#just fine but my anxiety brain is telling me that im just fabricating this all in my head and im actually dead irl

[sti11dreaming]

October 10 2019

“I thought I’d die if I ran like crazy. It left me breathless and it was painful but I didn’t die. People don’t die so easily.” - pieta in the toilet 

It seems like certain behaviors hold a monopoly over mental illness. If you don’t act in the way that mainstream media portrays anxiety, depression, or any other mental illness you’re not suffering, and therefore aren’t worthy enough to receive the support you so desperately need. In my experience, mental illness is supposed to be loud and obvious, not silent and deceiving. This creates a complex dilemma for someone like me. I’ve learned to cry in quiet corners, and hide anxiety behind delayed deadlines and minimal human contact. Some days, it takes me an extra 30 minutes to get out of bed, because my depression is telling me there’s no point in doing so. Other days, my anxiety tells me that if I get up I’m going to ruin some major aspect of my life anyway, so it’s safer to stay under the covers. When these two come together it feels like a brick trying to break its way through my chest.

I can recall a time when my grievances were easier to read from an outsider’s perspective.

I had endured similar conversations before, but it was in that moment where I learned my feelings could be interpreted as a nuisance or even a threat to those who were supposed to be helping me. If I wanted to be taken seriously, or have my feelings deemed valid, I’d have to fight like hell for it. Fifteen-year-old me didn’t have the energy for that. And sixteen-year-old me not only doesn’t have the time but is keenly aware that she shouldn’t have to fight for same basic human decency that is so easily given to other girls; girls who are viewed as more fragile, and more deserving of that extra care. Somehow their mental illness is more legitimate than mine because it can be heard from miles.

Mine is quieter and unsure of itself, not sure if what im going through is an actual affront to my health or if the problem is too much of an anomaly to garner attention, or worse, it could make people think i’ve fabricated the whole thing. That is why I tend to keep my feelings to myself now. I don’t want to go through the humiliation of justifying my emotions to someone again. Sometimes, I am okay with this. Considering that I feel ok being alone, and I usually prefer to be left alone.

Let's say that I know I am not a...easy person. Sometimes I don't talk for days, and when I talk it's just to argue over my existence and I don't care about anyone.I just want people to understand that I’m not a happy person. I’m sad most of the time. Sadly hopeful, sadly peaceful, sadly in love and sadly alive but I’m not really broken, yet. Sometimes I feel that I am damaged, but I really am not. I’ve recreated myself into this person, and I’m okay with what I see. Sometimes I see me when someone says something nice for something I wrote, or sometimes I see me when my mother is happy, or my brother talks with me, but I’ve never seen myself in anyone else’s eyes and feel like I’m going to be sadly okay for the rest of my life. That’s kind of what love is for me.

However, I still don’t believe my silence makes my mental illness any less severe than someone who’s more vocal about theirs.The other day my sister asked me why I always act so anxious. She said I need to stop. I wanted to tell her that it's not how it is. But I ended up crying silently because no one would believe the reasons why my brain starts shutting down all of sudden. It's a lengthy process. She maybe too thinks that I've been fabricating things all the way down there and maybe,I no longer want to fight against their words.But when it hurts ; I know it's real.

The way my depression manifests itself is the why I still check on my friends, even when it seems like they’re fine. Mental illness doesn’t look the same for everyone. You can’t always gauge how bad someone’s situation is by how angry or happy they “look.”Anxiety isn’t always someone shaking or not being able to breathe, and depression isn’t restricted to someone sobbing in the middle of the street. These things can look detached, it can be taking an hour or four to reply back to a text. I know I have trouble with asking for help, and that makes it difficult for the people who care about me to give me the support I need. They don't understand anyway. I’m trying really hard but I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when it really does.

I don’t like writing anymore. I’m tired. I have empathy for everyone but me.

Yet, I’m allowing myself to feel my sadness and anger. It’s supposed to heal me they said, I’ve never been in so much pain. My brain feels like it’s failing me. It doesn’t work. I wish people didn’t die. My mind is full of “I wish”s and “what if”s. That’s probably why I’m so anxious.

The past ten months have been rough. Of course I’m depressed , devastated and deranged .I’m still trying to figure out how everything went wrong so fast. I just sit in my room, and stare at the wall, and I can see myself getting worse day by day, and I’m just so freaking exhausted. I don’t even know if I'm breathing. I feel as if I'm lying under a trash pile. I am the garbage everyone wants out. Nothing is alright anymore.i feel so fucking alone and disgusting .It’s OK to be sad. But I can’t let go of the guilt I’ve attached to it. I fight with myself a lot. My life is going really well despite everything that’s happened. My depression is selfish. At least that’s what my brain is telling me. That’s what makes me so upset.

People tell me all of the time that suicide is a long term solution to a temporary problem. The only issue I have with this is that my mind isnt temporary.

I do not really know whether I have survived. My inner self has shut itself up more and more. As though to protect itself, it has become inaccessible to me.

Writing this is not as cathartic as I want it to be. After not being able to cope up with anything for months, you’d think I’d have something interesting to say. I can’t hear or see any of my accomplishments. Everything is really flat at the moment. I’m not miserable, but I don’t feel like I’m here in the world. is the world even for me? I ask this question every hour because I progressively feel less safe as each day passes .

I’ve been dealing with some really weird problem for almost three years now, and every time I tried to talk with my family they’d brush it off as an exaggeration. I never got to see a kind and competent person who took all of my complaints seriously and did everything in their power to figure out what the problem was. No one who quelled my fears and let me know that what I’m going through isn’t anywhere near fatal or serious, but I need to take better care of myself.That kept changing my attitude immensely towards my family increasing the distance , and I think I'm tired of being with them. I value human Human connection before anything. I don't care if it's the blood.

I've started feeling more claustrophobic than ever. At some point, I want to isolate myself from everyone.i want to run away from everything as my anxiety has never been extinguished, my mental health that's never been looked after. On top of that I'm already having some really odd symptoms, carrying around this fear of having some serious disappointment issues which was keeping from getting so much stuff done. I wish I could bring myself to happy.

I’ve been living in my own bubble for the past few weeks, trying as hard as I can to focus on my schoolwork because I’m constantly worrying that I won’t pass my exams. This worry intensified when I got my mock results and I got an F. I am still trying somehow.

When in actuality, I feel like I’m dying inside constantly and I only look serious because I don’t feel comfortable around most of my peers.They are always looking down on me for a certain reason.The girls who talk with me sometimes act like I'm an extra person who's ruining their mood at lunch time. I saw them making disgusting faces at my self harm scars . Probably thinking something embarrassing and unrelated to me. I told them it's cat scratches and laughed loudly. I was the only one laughing in the room.So I have decided to wander alone at the lunch hour. I feel like a fool.I sit in the back of the class. Mostly, alone. It has never been because I don't know what I'm doing. Even if that's true. It has never been cause I'm a bad student. Whether or not I am, it has only been cause I don't want to be seen. I don't want their glares to consume me. It's been already so much painful. I cry like rain in the spring so they evaporate into the sleepy mistake easily. That's why I'm in the back of the class, behind everyone cause every single task I try to do, every second of reading chemical revolution and for every math I should be solving faster; I'm sorry I'm struggling. I feel so much self pity at most of the point that I just want to end myself and end it all. I wish they could know that my favourite movie is Willy Wonka chocolate factory but they prejudge me so I guess they’ll continue to assume that I’m so serious that sometimes I feel like no one is real. Lately I've realized that it's always a better option, instead of telling someone how tragic I feel, I put in headphones and load myself with studies and try to keep away from crying. But that made me cry even more. I always had snitches and had a hard time trying to keep a secret that- I'm hurt, I'm depressed, so I read my global studies loud ; but in the end all I want to do is to burn this pages , take off this painting of pretending and tell every single person I met that, I am not alright.

Crying doesn't release the burden from my chest anymore. If I'm not hurting myself, I'm hurting everyone around me.

My face melts away a little more each time I pass a mirror. I’m scared of the day I’ll look at it and see nothing staring back. I’ve remembered how to cry again, but now I just do it because I’m scared. The scar on my left arm, a muffled chord progression, the bottle of antiseptic under my be - I know I didn’t make them up, I wouldn’t know how to. But they’re gone all the same and I don’t want my mind to paint itself a liar. It scares me every time I search the pages just to find new holes torn in them. If my mother didn’t say that, why do those words ache? If I’ve never heard that story, why do I know the ending? I’m trying to commit myself to memory before both my mind and body complete their vanishing act. I need to know that even if I forget a little more of myself every day, that someone will think of me. Tell me I’m funny, crazy, anything - have an opinion of me so I can cry a little bit every time about having succeeded in the act of being here. I’ve learned that you can’t disappear if people love you, so I’ll do anything for anyone. I break bits off of myself and give them to whoever needs me most. No matter how exhausting they are to take care of. People with rarity and broken hearts ; they can keep my memories far safer than anyone can.

I was in battle with my mind during all of my final exams. Sometimes, with a song that just wouldn’t get out of my head as I tried to focus on the VERY important task at hand. Other times, it was trying to stop the intrusive thoughts that screamed horrible things in my head. During my math final, I couldn’t figure out something very simple and my brain decided to remind me that these are the grades colleges look at. I started panicking about not getting into any college at all, which caused me to have to take a break to prevent myself from crying. Which caused me to have less time to finish the test. Which made me panic even more.

Finals week has pushed me to the absolute limit. I am not a test score, and from now on I’m not going to treat myself like one.

I hope one day I'll stop mourning about my past and myself.I hope I'll be able to let go the guilt of being a person no one wanted me to be. But does this make any sense yet?

My god, what an absolutely...shattering experience it’s been. It’s left me with such profoundly stupid questions like...who the fuck am I? Why does this hurt so much? How can I make it stop? And the best question of all, does it even fucking matter? ”

[dolls-self-ships]

hey guys, I've been having a hard time lately and it's really hitting me hard today, would any of y'all mind maybe dropping a comforting message in my inbox? Could be from an f/o or just you I don't mind either way, I just need to feel like I'm not alone right now ;-;

[xiaq]

Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 18

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: (fun fact i wrote this listening to beautiful ghosts which i have now formally induced into the fanfic’s playlist bc im a nerd who rly likes soft music) this is probably my longest chapter, yay me for writing a long one. hope you guys enjoy it xx

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Y/N looked at her reflection on the golden mirror standing in front of her. She studied the features she always saw in her own mirrors, the same face, the same eyes, same nose and same lips, however the reflection staring back at her was somehow different, similar to those renaissance paintings of mythical female sirens, goddesses, princesses and other deities. She had her once free flowing hair in a hellenic up-do filled with various flowers and a gold like chain intertwined with one of her brains. A few perfectly curled ringlets fell to frame her face which was still makeup free from last night, with a blossoming red tint on her upper cheeks. 

She was dressed in a garment made of two parts, a linen white tunic and a clock held together by an ornamental claps with Hecate’s torch insignia at the shoulders and a light pink sash at the waist. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would think of her clothing. When she was younger, she would religiously dress as a Greek Goddess for Halloween yet nothing she’d worn compared to what she looked right now. 

Minthe had been silent throughout most of it, sometimes even giving her judgmental looks whenever she questioned about the fabrics and flowers being used to adorn her. She didn’t completely blame her for doing such things, deities were only found of mortals for two things: war and procreation. It didn’t take long for her to return to the gardens, being placed in front of Hecate who was commanding her maidens like a captain on a ship. 

      - Do you know anything about gardening? - she looked down on the mortal dressed in deity clothing, which she had to admit, seemed to fit her better than the cheap satin piece she was wearing. 

       - I can manage. - Y/N rubbed her hands out of anxiety when talking to one of the goddesses of the Underworld. 

       - Well, pick something and get to work. - Hecate pointed aimlessly towards the groves and their dying flora. Y/N heart tightened at seeing the muddy green colour that the plants had beginning to take, a stark contrast to the lively, colourful flora of its surroundings. Her eyes locked on a particular rose bush whose roses were brownish white, some of its petals constantly falling to the ground whenever the slight summer breeze hit it. She took it upon herself to tend to it, walking over the to wilting bush and sitting gracefully on the grace, hands softly touching the dead flowers which she once imagined to have been the most beautiful flowers.

Y/N decided to take care of the flowers the way she took care of her little plants back in her flat. She started by getting rid of the dead leaves, carefully pulling them from the branches and onto the floor, trimming it to the best she could possible manage. Y/N kept on trimming, eventually reading the thorny white roses, some which were just in desperate need of water and others which were past the point of no return. She directed her attention to those, pulling a few out and onto her robes until a specific one found itself a challenge. The young girl extended her hand deeper into the rose bush, pulling the flower at its base, finding it rather hard to pull it from the branch. She kept on pulling and the flower eventually gave up, detaching from its base and sticking one of its thrones deep into her thumb. She let go of a tiny wince, not wanting to bother the other maidens. 

Carefully, Y/N removed the thorn from the flower, throwing it forcefully on the ground before turning her thumb so she could face it. It had a tiny wound, so tiny that if she hadn’t known it was there, she would’ve never realised it was there. However, it was bleeding heavily, the scarlet liquid dripping and running from her skin to the green grass nearby the bush, staining it the same colour as the liquid. 

She sucked on her thumb, mindlessly dabbing it against her clothing and returning to get rid of everything that did not belong to a healthy plant. Y/N was so into her craft she didn’t notice James returning to the Elysium. He watched her from afar, her lips and nose crunched as she inspected the rose bush with a might which in his mind was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. 

      - Did you discover anything? - Hecate walked up to the God of the Underworld, curious for any developments. 

      - We are not entirely sure of who stole the pomegranate but we did discover her friend is an oracle. - Hecate rolled her eyes, if there was any type of witchcraft she hated the most it was prophecy telling. The prophecies were always unnecessarily over-detailed and more like riddles than actual pieces of helpful information. She already couldn’t stand the Fates and their seeing eye, but mortal oracles? They were the worse. 

      - Tell me you turned her into a fish ... or a plant. - Hecate was particularly found of permanent punishments. She thought curses and death were much too simple, however James was one to dabble in cursing rather than metamorphism. 

       - Y/N wouldn’t be very happy with that.

       - Y/N is not the Goddess of the Underworld is she? 

       - You have absolutely no reason to despise her that much, Hecate. It is out of character for you to judge before meeting. 

       - I know how this ends, Hades. You are not the first god to take liking to a mortal and trust me it never ends well. - she sighed, arms crossed in front of her white gown. James had to agree with her, he knew way too many myths of when a mortal relationship went wrong but he couldn’t help it, she was just so magnetic and entrancing. Besides, part of him wanted to be next to her all the time and make sure no harm came to her which harshly differed from other deity/mortal relationships which were normally based on lust or petty jealousy between other deities. - You’re a King before you are a man. Remember that. 

Y/N got up from her crutching state, standing on her legs as she patted the dirt and petals off her garments and onto the floor, a proud look on her face as she looked at the relatively healthy looking plant. She let out a little happy sound, hands clasped in front of her collarbones as she turned on her heel to go and find something else to do. Instead, her eye caught James’ figure who was standing next to Hecate in what looked like a innocent conversation. 

She wanted to wave at him, maybe even give him an innocent kiss but Hecates’ words were still very much present in her mind “You are not to be intimate with the god of the Underworld” so were Minthe’s remarks about how he was expected to be seen with someone of higher blood. She wouldn’t want to get him in trouble and perhaps they could speak some other time when they weren’t surrounded by other people. 

      - What are you doing standing up there? - Minthe came up from behind her, a condescending tone present. - Ogling the god of the Underworld?

      - What? No. - her cheeks turned into a colour that matched her pink sash, as she tried to hide her face in her hands. Somehow, the fact that he was, well, he was who he was, made her feel like she needed to keep everything shrouded in secrecy. - Is there something else needed?

     - You know what? - her face contorted into a calm expression she couldn’t really figure out. - We could use some help from some new maidens.

     - New maidens? - Y/N felt like a child, questioning everything and everyone around her. 

     - Yes, you see if you go straight ahead until you reach the river and ask the Charon to take you South you’ll be able to find them. Tell him it’s for Hecate.

     - Oh, alright. - she nodded her head and wandered off into the groves, looking around at the decay. It looked like that particular piece of land of the Elysium was doomed to disappear. She kept on walking as instructed by Minthe until she reached the river where a boat was awaiting her with the same faceless figure. She had to admit that it freaked her out that someone without a face could speak but she tried her best to stay climb as she climbed on the boat, putting on her best courageous face. - Hecate asked for you to take me to the South. 

     - The South? - his voice was rather warm for such a menacing figure. - Are you sure?

     - Yes. 

She couldn’t see him do anything, however, she understood he had accepted her request once the boat started to move. Y/N remained silent, repeating Minthe’s words in her mind. How hard could it possibly be to lead a few maidens back to the Elysium? It was easy, she kept telling that to herself even as the boat reached shore. The sky had turned into a dark scarlet and the chirping of birdies could be heard no more. She looked around but all she could see was darkness.

    - Are you sure about this, miss? - the Charon questioned, noticing the uneasiness of her step as she disembarked. - I’m sure Hecate can arrange for someone else.

    - No. - she shook a forced smile out of her worried expression. - It’s fine. Thank you.

    - Of course, m’am. 

You can do this, she told herself as she stepped onto the darkness. There was no sound, the once dark scarlet sky had faded into pure darkness and it was cold, so cold. Her hands went to her own arms, rubbing them in order to keep warm as she dwelled deeper into the unknown, the only sound heard being that of her shoes clicking against the pavement. 

    - Hmm ... Hello? - she spoke up, gathering every bit of courage. She was in the Underworld after all and this was no longer the Elysium.

She kept on walking until she hit something, a blue and reddish tint coloured the dark room but once she saw what she had hit, her heart stopped beating for a second. She was standing in front of a skeleton. As she place her hand over her chest to regain her breathe the bony arm grabbed her cloth, forcefully pushing her and ripping her tunic. 

    - STOP! - she pushed her hand against the skull, trying to get away from the grasp, eventually gathering enough force to walk back. Screw this task. However, once she tried to find her way back she found herself surrounded by more skeletons and translucent figures all coming towards her. - HELP!

James and Hecate were still in their friendly debate with the goddess being of the opinion that all of this was madness and mainly caused by both of them being ignorants, something he had already heard before. As he was about to shut her to go and tell Y/N of the developments, a bunch of water nymphs came running their way with worry written all over their faces. 

    - My Lady, there’s been a security breach in the Tartarus. - they all said at different speeds and different pitches, which made James’ head hurt at all of that. Hecate took a defensive stand, turning to look at James who just moved his head is disbelief. 

    - How is that even possible? It’s probably just a false ala ... - he was about to dismiss their claims until he noticed a very missing Y/N from her once beloved spot. His eyes scanned the crowd of maidens looking anywhere for her but she was nowhere to be found. - Y/N!

Once he heard no one calling back, his mind immediately rushed to the Tartarus. She couldn’t be there, she had barely been in the Underworld besides no one would take her there, she was a mortal. However, in a snap of his figure he’d been transported to the Tartarus, staff in hand as he strutted down the halls of the Tartarus. He hit one of the walls with his staff, which turned dark blue, giving light to the constantly dark Tartarus. With the new founded light, he could see a bunch of condemned souls surrounding a particular spot. 

    - THAT’S ENOUGH!  - he screamed in a tone that could scare even the biggest of deities, even Gaia herself. The souls, noticing their leader was amongst them, broke their surrounding, returning all to him. - NOW DON’T MOVE IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU. 

James strutted further into the Tartarus, finding bits and pieces of white linen which could belong to her along with several fresh white roses. Maybe she had been picking them prior, he did not know. His heart clenched as he called out for her name but heard no answer, maybe it wasn’t her, maybe she wasn’t ...

    - B...Bucky? - James heard her faint voice and as fast as he could followed it until he found one of the souls pressing her against one of the walls, boney hands around her neck. He hit the staff against the ground, the once pressure around her neck vanishing as she slide to the ground, hand coming to touch what he guessed was a very sore spot now. She lifted her head to stare at him, a look of regret and fear in her beautiful eyes. - Bucky, I’m so sorry.

    - Y/N. - he rushed over to her side, leaning so he was standing at the same height as her, hands coming to hold her jaw. - Are you hurt? 

    - I’m okay, I’m okay. - she leaned her head onto his shoulder. It didn’t take long for him to feel his clothes had begun to dampen. - I messed up ... I messed up. 

    - Hey, look at me. - he tried to move his shoulder so that she would look at him, but she refused, maintaining her face buried them. - Y/N, c’mon, sweetness.

    - I don’t want you to see me cry. - she sobbed through her speech, arms coming to wrap around his body. Bucky pulled the pin that was barely keeping the now very messy hairstyle up, throwing it onto the floor as her hair descended from the once tight hellenic hairstyle before proceeded to card his fingers through it, every once in a while kissing the top of her head. Y/N eventually stopped her crying, removing her head from his shoulder to stare at him, the look of uttermost regret slowly breaking his heart even more as he saw it on her expression. - I’m so sorry.

   - This is not your fault. - he helped her get up, holding her hands in his as if something returned to dare and harm her. Not that they would, they’d have to be crazy to mess with the King of the Underworld. - I should’ve never taken my eyes off you. 

   - Bucky. - she wrapped her arms around him and for a second it felt like things were back to normal. It felt like things were normal again that she didn’t know he was the God of the Underworld and that she wasn’t doomed to remain in the Underworld. He melted and relished into her hug but couldn’t help but feel how cold she was. She was still a mortal and remaining in the Tartarus would do her no good.

   - Let’s go before you freeze to death. - he joked, not expecting to get a laugh out of her after the current events, however she showed him a small smile. 

