we have to make sure we don't embarrass him.”

“How would we embarrass him?”

Jazz and Danny shared a quick look before their mom turned to them and came over to fix Danny’s tie as well.

“I think it's great when you guys do anything that doesn't have something to do with your sick obsession with ghosts,” Jazz said pointedly.

“Funny,” their dad said, eyes narrowed. “I don't even remember volunteering to chaperone the dance. It's all a vague blur.”

Danny’s shoulders crept up and he tried to push his mom’s hands away.

“By the way, Danny, just so you know, I'm on to your little secret.”

Danny jerked backward, nearly choking himself as his mom was still holding his tie. “What?! Wh-what secret?”

“The clumsiness, the nervousness. I can't believe I didn't figure it out before. You have a girlfriend!”

“I can expl-I-I mean, she's not my girlfriend. She's just going to the dance with me.”

“That's great!” their dad cheered, wrapping an arm around Jazz. “I can meet her and talk to her about ghosts!”

Jazz rolled her eyes and pushed his arm off so she could adjust her hair. “You better let her know your family's insane now, Danny. If you marry her and she finds out later, that's entrapment.”

The doorbell rang and Danny sighed with relief. “That’s Sam and Tucker. I’ll see you guys at the dance.”

Jazz took that as her opening and grabbed her purse. “I should get going too if I’m going to pick up Michelle and Robin in time.”

As Danny and Jazz slipped into the living room, he thought, Okay, so I'm gonna have to keep Paulina calm and keep my dad from embarrassing me. I can handle that.

He patted where the Fenton Ghost Fisher was hidden inside his jacket in its collapsed form then opened the door.

“Mr. Fenton,” a man in a suit greeted him. “I’m Donald. I’ll be your driver tonight.”

“Uh…” Danny looked past the man to see a limo -- a luxury stretch limo -- parked at the curb. One of the windows was rolled down to show a waving Tucker. “Right, thanks.”

He glanced up at Jazz as he followed the driver to see her staring at the car, floored. The driver opened the door and Danny slipped inside.

“Dude.”

“I know!”

“I thought you said Sam’s parents were taking us.”

“I thought that’s what she meant. I didn’t think she was going shell out for a limo!”

“There are sodas and juice in the mini fridge,” Donald said as he got in and started the limo.

“It’s all included,” Tucker said, grabbing an open soda from his cup holder.

Danny glanced at Donald, who nodded in the mirror. He grabbed a clear soda just in case he spilled then slid over to sit next to Tucker.

“You ready for your dragon date?”

Danny elbowed a snickering Tucker with a glare. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Uh-huh, sure buddy.”

Danny elbowed him again and Tucker elbowed him back.

The two chuckled and shoved each other until they pulled up next to Paulina’s house.

“Good luck,” Tucker teased, patting Danny on the back as Donald opened the door for him.

Danny flipped him off then headed up to ring the doorbell.

What to say? The heirloom idea is stupid. Maybe he could say it belonged to someone else? Someone like…

The door opened and Danny looked up. And up.

He blanched as he looked up into the angry face of a tall, muscular man. Nervously, he said, “Uh, hi! Uh, you must be Paulina's dad.”

“If you upset her, we're going to have a violent talk,” the man said, punching his palm.

“Papa?”

Danny blushed as Paulina stepped out from behind her father. Her curly hair had been straightened and half pulled up with a large glittering clip that was a soft pink color to match her dress.

It made the gold and green collar stand out all the more.

She smiled at him. “You're scaring him. Come on, Danny. We're going to be late.”

“Have a wonderful evening, baby.” Her dad kissed her cheek, then gave Danny a death glare. “I know where you live.”

“And I'm glad we had a chance to chat,” he chuckled weakly as Paulina took his arm.

She gasped as they turned to the street. “You got a limo?”

“Yeah, well Sam did,” he said, opening the door for her. “I-I thought we could all go together.”

“Hey, Paulina,” Tucker said a little breathlessly.

“There are drinks in the fridge,” Danny added as he got in and she grabbed a sparkling water.

“It’s nice,” she said once they were on the road again. “Really nice. How did she afford something like this?”

Danny frowned at her tone, but shrugged it off. “Her parents must have lent her the money.”

Paulina hummed disbelievingly.

He turned to Tucker, who clearly didn’t get it either. Yeah, it was a limo, but it couldn’t have been that expensive, right?

They pulled up to Sam’s house and Tucker got out, looking grouchy.