He held her hand as he guided her through the Tartarus, her eyes scanning the souls that once were harming her now stood without moving, not even daring to make a sound in front of their King. Something in that made her courage swell up, seeing them helpless standing around her without being able to touch her again. Her head held up high however once she noticed the fresh white roses on the ground, she couldn’t help but stop her step. 

   - They’re beautiful. - she mumbled under her breathe.

   - Are they not yours? - he questioned at her astonishment with the flowers. 

   - No, I wish I could have such beautiful roses. I thought flowers only grew within the Elysium. 

    - Don’t bother your head with it. - he reassured her, although the question was still very much puzzling to him. - C’mon, let’s go. 

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​​ @inlovewith3​​​​19

[gabriellexhunter]

drunk nights and streetlights

warm. too warm.

was all that went through gabby’s head as the sun beamed down on her face, cursing herself for drinking, and not shutting the shades and for even being awake at what was probably some ungodly hour. letting out a small groan in protest her mind seemed to catch up to her body as her hand reached out into the spot next to her. the redhead peeked her eyes open when her hand didn’t meet a warm, just as crabby human next to her. Her hand tangled in her sheets as she sat up, holding the gray thin fabric to cover her chest. Maybe Max got up and made coffee? He was always an early riser, but maybe he had work? Or maybe he’s just in the bathroom waiting for her to get up?

Everything in her mind was telling her to panic, to freak out when she didn’t see him there. Or hear the familiar creaks of the house as someone walked through it, he wouldn’t just leave, right? And not say goodbye? Green eyes fell onto the floor and as her clothing was scattered everywhere still, his were nowhere to be seen. Hera chose this time to hop up onto the bed and meow towards her, probably hungry, and a part of her hoped he was just there, maybe doing the crossword so she couldn’t at her table.

Scratching behind her cat's ears, she brushed through her hair as she got up, the afterglow from last night had turned into grossness and tacky skin, shuffling her way into the bathroom she took the fastest, hottest shower she could. Gabby slipped into her lounge wear and pressed her palms into her eyes as she tried desperately to not overthink. This wasn’t the easiest situation, but he wouldn’t just dip. She knew him. He was an ass sure but after something so altering to their dynamic?

Bouncing down her stairs, a cat strong at her heels, she paused a bit at the end of her staircase, staring into an empty, undisturbed area. Her wine glass was still on her counter and the near empty bottle was in the sink, and the towel that was hung over her stove was discarded on the floor, probably from them. This also meant he wasn’t here. A part of her brain was accepting defeat, but the part that was so tightly wound with her heart couldn’t accept it. Moving to make a pot of coffee, her actions felt slow, like she was dipped in syrup trying to get out. Gabby’s cellphone sat dead on her kitchen island and as she picked it up, she prayed some small impossible thing would happen and he’d call. When she placed her phone on the table charger she poured her coffee, watching the phone more than her own movement, watching it light up and turn on and it even took her a few extra seconds to realize she was over pouring her coffee onto her counter.

“Fuck shit” Was mumbled out as her hand grabbed that towel and threw it down over the mess. “Get it together” Gabby said softly as she moved to dump a bit of the extra filled coffee out of her sink and each new ding rang out as messages and emails flooded the small screen. Taking a gentle sip her hand reached over the mess to reach anything that was popping up, every new thing pushed aside when it wasn’t from who she wanted it to be from. Her finger dangled a bit in front of his contact, the silly stupid picture staring back at her as she swallowed down the anxiety and took a deep breath. Meeting his voicemail was something she didn’t expect.

“hey uh- sorry I woke up so late i know you’re an early bird” this was more embarrassing than she thought it could be. her fingers pinched her nose before she took a deep breath and continued. “i know you might be busy or you know working or whatever but if you umm have time later we could talk about everything? i mean if you want? im sorry im so fucking nervous i just- i want to make sure we’re okay. you’re my best friend Max, just call me okay? i could word vomit forever.”

Staring down at her phone screen, she paused for a few extra seconds as she finally hung up the call. Her fingers curled around the device as she tucked it under her chin, shutting her eyes as she let out a shuddering breath. The thing was that now that this happened, it wasn’t like she could just ignore it. Looking back down at her phone screen she went to their texts as she mumbled to herself as Gabby deleted and retyped something a thousand times, trying to find the right words. The right way to fix this, because if she didn’t pick at this; it’d be her undoing.

‘Just call me when you can, okay?’ was all she typed out and let out a scream when she actually sent it. This is why she didn’t do things like this.

Twenty four hours.

It was the anxiety of it that was killing her the most. Not knowing. Not sure of where things were, or if he was upset or how he felt. She had to sit with her own emotions only, and that was almost worse. Max wasn’t there to tell her she was overthinking it, or being irrational towards herself and the situation. Gabs tried not to let the sadness creep in, she truly did, but when the text moved to delivered and she still never got a response, or a call back, a part of her heart broke. What if that was all he wanted? Seven years of build up just for sex? Max wouldn’t do that to her, he couldn’t do that to her.

Kicking her door closed, the redhead let out a groan as she pressed her back to it. Her gym clothing was sticking to her, and even though it was her normal coping mechanism, it didn’t touch the anxiety that sat on her shoulders or in her chest. She must have looked wild to those around her, carrying her gym bag under one arm and two bottles of wine in the next, but at this point, all she felt was defeated. Dropping her bag down and kicking off her shoes was the easy part, and as she dragged herself to the kitchen the first thing she did was find a bottle opener. Not even bothering with a glass and taking a big swig caused her to burp as she stared down at her phone. Gabby took another long sip, trying to build up the courage to text him again.

‘Can you at least tell me if we’re okay?’

Half a bottle of wine and a change of clothes later.

‘Max just give me something. I cant do radio silence, please?’

Full bottle and half a sandwich.

‘We dont even have to talk, send an emoji or something.’

Two bottles and a long cold case marathon later.

‘Don’t act like i won’t show up to your job’

‘I mean i won’t because you’re already avoiding me and i think it’d cry if you ignored me in person’

‘Im sorry im not trying to be that girl who demands something after a one night stand but

I just hoped i was more than that’

‘sorry’

Two days.

This asshole had ignored her for two days. The hangover was absolutely not worth it. And her sadness turned to anger overnight. Even if he didn’t want something serious, a single text would shut her up. One. single. Text. and he couldn’t even do that? Calling out was not in her work ethic but the anger she felt was all consuming, the sadness that would creep in would be overshadowed in anger and the need to hit him.

Her phone was her enemy, and every buzz and ding that came from it was false hope. Max was going to get a punch to the head when she saw him next, that was for sure. Did she completely waste her time with this? Did she push him too hard? All of these questions clouded her head for two days, but now they were replaced with venom. How could he do this to her? Were the things he said to her a lie? Maybe he didn’t want to give up his bachelor life. Or maybe he didn’t care as much as he thought and now she was just left in the dark. Gabby cried too much over this, sad and angry tears but there was never any relief. When she was getting a divorce there was a moment where everything turned calm again, and she stopped crying over it all, but that never came for this situation. She was just angry.

Wanting to text him and yell at him was her worst character flaw, she couldn’t leave things well enough alone. But he knew this about her. Did he just think she’d let this go? That she wouldn’t annoy the fucking shit out of him until he answered? The anger she felt from being completely disregarded was holding her body hostage, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. All her normal coping ways didn’t even scratch the surface of it all, she was left feeling more angry, and in a sense betrayed. Even if he didn’t see this going anywhere, or wanted to stop all this, why wouldn’t he just tell her? Why leave her like this? Not knowing. Consumed. Burning.

When she finally gave in to text him again, all she wanted to do was spit hate at him. React bitterly and angry, like how she felt, but the thought of lying and telling Max she hated him, didn’t sit well. Puffing out a giant breath, her thumb hovered over the call button, and every time it rang she hoped he’d pick up. If he just answered she’d feel less angry. When his voicemail played again, she hung up the first time, “Get a fucking grip, you can yell at him it’s fine” and tried it again, and her anger flared again as it played again.

“Hey Asshat, I get it okay? This is a lot but you have to give me something. You know I don’t work well on silence and and avoidance, I’m just so fucking mad at you, All you have to do is answer me. An empty message at this point would be better than nothing. I hate...” Pausing, knowing how it was going to sound to him, she quickly tried to fix it. “I just hate that you responded like this. This isn’t right, this is stupid im not doing this I can’t do this. It hurts too much and I’m too angry at you, talk to me when you’re finally ready to have a big boy conversation.”  

Staring down at the phone, her breath caught in her throat as it all came down on her. What if they never recovered from this? Was she going to lose him for good? Pulling up the messages she saw all her one sided moments and typed before she could even stop herself,

“I love you but i also fucking hate you right now, all you had to do was stay.”

And with that, she accepted her anger and finally broke down in tears again.

Day three.

This was the day that hit the hardest. She could only call out for so long before others were asking if she was okay, and how serious her stomach bug was etc. Gabby wanted to crawl into her bed and just scream, and nap and mostly scream. Holding her coffee close to her chest as she walked through the familiar doors and all the way to her desk, Oliver insisted she make up for the lost time before her normal drive along. Her partner was already there waiting for her, probably waiting to give her a hard time.

“Marky I swear to god if you’re here to start shit I’ll turn around and walk out” The redhead started as she rolled her eyes at him, she knew they all meant well, “You missed two days of ride along and you expected to get through without shit? Come on Hunts, you know me better than that.” He was laughing, nudging her shoulder like it was nothing and dropped a muffin bag onto her desk. Markus was one of the ones who knew of her special deal with Oliver and her therapist, and a part of her was always nervous he’d say something, make some wack ass comment, but he always kept it respectful. The department welcomed her with welcome arms, many knew her from her previous work but when Oliver introduced her as Officer Hunter the cheers were all the welcoming she needed.

The three hours of desk work was killing her, every shift and turn in the chair was making some new part of her crack. Pushing her glasses up a bit and taking a sip of her coffee, she struggled through a few reports, only stopping when she got a clap on the back and an overeager Markus on her right. “You ready?” He asked, giving her a pleased smile when she nodded. Shutting the folder and placing it in her locked desk drawer, the woman grabbed her jacket and moved forward, following closely behind him. “Are we in the normal area tonight?” Gabs asked carefully, shrugging on her jacket and adjusting her shirt a bit as they entered the garage. “Yeah, we’ve got a few routine stops, and we have to check on that one family again but other than that we’re sitting on our asses tonight.”

Just like that the night moved on. New cups of coffee every hour, normal buildings and streets passing by in blurs. Streetlights either too bright or not bright enough, the rush of it all was just enough to distract her, shift her focus from the absolute emotional jail cell she felt trapped in. But good moments only last so long, it’s not all saving kids and eating donuts, there were days it tested her and tonight was one of those.

They were first to arrive on scene. Gun shots, domestic dispute, children involved. None of it was a good feeling. Things like this only had two ways of ending, bad or good, and there was just no telling which one they were getting. Markus and her stood by the door, weapons drawn as a few other officers were next to them, needing all the back up they could get at this point, medics on standby in case someone was injured. As they knocked on the door, identified themselves, and when all they heard was yells and screams it took less than ten seconds for Mark to kick the door down and they were in. Clearing each room, and right when she was going to check the final door with another officer that’s when all hell broke loose. Kids were crying, a woman was crying and all they saw was a man holding the woman by the neck and using her as a shield. There are moments when the universe is warning a person about something, she felt this years ago, when she was at that scene before she got hurt but this was part of the job. Gabby couldn’t back out now, not when the lives of others depended on it, it all happened so fast the woman was shoved to the ground and the man took off running. The other officer was helping the lady up and Gabby took off after him, “Adams is on the run! Officer Hunter in pursuit” She heard a few confirmations and Markcus staying close behind but she barely heard a damn thing.

Running through the streets of the Mission District was the last thing she wanted to be doing. Shoving people out of her way as she followed him, “Move move move!” Was all she could say as they continued running. He had to get tired at some point, she was near huffing. Rounding into a smaller side street, the redhead watched Adams disappear down a smaller alley and instantly her gut told her to turn back, save herself and just forget about him. Drawing her gun again, her steps got softer as she rounded the corner slower than him, her eyes bouncing back and forth between each side, each sound and every small movement she could. The further she went down the darkened alley the worse her belly ached, and that anxiety she felt for days felt minuarture to the anxiety and fear that held her body hostage. Swallowing slightly, she licked her lips as a soft breath passed through her lips, eyes taking in every detail she could, he couldn’t have gone far, he was slowing down a few blocks away, he was close. He had to be.

The clanging of metal made her turn, gun raised as she watched a stray cat run from behind the garbage cans, shattering from the area. One move fucked her, and as she heard the shuffling of shoes and rock, she knew. Barely having time to turn, Adams was right there; 6���3 and near two hundred pounds and he was taking her out like she was nothing. The distant sound of cop cars and sirens weren’t enough to stop him, really it only made it worse. Tackling her down to the ground was nothing to him, and even when she tried to stop it, scraping her hands, ignoring the sting and blood rushing, it wasn’t enough. Her gun flew from her hands, metal scraping against the ground, head smashing off the ground and it took everything in her to fight back. Her fist collided with his cheek, temporarily shocking him, and it was just enough to attempt to move. She was scrambling up trying to grab her gun, trying to get some sort of leverage over him but he was too quick, too big, too strong. His hand wrapped around her ankle, dragging her back to him, her lungs were burning, her head hurt in ways she didn’t ever want to remember and she could practically hear her heartbeat.

Dragging her back only added to the scraps and cuts on her hands, she was clawing her way at the ground trying desperately to find something, anything to get her out of this. His hands were gripping her so strong she was sure she’d have fingerprints, turning her around his fist connected with her face. Blood was rushing down her nose as he laid another smack down onto her, gabby was trying to shove him off, claw at him, harm him in any way, but he was a lady hitter, this was probably fun for him while she fought through everything just to make sure she made it out okay. His one hand reached down to grab her throat as his other hand reached behind him, and into the back of his pants and tugged out the firearm he was previously. The hand on her neck tightened as the gun pressed into her forehead, at least this one had enough brains to aim for the head.

BANG BANG BANG

Gabby’s eyes shut instantly, and when she wasn’t met with pain and darkness her eye creeped open watching a bloodied Adams start gasping as he toppled off her. Shoving him fully off of hef, her eyes widened as she tried to drag herself away from him, feet and sirens were closer and suddenly Markus was sliding next to her, trying to get her to sit still, wait for a medic, but she couldn’t function. The pain in the back of her head made her vision blurry, her hand was gripping Mark’s arm hard as she tried desperately to catch her breath. A medic was by her side in seconds and they were helping her up, trying to talk to her, but all she could think about was how much pain she was in, how the ringing in her ears wouldn’t stop and the phantom feeling of his hand around her neck wasn’t disappearing.

What a shit fucking week.

..

...

....

“Hello is this Max Fields?.... Right, Hi. This is Captain Oliver Lee with the San Francisco Police Department I’m calling in regards to Gabby Hunter..Listen, Gabs has you as her emergency contact and she got hurt tonight in the field. She’ll be fine but she’s gunna be benched for a bit, you just gotta come sign her out or they won’t let her leave. We’re at Saint Frances..room 603 Just get here when you can, she’s pretty out of it right now so you got some time. Don’t leave her hanging, can’t wait to meet you.”

[ditch-witches]

Beginner's Luck (Dean-Charles Chapman Smut)

requested: yes/no (your requests are everything to us! send us your monkey brain, sad boy hours, thot thoughts, etc. and we’ll try our absolute best to deliver!)

thank you for the request @obsessedwithfandomsx​!

pairing: Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, slow burn asf. (im so sorry)

word count: 2,197

a/n: Hello dear readers. Resident Dean stan, Grayce, here! I hope everyone had a safe weekend and I wish everyone luck in this upcoming week! I got super carried away with this for no reason (maybe it’s because it’s my birthday and I’m emo) so I hope y'all enjoy it! Happy reading!

You wrung your hands as your nerves began to build while thinking about the situation in front of you. There was Dean across the room, chatting with some friends and seemingly carefree with the night as his oyster. You watched him laugh at a joke, your mouth curling into a smile at the sight out of instinct. His laugh was contagious, even if you couldn’t hear it.

Tonight was the night. The two of you had declared it the week before and under Dean’s nose, you stressed and planned to no end. It was your first time, not just with him, but ever. He was aware of this, of course, but after finding out that he had been with someone before you, it was clear you had competition. Even if it seemed like he wouldn’t be comparing the two of you, you would be. You bit your lip with a small chuckle, cursing yourself for coming into the metaphorical game so late. You rolled your eyes at yourself, attempting to contribute to the conversation in front of you.

Dean knocked the neck of his bottle against his friends before walking over to you. You jumped slightly as his arm found its way around your waist. He greeted your group before slyly leaning towards your ear. “Ready to get out of here? This is kind of lame…”

You snickered at his comment before parting from the group. He took your hand when you both left the house booming with music, lacing your fingers together. Dean smiled at you in the dark, your breath coming out in translucent clouds to mix with the light snowfall. You almost slipped on an ice patch, causing Dean to pull you closer to him and let out a light-hearted laugh. Sliding into the car beside him, your heart was beating a thousand times quicker than normal. The two of you had left parties together, spent the day together, etc., more times than you could count yet tonight it felt like you were a stranger in your own body.

Dean turned down the radio and moved his hand to rest on your thigh. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in your chest. His thumb rubbed against your jeans in a soothing manner. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, quirking a small smile in your direction before turning back to the road. You wet your lips, chewing on your words in an attempt to gather your response. It was a short distance to Dean’s apartment from his friend’s, causing your nerves to jump a bit higher.

“I’m nervous if I’m being completely honest.”

You could tell he was furrowing his brows in concentration, only getting to see glimpses of his reactions as you passed under street lamps. “About what, exactly?” His tone was even and more understanding than anything.

You took the hand that was on your thigh into your own, tucking your arm under his. “I don’t know. I guess I have the jitters about our first time…”

Dean let out a small chuckle. “That’s what you’re worried about?” The two of you made eye contact momentarily. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to if you-”

“No! No, I want to. It’s just… I’ve heard horror stories about people’s first times. I’m worried I’m not going to be good enough and that, I don’t know, it won’t be fun. It’s just my brain working against me.”

He thought for a moment about how to react. “How can I make it better?”

You leaned closer to his side, wishing the console wasn’t between the two of you. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

“I’ll make sure it’s okay. If you wanna stop at any point, let me know. We’ll go at your pace. It will be okay. I promise.” Your heart fluttered at his response and he pulled into his driveway.

“All right then. Let’s fuck.” He laughed at your comment, squeezing your hand.

Dean sat beside you on the bed, his hands in his lap as you fought to settled your nerves. You were grateful for his laid back approach to the situation, yet he still made it seem like your worries were valid. He reached a hand out to you, brushing your hair off your shoulder gently. You smirked slightly, still looking forward, your eyes concentrating on his light switch. His hand traveled to rest on your back, rubbing in slight circles before he leaned towards you to place a kiss on your cheek. You turned to him, looking into his soft eyes and relishing in this moment. You decided you didn’t want to go back. You were all in.

You closed the gap between the two of you rather abruptly, pulling him into a kiss and pushing one of your hands into his hair. He pulled you closer as one of his hands moved to settle on the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, the familiarity of it in a situation like this put you further at ease. You broke away from him to push his jacket off his shoulders and you both moved further on the bed. You found yourself sitting cross-legged in front of Dean, attempting not to make the situation any more awkward than it already was. He smiled at you, pressing his lips against yours again as you tugged at the hem of his shirt. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but at this moment, he was different. He was unexplored terrain to you, just as he was treating you like a new piece of art, worried to bend an edge or wrinkle beyond repair.

He helped you remove your shirt as well and you struggled not to cover your chest, but Dean’s soft expression gave you the confidence to be vulnerable to him. His hands rested on your hips as he kissed you with as much passion as he could muster, sighing into each brush of contact he had with you. You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his as your heart hammered in his chest. You took one of his hands in yours, catching your breath momentarily.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, you know?” He whispered, leaning back from you to send you a small smile.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Stop being weird and grab my boob, Dean.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just really excited,” he said with an almost childlike expression. You snorted at his enthusiasm, causing him to laugh. He pressed his lips against yours, smiling behind the action. He couldn’t help himself. You pulled his hand up to settle against your breast, and in a switch, he was back to gentle caresses and taking things one step at a time. One of your hands knotted in his hair as his warm breath brushed against your cheek. You held onto his forearm softly as he slipped his hand between the fabric of your bra and your skin. You moaned against his lips, mentally cursing yourself at the sound, but it seemed to egg Dean on as he deepened your kiss. You leaned back into the pillows, pulling Dean with you as you both buried yourselves in the covers. “Are you still okay?” Dean murmured, tucking one of his arms beneath yours.

“I’m fine. I promise. I’ll scream bloody murder if I’m not,” you lightly joked.

He smiled down at you, brushing his nose against yours slightly. “Okay, deal.” You kissed him lightly before wrapping a leg around one of his, bringing him flush against you. His teeth grazed against your bottom lip before you reached between the two of you, unbuttoning your jeans. He leaned back to watch your actions, his pupils larger and almost animalistic. He withdrew from you, resting back on his knees, helping to drag your jeans down your hips. You sat up to meet him, your hands trailing down his chest towards his zipper as well. His hands played with the ends of your hair, his lips finding your collarbone and placing light kisses while nipping at the skin. You slipped your hand behind the fabric of his boxers and began to palm him, but he caught your wrist in the process. “You don’t have to do that.”

You furrowed your brows at him. “I want to.”

“No, I mean,” he bit back a smile, “I’m ready when you are.”

You attempted to hide the taken aback reaction you registered, your face heating up. “oH.”