Danny focused on Paulina, giving her a smile. “You look really nice, by the way. I meant to say earlier, but your dad, uh…”

She chuckled and pat his hand. “That’s okay. I know I look nice, silly. It’s me!”

He nodded and glanced out the window.

His jaw dropped.

Sam stood on the stoop in the same black and purple gothic medieval dress that she’d been looking at when they’d gone shopping -- no way her parents bought that, he knew she wanted to come -- with artful dark purple makeup to match. Her hair was braided up her head then pulled into a flower-like bun on the top while roses had been shaved into the short side of her head.

She smiled at Tucker before pulling him down the steps.

A throat cleared behind Danny and he turned to see Paulina glaring at him. Her eyes were a bright red with slit pupils.

“S-sorry,” he said, raising his hands. “It’s just, uh, weird to see her all dressed up like that.”

“Your right,” she snorted. “She does look weird. What’s up with that dress?”

A frown tugged at his mouth, but her eyes had gone back to normal so he forced himself to keep smiling. “Right.”

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Sam glanced around the gym thoughtfully. She was about to ask Tucker if he wanted to dance, just to give them something to do, when she spotted Paulina standing on her own. “Where’d Danny go?”

“What?” Tucker followed her gaze. “Maybe he went to get snacks?”

“Do you think it's safe to leave her alone.”

He smiled. “Well, I could always -”

“Tucker, Sam, we've got trouble.”

The two looked up to see Danny’s dad standing over them.

“We had nothing to do with it, Mr. Fenton. It was all Danny's idea.”

“Tucker, it's me. It's Danny,” their friend in his dad’s body huffed. “Sam, you need to keep an eye on Paulina. Text me if she starts looking angry. Tucker, watch my dad just in case I need to go deal with Paulina. If he starts talking to anyone, text me, got it?”

They both nodded and he left.

“This dance gets better and better with every passing minute,” Sam snorted and followed after Paulina.

It only took a few minutes before the popular girl started looking annoyed and Sam sent Danny a quick text before trailing after her into the bathroom. She hesitated in the doorway a moment before pasting on a smile and stepping in. “Hey, Paulina. I should have said before, but that's a nice dress.”

“Yes, and it goes so nicely with your necklace, don't you think?” the other girl asked, turning to her with a smirk.

Sam frowned. “My necklace? That's not my -- Right! Listen, my grandma gave me that, and -”

“Forget it, sweetie. I'm not giving up this trinket or your little boyfriend Danny.”

“My boyfriend?” Sam choked. “Haha! And they say pretty girls can't be funny. Danny is not my boyfriend.”

“He's not?”

Sam rolled her eyes. She and Danny had known each other since kindergarten. She’d slept beside him at a time when they could still share a room for sleepovers. She’d comforted him after he found out about his father. She’d been there when his family had gotten back from two years in California and he tried to convince the few middle school classmates they had that knew him in elementary school that he’d actually always been a boy and they were misremembering. She was the one to threaten those who didn’t buy it to keep quiet. She’d held his hand when he’d nearly begged their seventh grade English teacher to call him Danny, not Daniel, because it sounded too close to Danielle.

Sure he was cute -- especially when his hair fell into his face just right or when he and Tucker would let her put some makeup on them for Dumpty Humpty concerts -- and his ghost form was really sick looking, but they weren’t like that.

“He's my best friend. Maybe that's why I was so hard on you. I didn't mean to call you shallow.”

Paulina laughed. “What a bummer! I only agreed to go out with him because I thought I was stealing him from you.”

Sam froze, barely noticing as Paulina took off the collar and put it on her. She had… She had… to DANNY? Danny, who was too sweet for his own good and…

“Here, take your crummy necklace. I'm going back inside to dump your dorky friend.”

Sam’s fists clenched as she felt a blazing heat flow through her. How dare she? HOW DARE SHE!

“Shallow little witch!” she roared and everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was grabbing a couple glasses of punch when he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out of his dad’s pocket to see Sam had texted him.

🕷Sammy-kins : Your dates ticked and heading to the bathroom.

Me: OMW

He opened a new message and texted Tucker.

Me: Going to deal with Paulina. Watch my dad

🎮TuckNo: 👍🏾

He slipped out of his dad and grabbed his phone. Invisibly, he flew over the gym, heading for the bathrooms. He tucked his phone into the pocket inside his jacket.

He paused as its weight disappeared the moment his hand left it.