He held your face in his hands and you rested yours on his hips now. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush,” he leered and you rolled your eyes, causing him to laugh. He loved it when you did that for some reason. You brought him down with you to lie between your legs. You bit your lip slightly looking at him.

“Go slow, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Are you ready?” You exhaled and nodded rather quickly. The two of you fumbled around in a mess of giggling attempting to get both your underwear and his boxers off without ruining the moment. “I’ll be gentle,” he finally said, angling himself towards you.

“Ew,” you nervously tittered in response. You were on the verge of resorting to humor to cover your anxiety.

“Are you sure?” He asked once again, lifting his eyes to yours and you exhaled again nodding. “It’s okay. Relax,” he hummed softly, his eyes looking to yours for any sign of retreat.

“I’m ready. I trust you.” He pressed his lips to yours before shifting his weight from the hand that was holding him up to the other. “Ow!” You barked. Dean froze in his position, eyes widening as he searched your face. “I’m joking,” you leered, biting back the wicked grin spreading across your face.

His shoulders fell slightly in relief and he fought not to roll his eyes. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack and it’ll be Gerald’s Game all over again.” You couldn’t help but snicker, now feeling more relaxed in his arms. You nodded at him one last time to give him the go-ahead and he pushed himself into you, waiting for you to adjust to him. You groaned slightly, the pressure of him a foreign feeling but surprisingly not as painful as you had been warned it would be. You reached up to bring his lips to yours as he began moving. You began to feel every inch of him in you as his hips ground against yours. His lips left yours to press against your jaw and your ear, one of his hands interlocking with yours, binding the two of you further together in the act.

“I haven’t screamed bloody murder yet,” you said, almost congratulating him, causing him to let out a low chuckle as your eyes found his.

“I love that you’re still a minx even while you’re under me,” he added rather darkly and you laughed.

“You bring out the best in me, D,” you unintentionally moaned. He grinned before sealing your lips together in a sloppy example of his love as he quickened his pace ever so slightly. You had a feeling he was close, so you began to grind into him as well, wanting to find the right position so you could join him. He noticed your attempt, burying himself in your neck, driving himself deeper into you, causing you to let out a small whimper as your hands plunged into his dark curls. His movements brought a feeling of tension within you. Getting to your orgasm was like feeling a distant sneeze creeping up your nose. Dean began to ride you with less of a rhythmic pace. You pulled him back to look at you as he brought you closer to the edge. He somehow looked at you with so much longing in this moment of passion that you fought not to tell him you loved him. With every movement, a feeling of relief began to spread through your body and before you knew it, you fists were tightening in his hair, head falling back in pleasure. You swore you saw him grin before you shut your eyes to ride out the rest of your ecstasy. Breathlessly, he pulled out of you, jerking himself off a few times before finishing as well. The two of you were a panting mess as he lowered himself on the bed beside you.

You laid your head against his chest, the only sound in the room to you being his heartbeat as his hand softly ran up and down your back. He took your hand in his, examining your palm, brushing his thumb against your heartline. “Thank you,” you sighed. It began to sink in that Dean would now be carrying around a piece of you with him for the rest of his life.

“You act like you’re the only one who benefitted from that,” he answered with a short chuckle. The vibration of his accent in his chest was music to your ears.

You scoffed. “Just take my gratitude, dammit.” He laughed again at your response. “Now what do we do?”

“We could take a shower?” He offered.

“I love your mind,” you quipped.

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Okaaaay... Hi lovelies,

I gotcha an Dewey Finn x gender-fluid reader. Angst and fluff... mentions of sexy times... I hope its okay.

For every beautiful soul out there, you are loved, you are real, and you are valid.

CHAMELEON

You smiled to your reflexion in the mirror. The bit of fuzzing around was worth the result. You heared Dewey hum with a tune on the radio in the kitchen. How you loved that voice... That boy made you so happy...

You ran your fingers through your hair for the last time, before you disgarded from the bathroom. You fixed your shirt when you approached Dewey, to make sure the lacy bra wasnt showing through the fabric of your T-shirt.... The anxiety of his reaction never let you out of its grip. You've had too many small minded boyfriends over the years to get that out of your system. Not all of them had been equally chill with your fluently in gender.... some of them handled it better then others.

Today was a girly-girl day, for sure.

Your nervousness and doubts spread in your chest when you approached the kitchen with a frown on your face.

You stood in the doorway, and glanced down towards your bracelets. Your nervous hands fumbled with the fabric of your maxi skirt. You let out a shakily breath when you heared Dewey whistle at you appreciatively. A smile ghosted on your lips and you brushed a strand of hair behind your ears, still feeling a bit awkward and you let your eyes dart around the room. Looking anywhere accept for your lover. Dewey quickly stood up and made his way over to you. When you glanced up at his brown eyes, all you could see was happiness and excitement.

He slowly leaned into you and let his lips brush softly against your own, when he kissed you sweetly. His hands wrapped around your waist and brushed your sides when he pulled back from the kiss. The sweetness that man posessed still suprised you, every day. But it also gave you courage... you finally gazed into the eyes of your sweet sweet HoneyDew and smiled when his morningvoice croaked out: "Morning beautifull... Did you sleep okay?"

You reached out to brush your fingers against his scruff and let out your remaining anxiety with one, last, deep exhale.

You nodded yes and gave Dewey a shy smile.

His hand found the back of your neck and he tickled the hairs in the nape of your neck. "Morning Dew..." you whispered back to him.

Dewey's other hand glided upwards on your spine and he stated softly: "Today is a skirt-day, huh?"

You nodded quickly, and muttered a "Yup..."

Dewey pressed a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose and cupped your cheek. He gazed deeply in your eyes and muttered through his adoring smile: "You look really pretty today, princess."

It always amazed you how naturally the rockstar got your pronouns right. Even when you weren't exactly sure about them yourself, somedays.

You blushed and batted your eyelashes when you reached for his brown curls. Your fingers combed through is and Dewey purred in appreciation.

Deweys hands wandered from your neck, down your back towards your but, and he patted your ass playfully. You squeeled and jumped back a bit, laughing at his goofiness.

Dewey chuckled too and hummed when he pulled you against him again: "Cuddles and coffee for the princess?"

You grinned into his neck and hummed appreciatively.

Dewey pressed a last kiss on your hair and told you: "... Coming right up!"

.................................................................................

You woke up at the sound of the alarm the next morning.

You grunted and fought your way out of Deweys embrace, leaving the warm sheets for him. He muttered a bit in his sleep when you escaped his warm arms around you and you smiled. What a dork... but it was your dork.

You glanced one last time upon his adorable sleeping form and grinned when you heared him snore loudly under the blankets. He was spread diagonally on the bed, his left arm dangled out of it and his messy hear was everywhere....

You snatched Deweys red baseball-cap from the nightstand and stole his boxershorts as well. Quickly putting on your sports bra you found the way to Deweys closet.you With squinted sleepy eyes you peeked inside his wardrobe and thew on your boy's favorite ACDC shirt and some of his sweatpants and headed to the bathroom.

You frowned in doubt when you started tying your hair up in a ponytail. Thoughts brought you back at the day before. Deweys reaction when he saw you in that flowery skirt... the boy had been *so* happy... maybe he liked it better if you dressed like a girly-girl every day... maybe he didnt like it that you changed your clothes, appearence and pronouns every day... your former boyfriends always let you go after they figured that out about you. Some of your friends left you too. They thought it was weird, and you only craved attention...

You splashed some water in your face to clear some of your fogged mind and repeated to yourself: "Dewey loves me for *me*... Not for my appearence... He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mi-..."

You repeated your mantra when you put on your boyfriend's boxers and sweatpants. Only deodorant would do it today. No sweet flower-perfume... Hell no, no jewelry today... you didnt feel like it.

You put Deweys cap on and skipped downstairs to make your Dew some good-morning-coffee on bed.

You grissed your phone out of your pocket and put on "Highway to hell" when you headbanged and took the coffee and bagels upstairs.

You threw the door open with little to no grace at all and flopped on the bed unceremoniously with a loud thump.

"Morning Dewdrop..." you hummed in tune with the sound of your phone.

Dewey grunted and wiped his hands over his sleepy face before opening one eye to peek at you.

A smile crept up at his lips and he smugly awnered: "Moooooorning handsome..."

You grinned and leaned down to kiss Dewey on his scruffy cheek before stating: "Sunday-bagel-time!"

You held out your fist for him to bump and he yelled: "Hellyeah!!!" when his knuckles touched yours.

You took a sip of your coffee and Dewey dug his teeth in one of the bagels hungerly. Dewey hummed in delight when he finished it and with a scruff full of suger he pulled you into him, pressing small pecks on your cheek and his warm hands crept under your (his) shirt to caress your body there.

You chuckled at his movements and heared him mutter against your neck: "You look verrrrrry charming in my shirt. And youknow it drives me crazy when you wear my boxers, bro..."

You smiled and your hands crept up his warm, sleepy chest. You felt his steady heartbeat calm your mind. His words seeping in your anxious brain. Your eyes shot to his when he continued: "And my baseball hat..."

You looked at him, with a worried smile on your face you replied: "yeaaaah Dew..?"

Dewey smiled and mischief gleamed in his eyes when he continued: "My baseball hat, looks nice on you lad..."

You scoffed and pressed your lips on his to shut him up from making those awfully sweet rhymes.

Dewey breathed between kisses: "i... like you... in my clothing... it... looks better on you... then on me..."

.................................................................................

Later that day you made lunch with Dewey and anxiety crept its way up in your chest again.

You knew this feeling. It was off. Again.

Dewey felt you tense up against him, you were chopping vegetables and suddenly he felt your back tense up as you slowed your movements and glanced down.

You unconsciously grabbed your t-shirt tightly and ruffled your hair in a frustrated way out of your face when you threw the cap of. Your shoulders rose with a huff and a frown appeared on your earlier carefree face.

You suddenly didnt feel comfortable in what you were wearing anymore.

Should you tell him? Should you not? Would he understand? You didn't want it to seem like you were overreacting... it just... didn't feel... good... anymore.

You took a deep breath and started with a shaky voice: "Erhm.... Dew... I... uhm...."

Dewey pressed his warm body against your back, and his lips kissed your hair. His hand brushed your belly soothingly and he murmered: "Its okay... Go chance... I'll wait for you..."

Tears gleamed in your eyes and you stuttered in disbelief: "Mister Finn... how... c... ca... can you... be... that chill? With... all... me?!"

Dewey put his knife down and turned you around slowly. You felt his arms wrap around you with all the care in the world and he let out a huff when he pressed you flush against him. He squeezed you as close as you could be and you revelled in the warm, comforting and safeness that Dewey provided.

"Well..." you heared him hum with his voice muffled against your shoulder: "That's because... I. Love. You."

Dewey kissed you sweetly, trying to let the words seep in your soul through his kiss.

"I love ALL of you. No matter what you wear. Or feel. I love ALL that you are. Every vibe that you have. Or dont have. I can handle all the vibes. ALL those imperfections... are perfectly fine with me..."

You chuckled through your tears. Tears of happiness. Dewey wiped them of your face with his calloused thumb and stared in your eyes with adoration.

"Now... get your pretty ass changed, my love... I'll wait..."

With a last encouraging smooch from your Dewdrop and a last WHOOW! from him you turned to head towards your closet.

You walked away from Dewey and you heared him whisper before you turned the corner: "...I love you even when you dont love yourself sometimes."

"Loveyou DewDrop!"

You waved to him before you walked out of the kitchen.

Dewey blew you a goofy kiss and waved back at you with a wink.

"Loveyou too, my lil chameleon... Suprise me..."

.................................................................................

You peeked across the livingroom to see Dewey relaxed on the couch. You gingerly called to him: "Dew! Honey! I got a suprise for you! Close your eyes!"

Dewey groaned mockingly and replied with a grown: "But babyyyyyy! Im afraid in the daaaaaark!"

You rolled your eyes yelling back: "I'll count till 10, and you can open them again okay?"

Dewey hummed in response and closed his eyes: "Okay. 1... 2... 3...."

You chuckled and rushed to Dewey and plopped yourself on the ground before him.

".... 5... 6...."

You adjusted your tie and blazer once more and spread your arms in a *ta-daaaaa* move.

"...9... 9 and a haaaaaaalf..."

You laughed and told him: "10!!!! Open open open baby!!! Seeee!!!"

Dewey laughed at your enthausiasm and opened his eyes.

His eyes found yours. His cheeks flushed at the sight of you and he let his eyes roam your body hungerly...

His eyes darkened and a half smile appeared on his features. He growled appreciatively: "Ohhhh... baby... you. Look. Adorable!"

You squeeled a suprised high pitched note when Dewey scooped you up on the couch with a swift movement.

He put you on his lap and tugged at the blazer you were wearing. his blazer....

"Babe... did you... steal my... blazer?"

You nodded.

"... AND my shirt?"

You giggled.

"AND my tie?"

You chuckled when you saw Dewey clench his jaw when he inpatiently tugged at your tie to kiss you passionately.

You pulled away from him and smugly teased: "Who knew...? Dewey Finn... With a tie-kink?"

Dewey growled heavily when he replied: "Okay. Guilty..."

You smiled and ruffled his messy brown locks. He continued with a gentle but needy voice: "... but it isnt my fault. My girlfriend just... looks amazing. In ANYTHING... and everything..."

.................................................................................

Hey guys. Love you guys.

@ironmansuucks @bugdrinkss @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @gegehaddock

[ofmythsandmadness]

i need a favour - four.

PART FOUR - and so, the truth starts to come out (just a little). or, someone starts to realise that what she’s feeling is a little more than just nerves about this fake relationship - that she might be a bit more invested than she ever would have thought.

WORD COUNT - 2819. A/N -  This is a mess of a chapter, sorry folks. I’m not great at this. My gay ass is really just trying to make this work for y’all and truly, it shows. If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask and let me know. As well, if I missed you, just shoot a heads up.

SHE EAGERLY ACCEPTED THE CUP, only to hissing and hurry to place it down. However, she waved off Vanya’s immediate ‘I’m sorry’s’ with a sheepish grin. “It’s fine, I’m good. See?” She waved her slightly reddened fingers to prove her point - which the girl did not really buy, but at least seemed somewhat mollified.

After daring to test another sip - and regretting it immediately after - Y/N turned her attention back to the other woman, sitting across from her. They were around the same height, and yet every time Vanya always looked so much smaller, like a child in an adult’s body who’s too lost in this cruel world to properly function yet.

Far too apt for a vague thought, she bitterly rebutted herself.

“Sorry for stopping by like this,” she started, readjusting herself against the couch cushions. “I just wanted to pass on my well wishes and I saw the posters for the orchestra, figured I should pass on the good will in person.”

Vanya smiled softly. “It’s no problem. And thanks, yeah...yeah, the kids have been working hard.”

By the kids, she meant a small collection of junior students who she had begun to teach after the apocalypse situation. She still nursed a myriad of trauma around performing herself, but she had been encouraged (by both Y/N and her therapist, as well as her siblings when they were about) to not give up on something she loved. And so, she took up teaching again, but went about it with the hopes of creating a mini group of performers of her own. Y/N could tell it was not the same as performing herself, but at least it was something. As she worked on both herself and her strange abilities, it would be enough.

“I hope I can still crash the party? I don’t know much about classical music, but I have gotten quite good at pretending like I know more than I do. Diego’s nonsense helps with that.”

The other girl’s smile bloomed a little, at that. “Is he playing plus one to that, too?”

“Huh - oh, yeah, well...I don’t know,” she stuttered, stumbling over every word like it was from a whole new language. “Haven’t asked, but you know, no matter what the guy says he likes kids. Maybe he can uh, put...put the knives away for the night. Or something.”

“He doesn’t have to-”

“-no, of course he’d-”

“-it’s not his scene, and he’s a busy guy,” Vanya rushed, “you don’t have to feel bad. It was just a joke.”

Normally, Y/N would know that. In fact, she would be so quick to catch any joyful points in their conversations that she would overplay her reactions, laugh a bit too hard and like, slap her knee or something stupid like that. But that time, the reference had gone right over her head and then slapped her right in the back, enough to make her fall over and collapse. She was doing her best to get up and rebuild that hole in her wall again, but it was difficult and she could feel herself coming undone by every passing second.

As if sensing her panic - or maybe just seeing it as it was displayed on her face - Vanya moved forward and gently touched her hand. “I didn’t mean to start anything, or - or say something wrong.”

“Oh. No. NO, you did nothing wrong.”

“But-”

“-sorry, I just lost my train of thought and along with it went my brain, I guess.” Y/N was back to smiling, but it was fake as shit and both of them knew it. “What were we talking about?”

“Hey...is ev-what’s wrong, Y/N?”

She knew Vanya was only trying to be nice - and genuinely nice, as sign by her changing the bland ‘are you okay’ to a real question. She also knew that she had dug herself into a really, really deep hole and it was going to take a whole shit tonne of climbing to get out of it. And this time, she was not sure a smack on the lips was going to solve the issue.

“Would you believe me if I say I’m all good?” Y/N tried weakly, only to sign and slump into the couch when her head shook no. “Alright. Uh...you got anything stronger than coffee? This is a douzy.”

“I think I can handle it. Considering...everything.”

She laughed bitterly from between her friend’s couch cushions, then attempting to smother herself between them. It did not work, but it was nice to hide her face for a quick moment. “This might just be more surprising then everything else, Vannie...believe me.”

Vanya came back quickly with the glasses, and Y/N hesitated none to gulp the drink down regardless of the burn. After that, she struggled through the entire story, the ups and downs and even the stupid little anecdotes shared between her and Diego just to make it seem a bit funnier than it was - like it was just a fun game and not her love life being through around and about like nuts. But honestly recounting it back just made it sound even more dismal and humiliating and plain-out weirder. More than it already was to her.

Vanya was silent throughout it all, simply nodding along and letting her speak without pause. She supposed that was a good thing, she was grateful there was no need to stop - mostly because if she did, she might just never speak again.

Y/N finished it off with a sigh and a wry smile, raising her glass to her lips in an attempt to get the last drops out, sans manners and any grace. “That’s that,” she grumbled. “That’s...that’s that.”

And all Vanya said to that, was a quiet, monotone, rather emotionless, “oh.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Oh? That’s it?”

“Well - I don’t - I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just unexpected,” she offered up. When the only response was a quirk of her eyebrows, Vanya moved to explain. “I just thought...you two really had just gone for it. Like we had always teased you two about.”

Her cheeks bloomed with colour, forcing Y/N to duck her head and hide the flush. Not that it did much good, the splotchy red was much too eager to show her embarrassment then appease her. “No. ‘Fraid not. We’re just friends...who are now pretending to be sleeping with each other.”

“But why?”

She shrugged haplessly. “He wanted a break from everyone dogging him about being single, I guess...and I didn’t have anything better to do. I figure do ‘im a favour, he does one back, we’re even - except I didn’t really think it’d be this...big.” As in, she did not imagine kissing him. In front of his entire family, sans Five and their dear old dead daddy.

And also, actually fucking enjoying it.

“And technically, we’re not supposed to say a word to anyone, it’s on the list - but man, I just, I just need to talk to someone about this.” She gratefully accepted the second drink, swallowing it down in three hearty gulps. “I feel like I’m drowning.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. I mean, I agreed to this, right? And it’s my fault for thinking this could be a walk in the park. I just thought...I don’t know what I thought. I guess I didn’t.”

Vanya smiled a little at that, and finally moved, walking around her coffee table to take a seat beside Y/N. She took the other’s hand in hers, squeezing ever so lightly. “It’ll be okay. It’s only a couple months, right?”

“I guess, but I feel like I’m already screwing it all up. I mean, it’s been like a week and a half? And I’ve already made a fool in front of everyone, and kissed him - and then blurted out the secret to someone! I mean, I might as well propose to him and then tell him our entire friendship is a lie, too!”

Despite herself, Vanya grinned, finding the humour in Y/N’s words, despite the panic on her face. She squeezed her hand a little tighter. “You’ll be okay.”

“How do you know that, though?”

“Because,” she replied slowly, “you told someone, but just one. And I’m not going to say a word to him. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“...and you didn’t make a fool out of yourself, really. You guys were cute. And everyone believed it, mostly because they’ve all secretly wanted you two to get together for years. I mean, since the moment they first heard your name leave Diego’s lips, Allison was making wedding invitations and Klaus was coming up with the worst moments to drop hints about you. I’m surprised you never caught them,” Vanya finished, lip curling a little at the memories.

Y/N knew enough about the siblings’ thoughts about her and Diego. It was unavoidable and for the most part she was fine with them conspiring. It was only when the mention of Diego came up, when one of them said something alluding to the fact that maybe he talked about her a little more than mere friends...that maybe there was a whole lot she did not know about.

Just as she was going to ask Vanya what she was referring to, the other girl cut her off. “And the kiss, like you said it was nothing. You had to do it, and it didn’t mean anything. So you’re still okay.”

And at that, she felt all the blood that had flooded her face drain right out, leaving her pale and panicked next to her close friend. And just like before, there was no hiding her expression or the plain out anxiety attack raging underneath her skin.

It did not take a wizard, to figure out what had caused it.

“Oh, Y/N-”

“-I don’t know, it just-”

“-Y/N...”

Y/N slumped back and covered her face with the cushion, groaning loudly into the fabric. “Shit.”

||

WHEN HE CAME BY THAT NIGHT, she was cold. 

Polite, and caring as always - but cold in her actions, in her few-word replies, in the way she shied away from any near-touch possibly laid upon her skin.