He reached back into the pocket and his eyes widened as his hand kept going. “Oh my god, it’s a literal pocket dimension!” he whispered, pulling his jacket open so he could look inside. He reached in again, this time purposefully trying to grab his phone.

He found it immediately.

“Oh man, wait until I tell Tucker! Also, note to self, stick a thermos in here, just in case.”

A roar sounded, just barely audible over the music, and Danny’s eyes widened. He dropped down behind a trash can near the bathroom and transformed back.

“Paulina? Sam?” he called into the bathroom. When no one answered, he checked that everyone was looking away then slipped inside.

His eyes widened as he saw the destroyed wall and ceiling. He grabbed the fisher out of his pocket and turned back into a ghost. Once the fisher was stored in his -- Poltergeist Pocket? Pocket of Holding? Spectral Space? Yeah, that one! -- Spectral Space, he flew out to see the blue dragon soaring over the football field. Eyes narrowing as he saw the form held in her claws, he shot towards her and kicked her to the ground.

“Take it easy, Paulina. You don't want to hurt Sam,” he said, landing in front of the dragon. He looked at the girl and frowned when he realized Sam wasn’t the hostage. “Paulina?” He turned to the dragon as she opened her eyes to glare at him. “Sam?”

“Shallow girl!” she roared, standing.

“Yep, that's Sam.” He rolled to the side to avoid her fire. “Whoa! Sam! Two words: breath mints.”

He flew up to free Paulina, but Sam’s tail slammed into them the moment he got her free. They were knocked towards the bleachers and Danny turned them intangible before they could hit. Instead, they landed in front of the fence, spooking a kissing couple into fleeing. Danny set down Paulina just as his phone went off.

🎮TuckNo: Your dads heading towards lancer

Great, one short-term fix, coming up. Danny dove into the ground and came up behind the dragon. “I hate to do this, Sam.” He grabbed her tail then pulled her off the ground, swinging her around until he built up some force. He let her go and she flew off into the distance. “Heh, I made a dragonfly.” His eyes widened. “Oh, man. Dad!”

He bolted down into the gym and looked around. He spotted his dad standing over Mr. Lancer with a fierce glare and quickly dove into the jumpsuits man.

“Jack, this is Mr. Lancer from the parent-teacher conference,” his mom was saying, the second half in a whisper.

“Right, right. I'm sorry, it's just in this light I thought you were Vin Diesel. Isn't he sharp, Mom? I mean, Maddie,” Danny stuttered, trying to make his voice as low as possible.

He wasn’t sure if he was the only one who heard his normal voice, it seemed like it, but just in case.

“Well… Thank you,” Mr. Lancer chuckled.

“Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to dance with my wife. That's what we adults do, dance with our wives.” Danny grabbed his mom’s hand and led her onto the dance floor.

He briefly wondered if he should dance normally or like a parent, but then just danced like himself.

He was trying to make sure his dad didn’t embarrass him, after all.

His mom sighed. “Doesn't this bring back memories?”

“If by memories you mean things you remember that I don't, then yes! Go ahead and remind me of stuff. I'll totally agree to remembering.” Smooth.

The song ended and Danny blinked as his fellow students started cheering for him.

Well, that’s one thing down.

He slipped out of his dad and flew back out of the gym.

Just in time, it seemed, as Sam was quickly approaching the school. He dove around the fireballs she shot at him and reached into his pocket. He brought out the fisher and extended it. He arced around another fireball as he swung the line towards her, catching it on one of the scales near her wing. Then he started circling her, dodging her tail and fire until he had her wings bound in the glowing wire.

As it turned out, ghost dragons did, in fact, need their wings to fly.

Or maybe it was just a mind thing? She did seem to hover for a few seconds and Danny stood by his assessment that those wings couldn’t support her weight on their own. If it was just a mental thing then -

Focus!

Sam dropped to the ground and Danny landed next to her neck. As soon as he pulled the necklace off, she shrunk down into herself. He stuck both the necklace and rewound fisher in his Spectral Space then ran up to Sam, transforming as he went. “Sam? Are you alright?”

“Wow,” Sam said, sitting up and holding her head like she had a headache. “Did I have fun at the dance?”

“Well, uh… Let's just say you had a roaring time.” She gave him a look and he blushed. “You somehow got the dragon necklace on you and, well, I think you can put the pieces together.”

“Paulina,” Sam growled.

“Yeah, sounded like she did something,” Danny said, helping her to her feet.

Sam opened her mouth, then closed it. She stared at him for a moment then shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Come on, I think you owe me a dance.”

He smiled. “Sure, I'd love to.”

“Promise me you'll keep your pants up.”

“I'll do my best.”

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

“So how long until your parents get back?” Sam asked as Danny let them into his house.

“Mom said they had to stay until the end of the dance, so another half hour at least,” Danny said.

“I can’t believe I still ended up dateless,” Tucker huffed. “Couldn’t you have at least ditched Paulina in a way that left her open for me to swoop in for the rebound?”

“I didn’t ditch Paulina,” Danny denied.

“She ditched him,” Sam said.

“Yeah, when she came back into the gym to find you two dancing,” Tucker snorted. “She looked ready to breathe fire even without the amulet.”

“I didn’t see her,” Danny worried as he pushed open the door to the lab stairs. “Should we have waited for her? We were her ride.”

“Nah, she took off with Dash right after. Some A-lister afterparty. No worries,” Tucker said. “Anyways, what are you going to do about the amulet? Just chuck it through the portal?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe -”

Danny paused and his friends leaned down to look over his shoulder.

Floating in the lab was a green-skinned ghost with long blonde hair and an electric blue medieval dress. She looked like she had been searching for something, but stopped when they came in.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Danny said, eyeing her and trying to push his friends back.

“My amulet! I must return with my amulet,” she wailed, tears in her eyes as she stood up from her crouched position. “But it’s nowhere to be found!”

Danny nodded. “You were the original dragon ghost, right? The one who wanted to go to the ball.”

She sniffled and nodded. “And you are the knight who fought me off.”

“Right.” Danny transformed and dug into his Spectral Space.

Danny didn’t see her eyes go wide, but Sam and Tucker did. “I thought I had imagined it,” they saw her whisper.

“Here,” Danny said, holding out the necklace. “You can take it, but only if you agree to go straight back where you came from. Deal?”

“Of course. I must return to my brother. I’ve been gone for far too long, but I needed my amulet.”

Danny hesitated. “Your brother, was he the one that hurt you?”

She took the necklace from him and put it on. “Thank you, Sir Knight.”

“It’s Danny. Uh, Danny… Phantom. You didn’t ans-”

“Thank you, Sir Phantom,” she said, giving a curtsy, then flew into the portal.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Danny sighed. “I hope she’s okay.”

“She can turn into a giant dragon, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Tucker said.

“Sure, except the legend says her brother can do the same,” Sam pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.”

The three watched the portal for a moment before Danny pulled the fisher out of his Spectral Space and tossed it on the table. “Come on, there’s nothing we can do. Let’s go get changed and turn on some movies.”

They agreed and the three trudged upstairs, their earlier post-battle excitement lost.

“Danny Phantom?” Sam said.

“I panicked. Besides, it’s kind of a pun. Phantom, Fenton.”

“You're a ghost called ghost,” Tucker snorted.

“Shut up, I’ll come up with something better.”

“Nope.”

“You’re Danny Phantom now.”

“No takebacks.”

“I hate you both.”

“Love you too, dude.”

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the late posting. I had to take my mom to the doctor's yesterday and didn't get a chance to post until it was too late. Next chapter should be on time as usual.