It was not intentional, at least not at the start. She was a mess most of the afternoon and early evening, but then as the sun fell and the hours crept away faster and faster, she felt herself close off. Even from herself. Like she had rebuilt that wall but it had been built too high and too close, so everything was left out of her heart. Not enough so it could not hurt, not so she could not feel waves of guilt every time she did something stand-offish - but enough to make it continue.

She knew he felt it too, but neither said a thing on it. For that, she was grateful. It was easier to move in silence then have to stop and think about the storm in her head. Mostly? Because if she did let her guard down maybe even a second, she might collapse entirely. And no one could have that.

“Here. Take these.”

His only response was a grunt and a nod, fingers barely brushing hers to take the small pills. She pushed back her worries and maintained the same blank expression, watching as he dry-swallowed the Advil. When he was done, she pushed off the coffee table.

“Need anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay. Shower, there’s some of your shit in the dryer now you can change into. Come in when you’re done.”

“I’ll just-”

“-you’re not goin’ anywhere,” she barked. For a moment, she softened, considering a sweeter tone and more reason than shouting orders. But quickly that idea shrivelled up. “It’s late. You need rest. You’re already here anyways.”

“I’m not-”

“-Diego, please.”

He finally left the couch. She heard him moving behind her, but dared not turn to look his way. Instead, her eyes remained train forward, frozen on the window he had come through Watching, tracing the frame, paralysed in replaying all the instances in which she had stood there before. 

“What did I do?”

Her eyes clenched shut, squeezing with all her might; gone was the window, replaced only by darkness. “Nothing. I’m just tired.” A slight pause, then: “sorry.”

“There’s more than that, isn’t there?” Slow, stumbling steps in the shallow dark walked her way. They remained a distance away - and yet she felt like he was right there. “I did something.”

“No.”

“Bullshit. You’re upset - at me.” There was bitter humour in his voice then. “I’ve known you too long to believe any of your lies.”

When Y/N opened her eyes again, they watered and struggled to even make out the shadows, finding the night still pressing into her skull. Digging its claws in, trying to wrench out all her fears and emotions and the shit she had buried deep deep deep within. Offer up her heart on a silver platter and leave her dead in the process.

She smiled ever so slightly. In the words of Cher fucking Horowitz, ‘as if’. No weepy confessions to be made that night.

Instead, she turned and made her lips turn up more, into a more believable grin. “I’m sorry. It’s been - it’s been a long week, feels like everything’s hitting me. I didn’t mean to take that out on you.”

“I-I know-”

“-it’s okay,” she murmured, voice hitching at his slight stutter. “It’s fine. Seriously, Diego, I just need to sleep this off. And uh, so do you.”

Diego sighed, hesitating as he thought over his words before pushing forward. “Why do you put up with me, do all this?”

“I’m not doing much.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“Sleep is overrated, you and I both know that.”

“Come on.”

“I’m being serious!”

“You’re exhausted, Y/N.”

She shrugged lightly. “Maybe. But I’d rather sacrifice an hour or two if - if it means I know you’re alright.”

Those words not the words that she had originally planned on saying. But they came out anyways, and hung heavily in the air, a wall of tension that left both sides unsure of what came next.

Before he could try and pry, ask about those softly spoken words, about the way her voice cracked a little at the end, she spoke. “I’m your girlfriend, Diego, can you blame me for caring about you getting home safe or not? I mean, I can’t have the love of my life dead in a fuckin’ alley somewhere.”

At that, she just smiled and turned, hurrying off to her room. She heard him speak, but it was too soft to pick up, and so she discarded it with the rest of the conversation. Just let herself sink into the blankets once more and shut her eyes, begging for sleep even when her brain was more awake than ever. Like she could sleep, after this. She never did.

Y/N listened instead as he moved around, shuffling into the bathroom and starting up the shower. He was brief, only a few moments before the water turned off and he was back to quietly rustling around. Soon enough, maybe ten minutes or so and he was in the doorway of her bedroom.

She shut her eyes and pretended to be already asleep, just as she always did. Let him feel safe within the darkness, moving to the other side and slipping under the covers. He laid still and at the edge, as always, still as anything so as not to overstep any boundaries. Sometimes, she smiled at that - other times, she longed for him to roll over and move close to her, put his arms around her and-

-with a start, Y/N realised that the silence had been broken by him. He had sighed, followed by a soft sniffle. She dared not move even a muscle, frozen against her pillow as Diego groaned once more and adjusted his pillow. 

And just when she thought it was over, he spoke. Just three words, soft as a breath. If it were not for the heavy silence, she would not have caught it, but he might as well had shouted it in that instant.

“You fucking idiot.”

Y/N dared to breathe, soft and slow, attempting to play asleep. But even if she wasn’t pulling it off, she was not sure if he even heard, so wrapped up in his own thoughts. 

Not for the first time, she longed to roll over and touch him, reassure him she was there with him. Ask what was on his mind, and if their thoughts paralleled in any way or form. But like always, they remained on opposite ends, too eager to maintain a friendship to overstep. She remained still and staring out into the darkness, listening to her exhales matching with his own shallow breaths.

Neither of them would sleep much, that night.

TAGLIST -  @asexualmarauder​ @thatshellfiredean​ @the-bird-suit​  @rangotangomango​ @fandomsandmore394​ @thatkidofwarandpeace​ @antoouu @soul-of-a-traveller​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @artsyle��

[phantasticworks]

If You Don’t Love Me, Pretend - Chapter Nine

Hi everyone!! Thank you so much for all the lovely comments on the last chapter, it literally makes me so happy to see everyone enjoying this story so far! <3 I hope you all are staying safe and taking care of yourselves in quarantine!!

read on ao3

Words: 10.7k

Summary: The twins have their first day of school and Dan and Phil find out some new information about their family. 

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing, mentions of past trauma (but very subtle)

Surprisingly, Dan manages to get through a few hours of work without any serious incidents reported to him, but every chance he gets, he checks his phone for any new messages. Eventually, he opens it to find something he constitutes as a mild emergency and decides to take a break to give it his full attention.

Phil: So I have a tiny headache the twins will be fine if I go have a lie down for a bit yeah?

Dan: are you feeling dizzy?

Phil: Not really? Just tired and my eyes hurt.

Dan: take your contacts out and go have a nap

Phil: Yeah?

Dan: yeah they should be fine i hope you feel better

Phil: :)

He doesn’t text Phil back, his stomach twisting with nerves at the thought that Phil is there alone with the kids with a headache. He wasn’t so worried about him not being able to take care of the kids, but he was very concerned about the migraine. Phil’s doctor had already warned him to not overwork himself. Suddenly Dan starts wondering if he’s been putting too much of his own work on Phil.

Dan worries himself about this for the next half hour or so, but when his phone dings, he welcomes the distraction.

Phil: The kids are literally playing so loud. Like they’re perfectly fine but they’re in their room and they’re like SCREAMING

Dan: just put in some headphones and drown them

Dan: OUT drown them OUT

Dan: Do not drown our children.

Phil: LMAO

Phil: Stop making me laugh it’s making my head hurt more.

Dan: :( im sorry love. I’ll be home soon to take care of you

Phil: Don’t be silly, I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself.

Dan: im going to pretend you didnt just try and pass up my servitude

Dan: dont be noble or whatever you know i dont mind taking care of you

Phil: I know. Thank you.

Dan: if you feel like getting up take some medicine and maybe put a movie on upstairs for the kids? I should be home in an hour

Phil: Alright. See you later.

Dan: <3

Dan hurries to finish the document he’s working on, and he’s out of the office within half an hour. He stops at a shop and grabs some chocolate and a pack of little marshmallows that Phil likes, mainly just to cheer him up, since it wasn’t a cure for a migraine by a longshot. He considers getting takeaway, but he knows they’ve already agreed to stop doing that so much, for the kids’ sake.

When he gets home, the flat is mostly quiet, only the soft sound of the TV drifting down the stairs. He toes his shoes off quietly before making his way to his bedroom, the door left slightly ajar. The light is off, but there’s a lump under the duvet in the form of his best friend. He can tell from his breathing and the tense set of his shoulders that he’s not asleep, as hard as he’s probably trying to do just that.

“Phil?” Dan murmurs, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

Phil rolls over, his eyes finding Dan in the darkness of the room. “Hey,” he rasps out. Dan studies him, frowning when he notes how red Phil’s eyes look.

“Did you take your contacts out?” He asks, his voice bordering on accusing.

“Yes.”

“Have you… Were you crying?” Dan asks softly.

Phil hesitates before shrugging, wincing a little at the movement. “My head just really hurts,” he breathes.

Dan’s heart squeezes painfully seeing the pain Phil is going through. “Oh, love,” he sighs. He stands up, moving towards the bathroom. “Hold on, let me get something.” He runs a cloth under hot water, squeezing the water out to use it as a hot compress. They really needed to invest in some of those, honestly. “Here,” he says softly, brushing Phil’s hair off his forehead and playing the towel gently over his forehead. “Wait right here, I’m going to get you some coffee.”

“I don’t really-”

“I know, babe, but you know it helps. You don’t have to drink all of it, yeah?”

He watches Phil’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Okay,” he whispers, his eyes closing.

Dan hurries to the kitchen and quickly makes Phil a cup of coffee, racking his brain for anything else that might help him. He comes up short, so when the coffee is ready, he takes it back to their bedroom. “Sit up for me?” Phil follows his instructions and reaches out for the mug, his hands shaking more than usual. “I’ll hold it,” Dan mumbles.

After Phil’s sipped all he can handle, Dan allows him to lay back down. “I’m going to go check on the kids and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Surprising him, Phil shakes his head a little. “No, I just- I need to sleep,” he says pleadingly.

Dan hesitates, but nods uncertainly. “Okay. I’ll shut the door, then… But you have to text me if you need anything.”

“I will,” Phil agrees.

Nodding, Dan moves to leave the room, pausing when he hears Phil’s voice again. “Hm?”

“I said thank you.”

His heart melting, Dan walks back over and presses a kiss to Phil’s cheek. “Of course,” he murmurs. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

Phil only nods, his eyes closing again, his eyelashes fluttering. Dan hopes sleep finds him easily this time, and he really hopes he has the best dreams.

Dan finds his way upstairs and spends some time with the twins, who are very worried about Phil apparently. He assures them that he’s fine, and they watch a movie quietly before Dan heads back downstairs to start dinner and check on Phil. He stops in their room first, quietly opening the door and slipping inside.

“Phil?” He calls softly.

Phil doesn’t stir, and Dan quietly tiptoes over, finding the towel discarded on the floor. He notices that Phil’s coffee cup is a little emptier, which he takes as a good sign. He smiles a little, but what really warms him is when he studies Phil. He’s not on his own side of the bed this time. Instead, he’s migrated over to Dan’s and he’s got Dan’s pillow wrapped in his arms, his nose buried in the fabric. A tiny part of Dan wonders if feeling closer to him helped Phil sleep. He finds that he likes that idea quite a lot. However, it’s a stupid thought, and he discards it quickly.

He presses his hand gently to Phil’s forehead to check for a temperature. Luckily, he feels fine, maybe even a bit chilly. Dan tugs the duvet over him, making sure he doesn’t get cold. With another lingering look, he tiptoes out of the room to go make dinner for everyone, a secret grin on his lips.

~~~

The night before the first day of school was rough. For Dan, at least. The kids were surprisingly excited to be starting at such a good school, and Phil was excited that they were excited. Dan, however, was a bit of a nervous wreck. He knew there was no reason for him to be particularly nervous, but those first-day-of-school jitters had never left him for some reason, and even now that it wasn’t his first day at a new school, he still felt anxiety swelling up in his chest the night before.

“Could you turn your volume down a bit, love?” Phil mumbles from his spot on the bed beside Dan.

Dan startles a bit, not realizing that Phil was still awake and could hear the music he was playing on his phone. “Sorry,” he whispers back, turning the volume down a couple notches.

Phil hums and there’s a moment of quiet before there’s a shifting on the mattress, accompanied by a weight pressing down on Dan’s waist, in the form of Phil’s arm. “Are you going to sleep tonight?” Phil murmurs against the shell of Dan’s ear.

Shivering lightly at the brush of his lips, Dan shrugs. “Maybe. Can’t sleep right now. Too anxious.”

“Yeah?” Phil responds. “Wanna talk about it?”

Dan mulls it over before shrugging, unconsciously allowing his hand to fall to Phil’s arm, where he begins stroking gently. “I don’t want the kids to get bullied. I’m afraid that if anyone asks about their parents or their home life, they’ll tell them they’re living with us.”

Phil seems to pause to take this in. “And you don’t want anyone knowing that they live with us?” He sounds confused, and he has every right to, because Dan’s not quite sure that’s it, but he’s even less sure about how he wants to describe it.

“No, it’s not that, I just… I don’t want them to get made fun of, for us. Like, for having two dads? I know we aren’t- I don’t really know how to describe it.” Dan lets out a frustrated huff, his anxiety about the whole thing making it even harder to formulate a cohesive thought about it.

“I think I get it, Dan. You don’t want the kids to have to deal with those little homophobic twats that they’ll inevitably encounter. But, we can’t do anything about someone else’s kids and their homophobia, Dan. What we can do is raise ours to be compassionate and accepting, you know?” Phil strokes his thumb against Dan’s hipbone, lightly raking his t-shirt up with every stroke.

Completely without his permission, tears spring to Dan’s eyes, and he knows that he’s likely going to start sobbing if Phil doesn’t change the subject soon. Something else prickles at the back of his mind then, and he can’t help but stop the movement of his hand against Phil’s arm in contemplation. “You say “ours” an awful lot now,” he comments.

Phil stiffens, and his movement against Dan’s skin slows to a stop. “Is that a problem?” he asks cautiously.

Dan can feel his face heating up, and he ducks his head, pretending to be focused on his phone, where the Spotify app is still quietly playing music. “No… I like it. It makes me feel like we’re really a family.” The words are whispered, and Dan almost wishes he’d muffled them against his arm.

There’s a breath of quiet laughter then, followed by the feeling of Phil fully relaxing against Dan’s back. “We are.”

Dan turns off his Spotify playlist and locks his phone, tossing it onto his nightstand for the night. There’s a brief flare of uncertainty that Phil might not appreciate the closeness, but Dan pushes that thought away and presses himself back, snuggling into Phil’s warmth.

Phil hums, a content noise that resonates through Dan’s body in their closeness, and Dan smiles in response. “Night,” he whispers, closing his eyes.

“Night, bear.” There’s definitely a kiss pressed to the back of his head, but for once Dan doesn’t feel like he should pretend he didn’t notice. He doesn’t call him out on it, but when he feels Phil’s breathing evening up behind him, he tugs the hand Phil had settled on his waist, lifting it gently to press a kiss to his palm.

It’s nothing, he reminds himself firmly as he allows himself to drift to sleep. It was just a little selfish moment. Everyone is a little selfish once in awhile.

~~~

“Bear? It’s time to get up, come on, I made breakfast.” The voice was too close to Dan’s ear, and it made him whine in protest, squeezing his eyes shut tighter.

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbles, rolling over to speak into his pillow.

Phil laughs, and a second later Dan feels Phil’s hands carding through his hair. “Daniel,” he says firmly.

Dan groans, tilting his head enough to open one eye. Phil’s face is close, and there’s a soft sort of smile on his face. “Don’t use your dad voice on me.”

“My what?” Phil says through a laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Dan rolls over onto his back, tossing his head over to the side and pressing his forehead against Phil’s thigh. “You know. Your dad voice. That’s exactly how you talk to the kids when you’re pretending to be stern.” His voice is slightly muffled into Phil’s pajama pants, and he ignores the way that feels slightly inclined to press his lips to the flannel.

“I do not!” Phil protests, tugging on Dan’s curls.

“Ow,” Dan whines. “You do, but I’ll let you keep thinking that you don’t.”

Phil huffs loudly. “Whatever. It’s time to get up, the kids are already eating their breakfast, and you need to get up.”

“Ugh, fine.” Despite his half-assed agreement, Dan makes no move to get out of the bed. He thinks he’s gotten away with this when he feels the bed shifting with Phil’s weight, and he snuggles back into the blankets, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

“I’ve gotten the kids’ lunch- Dan!” Phil’s voice pitches up an octave, as he apparently realizes that Dan has yet to get out of bed.

“What? I’m going, I’m going,” He whines, rolling over to face the opposite way. “I just need… a few more minutes…”

“Daniel James, if you aren’t out of that bed in one minute, there will be consequences.” Phil’s voice is hard, and Dan can tell he’s likely getting annoyed, and maybe not in a joking way.

Grumbling under his breath, Dan rolls out of bed, coming to stand in front of Phil. “I’m up, don’t get your knickers in a wad.” He crosses his arms over his chest, which probably just proves how childish he’s being.

Phil tilts his head, a soft look in his eyes. “You’re…” He stops himself, and Dan arches an eyebrow.

“I’m what?”

Without so much as another word, Phil steps forward, wrapping an arm around Dan’s waist and pressing his lips to his forehead sweetly. “You’re being a brat, but I know you’re tired, so I’ll let you be grumpy. Pancakes are on the table.”

Dan doesn’t even have a moment to reply before Phil is stepping away, out the bedroom door as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

Shaking his head slowly, Dan makes his way over to the bathroom. After a quick wee, he washes his hands and makes his way to the kitchen, the scent of pancakes leading him in. He needs to shower, but pancakes are far more important to him right now, and he knows he should eat first anyway. The sound of voices makes him smile, especially when he recognizes Phil’s, telling the kids that they can go wild with the toppings.

“Don’t get them jacked up on sugar, Phil, we don’t want their poor teachers to have breakdowns on the first day of school,” Dan says, rolling his eyes as he enters the kitchen, bumping Phil’s hip as he goes over to the coffee pot.

Phil glances over at him, shrugging innocently. “I did nothing. I’m just an innocent bystander, honestly.”

Dan quirks a brow at him as he pours himself a cup of coffee, his gaze sliding over to the twins, who are both hiding smiles as they pile treats atop their pancakes. He shoots Phil a pointed look, and the older man’s face flushes. “Mhm,” Dan hums disbelievingly.

“Come on, Dan! It’s the first day of school! They deserve to have a good breakfast for that,” Phil protests, holding his hands together as if he’s praying. He puts on his best pitiful expression, clearly begging for mercy with his breakfast shenanigans.

Rolling his eyes at the ridiculous expression on his best friend’s face, Dan pushes past him, going to sit at the table. “Fine, but you have to do the dishes when we’re done.” At Phil’s answering pout, Dan shakes his head. “Nope, not gonna work. They’re going to be all sticky, and you’ve created this mess, bub.”

“Fine,” Phil sighs petulantly, dropping into the chair beside Dan. “I guess I can do the dishes.”

Dan smiles sweetly. “I guess you can too. Now, let me see those marshmallows.”

After eating too much of a too-sweet breakfast, Dan sends the kids to get ready for school, calling after them to remember to brush their teeth and wash the syrup off their faces. He takes one glance at the state of the dining table and decides to take pity on Phil. Sighing, he begins gathering up all of their condiments and moving to go place them in the cupboards where they belong.

“Did you change your mind about the dishes by any chance?” Phil asks sweetly, smiling with his tongue poking between his teeth.

Dan rolls his eyes at the suggestion. “Nope. But if I don’t put these up, you’ll probably eat them as soon as I turn my back.”

Phil mumbles something that’s probably a protest, but Dan dutifully ignores him. “Can we do a family picture with the kids before they leave?” He asks suddenly, turning away from where he’d begun washing their dishes.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Dan replies slowly. “What made you think of that?” He asks softly, moving to place some of the sweets in a cupboard beside Phil. He stays there even after he’s closed the door, leaning his back against the counter and facing Phil, his arms crossed.

“I don’t know, I just…” Phil shrugs helplessly then, looking a little lost for whatever reason. “I want to remember those kinds of things, you know? Like, this is our first assignment, and I want to have memories of them when they go back home, or… wherever,” Phil’s voice drops off, and Dan can tell the idea bothers him just as much.

Pulse suddenly racing, Dan steps behind him, cautiously looping his arms around Phil’s waist and setting his chin on the older man’s shoulder. “I know it’s tough to think about them going home,” he whispers.

Inconveniently, his heart rate picks up further, jackhammering into the other man’s shoulder blades.

There’s a hand in his hair then, fingers threading through the curls. “It’s their first day of school with us,” Phil says helplessly. “I’m so excited for them, but...” His voice sounds froggy and snotty, and Dan has never related more.

“Yeah,” Dan breathes out softly.

Dan doesn’t let the hug linger. He extricates himself from Phil’s personal bubble and fusses with his hair instead of pulling him closer, holding him longer. Phil’s gaze darts to him for a moment, but he drops it back to the dishes in the sink. A glance at the clock confirms that he needs to hurry up and shower if he’s going to make it to work on time. “I have to shower, sorry.” He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for, other than for the firm set of Phil’s mouth as he putters with the dishware.

When he finishes showering, he hurries to get dressed so he can go put together lunch for himself and the kids, running through a mental list in his head of all the things he needed to remember to grab before he left. He’s a little more stressed than he’d anticipated, but he’s sure that when they’re in the car he’ll feel less nervous. He just needed to get everything together first, and then he’d be fine.

He stumbles into the kitchen as he tugs on a black sock, not paying attention to his surroundings. When he trips over his own foot, he’s fully prepared to go crashing to the floor and probably die or something, but before he can, he feels himself being caught.

“You need to slow down or you’re going to kill yourself,” Phil laughs, steadying him by his shoulders. It’s a completely different Phil than the one he had left in the kitchen twenty minutes before.

“I’m in a hurry!” Dan pulls the sock on with one final tug and hops deftly out of Phil’s lingering touch, headed for the twins’ lunchboxes.

Except they’ve vanished.

He stops, squinting at the empty space on the counter. He knew for a fact that he’d left them right there, and now they were just… gone. What the hell?

He whirls around, his eyes flittering around the room as he struggles to locate them.

“Looking for something?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, the fucking-“ Dan pauses as he glances over at Phil, something in his voice striking his interest.

Phil rolls his eyes before shooting a pointed glance over at the edge of the table, where the lunchboxes were sitting neatly with the twins’ backpacks and Dan’s laptop bag.

“Oh,” Dan says slowly, a little confused. “Did you-?” He hesitates, looking over to Phil with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, I packed lunch. Yours too.” Phil nods back to the table then, and Dan’s gaze catches on the extra lunchbox on the table.

Dan’s inconvenient heart is warm. “Oh,” he repeats, sort of lost now that he has nothing to do. “Thank you.”

Phil grins at him. “I told you there were things I could do.”

Dan rolls his eyes at this, crossing his arms as Phil moves away from the refrigerator. “I never said you couldn’t,” Dan reminds him helpfully.

“Yeah, well,” Phil shrugs then. “Your mum,” he mutters, quite predictably.

Dan giggles, but before he can bant back, they hear the sound of feet running toward the kitchen. “No running in the house, guys!” Dan calls, smirking when the sound of the stampede quiets immediately. Phil rolls his eyes at this, but smiles broadly at the kids when they walk in. “Everyone ready for school?” He asks brightly, his optimism infectious.

The twins nod excitedly, and Amelia quickly moves to put her backpack on. “I’m ready to go!” She says excitedly.

“Hold on just a second, Mia, Dan and I want to get some pictures of you and your brother on your first day of school,” he says, gesturing for her to put her backpack back on the table.

“Where do you want them to stand?” Dan asks, moving to stand closer to Phil and handing him his phone that had been on the edge of the table.

“Hmm… Balcony, maybe? That would be a nice background,” Phil suggests, nodding to the patio behind them.

Dan nods, gesturing for the kids to go ahead of him. “Go stand beside the plant out there, that’ll look nice.” He ushers them over to it and positions them in front of it, straightening Jaiden’s little tie as he does. “There we go. Mia, did you brush your hair this morning?”

Amelia nods, running a hand through it to prove that it’s tangle-free. “Yes!”

“Good, I’ll spray some hairspray in it before we go- are they good, Phil?” Dan interrupts himself to ask, stepping back and studying their poses with a curious eye.

Phil nods, tugging on Dan’s shirt. “Yeah, now get out of the way a little,” he teases as he brings the phone up to snap some photos. “Alright, say school!”

The kids grin and say the word simultaneously, and Dan’s heart is filled with warmth at how genuinely excited they seem, though his stomach churned at the idea that their school experience might turn out like his. He reminds himself that things are different, times have changed and schools must be better. Hopefully he’s right.

“Alright, selfie time!” Phil announces, tugging on Dan’s arm to drag him over beside the children.

“What?” He asks, trying to hold his laughter in.

“I want pictures of all of us, too!” He rolls his eyes as if it’s the most obvious thing, but doesn’t give Dan any more time to protest, as he’s crouching down and holding the phone out. “Well come on, Dan we don’t have all day,” he says, gesturing for Dan to copy his pose.

A warm feeling floods his chest at the idea of this, these family pictures that really don’t even begin to showcase all that they had to go through to be in these children’s lives. He smiles for the camera, but he can feel the emotion welling up in his chest as he waits for Phil to give them another arbitrary word to say for the picture.

As soon as they’re finished with the pictures, Dan sends the kids to get their backpacks and lunchboxes, turning to look at Phil, who’s scrolling through the pictures with a smile. “Send me those?” He requests softly. Phil glances up at him, his lips falling into a smaller, more affectionate smile.

“Of course,” he replies. “C’mere.”

Before Dan can protest, Phil latches onto his shirt and tugs him closer, opening his camera app and holding his phone out. “What-” Dan starts, glancing between Phil and the phone.

“I wanted a selfie of just us,” Phil says in lieu of an explanation.

Dan is staring at the side of his head, ruining any chance of a good selfie probably, as he considers how genuinely sweet his best friend is. Uncomfortably aware of the camera on him, Dan leans forward, pressing his lips to Phil’s cheek. He hears the shutter of the camera, but he doesn’t even care, tilting his head to smile and flick out a peace sign at it for a proper selfie.

There’s another click before Phil drops his arm, tapping the photos to get a better look at them. A smile tugs at his lips as Dan watches his face. “These are good,” he says softly. He lingers on the first one a little longer than the second but locks his phone and clears his throat after a moment, locking eyes with Dan. “C’mon, time for school.” He leads the way back inside, disappearing down the hallway to allow Dan some space to get his things together.

A few moments later and Dan’s ready to go, and he walks down the hall to find the kids waiting beside the door, listening to Phil, who’s crouched in front of them and speaking quietly. Dan can’t catch his words at first, but when he gets closer he realizes that Phil is telling them what he packed for their lunch and what to do if they don’t understand something in class. “You can raise your hand if you don’t understand, or just wait and ask me or Dan when you get home, and we’ll try to explain, okay? Make sure to use good manners with all your teachers and find good kids to be friends with.”

Dan smiles at Phil as he stops to listen to him, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms as he watches the twins react to his words. Amelia nods eagerly, but Jaiden’s eyes flicker away from Phil and over to Dan mid-lecture, a little grin making its way onto his face. Phil seems to pick up on this, and he tosses a quick glance over his shoulder at Dan, an apologetic look on his face. “Don’t let me interrupt you,” Dan gestures for him to continue. “You’re giving them some solid advice, I’ll be quiet until you’re finished.”

Phil shakes his head and stands, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck and looking a little awkward. “No, I was finished, actually. Got your keys and your phone?” He asks, turning around to face Dan.

“Yeah, Dad, I’ve got all my stuff,” Dan rolls his eyes, giving the kids a cheeky grin as he speaks.

Phil gives Dan an unamused stare. “Alright, Smarty Pants,” he grumbles. “Have a good day at work, be careful driving.”

Dan nods in response and goes to open the door. “C’mon, kiddos, time for school.”

Jaiden turns to follow Dan, but Amelia immediately moves towards Phil. Dan almost calls her back before he realizes what she’s doing.

Phil looks up at Dan in shock as Amelia wraps her arms around his waist in a hug. “Bye, Phil, I hope you have a lovely day,” she says sweetly.

An odd look covers Phil’s face as he looks down at her, and Dan almost worries that he might start crying. But then he’s grinning and petting her hair affectionately. “I’ll be fine, Mia, I’ve got to go to work later too, you know.”

Amelia nods at this and lets go of him, and Dan watches in mild surprise as Jaiden takes her place. He’d seemed the less affectionate of the two of them. Still, Jaiden seems completely comfortable going over to give Phil a hug in the same manner as his sister had, squeezing Phil tightly with a small smile. “Bye Phil, see you later.”

“Bye guys, love you, have a good day,” Phil calls after them as they move past Dan and out the door, his eyes catching Dan’s gaze. His face appears a little pinker, and Dan wonders if it has anything to do with the likely incredibly fond look that he’s shooting him right now. “What?” He says defensively, the color on his cheeks darkening when Dan only smirks.

“Nothing,” Dan sings, shaking his head as he moves out the door. “You’re just being a good dad and I’m proud of you,” he admits more quietly, the grin on his face softening into a genuine smile.

Phil rolls his eyes at this, but Dan can tell he’s fighting a smile. “Go, before you’re late.” He shoves Dan’s shoulder gently, moving him out the door faster.

“I’m going, I’m going. See you later.”

“Text me when you get to work,” is the last thing Phil says before closing the door behind Dan.

The twins are standing patiently, and Amelia has a toothy grin on her face. “What?” He asks her somewhat defensively, a little embarrassed at the playful scene they’d just witnessed.

Amelia only shrugs then, holding her hand out for Dan to take like he normally does to lead them to the garage. “You’re bein’ a good dad too,” she says simply, holding her other hand out for Jaiden, although he just shoves it away. Amelia frowns and moves to grab his hand anyway, and he slaps her hand this time.

“Jai, don’t hit your sister,” Dan says half-heartedly, his heart still jumping at the sweet thing she’d just said to him.

Jaiden reluctantly takes his sister’s hand, and a smile lights up her face as they move into the elevator. Dan allows her to press the button for the garage, watching with amusement at the relief that floods Jaiden’s face when she drops his hand. Sneakily, he moves around to Dan’s other side, tucking his hands into his pockets. He shoots a glance up at Dan and gives him a sheepish look, but Dan only winks at him. He understood the need for personal space, and honestly they were big enough not to need to hold his hand walking from the elevator to the car in a secluded parking garage, anyway.

The drive to the school is full of excited chatter from the backseat, and Dan tunes out of their conversation for the most part, spending most of his mental energy on running through a mental list of things he needed to do when he got to work, as well as thinking about where he needed to take the twins when he got them to their building. It seems like the drive was way too short by the time they get to the primary school, and Dan’s stomach churns with nerves for the children as he sees all the other parents leading their kids in. He hopes and prays that they’re okay today, and he hopes his wishes are heard by someone, somewhere.

“Are you two going to be embarrassed if I walk you inside?” Dan asks, hoping they say no.

Luck must be on his side, because both of them shake their heads before insisting they want him to walk them inside. This time, he makes both of them take one of his hands to walk them inside, talking quietly about how much fun they’re going to have and how he can’t wait to hear all about their day when they get home. “And I’ll be here waiting for you guys as soon as school’s over, okay? And you can tell me all about your day and what you did, alright?”

The twins both nod and mumble their affirmatives, but Dan can tell they’re getting antsy and ready to go. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan sees Esme, the counselor of the primary school. He smiles at her, and she responds with a wave as she makes her way over.

“Dan Howell! I thought that was you, but I wasn’t so sure. I almost forgot that you had two little ones in school this year!” She says pleasantly, smiling broadly at the twins.

“Yep, this is Amelia and Jaiden,” he tells her, nodding to each of them as he says their names.

Esme crouches down and smiles at them. “I’m Miss Esme. I’m the counselor here, and an old friend of Mr. Howell’s.” She winks at Dan then, and he tries to hide a grimace as his stomach churns uncomfortably. He’d almost forgotten the reason he didn’t care much for her, but there it was, the blatant flirtation, despite the fact that she was at work.

The twins move slightly closer to Dan, a little shy about a new person he was sure. He tries to smile apologetically at Esme. “They’re just a little shy at first. They’re very excited to meet their teachers, though,” He informs her, squeezing their little hands reassuringly. He hopes they know that they’re safe here, and he really hopes he’s not wrong about assuming that.

“Oh, I bet! Well, I can take them, if you’re off to work?” She says helpfully, standing up and smiling at Dan. Without giving him a chance to respond, she reaches up and runs a hand down his arm, leaning in a little closer. “I know you’ve probably got a lot to do.”

Dan forces a smile onto his face. “No, thank you.”

“No, really! It’s no problem, I’m sure you don’t have time to go get their schedules and find their classrooms and everything. Believe me, I get it, single parenting and everything, and the first day of school is always just the worst,” Esme smiles knowingly, probably assuming that she’s doing him a favor. She holds her hands out as if to take the twins’ hands, but they shrink back closer to him. If she notices this, she doesn’t respond to it.

“No, actually-“ Dan realizes something then as he replays her wording over in his head again. She must have no idea that he’s not a single parent. The idea that she’s just assuming he’s still single is for some reason hilarious to him even though technically, secretly, it’s true. “My fiancé and I got their schedules and everything early and we’ve actually already memorized them, so I think we’re good, actually.” He tries not to sound smug, he really does.

Esme’s face falls at his words, and Dan watches in amusement as she seems to process what exactly this means. “Oh, your… Oh.” She says, deflating.

“Yeah, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to go ahead and take them to their class, but it was great to catch up with you!” Dan nods to her as he begins leading the twins away. “See you later!” He calls as he leads them down the corridor.

“Does she like you?” Amelia asks almost as soon as they’re out of earshot of the woman.

Dan shushes her gently before shrugging. “I don’t know,” He lies. He did know, she’d been flirting with him for years, and had asked him out more than once. He’d always politely declined. There was nothing wrong with her, of course, she was a beautiful, smart woman. Dan just never felt anything for her, and he didn’t want to lead her on or anything. A small part of him is relieved that now he has a valid excuse to get her to go away now, but an even bigger part of him is just weirdly pleased that he gets to claim Phil somehow, even though he knows it isn’t real.

“I think she likes you,” Jaiden chimes in, looking up at Dan with a funny look on his face. “Do you like her too?”

Dan’s mouth drops open at the question, more than a little surprised by it. “What? No, I don’t- I’m engaged to Phil, guys. Do you know what that means?” Amelia shrugs after a moment of consideration, and Jaiden shakes his head. Dan swallows down the bitter taste in his mouth at the lie he’s about to spin to these children. “It means someday we’re going to get married.” His throat burns with the lie, but he chokes it out in spite of himself. “So, no, I don’t like Esme.”

“You like Phil?” Amelia asks, as if she’s just double checking.

Dan nods, hoping this conversation comes to an end soon. “Yep. Just Phil.”

“Huh,” Amelia hums. “Can we go to the park after school?” She asks when they reach the classroom door, completely changing the subject.

Dan lets out a loud laugh at this, not surprised that her child attention-span didn’t want to linger on the whole Phil situation. He wasn’t sure how much more convincingly he could lie about that. “We’ll see, okay? You guys be good today for your teachers, and be nice to the other kids, okay? I know you will, so I don’t even have to say it, but I want you guys to have a good day and tell me all about it after school.” Both of them give him a hug then, and he doesn’t bother hiding his grin. “I love you guys, I’ll see you in just a few hours, yeah?”

“Bye!” Amelia chirps as she skips into the classroom, much more of a social butterfly than her brother.

Jaiden pauses, looking a little more apprehensive. Dan crouches down beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be fine, little man. Your sister is going to be right there with you today, yeah? Everything’s okay.” He speaks softly, hoping that none of the kids passing by can hear their conversation. Kids weren’t all bad, but some of them were evil little shits that could practically smell fear, and he didn’t want them to use that against Jaiden.

“Okay,” Jaiden says softly, tugging his backpack strap further up his shoulder. “And you’ll be here when we’re done with school later?” He asks, turning his big brown eyes up at Dan, looking hopeful.

“Yes sir, I’ll be waiting right outside with the other mummies and daddies, okay?”

Jaiden nods and quickly steps closer to Dan, throwing his arms around his neck and giving him a big hug. “Bye, Dan.”

“Love you, bub.” Dan can’t help how choked up he sounds, and he just hopes that Jaiden doesn’t notice.

Stepping away with a wave, Jaiden goes to find his sister in the sea of children already in the classroom.

As Dan walks back to his car, he tugs his phone out of his pocket to send a text to Phil.

Dan: im really loving the whole dad thing rn we’ve got good kids

Phil: The best :)

Dan: is it pretentious to say I think we’re doing a good job

Phil: Nah we’re killing it

Dan: yh we are

Phil: Quit texting and driving Howell

Dan: not

Phil: Lies and slander. Be careful pls

Dan puts his phone into his pocket and the key into the ignition.

He waits until he’s actually in his own office to respond to the text, and he can’t quit smiling at the feeling filling up his chest. Not that he had been specifically miserable or anything lately, but this feeling was great, and he wanted to relish in it.

Dan: k dad im at work now u can quit having a fit about my texting and driving

Phil: Good. I hope you have a good day

Phil: Oh! Check your lunchbox! ;)

Dan falters a little at the winky emoji, something they didn’t often use in their chats, at least not unironically. He’s a little nervous to open the little container, but he does anyway, cautious in case it’s a prank thing.

Instead, he’s surprised to see a little post-it note on the lid of the container. He pulls it off to get a better look and his heart feels fuller as he grins down at the ridiculous doodle Phil had drawn. It’s an (admittedly horrible) doodle of a rat, and above it in Phil’s horrible handwriting, he’s written Dan a little note.

Have a g(r)e(at) day! Xx

Dan can’t help the giggles that fall out at the stupidity of it, but he can’t help but grin. It’s such a Phil thing to do. He tucks it into his top desk drawer, cleaning out a little corner for it before pulling out his phone to text Phil again.

Dan: r u kidding

Phil: Did you like it?

Dan: it’s horrible

Dan: i love it

Phil: :)

Dan: Did you do one for the twins too?

Phil: Yes!

Phil: Well, theirs are nicer, I drew Jai a pigeon and Mia a mermaid

Dan: you’re an actual twelve year old

Phil: In that case, you should probably be arrested

Dan: shut up, im working

Phil: No you aren’t you’re texting me

Dan: go awayyy

Phil: :)

~~~

The first day of school was a success, if the twins’ excited chattering on the way home is anything to go by. Amelia talks incessantly about how Louise’s oldest daughter Darcy is in the same class as them and Jaiden contributes with his own stories about how he sits next to a boy who likes the same dinosaurs as him. He’s sure to inform Dan that he knows more about them than the other boy, but he promises to teach him everything he knows about them.

“So, did you guys like your teacher?” He asks when they’ve pulled into the parking garage of the apartment.

“Yeah!” Amelia nods eagerly. “Mrs. Evans is really nice!”

“Yeah? That’s great!” Dan smiles as he glances back at them through the rearview mirror. “Jai-bird? What do you think about her?”

Jaiden shrugs. “She’s nice but she asked everyone to go ‘round and share something about ourselves with the class and I didn’t like it.”

Dan bites his lip to hide his smirk. He’s honestly still a little shocked at how similar Jaiden is to himself and Phil, and it honestly just makes his heart swell with a weird sense of pride. He isn’t biologically theirs, but he might as well be, considering how similar he is to them. “Yeah? What’d you guys share?” He asks curiously, turning the car off and getting out.

Jaiden, who had been sat behind him, tumbles out of the car, hiking his backpack up on his shoulders as they walk around to Amelia’s side. “I told them I liked pigeons, and then I told them that sometimes we feed them after dinner.”

Dan’s heart flutters at this, and the part of him that’s still overly concerned with homophobic little kids wonders if Jaiden had said anything about the whole “two dads” thing. He sort of hopes he hadn’t, because he knew how mean kids could be. Instead, he just glances down at him with a smile. “Yeah?”

Jaiden nods, then gestures vaguely to Amelia. “Mia said something stupid for hers.”

Amelia pouts at this. “Did not!” She argues.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did-“

“That’s enough,” Dan says over them, leading them into the elevator and holding Amelia back so Jaiden could press the button this time. “What did you share, Mia?”

“I told them I wanted to be a mermaid princess when I grow up,” She announces proudly, sticking her tongue out at Jaiden when he rolls his eyes at her.

“Well that’s not stupid!” Dan tries to say encouragingly. “Mermaids are pretty cool, and princesses are just like queens!”

Amelia looks up at him with a pitying smile on her face. “No, they aren’t, Dan. Queens have to do all this work, but princesses just get to have fun and be rich.”

Dan can’t help the snort that falls from his nose at this information, although he does try to cover it up with a cough. They’re at the door to the flat now, so Dan releases her hand to unlock the door. “Oh, sorry. I don’t know a lot about princesses I guess.”

The six-year-old only pats his hand sweetly. “It’s okay, you’re only a boy, you don’t get to know everything.” She gives him a charming smile as she dances past him and into the flat, kicking her shoes off and dumping her backpack by the shoe rack.

Dan stares at her for a moment before his gaze darts to Jaiden. Jaiden doesn’t even look surprised, and he only shrugs at him before following his sister. “It’s okay, Dan. Even grown-ups don’t know all the stuff,” he says reassuringly, leaving Dan alone to just stare in shock at the both of them.

He doesn’t even have a comeback, following them in and locking the door behind himself. He shakes his head incredulously, laughing softly to himself as he shoves his trainers off, straightening them up on the shoe rack neatly. “Do you guys have homework?” He calls to where they’ve disappeared into their room.

“No,” they call back in almost unison.

Dan rolls his eyes as he picks their backpacks up off the floor, hanging them on their little hooks neatly. He’d lecture them about that another day. He grabs their lunchboxes and takes them into the kitchen with his own, dropping them onto the counter to sort through the things they hadn’t eaten. Both lunchboxes are nearly empty, although Amelia still had a pack of fruit gummies and a pack of crackers, while Jaiden only left the crackers. That had been a shot in the dark, honestly, but Dan smiles to himself when he realizes that neither of them must like that kind.

After emptying them of any wrappers and the crackers, Dan sets them back on the counter where he’d left them last night to be repacked in the morning. “Do you guys want any snacks?” He calls, moving to the cupboard to grab a glass for some water. After filling it up, he realizes he hasn’t heard a response. “Guys?” He asks. Again, no response.

He sets the glass down before moving down the hall to where their room is, slowing his steps when he hears what sounds like a quiet argument. He doesn’t intend to eavesdrop, really, he doesn’t, but when he hears the name Levi pop up once again, he can’t help but stop to listen.

“Of course, he wasn’t at our school, idiot! He’s in secondary school,” Dan hears Amelia hiss. He frowns, trying to figure out who this Levi person is to them.

“Then maybe he’s at the other school!” Jaiden argues back.

“Who cares?” Amelia responds, and Dan hears the sound of the mattress squeaking as she climbs onto her bed. “We won’t see him anymore, Jai.”

Jaiden makes a huffing noise, and Dan hears what sounds like something hitting the wall. Mia responds with an indignant yelp, and Dan hopes he hadn’t just thrown something at his sister. “It’s not his fault, you know,” Jaiden’s voice is quieter this time, and Dan finds himself inching closer to catch his words.

“I don’t care,” Amelia snaps. “If he hadn’t called those people, we’d still be with mummy and daddy!”

Dan’s heart begins beating rapidly then, and he suddenly has a feeling that this Levi person must be close to them, if he’s apparently the reason they were separated from their family. Dan swallows hard at the memory of Hazel giving him what little information she could about why they were taken away. Drugs and an unstable financial situation: that was basically all that Dan had been privy to. Hazel herself hadn’t been very educated on the case, considering it had been transferred to her from a separate fostering organization.

“They don’t care about us!” Jaiden yells back at his sister.

She shushes him loudly at his words, and then denies it. “That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is, Amelia. Levi was trying to help! Mummy and Daddy were mean to him!”

Dan doesn’t have to see her face to tell that Amelia is in tears when she responds. “No. No, no. They- Mummy was sick!”

Jaiden huffs again. “No. Levi told us she wasn’t really sick.”

“He left us!” Amelia raises her voice. “He left us, and then those people took us away.”

Whatever Jaiden’s response was going to be, Dan doesn’t figure out, because then his phone is ringing in his pocket, and the kids go silent. Dan startles at the noise himself before moving back down the hall a little and acting like he was walking out of his bedroom as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Do you guys still want to go to the park?” He calls, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

The twins respond with an affirmative, and he silences his phone when he sees that it’s his mum. He could call her back later, when he had more time and wasn’t on parenting duty. It had been awkward talking to her since he started fostering the twins, but when he’d asked Phil if he was experiencing the same with his mum, he’d denied it. Apparently since Kath was under the impression that they were actually together, she was a lot less bothered by the idea that they were basically raising a family together.

Dan tries not to feel queasy at the implications that has.

Just as they walk out the door, Dan’s phone buzzes with a new message. He wrestles the phone out of his skintight jeans, smiling down at it when he sees the message there.

Phil: I saw a video of a baby bear eating trash today.

Dan: okay?

Phil: It reminded me of you :) <3

Dan: I hate you

Phil: Rude!

Dan: you know im kidding

Phil: I know <3

Dan: quit being gross

Phil: :( Fine I’ll take my affection to my other fake fiancé.

Dan: ouch

Dan: also more on the levi thing

Phil: oh shit was I right?? It’s a ghost isn’t it?

Dan: no you spoon

Phil: then??

Dan: I’ll tell you tonight. It’s important.

Phil: K. see you later

~~~

“I’m home!” Phil calls from downstairs about half an hour after they’ve come home from the park. The twins perk up, and Dan glances at them before grinning, shrugging when they look at him questioningly. That’s apparently all the permission they need to run downstairs to greet Phil. Dan stays on the sofa, listening with a smile as they greet him.