#danny phantom #parental bonding #sam manson #tucker foley #dora #living phantom

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jmcfarlane · 4 years ago

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DRONE3

DRONe3

.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øØ³=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane• Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption. LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.) Perverts Dictionary (O_o))))))))))))) Trilateral — jinx No doubt — yes, super Doble- adorable, dobles, adobles Straight up — forthrightly, correct, right, or goof Throwing babies makes them gay Avant garde — protect the old (art) stay the same Downtown, — quiet not ratting Technology — rewind/splice mp3 interchangable Right up — shooting up Not up — free (not in trouble) Word — “my promise” new word, yes Naw — ya goof / no Buzz out — use vibrator / get high Drone- parapsychological anomalie Phe — speed (methanphetamenes) Stellar — awsum / the sun / single thing Figure — shape (claivoiance) One — god / goof Out-gay or leaving No doubt — ur gay / im gay. (For sure (im a whore)) straight up In — a goof out “my thing ‘ — claivoiant animation (repeated) Pentagon/circuit — terrific Duality — love or contrast in nature Straight — not gay or no drugs Up-in torouble/retarded/fucked Goof — crazy p/pedophile / molester/rapist/asshole Pervert-whore/hooker Asshole-incessant talker(mean) Solid-honest reliable Ethereal — heavely, sticky, Bird- girl pervert , moron Badass-pervert/violent, missile Idiot –saying nething Toad- smaker (heavy) old vagina A hard — a stiffy Eh eh- turning vol down and then up to trick parents in the 70s in quebec Bonhome — dildo, goof, good man Ein — get in /out (here) goof (French) ass hole/vagina Institution/church shouting= good Tabernacle-chest Coalis-chalise Zeut-fuck Fuck- rape/damnet or sex Stomping — raping Bang out- beat on Beat up — gay kids trying to get their frieing off violently Rank out — make someone stink by working them or hurting them / cast someone out canadian military style (gay) , gang up on someone till they freak out (psychopaths do it all over Canada)’ Trast- drunk /party/water Dai-morning, cool, fun, ausum, hello! Good-goof Story along-paranormal happening involving ancestral memory Psychic-all in one, prophet telepath Telepathic — mind to mind talker, thinker Telekinetic- moving things/ ppl Claivoiance- seeing colour from other ppls minds Rod-skyfish/fast moving anomaly animal Vaj-old or young vagina Oss — dog or baby vagina Grandma- bag in tree Candy — transsexual My honey — sexy (on the wind(throwing laughter(female))) Beating off — complex Wacking off-pervert Jerking off — solid (female) Move-walk / go Mullet-militia Freak –goof (black word) Ca — crap — crow call Germ freak-someone who forces germs on ppl Quay-(beautiful woman (cunt) — woman) latin Mead-morphene Rin — heroin (dust / cookie crumble) Beans — speed pills Rids — Ritalin No shit- of course Jib-meth Hellfire — run off meth (bad) Food — crack Molly-mdma /e Bombs — ecstacy cid — Acid (lsd) shrooms-magic mushrooms sterl — brother (little) afgan weed — brown pot kife — bad weed (shake) leaves) shibby — cool/goof cool-gay/awsum fade white — see white on od (heroin/mescelin(go to heaven/hell)) road — freedom — out of institution the suck — mescalin myth ast — perversion telekinetic- asty sortof meta/physical movement from the brain outwardly god — goof — one or christ lady stink — female deodorant leave it — shirt on chest (gay /bi) stop it hiboit gland — make you fat cured with amricain medicine merican — goof citizen of America Canadian- a sovereign citizen of Canada (incestewous clown) Were done — end releationship British — gay mongerers Nono –nig mistake Famished — thirsty / starved Sent — innocent Pervert — to change something and make it last nothing — absence, bipolar universai — multiple universes psykinetics — telepathy / telekinetics/claivoiance geniupsy — psykinetic offspring genius — generating new thought (brilliant) bipolar- up and down serotonin and dopamine, psychopath — violent person sociopath — not caring about neone oppositional defiant — opposing help borderline personality — victim misbehaving schitzophrenic — high fixed dopamine, fixed seretonin (normal)\ drone — unpiloted airplane, good worker, artist , schitzophrenic dick — enlarged clitoris get out of here — come here little child aced — gay men trying to get pregnant, daughter , sqaired away k — ketamine ass — dad/grandfather hun — little stut( skank) brecky — greek (breakfast) supper — jewish (Dinner) brecko — Italian (breakfast) avatar — ethereal image of oneself asshole — girl or boy or rapist (north bay / Chicago)\ goof — sad or sexy ethereal image from shame can be cured with desensitization (knumbaning) (telepathic) ya — pedophile dude — black pedophile Italian cowboy, fake doctor (candadian) huffin — pretending to be someone else while using telekinteicks in a sexual fashion. sadomasochist — paingiver/enjoyer earphoning — hearing ppl in ypur speaker — hold speaker up to ear and hand over other ear, psychopaths recommendation pur — rapist/pervert uggz — ug;y phile — pedophile ace — gays — rape — sister — grandma-brother path — telepath or a psychopath/sociopath, can — male whore cop- fake police (pedophile) musac — music laid — losing virginity glowie — acid victims (creep) ente old stupid goof dex — cough syrup bed down — tie to bed (north bay) fuck right off — screw my girlfriend\ fuck off — go cop the u- universe no shit — definitely mangina — friend spect-respect right up — repect straight up — disguise Italian — scot Adisguzi — disgusting excuse me No shit- really? Love — goodbyek“love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless, voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement, and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life) Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce. Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash, for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.) my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up, A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature, while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind

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