“Phil!” Amelia screeches. She especially got on well with him and was always excited to see him when he got home. Dan wondered if maybe he reminded her of her own dad. The thought makes his stomach churn nervously, but he brushes it away.

“Hi, guys! Oh!” Dan doesn’t have to be watching to know that they likely just jumped on him, and he smirks. “Hello, Mia. You shouldn’t jump off the stairs like that, it’s dangerous,” he chastises gently. She mumbles something Dan can’t hear, and then he hears him speaking to Jaiden. “Hey, little man,” he says affectionately, and Dan can picture him ruffling his hair. “How was school?” Phil asks, and Dan can hear him walking up the stairs now.

The children begin chattering excitedly, and Dan can’t really decipher what they’re telling him between both of them speaking so quickly. He puts his laptop on the coffee table, tossing his arm over the back of the sofa and leaning back as he watches Phil come up the stairs carrying Amelia, Jaiden right behind them. Phil’s eyes dart around the room, a smile stretching his lips when his gaze meets Dan’s.

“Hey,” Phil greets him softly, shifting Amelia in his arms a little.

“Hi,” Dan grins up at him. He nods to Amelia with a knowing smile. “That one might have missed you,” he teases, relishing in the way Phil’s cheeks turn a little pink. He still wasn’t completely convinced that he was good with the kids, although Dan had tried more than once to convince him that he was doing just fine.

“I guess she was the only one,” Phil teases back easily, pouting when Dan rolls his eyes at his childish behavior.

“Oh, I missed you alright,” Dan says, hiding his smirk when Phil sets Amelia down before sitting on the sofa beside Dan. Subtly, he grabs one of the pillows that had been tucked under his left arm. “But I’m sure I won’t at this distance.”

He barely has a moment to take in Phil’s confused expression before he’s swinging the pillow, smacking Phil in the face with a thump.

“Dan!” Phil yells through his poorly concealed laughter.

“What?” Dan asks sweetly, tugging the pillow out of his reach and tucking it under his arm before Phil has the chance to retaliate. Phil notices this, and with narrowed eyes he lunges forward, grabbing for the pillow while grabbing one of Dan’s wrists in the other hand, pinning his hand to the sofa. “No!” Dan screams, rolling over onto his side to try and cover up the pillow. He vaguely hears the kids giggling somewhere behind them, but he’s not even paying attention to that when Phil gets a mischievous look on his face. He doesn’t even have to say it before Dan realizes what he’s going to do. “No, Phil, please don’t- Oh my god!”

Phil snickers as he begins tickling Dan’s side, his laughter bouncing around the room over Dan’s screeches. “You deserve this!” He yells gleefully, dropping Dan’s wrist to attack his other side.

Dan thrashes beneath him, struggling to catch his breath over all his screaming. “No, no, please! Stop! I’ll- I’ll- I’ll behave!” Dan shrieks, feebly trying to shove Phil’s hands away.

“You promise you’ll be nice?” Phil asks teasingly. Something in his voice has Dan blushing, and he draws his legs up, effectively pushing Phil away a little.

“Promise!” He says loudly, breathing heavily when Phil finally stops his attacking. His breathing is labored, and his sides hurt from laughing so much. “Bloody hell, mate,” he wheezes. “I’m too old for this shit,” he mutters under his breath, hoping the kids didn’t hear him.

Phil quirks an eyebrow at him but smiles anyway. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. Are you okay?” He asks sweetly, dropping a hand to Dan’s back and stroking gently.

Dan nods, smiling up at him. “I’m fine, yeah.” His heart is suddenly bursting with something warm as he looks up at his best friend, and he barely realizes it when he reaches up and tucks a piece of hair back into Phil’s quiff, flattening it back gently. Phil’s gaze darts up to Dan’s hand, but they settle back on Dan’s face as his lips fall into a softer smile.

Before Dan has a chance to get too caught up in the moment, whatever it was, he hears a giggle from above him. He glances up to find Amelia and Jaiden hovering over the arm of the sofa where his head is resting. “Can I help you?” He teases.

“Were you two about to kiss?” Amelia asks, smirking at him.

He can feel the blush on his cheeks from the question, and he tries to stutter out an explanation. Luckily, Phil beats him to it.

“Nosy Nancy, why don’t you come over here? I have a surprise for you,” Phil grins, lifting the hand that isn’t on Dan’s back and wiggling his fingers at her.

She squeals before darting behind the couch, Jaiden following close behind.

“Hide and seek, guys, so try not to run everywhere!” Phil calls to them before he glances down at Dan with an apologetic look, but Dan only rolls his eyes before shoving him away.

“Go, go chase them, it’s your turn to play Fun Dad.”

Phil grins before ruffling Dan’s hair and standing from the couch to go play with the twins. “Dinner?” Phil asks inquisitively, pausing before commencing the chase.

Dan rolls to his feet, shoving Phil’s shoulder as he passes him. “I’ll start dinner, go. They want to play, and I wouldn’t put it past them to attack you if they don’t get what they want.”

Rolling his eyes, Phil moves to the stairs to find the kids, who Dan can hear giggling downstairs somewhere. “Right, because they’re so vicious.” The sarcasm is palpable. “Still need to talk later?” he asks softly as they walk downstairs.

“Yeah,” Dan nods. “We can talk when we go to bed?”

Phil nods at this. “Okay.” Then, louder so the kids can hear him, “Ready or not, here I come!”

~~~

After eating dinner and sending the kids to bed, they finally find themselves in their bedroom getting ready for bed themselves. Dan has long since gotten over feeling awkward changing in front of Phil, and he carelessly tugs his jeans off and throws them into the laundry hamper before doing the same with his shirt, replacing it with a t-shirt. He isn’t entirely sure who the shirt belongs to at this point, but honestly most of the things they have are interchangeable, so it really doesn’t even matter. Phil does the annoying thing he always does and leaves his jeans and shirt in a heap on the floor, and Dan dutifully goes behind him and collects them to throw in the hamper.

“They already asleep?” Phil asks from the bathroom when he sees Dan moving around the bedroom.

“Yeah, they were pretty tired after the first day of school I reckon,” he replies, tugging the band off his left hand and setting it on the nightstand. He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the bathroom, cringing when he feels how greasy his hair is. He’d been running his hands through it a lot today, stress mostly, and it showed.

Phil, who’s brushing his teeth, squints at Dan’s reflection in the mirror. “Alright?” He asks around the foam in his mouth.

Dan nods but crinkles his nose at him, prompting Phil to spit before rinsing his toothbrush off. “Hand me the toothpaste,” he says as he grabs his own toothbrush from the cup. Phil hands the tube over and then studies Dan’s reflection as he begins brushing his teeth.

“Your hair’s getting long,” he comments, bringing a hand up to card through Dan’s curls. Dan unintentionally cringes away, not wanting Phil to mess with his already dirty hair. “Sorry,” he mumbles, dropping his hand.

“‘S fine, just need to wash it,” Dan responds. He finishes brushing his teeth in silence, splashing cold water on his face when he’s done. “Did you take your contacts out?” He asks Phil, turning around to face him.

Phil nods, quirking an eyebrow. “Done in here?” He asks, his hand hovering over the light switch. In response, Dan only nods as he heads back into their bedroom, going straight for the bed.

“I’m exhausted,” he mumbles into the pillow after he’s crawled under the duvet.

“Same,” Phil sighs, and Dan feels the shifting of the mattress as he settles under the covers on his side. There’s the sound of metal clinking against wood, and Dan assumes he’s taken his ring off. “Lights off?” He asks softly, his hand coming to rest on Dan’s shoulder.

“Mhm, please.”

There’s a click of the lamp being turned off, and Dan sighs into his pillow. “Levi?” Phil says softly, reminding Dan that they still needed to talk.

Dan sighs but rolls over onto his back. “They talked about him again today. They didn’t know I could hear them I guess.”

“Yeah?” Phil prompts when he falls silent. Dan watches out of the corner of his eye as Phil hesitates a little before reaching his hand out and gently pushing Dan’s curls off his forehead. Dan quirks an eyebrow at him, but Phil only shrugs.

“I think he’s their brother,” Dan admits finally, staring up at the ceiling as Phil gently pets his hair. It’s soothing in all the right ways, and he knows he’ll likely fall asleep with him doing it if he doesn’t stop soon.

Phil’s hand pauses in its movement as he seems to process Dan’s words, but when Dan opens one eye to look at him, he quickly continues. “Oh. Are you sure?” He looks conflicted, as if he isn’t sure what his reaction needs to be.

Dan shrugs. “No, but it sounded like it could be.”

“What did they say?”

After recounting the conversation he’d overheard, Dan falls silent, closing his eyes as he allows Phil a few minutes to process the new information. It takes him a few moments, but eventually he speaks. “What do you think we should do? I mean, obviously Levi got taken away too, but where is he now?” He sounds confused, and also hurt. Dan can understand why; the whole situation was beyond fucked up, and his heart hurt to think about the fact that there was another kid involved in this situation, one who didn’t even have a sibling to keep him company like the twins did.

“I don’t know. I think we should call Hazel and ask about him, probably,” Dan whispers, silently hoping that Phil agrees.

Phil hums in consideration. “Do you think they’ll let us take him?” He asks, sounding hesitant.

Dan’s eyes snap open to gauge Phil’s reaction. Phil glances down at him, his lips pressed into a straight line. “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Dan says softly, reaching a hand up to stop the movement of Phil’s hand in his hair, intertwining their fingers instead. It wasn’t something he did often, especially with no audience, but he felt that they both needed the grounding contact right now.

“I don’t know, Dan…” Phil’s voice is full of concern, and he’s got a guarded look on his face.

“He’s their brother, Phil,” Dan insists quietly. “Sure, we’re doing our best to be their temporary family, but he might be the only family they’ve got left after all of it is said and done.”

Phil sighs, squeezing Dan’s hand before pulling his hand free and moving to lay down. Dan hates the way his hand feels empty without the contact, so he rolls over to face the opposite way and shoves his hands under his pillow. “We need to think about it some more, okay?”

“Whatever,” Dan mumbles, allowing his eyes to drift shut again.

There’s a moment of silence before Phil speaks again. “Are you upset with me?” He asks, his voice soft.

“No, I’m just thinking.”

“Daniel,” Phil reprimands his facetiousness.

Dan groans and rolls over to glare at him. “No, okay? I’m not mad. I just…” he trails off, squeezing his eyes shut and rolling back over. “I’m just tired, honestly. All of this is really overwhelming.”

Phil seems to consider this, and Dan can almost feel the hesitancy in the air before Phil reaches a hand out to rest on Dan’s side. “I know. But you can still talk to me, you know. I’m your best friend.”

“I know,” Dan chokes out.

There’s a moment where neither of them speak and Dan hears Phil sigh deeply before his hand falls away. Dan frowns, feeling the distance between them more tonight than he usually does.

Quietly, so that Phil doesn’t realize how truly affected he is by the conversation and the lack of conclusion, Dan speaks. “You can… I’m not mad. I’m really not.”

The room is quiet for a moment before Phil responds. “Do you want me to?” He doesn’t have to specify, because both of them know what they’re talking about at this point.

Softly, Dan says, “Yeah.”

The mattress shifts as Phil moves closer to Dan, throwing an arm around his waist and snuggling against his back. Dan relaxes into the touch, moving one of his hands down to grip Phil’s wrist to hold him in place. Phil squeezes him gently and Dan shivers as he feels his breath fan across his neck.

“Cold?” Phil whispers.

Dan shakes his head. “No.” He hesitates before speaking again. “Are you upset with me?”

“No,” Phil assures him. “I just don’t know what to do about this. I need more time to think about it, okay?”

“Okay. We’re okay?”

Phil laughs softly, and Dan knows he doesn’t imagine it when Phil presses his lips to the nape of his neck. “We’re okay.”

[cloudywithachanceofwatering]

Plance au where it hurt

I warned you . I really warned you .

Also , the ending is rushed . Sorry , my patience is low . I truly am a failure .

Edit : maybe it wont hurt so bad

Plaance god tier au where pidge and lance hooked up in the club and pidge got preggers . Unfortunately , the child died under mysterious circumstances during the third trimester . Lance had been with her the whole time , so he tried his best to comfort her even when she pushed him away .

The next year , lance left to pursue his career in the garrison in hopes to forget his pain . Pidge had left to recooperate , unsucessfully . She ended up avoiding meds and fell into anxiety and depression . They avoided each others interactions because they felt like they were the reason the child died .

The following year , lance and pidge had met in the same club again . This time , they were drunk enough to hook up again for real sad sex . A lot of tears and love , but in the end it was a one night stand . The next morning , lance left the motel without telling her . He didnt want to hurt her any more than he already did .

After realizing she was pregnant after a month , pidge hit the road with little to nothing . All she had was ten thousand dollars from stashing money for her baby , most of which her parents and brother had given. Pidge decided to get a cheap van from the scrapyard , got a liscence for the car , ditched everything she had inside and with her little driving skills , went off to somewhere she didnt know . All she really had was a driving liscence to prove her identity . She hid it away .

In the end , she only had a five thousand left . Yes , this was a time where everything wasnt real . This is a fic . Do not take things too seriously .

She literally disappeared overnight - nobody really knew where she went . All they had was a bought cheap van to go off on . How far couldve she went , people asked . Shes just a child , everyone said , unable to find her within a twenty mile radius the next day .

Pidge had driven for days , trying to get to the rural countryside as fast as possible . She found a little village after being lost for hours on end on a obscure forest path - and decided she was going to stay .

The villagers immediately noticed her van . Soon , a crowd formed and when she stepped out of the van , they crowded around her like scavengers looking for prey . They spoke in french , oddly enough - a mix of it . Italian , french , spanish was what she heard all at once .

A red hair girl put up her fist , silencing the villagers . " Hello , " she spoke in french . " Can i have a house ? " " No , " the red haired girl said . " The only house left are in the fields . It is dilapitated . " " Then can i have it ? " The villagers thought about it , buzzing even louder for a while . " Yes . We can help you fix it , " pidge heard from a few people at the front . It seemed to be agreed .

The villagers buzzed around for a bit , discussing their next move . Eventually , they asked a old lady to take her in while they went to look for items to fix up the house with . The red haired girl , with a thick french accent , told her in english : " We will help you . Come with her , she will feed you . "

And oddly enough , it felt like home . Their hospitality - it mustve come from a lack of visitors and her odd way of entering , their curiousity - but pidge was too tired and hungry to be cautious . It was the best human interaction she had for days . The red haired girl proceeded to bring out her items for two guys to take int othe home of the old woman .

The old woman , she was called " old rosa , " had no name . So she took in the name old rosa . She could speak english fluently , although she tripped over her words a bit . " My dear , come and eat , the villagers will help bring in your items . I suppose theyll make your van a bit more hospitable for you . " " Where are you from ? You speak english quite well , " pidge had asked . " Britain , my dear . Although i dont know where . But i do have a postcard with a picture - me and my parents . Everyone says it is a place in Britain , the english folks did . It was a baby me . But now , i cannot remember for the life of me where i am from , my name , my everything . The villagers , they took me in . Incredibly kind of them , " old rosa told pidge fondly .

" Why have you come ? " she had asked pidge . " Because i am pregnant , and to run away , because my relatives will speak to me unkindly if they knew , and i did not want to disappoint my parents and everyone around me again , " pidge sighed . She crossed her arms , unsure if she made a good decision or not telling her . Old rosa simply smiled , wrinkles becoming even more prominent . " I have a child myself - she has a baby boy . She can help you , if you want . The doctor is her husband . They can help you , but they might get a bit too excited about a new baby , " old rosa laughed . Pidge giggled , despairingly remembering what lance said about her giggles and laughs . How cute and bell-tinkly they were .

Oh , how she wished he was here to help her , but only the crevices of her mind said . She had long pushed him away , for the sake of her sanity . Her eyes welled up a bit nonetheless , and she gently thumbed over her stomach . That day , she had woke up alone and cold - perhaos it was for the best . At least you didnt pay for the motel room , a tiny thought sparked . It didnt help much , but a shimmer of hope tugged at her heart . Maybe she could pull through , with or without lance .

Old rosa present a bowl of rice and two poached eggs inside . " I really couldnt do much - i just wanted to make something quick for you my dear . Besides , the resources man hasnt arrived yet . On sunday he will , and on sunday we can go visit him for food . Yes , we are self-sufficient , but the doctor needs items . The resources man is very kind . He gives us what we need for free . I think the government set aside money for us - very kind of them . "

Pidge quickly came to realize her chatter as she ate . She smiled , breaking the poached egg and deciding to mix it with her rice . Old rosa just kept smiling , talking on and on about everything . It felt so nice - like her brother and mother fussing over every little thing that happened to pidge every day .

Another flicker of sadness - how lonely she was . If only she had her family , her lance - no , not her lance . He was just a little crush . That is all . But homesickness struck - how far away was she from her family ? It was selfish of her to leave .

The red haired girl came back in . She spoke in their mixed language - " The van , we tried to make it more homely , rearranged items but kept in sight . You do not have much , so we gave you some blankets and a mattress and pillows and clothes . "

Yes , this wasnt home , but pidge could deal with it .

As the year went by , pidge quickly upholstered her van-home into a much homier place . She made a few good friends . Connor , the fabrics person , he was incredibly kind and sweet , came over often to check on her and drown her in soft wools and cashmeres of all colours . He felt oddly motherlike , perhaps because of his feminine preferances . Old rosa became increasingly motherlike too , taking more and more care of her . The red haired girl , osara , she made sure pidge had priority to make sire the baby would be safe , along with her .

Old rosas daughter , maybellina [ yes , maybelline the makeup brand however you spelled it played a part in this ] , was very kind and loving , like her mother . Her husband , tom , made sure she had checkups every now and then , sometimes popping over randomly to check on her .

Sometimes she would visit connor - he had a huge old castle as a house , his family hadi t for generations . Although he was lonely as the only one , it was fine by him . They were walking up a whole lot of stairs to his sewing and looming room thing , when he had abruptly asked : " Pidge , i was wondering , do you know someone called katie holt ? You come from somewhere else , right ? I have told you before , i study at the garrison . Someone called katie holt , she had disappeared . I heard her parents , her brother and his boyfriend , they have been searching endlessly . They do not know where to find her anymore , " connor said . Oops , yikers ! Haha , no good . Thats all pidges mind provided before shutting off .

So she just stared at him blankly , before connor being the huge softie he is , started blushing and buried his face into her hair , murmuring something along the lines of " im too soft for this . "

And that , my friends , is how the start of something more than a friendship begin . Perhaps pidges mind shutting off helped .

_______________________________________

Lance had firstly , freaked out after pidge went missing and secondly , spent his weekends trying to find clues of her anywhere . So when connor , the nice guy [ actually nice ] asked him what he was doing in the middle of class , he decided to just spill the beans for the sake of his sanity and his already sad heart . " She used to go by the name of pidge . Pidge gunderson . Shes the fu-ing cutest girl youll ever see , " lance had ended . Yes , he self censored himself . Connor was still pure .

Oddly enough , connors eyes seem to be interest at the name of pidge . And even more weirder , he asked lance to be his teammate for this science project on fabric tendancies . The garrison is weird , dont question it . So connor invited him to his home , which worked out well cause all weekend lance just went pidge mode . And he decided to pry more cause he seemed to know a bit .

So that weekend , he saw a girl with long hair that vaguely looked like katie holt . " This is a pidge i know , " connor said . And oh fuck , it clicked in his head - connor's brain shut off after realizing what he did .

Pidge had changed - her hair became longer , more fluffy . Lighter coloured too , from spending time outside . And the most prominent change - she had a baby . With curly blonde hair . And blue eyes .

In lances mind , he couldnt fathom why he had ever decided to leave the motel room anymore . And neither did pidge .

_________________________________________

In the end , everything ended with a flurry of kisses and love , before night struck , and the next morning lance had left again . He had to go to school , which was logical of him . So she didnt put it against him , just helped him get ready and said bye at the door , albeit sadly .

_________________________________________

The years went by . Her little dilapitated house was finally put together . What little she had , pidge tried to make the best of it . She slept with her two children to keep them warm .

Yep , child uno numbero two . I dont know spanish , sorry . I am trying my best on duolingo , though .

Connor still checked up on her , lance still asked about her . He was like the middleman . Poor guy had a affinity for both of them .

One day , lance showed up randomly with a nice suit and a sexy , sleek black car . " Pidge , your parents . They are trying to pry anything about you from me and connors cold , dead hands . Just go back to them , please . Im sorry i didnt have the heart to come visit . "

For whatever reason , it sounded so halfhearted for both of them . Maybe because lance didnt want to make her leave her home and talk to her about it . And they both knew it .

Pidge , she felt hostile .

So she made sure her children never spoke to him if he came .

The next time , he tried to coax her to leave with him to go home . Not happening .

The third time , lance got hella pissed , and started packing up their things . " Lance , why are you doing this ? I dont want to go back . "

And lance softened . " Because i want to take care of you . I finally found you , finally get to see my children , and i finally have money to take care of my family . "

Pidge dragged him out . " Ill consider it . "

_______________________________________

The next time he visited , pidge was ready to leave . " Ive said my goodbyes , said ill come visit . Dont let me down . "

The first thing they did was pack up her items . Put it in her old refurbished van , and while pidge drove his car , and lance drove her old van .

They went to the village , said one last goodbye , and with heavy hearts left . But something inside of pidge lightened . She was finally going home .

__________________________________________

Osara , old rosa , maybellina , tom , connor , they all came to visit pidge and lance when they got married . Their children - samantha for the older curly blonde and girasol for the younger straight black haired - were the little bridesmaids . How cute .

When matt and shiro got married , everyone came back again to celebrate .

Years went by . The village finally got internet , so lance and pidge got the occasional call , and called here and there . Connor and pidge and lance were still as close and cutesy as ever . They visited the village , watched it grow and expand . Helped pidges old friends out . They dragged connor out of a abusive marriage that firstly , left him with seven children , and secondly , a lot of freedom .

And life was nice . Even though pidges family were heavy pissed , they got over it within minutes and only had love left . Even when times got rough with connor when his family was slowly falling apart because of his wife , he managed to kick her out . Very nice .

And a lot nice things happened that lead them to a nice little marriage again , with a epic threesome . Yay for me wanting fluff ! Yay for connor , poor guy !

Fin

__________________________________________

I warned you , the ending was rushed .

Heres the original draft [ read for loss of braincells ] :

DURING HIGH SCHOOL LANCE AND PIDGE DID THE DEED , PIDGE GOT PREGGERS , LANCE SAID BYE AND SO PIDGE ENDED UP MOVING TO A RURAL AREA CAUSE SHE WAS SCARED HER FAM WOULD FYCKING HATE HER DUMBASS SO SHE PACKS UP AND GETS MONEY FROM WHEREVER SHE KNOWS OF AND THEN SHE JUST TAKES A BUS RIDE FAR FAR AWAY SOMEWHERE SO SHE COULD SAVE MONRY AND BE SELF SUFFICIENT IN A RURAL SHITHOLE AND ALL SO SHE LIVES IN A SHITTY DILAPITATED COTTAGE WITH HER KID WITH VIRTUALLY NOTHING LILE LITERALLY NOTHING ALL THE CLOTHES SHE HAS ITS FROM DUMPSTERS IN THE CITY AND THERES ONE FUCKING MATTRESS IN THE ONE ROOM AND LIKE A TABLE WITH TWO CHAIRS THATS IT BUT PIDGE SOMEHOW MANAGES TO WEASEL MONEY INTO HER FAMILY AND ALL AND ONE DAY LANCEP ULLS UP YEARS AFTER IN A FANCY FUCKING CAR AND SAYS HEY SORRY SHES LIKE NO FUCK YOU BUT LANCE COMES BACK THE SECOND TIME AND PIDGES LIKE KID DONT COME OUT IF THUS CUNT COMES BUT EVENT7ALLY THE THIRD TIME HE WRANGLES HER INTO HIS CAR BY LITERALLY TAKING THEIR SHIT AND SAYING YOURE MOVING AND HE ASKS HER KID TO FOLLOW HIM AND THE DUMBASS KIDS LIKE UH MOM LOL OK SO THEN PIDGES LIEK WHAT THE FUCK AND HE FORCES THEM TO HIS HOUSE SO THEY CAN LIVE A BETTER LIFE AND HIS KID WONT BE FUCKING UNEDUCATED AND UNVAXXED AND EVERYTHING AND HE CAN ACTUALLY MAKE IT UP TO PIDGE AND THAT PIDGE CAN GO HOME TO HER FAMILY SO PIDGES LIKE WHY AND HOW THE FUCK DID YOU FIND ME AND LANCE JUST SAYS HE SPENT FUCKING YEARS GOING FULL ON SHERLOCK HOLMES TO FIND HER DEADASS SO BECAUSE HER KID LIKES LANCE SHES LIKE FUCK OK SO EVENTUALLY THEY KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE BAM END YAAAAS

HWEN I SAID GOD AU I MEANT IT THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR MO N T H A

ANYWAY ELABORATING ON KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE HE GETS THEM A EPIC NICE HOUSE AND NEW CLOTHES AND SHIT AND CHECKS ON PIDGE AND HER KID EVERY FIVE SECONDS TO MAKE SURE THEYRE OKAT AND HE PLAYS WITH PIDGES KID EVEN WHEN HE HAS LITERALLY NO TIME LIKE HES WEARING FANCY CLOTHES AND HAS A CONFERNECE AT 3PM BUT ITS 255 AND HES STILL PLAYING WITH HER KID NADP IDGE HAS TO FORCE HIS DUMBASD TO LEAVE AND DO THE MONRY MONEY SO PIDGES LIKE HEY KID DO YOU LIKE PLAYING WITH HIM HAHA HES YOUR FUCKING DAD AND SHES LIKE WOOOAAAHHHH CAUSE SHES A DUMBASS KID SO DUMB KID LOVES LANCE RVEN MORE AND PIDGES LIKE I TILD HER YOURE HER DAD OKAY ILL GO COOK POTATOES NOW AND LANCE IS HAPPY HAPPY SO AFTER THE HAPPY HAPPY LANCE GOES INTO THE GUEST ROOM TO TALK TO PISGE CAUSE THATS HER HOME NOW AND THEY JUST DECIDE TO PUT AWAY THEIR UNDERLYING ISSIES FOR THEIR KID AND BECAUSE SEX MAKES EVERYTHING BETTER THEY HAVE SEX AND WOW LOOK PIDGES PREGNANT AGAIN FOR FUCKS SAKE SO LANCE TAKES CARE OF PIDGE LEGIT NOW AND GETS PIDGE A FUTURE JOB AFTER SHES DONE WITH CHILD OUT AND ALL SO ITS ANOTHER DUMB KID WHOOPIE WOWOWOWOWWO WHO FUCKING KNEW SO NOW HER FIRST KIDS LIKE TWO YEARS OLD BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL KID THAT SHE AND LANCE FUCKED WAS DEAD YEAH IT DIED BUT SHE WENT TO A CLUB AND FUCKED DRUNK LANCE AGAIN AND LEFT OR SOMETHING GOD ONOWS WHAT HAPPENED CAUSE LANCE SURE AS HELL DOESNT SO NOW PIDGE IS LIKE OH MAYBE HE ISNT A SHITBAG AND LANCES LIKE HEY HOT MARRY ME AND SHES LIKE LOL OK SO THEY KISSED KISSED FALLED IN LOVED

[umikawa]

Parties- Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Just trashy writing again :)

A/n: Nothing really, im gonna start working on a series so maybe if you like these you'll stick around for that? Feedback helps.

(Gif is not mine)

Tony was throwing another one of his extravagant, and over the top extra, parties. Sure you enjoyed some parties, but Tony's? They were just too much. Strangers? A lot of people just crowded around make you dizzy. You didn't technically have social anxiety, you just didn't particularly like very big crowds, except concerts because concerts are the best. Whenever Tony had one of his Parties you would put on a comfortable dress, little make-up, and converse because heels are a pain. When you were finished you would head down to the party, get a drink from the bar, talk to people for a bit, then leave somewhere else.

Today was no different except Bucky would be there too, Bucky has been apart of the avengers for a while now but since he's never been to a party before, Tony made him. Bucky, of course, was not excited. Sure parties were alright but he just didn't like them as much anymore. So when Bucky finished getting ready, clad in a red henley shirt a leather jacket and some dark jeans, he walked out of his room to see you wearing a knee high maroon dress that had flowers at the bottom and your signature converse. You were an attractive woman, he knew that since the day he met you, he just would never admit it. So seeing you in a dress was a shock to say the least but you looked beautiful in it, maybe he'd get some courage to talk to you?

You walked towards the bar and grabbed a beer you talked to random people for a bit, said a few words to Bruce and Nat, then headed for the balcony like always. Everything was great, you had your beer, it was quiet besides the music playing from inside, you just weren't expecting someone to follow you.

You heard their footsteps from behind you until they stopped and they were right beside you.

'Hi'

Bucky Barnes, Steve's best friend, the kind and quiet guy. Why was he talking to you and not in the party?

You looked over at him and softly smiled, 'Hey'

'So what are you doing out here? Wouldn't you rather be inside?'

'Not a fan of big crowds, plus i get away from the drunkees. Besides it's nice out here'

'Yeah that's true, i agree with the last part except that it's snowing and you don't have a jacket'

'Snow's nice and I'm fine really'

'Nope i don't want you to catch a cold,' He removed his jacket and held it towards you. 'Here take it'

You looked at it questioningly and slowly reached for it, 'You Sure?'

He chuckled and said, 'Yes i don't want you to get sick!'

You chuckled too, 'Alright! I'll take it,' you took the jacket from his hands and swung it around you shoulders putting it fully on. You stood on your tip-toes and kissed his cheek, 'Thanks Bucky'

He scratched the back of his neck, 'Y-yeah you're welcome'

You giggled and set your gaze back to the sky. You could see the lights of New York from the distance, the blur of the city was always beautiful to you. Bucky looked in the same direction as you, he saw blurs of light and falling snow. He turned his head towards you, you were hugging the jacket close to you, clearly meaning you were still a bit cold. Mustering up some confidence Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him. You looked up at him and smiled wrapping an arm around him as well.

'Did you know you're really warm'

Bucky laughed, 'Yeah i can tell, you're clinging to me like a koala'

'Sorry'

'Don't apologize, it's cute'

This made your heart flutter, you've had a crush on Bucky since the first time you talked to him. You looked up at him to see him looking down at you with a smile on his face, he clearly knew what he said. An idea popped in your heard and you grinned at him,

'Dance with me'

'What?'

'Dance with me you goob!'

You pulled him to the middle of the balcony and wrapped your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist. You certainly did not know how to dance so you just swayed around.

'Doll, you do know we're just swaying around and not dancing right?'

'I am aware, yes'

'You don't know how to dance do you?'

'Is it obvious?'

'A little bit yeah. But it's alright, I'm fine with this'

You guys stayed like this for a while, just swaying around, but then you started to yawn.

'You tired doll? You've been yawning every ten seconds'

'Yeah just a little bit, but i want to stay with you'

Now it was his hearts turn to flutter, he never expected the night to turn out like this but he's happy it did. He would have never guessed that he would like you but his heart and mind said otherwise. He pulled you into a hug and kissed your head,

'I know, i want to stay with you too. But you need to get some sleep'

You held onto him tighter, not expecting to get so attached so soon, but of course you did.

'I'm sorry, i feel clingy right now'

'It's alright doll. If you want to spend some more time with me how about we have a little sleepover?' He suggested.

'A sleepover? Are you serious? If you are I'm all for it, but what if people get the wrong idea?'

'I'm pretty sure everyone will get the wrong idea but we'll just say we didn't do anything obviously. That is if anyone notices'

'Okay. Let's go'

With that being said they walked back inside and headed for their rooms, which were conveniently right next to each other. Bucky went into his room to change into something more comfortable and Y/n went into hers to do the same. A couple minutes later there was a knock on your door,

You pulled your shirt down and called out, 'It's open!'

In walked bucky still wearing the red Henley shirt but with black sweatpants. You were changed into a short sleeved grey shirt and black sweatpants, you jumped on your bed and patted the spot next to you. He shook his head at your playfulness and climbed into the bed next to you, you both got into the spooning position and lay there for a while whithout talking until Bucky broke the silence,

'Hey Y/n?'

'Yeah'

'Does this change anything between us?'

You turned around to face him and asked, 'what do you mean?'

He looked at you for a moment trying to decide what to say, until he finally said it.

'I really like you Y/n'

You stared into his eyes searching for any sign that he was just messing around, you must have been staring for a while because he said,

'I-It's fine if you don't feel the same it's just I-

You cut him off by placing your lips on his getting a response almost immediately. You reached up and put one hand on his cheek while he put a hand your waist. You two pulled apart after a few seconds and looked at each other.

'I really like you too'

'Well yeah i sort of figured that out' he laughed out.

'So what does this make us?'

'Do you want to be my girlfriend?'

'Hell yeah, Do you want to be my boyfriend?'

'Course i do. Now let's get some sleep

'Goodnight you goob'

'Goodnight  doll'

The next morning

You started to wake up at around ten am, the sun was blaring through the blinds but all you saw was red fabric. Remembering the events of last night you smiled to yourself.

Bucky had already been awake for a while now but he was waiting for you to wake up before getting up. When he saw your eyes open and you smiling to yourself, he smiled and started running his fingers through your hair. You buried your face into his chest as a response, you pressed a kiss to his chest and lifted your head up to look at him.

'You're really cute you know that?'

You giggled, 'Thanks, You're cute too you goob'

The moment was cut short by a knock on the door,

'Y/n! Have you seen Bucky? He's not in his room!'

Oh it was Steve.

'Yeah, come in!'

The door opened and Steve looked frantic until his eyes saw your bed and there laid Bucky. His face turned red and he began to stutter,

'D-Did you two uh Fondue?'

'Wha- No! We have been fully clothed since the party!'

'Oh Thank god! Okay then what's this'

'A sleepover duh'

He was hesitant, 'Right sure okay'

'Hey punk guess what'

'What?'

'I got a girlfriend'

'What since when'

You laughed quietly and Bucky answered, 'Since last night peas for brains'

'Okay yeah that makes sense to this' he said as he motioned towards you and Bucky.

'Yeah so did you need something or were you just checking if i knew where Bucky was?'

'Yeah, no i was just looking for Bucky yeah. Anyways you guys can stay up here i guess, just don't fondue or anything'

'Bye Stevie!'

'Bye Y/n/n!'

'How come you guys get cute nicknames'

'Hey, you get to call me something no else gets to'

'And what's that?'

'Your girlfriend'

Masterlist

[nocancer]

Tryna by Cancer moon

Before Young T went to bed he poured a glass of water and looked out the kitchen window to his backyard and noted how the snow made 3:00 A.M. look like 6:00 P.M.. Only difference being that if he stepped outside with his glass of water to the seeming twilight he wouldn’t be able to hear the rush-hour traffic like he usually could if it was Friday and 6:00 P.M.. Young T didn’t bother going outside because the snow was still falling a little and it’d be there when he woke up. And the neighborhood would still be silent, as it always was.

Young T woke up and his fan was still humming its white noise which he needed to sleep at night even though it was January and his dad was reluctant to leave the heat on over night. The small fan sat on his dresser and was pointed away from his bed towards his window which emitted a sharper and more blinding afternoon light than what he was used to. He checked his phone for the time, it was about noon - about the time where his parents bedroom door would open and their TV would blast the local news and his persian cat, Jo Jo, would meow at his door from which would force him out of bed to open the door so Jo Jo could jump up on his bed to sleep on his pillow from which he would either start his day or keep doing nothing. This time he laid back down, idly on his bed, with the covers pulled over his head to lessen the effects of his slight cat allergy. Jo Jo had a flat face and was grey and fat, and he occupied the entire pillow. Young T thought of how he wanted to trade lives with Jo Jo.

Young T couldn’t fall back to sleep, so he looked at his phone. He bireifly looked at worldstarhiphop, Twitter, then Instagram.

Then he went to bed with a head ache and woke up in college.

9/27/17 wednesday

Tycho: excuse me, hey, getting along just fine, I see? Yolandra: hey, and yeah, sort of, just studying, whats going on with you T: Nothing, the usual, i guess, being responsible, trying not to offend anyone. Y: Oh but you're so innocent. If anyone's offended its on them, not you. T: But my presence alone, I dont know, like I'm out of place or something. And I just want to tell people,  Yeah, so, I know how strange it is, me being here and all. Y: You're a free spirit amongst prisoners. That was my favorite part about getting to know you.

Tycho: After all these years, not for a second did i think you were right for me. And thats why i liked you. Cus I'm crazy. Yolandra: thats okay? what do you mean?, i want to get inside your head again. T: [pause] Most people wouldnt understand. Y: Don't be too cool for school. Im not most people. If I knew what was good for me, I'd have cut ties with you a long time ago. But im a crazy bitch too. Havent you realized? T: Yes. Youre highly psychic when it comes to "free spirits" like me - and you, though maybe, "lost soul" would be a better term for me. Though I dont mind being lost. It keeps things interesting.   Anyway, you should spend your energy on solving world hunger than worrying about me. Y: dont be so difficult. catching vibes isnt easy you know? coming for your type. Who knows, maybe youre worth it. Tycho: well, your the first to try me like this. im mysterious for a reason. Yolandra: And do you know why exactly? T: Thats for me to decide. Y: It's so damn frustrating. But I guess some things are better left unsaid. T: Most people wouldnt understand that, what youre saying. Indescribable feelings we know happened but fall short in explaining. That sort of thing. Y: I call those. "You had to be there" moments. Tycho: Honestly i never gave up on you, only myself, thinking you were different from my dream girl.   it took months for me to realize that but when i did the only thing i wanted to do was forget i ever met you. Yolandra: than what? T: the rest of these simple people that surround us, they see in a way thats opposite of what i am. Y: how convenient it must be. to blame your problems on people you dont even know. and just say "fuck it." I envy you. T: just my luck haha. of being born into myself, my personality forgive me, i dont mean to be such a downer. thats my ego talking Y: you had to be there T: where? Y: in my memories. T: it matters that much to you? Y: if I could find you in a crowd, just to say something, anything, even if i have to scream it in your ear,  then you'd know how much it means to me. Tycho: I'll be waiting for you to say hola.

9/30/17 saturday In the midst of an obnoxious trap beat I remember what my grandpa used to tell me. It's the harsh realities of life that stick with us the most. A dream is only a dream until you make it come true. Never hit a women no exceptions." He would say to a 7 year old me. Now I wish I had the balls back then to tell him that his strict army ass probably never had a dream that went beyond what he already knew. Like revisiting the same shitty cloud of meaningless thoughts every night till you reincarnate into someone who revisits a slightly less shitty cloud over and over until they become someone like me, who lives on the cloud everyone strives to be, forgetting those elvish looking folks of the below who never leave the house except to get groceries. There's comes a point in life where you just gotta be honest with yourself, and say hey, i just dont match the freqeuncy anymore. It's okay. I can still pretend like that one MGMT song, but im fading away. Fuck. I get naseous and imagine a cop coming around the corner which kills my vibe for a second so I take my headphones off, spit on my finger tip, ash the blunt, and walk to my dorm. I'm in water so muddy that the surface is all I have to cling onto. What lies beneath is my past, housing the memories like demons. Of course, her face, would be in the middle. Falling more faintly in detail as I wake up sober and go to sleep high and dream nonsense that somehow doesnt go away like the usual forgotten dream you usually wouldnt give a second thought to otherwise but this morning my head feels foggy and theres a vague recollection of a search going on but I dont know what it's for and my chances of knowing diminish as I go deeper into the day. A search, it's on repeat, like my brain is an actual TV. Thats probably a normal thought to have, though I've never heard it in real words. "Is my brain a TV." I say to myself.                                                                 if you can call it that. but those take the shape of monsters of which, as if I had no choice, I find myself preparing for so when the moment really matters, I can either go down in a blaze of glory or come out on top like the badass I imagine myself to be. All I know is that I was born and now I have to live.

Maybe because my past is so glaringly depicted onto a person I refuse to acknowledge. All that shit was a dream. The only thing that matters is the present, right? Bill Nye the Science Guy would agree with that. Back in elementary whenever we had a sub for the day, a cart would roll in and thats how you knew. I watched his show in elementary school, when we had a substitute teacher. Those were the best days. I had no worries then, able to speak freely with no inhibitions as if duality had nothing to latch its mechanical claws onto. Wait, I'm thinking about the past again. And thats going way back. Fuck! Okay.. On your feet soldier! That baby momma drama dont fly out here in the real world. out here  it's the winners and the losers, haves and the have-nots,  thats the way it is.

We're here to endure anxiety. I dont care about this slave shit. I think im gonna drop out. These fucking people bro, I shouldve known better than to come here. Deep down in the recesses of my highly realized capacity for recognizing everyday objects I'm  hearing the voice my computer makes. It just so happens that I'm a little different from everyone else. I see things. Feel them. Some are expressed. Others proccessed. Though most get put away for later. These things I speak of is all they'll ever be to Some bad. Some good. But in the end I understand the root cause  is nothing and thats where I pretty much exist anyway. In between any and all things, including people. At least that what it feels like. So although I may come off as shy and maybe a bit soft to the average layperson I aint no bitch and I wont hesitate to put my body on the line to make some headway when it comes to cementing my place as a savage demon in the halls of said layperson's memory bank. Someone who is wise would recognize the virtue of my conviction It is only because I must prepare for that singular moment, an unknown point in the fabric of time and space. To where if theyre not careful, a life's worth of energy should be pitted against me as if one were to stand a chance against the power housed within my vessle. Theres no such thing as a polite gesture. Nobody asks me how my day is "going" for no other reason than to relay to me how their own special day is "going". reckoning between a humble acknowledgement that I can never truly grasp the reason for existing and therefor should play my part in keeping the peace, versus pure badass in a world of sheep. And the more I get to know my surroundings, the more I reach erradically for the inherent bliss found within the path of satanism.

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Spmewhere off in the distance, Crermoth sits on a palm tree idly sculpting astral suspensions into a tattered fervor of mesh for working the keys of ineptitude. She is oblivious to her surroundings, not caring for chatty and gossip which she cant seperate between her reality and theirs because she is sensitive and when the the fully recognized sage, Esoh, confronts her about she says she much prefers it that way.

Their balance among them. With the wind at her side, Hojihka refuses the initial preference of her stillness and moves in a nameless precession by the whim of her ancestral birth right. "aaa may-ee soo shay-noo"

Her possession wakes up without a name. a new and more elaborate transposition of jubilee onto each successive indifference. The attention to one area renders the outer confines a vacuum enveloping the excess span unto both of their liable to taken over like a plain, sole, unconscious will. It certainly does its job Crermoth and has become something of a plan b pill thats taken during one of her many unpredictable episodes of self hate and general spiritual torment. One time she told J-Money she was a demon in a matter of factness that still haunts J-Money in moments when he pretends it doesnt bother him.. Reliant upon the interaction of her world and the next. Crermoth normally prefers being to herself on nights like these, that way she can answer any calls at a moments notice. A dimension close enough so that she may assist her friends in earthly manners of which, by the natural law of limitation, those lacking the incessant nobility of the Orisha cannot be bothered to see to themselves, less the tether between her world and theirs be rendered a useless tattered fervor of mesh that gives way to any varitable knock of an over arching brood of usurpment of the mundane frequency. “I need space. I only have but so much light of see to her calling as a being of light, assisting the pieces of herself that we’re lost during the falling. You remember that don’t you?” She says “Of course I remember. But only as a matter of fact. Upon closer reflection I fail to see the relevance of a subtle hunch with no bearings in the present.”

I must know that I’m allowed to be straight up with you, else I run the risk of straying from my calling. If there’s anything I hate more than being ignored its catching myself being lazy to the voices. “She musn’t veer to far.” Esoh said on a mountain.

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The woman wakes up to look around. Store-bought soil, empty bike-rack, office building. "Harder. Think harder. Come on girl." She stands for dignity's sake. A car traces a hilltop in the distance. She raises her cold arms to the sun in defiance of stillness. Nothing is in tune with the nature of her being besides the stale wind of a coming day. "Where are you?" The car freezes as it reaches the horizon, but the sound remains on loop. Whirrrrr A portal manifests abruptly and Elegua arrives on a chariot of skulls. "Erzulie, madame, how nice it is to see you this early in the morning." A whisp of fire cleans her face and the car continues over the horizon. "It really shouldnt be, not like this. Where Im at should tell a lot you know." Erzulie said. "Quite a dense reply to a longtime friend, dont you think" "Hmm, considering how I slept in a bush last night and dont remember a thing. I shouldnt need to explain myself." "No? is the friz on your hair not matching the blood on your knees? I can't tell which." Elegua said.     Or is the attitude possessing you as if theres no consequence for ill-manneredness? I cant tell which." So long as one's not so dense up his selfish ass that he aint notice." "Oh so now all a sudden you about the finer things in life? We can switch places less you miss me. Erzulie said. Im only pointing out the obvious." Elegua said. Erzulie replied with silence, forcing life to flash before his eyes. She learned this from her Mother, Darkness. "Attitude is possessing you. I cant tell why but its a poison I dont deserve. I was only trying to help" He continued. "I just dont fuck with being called too early. So long as youre not too dense up your ass to take notice, safe to say i'm in some shit right now." "Clearly. A product of consequence." Elegua said randomly. "Yeah, recognize. Please, for me, baby?" "No more testing your patience, Goddess immortal of justice. Save that for what I came to tell you about." "Take me to cleanliness, saintly promise of wisdom. For im not feeling myself." They left the scene to the past and pondered on the pyramid they had just made with each other. "It's nice to be home." Erzulie said. Flying over the palm trees brought Elegua back to his power. "On the basis of love." Elegua said. The salt-water washed away all glimpses of doubt Erzulie had of her beauty. And she harnessed the pastels of the ocean. Thus, all guilt was abolished and unconditional love was convinced to dance within them. Drying his body under the rays of Amen reminded Elegua of his first words. Long ago, before Time was born. "O Father, you are so brilliant." "Thank you, son. I am the Light" "Then tell me, Father, if you are the Light, and are so brilliant, then why is it you flee from Darkness?" "All I do is my purpose, which seeks to balance harmony with creation. Although it is much more complicated than that. Like always I suppose. I'm afraid you ask me a question that I cannot answer. Here, because you are so curious, I will show you." "I'm ready, Father." Light grew brighter causing Elegua to cry in his recollection of what it felt like to say words. The links in his mind straining to pull in the right words. Not too plain to where the moment would be lost in happen stance, and not too radical so that his manhood could stay irrefutable (to convey meaning.) Then Light disintegrated into everything and Elegua searched for Light ever since. So Elegua went to the crossroads, and prodded Darkness for Light's wherabouts, "I want to relive the the moments before he left for eternity. Where can I find him?" Without a hug or a kiss, she told him to let go of his experience in order to live in the now, "Take his place and move forward. Grow up, your Daddy's gone cus you never did." "How could you say that me? I love you, Mom. Yet all I get is hate. Why are you hiding the truth from me?" "If I don't hate you, then who will? You got so much to learn that my heart breaks into brass. You must leave, understand me? LEAVE, before I do what your Father did and them some. I'm this close. Believe me." With nowhere else to go, Elegua obeyed the commands of his Mother. Although lonely at first, the spirits of the dead related to his despair, and offered to guide him through all the known and unknown realms of Ether, so long as he guided the spirits of the living to his Mother. So that the dead could learn for themselves the origins of their being dead. And when Light came back, they could say "Father, we know of Hate, now teach us Love." Elegua tried telling them that it was hopeless, that his Father was there, just not in the way they imagined, that they we're actually his Father and they had to realize it through an altered perception. but that negativity only made them more adament to their cause which annoyed Elegua into a manic spell of existential irony which persisted during times of war with the Snakes on 5th density. One battle in particular Badly wounded, he pulled his chariot with his arms to the middle of a corn-field on a full-moon during the Solstice, it was there he made a pact with his self, to never be ignorant to the fact that fate was an inescapable constant within all contributors to existence. That the very fabric that distinguishes the dead from the living was comprised of scattered shards of an indestructable essence that attached itself to the spirit-body via fate which is the Father of destiny. That the collective conscious is woven by the thread of Fate, thus binding a common goal, or Destiny, inherent to all beings of both polarities, thus setting in motion the spiral of gnosis, which lends itself to the spreading of keys that open the doors to helping each other fulfill each others Purpose. "I will collect the pieces of my Father so that I may speak with him again as I did as a child. I will never forget you because I love you. You are everything to me, which is all I ever could be. Please, I want to know why you flee in the face of Darkness."

____10/9/17 monday

My pace quickens as I veer away from the crowd onto the handicap stairs. I silently count my steps to give off a pensive, non-assuming vibe. Over by the quad theres crows just walking on the grass. Yet I'm the only one who seems to notice, even from a distance. The busses haul ass down Memorial St. I've learned to always be on alert because I'll never know whats waiting for me when I turn my attention off the floor and become reminded of string theory. Artificial energy, cork boards with grime on the edges, tunnel of dull ends, spongy plywood cielings. as i step with my head down and in every so sudden a demarcation in the bricks, the reptiles answer emails. This is where I'm going. Because my soul chose to live here at some point in time not too long ago considering the relationship between all that the universe has to offer and my general apathy towards said all as in any and all one. Which has become quite of a bore ever since the first week ended I had to come to terms with the reality that friends won't simply fall into my lap like they would     if I wasnt such      a masochist for being lonely. The row of pillars turn to one and all I see is the contentment in the air of the lobby. In the hallway are casually turned faces which glide about in a linear fashion like the ghost of a lost bride.. I get a side-view of the people afraid to admit that this is far from the paradise we expected it to be. The brochure in our acceptance letters didn't include the drunken nights of another dimension. I'm inside the life of an architect. One who's dead by now, but lives on through his work. I'm not going anywhere, the building would say, if it could talk. And I suppose it can. Because I just had the thought, and nothing is ever truly wrong without another thought to compare it to. But then if buildings could speak existed first, and was allowed to grow and find its place in the universe, then it'd be established enough to not warrant an adversary. But the question remains where, if it existed, was its fate organized before coming into my mind, awaiting my final judgement. Substitute me for a unicellular collective conscious and it seems like we're all dealers of fate her on planet earth of the milky way of the universe of the whatever comes next (should we ever know for sure). he or she deserves all the credit for it manifesting onto the grid of my consciousness, which is a zig zag joint's worth of a high right now. The perfect amount for not giving a fuck while still staying slick enough for witty comebacks. Which wouldn't hurt right now. This building isn't going anywhere. Though I wish it would. Because I dread what I'm about to do How he must have pained to communicate something he could call his own while maintaining a dignified and safe, always safe, because god forgive, well, you know, , putting the pen to the pad, drawing  collumns in front of a Victorian fassad Succumbing to authority just to eat with a roof over your head and not freeze your ass off like a homeless freak. Profit margins in the final half of quarter one are lower than 1 standard deviation to what is considered by corporate to be optimal. As of now, the college has no incentive to ship in product from outside sources. All inventory must be stored in house to the buyer's demand. You better not be late.

___ On the parking deck

Tycho: “I had a dream I was on an internet forum. Someone posted the words: “life is an endless hell. With a blurry picture of a street at night-time. Not much different from what’s in front of us. I thought that made sense, until I scrolled down, to see a video looking out the windshield of a vintage rolls royce, coasting along a pacific highway. And the lines kept going. Next thing you know I’m falling down a pitch black waterslide, dreading my destination. If I never woke up I have a funny feeling i know where it was leading.

Preacher: In that instance did you feel the need to repent for your sins?

Tycho: No. that didn’t cross my mind. It was too late at that point.

Miranda: “I used to.

T: What made it stop?

Miranda: Seeing all the happy people around me. And knowing that they’ve been through the same shit. Break-ups, Death in the family, just generally feeling lost.

My heart was broken ”

T: Getting over the mind can be a dark place when it has nowhere else to rest. You can train it to think anything.”

Miranda: True

Tycho: Lately Ive been taking these long drives late at night into the boonies. Just to see where I up. I realized theres so many lives I’ll never know about.

If i wasnt born into money maybe I’d be humble enough to hate myself for even thinking such a thing.

How’d you get out of that?

Miranda:

These know it all professors are getting on my nerves. I fear Im crossing into an abyss I’ll never fully understand. Honestly I can’t fuckin stand these people. What name do I have to make for myself that i haven’t already experienced in the depths of my soul?

Tyco: You know how they try to act like they all official and shit, like I won’t see past it.

Miranda: [agreement] They do that.

Tyco: [stream of consciousness] So I just told her look I know its a rule, but I’m all about learning at my own pace and no disrespect i love her but Mrs. Soso can only go so far in telling me how to write. You can give tips and tricks but at the end of the day, I’ve been developed my writing style.. Like I thought we were done with all this high school shit. Well I didnt say that.

M: And what’d she say?

Tyco: She was like “As you get further into your major 90% of your assignments will be in essay format.. we require full participation “ At this im like she gonna hit me with the book like hell nah THEN outta nowhere She said “However, I also believe in 2nd chances.”. On the outside I was cool but inside I was like “*fist bump* yo i cannot fail outta college like someone watchin out for me idk who but-

Chad: fuck that shiiiiit *holds up white rum in front of street light”

Friend in background: 12! 12! 12!

Abrupt scene change. Camera shows Tyco zoned out. Then police car, as Tyco begins to hide behind the tree hes smoking on.

My black hoodie and phone-call to my dealer will still be with me tomorrow as I do the same thing.

(From a dream 10/23)

Tyco is driving around serving with Shantel when she lights her phone up from the passenger seat and puts the phone to her ear.

Shantel: You are not finna be talkin all that mess on my phone. Be honest with                  yourself. Don’t lie. You a hoe ass bitch.

?? Caller: Why are you even calling me? I dont give a fuck.

Shantel: Wait till I pull up then and slap the shit out you. Would that be better                     sweety?

?? Caller: I’m at Kawaii’s 30 deep. Bring your lil boyfriend and see what                          happens.

Shantel: Try me bitch.

[ The economy sedan turns right on red seemingly without breaking. ]

Tyco: 30 deep huh?

Shantel: With them ratchets.

Tyco: She sounds scared as hell aint nobody sticken up for her like that. You know they gonna talk shit right but soon as we throw them hands they gon be like, I dont know that bitch.

Shantel: nah but she stupid tho like not even worth all that extra

Tyco: We’re going. Wheres that nigga house i’ll waze that shit and we get there we just pop off. Aite?

[Not looking at the road, but to her, coasting down an average 2-lane with box neon trimmed tire shops and drive-thru windows governed stately as immovable beasts of mothership stores lurk behind low-sodium trenches of the new world order’s surveillence agenda for mass poplations en masse. ]

              Just follow me. I’m walkin in and gonna start a commotion just bussin                 and you just break this bottle on her mother fuckin head and we out.

Shantel: haaah what okay

Tyco: You’re gonna fuck her shit up som serious.

Shantel: She talk shit about you.

Tyco: It’s in the stars babe for real.

Shantel: You gonna help me find that bitch?

Tyco: You my fucken queen I love you and I got you.

Neighborhood entrance.

Cars parked for miles.

House identified first glance.

Park.

Car doors..

Hip-Hop

Grass.

Walkway.

Steps.

Porch.

Door opens and yellow tops within the frame.

!! WHERE YOU AT// YALL FAKE AND CANT FINESSEE !!

AAAAAH YOU UGLY DARK SKINNED NIGROS

The caller is sitting on a couch ass to ass with other dudes. Looking stupid.

She never saw Shantel. Who came upon her like The Ring.

She has become a party magnet. It is a Slayer concert now. Nobody knows who’s who. Though Tyco is surely getting his ass beat. He catches of glimpse of Shantel’s fat ass ducking through the doorway and he could die right now and it wouldnt matter.

*GUN SHOT*

FUCK GOIN ON HERE MANE

“This not the place for you bro. - White boy comin up here in my place of business - Tryna pop shit off like you really not a bitch”

Kawaii looks up with his glock-9 extendo at his GD party mostly all gone just like that. The poor girl is still leaking.

“She need to go to the hospital.” Her friend says.

He points the glock at his head. Despair.

“Look around before I kill you.” An invitation.

Tycho: “I sold a 4 oz today after my accounting exam. I could be GD, 74, rock                            purp. whatever it be its nothing but Respect yo. Got connects with chad and Becky nahmean dog. Could put you on to some numbers they white and they fiends. Please OG.

“How much for a zip.”

“80, gas.”

“Was that yo bitch?”

“yea”

Kawaii: You lyin to me?

“No.”

“She eat your ass?”

“Yeah and bounce on my BIG ASS DICK” Tyco says with autism.

K walks away.

T: they don't even sell Molly bruh

K is you fucken high you dummies. Beat this nigga ass. *Tyco imagines the why the fuck you lyyin vine and remembers the exact moment he realized that wasnt an original song but actually a spin off of a classic throwback jam by the 90s R&B group “Next” in their hit single “Too Close”.. He was driving home from the cafe he used to write high school essays in while smoking a menthol american spirit with the windows rolled down on a spring evening playing KISS 104.1 Atlantas classic jams. Then he realized there was a full 6 minute video of the vine on youtube. After watching it he felt gayer. Thats all it did for him.

Tycho wakes up on living room floor.Terry (random G, on couch): *Hands him note× Kawaii said he's sorry. No hard feelings ya heard dog?

Tyco: I guess thugs act on impulse. *looks at note* and don't count on a gahdamn thing you bitchass motherfuckers. Tyco walks into class with a black eye. The Professor talks about interest loans. Tyco meets Moe after class in parking lot.

*Moe: Waddup

Tyco: It's lemon og I just got in.

Moe: Bet. Those last cookies you got. Bomb dude. It had them frar mother fuckers leanin like they can't handle that purp like that nahmean.*laughs*

Tyco: I got some backwoods you wanna hotbox.

Moe: Yo I'm down.

10/24/17 thursday

____ Last night I decided not to hate myself. The look I get from them doesnt bother me. Really, its a simple sign from nature that I’m used to by now. A wrong impression can sustain the fog of memory, of which I will be seen from the lens of another dimension, with not a care in the world, an angel in disguise. Thats the crux of my life up to this point. To no longer hate myself. But appear as if I still do. The nameless place in our past with no address., one of which even a frat boy can relate to. This invisible standard that’s thrown us into the pits of despair must be addressed. To seperate the real from the fake. Like the others are sleep walking through class fronting like they dont see me. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my third eye, televising scenes of sleep walkers who stay fronting like they dont see me. Walking behind the parking deck where green dumpsters were with my phone to my ear is a feeling that remains within me until I do the same thing over again in a few days. Buying in bulk never appealed to me. And if a 20 a g was the price thered be nothing my lonely ass could do. Fuck this worthless paper, I tell myself.

I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days.

I’m signalling. Though I havent been approached yet.

Figuring that would resolve the look I give other people. I mean, christ, I turned 18 last March. And spent the Summer in a last ditch effort to secure an identity before I made my plays in college. For too long I’ve avoided the call of the light and in return have gotten blank stares.

(SOMEHOW gets wrapped up into a petty conversation with sorirty girl (on top of parking deck.)

Clarissa: I was the only one alone in the entire party.

Tycho: Why didnt you leave?

T: Dont worry I dont wanna know your major.

C; Good cus it keeps changing.

T: You think you know everything dont you? This world aint nothin babe.

C: Why do you say that?

T: What do you wanna know? That I get money? Thats nothin.

Clarissa drifts off.

Hannah: So Stacy’s telling me the banners weren’t in that right place and we’re like an hour away from starting and we still haven’t even got the chairs in order and barely anyone who was suppose to be here has shown up yet.

Tycho: Where were they?

“Well for one, Candace, I dont know whats her problem lately, but shes been gone because her best-friends now telling her she’s not rushing anymore but thats honestly a relief because that girl wheres winged eyeliner and thinks shes better than us.”

Tycho: Oh, I think I’ve seen that girl at the library or something.

     I intuit that in order to justify her reasoning for not liking the winged eyeliner girl, that she channeled my very own resonant storm cloud of which I emit silently in the face of vanity..  

H: Well you’ll probably see her there a lot more cus shes definitely not with us.

“Okay so thats one.” I say as if taking notes.

“Then Rachel’s out at some charity event that I never even heard of probably with a guy she’s not telling us about which is so frustrating that of all days you pick friday night at the peak of rush to go be a hoe behind our backs.”

“Did she ever show up to the party?”

“Yeah. And she was fucking drunk.” She said as if surprised but not really because this is Rachel we’re talking about, after all.

“Like wasted orrr “

“Damn I didnt know yall got down like that.”

“Umm when youre stumbling through the door and your first words to all the new girls is hallelujah bitches!

She wasn’t with a guy.

“So tell me more about the party. Like was there”

who nobody knows anyway

is that Cheyenne is just out of it because her friends now telling her she doesnt want to rush anymore and for one its like look,

Wait, who’s hannah?

Hannah’s the leader of her sorority.

Ooooh, Okay, I see why now

-Yeah, I mean if word got around that would literally mean she was going around their backs to cover up that she was lying.

> Right. Yeah I hear what you sayin. She’s trying to make it seem as if it never concerned yall in the first place but if thats the case then she dont need to be acting like she got the right to be trusted.

This goes beyond reputation. Manipulating emotions just cus she has none of her own. Conniving biitch.  just to get her way goes beyond reputation.

Aint nobody wanna be around that energy.

> So what you tell her?

I get schizophrenic when it comes accepting new ways of being. The person I made him out to be was the perfect cure for my suffering. All those forgetful nights of boredom I knew what I needed all along, but was to scared to do it myself.

------ Frat house halloween party kidnap scene ----

GD shaman prays to shango for power to go out by mantra. Squad in car repeats the same mantra. The power goes out at 1:00 (or peak of the party).

Tycho throws blue flare through the side of the window

at the Tycho must find Chad and lure him downstairs near the door so the squad can get the keys to the room full cocaine and adderal. After looking everwhere he’s no where to be found. He walks in on a couple having with the girl in missionary with devil ears. “Yo chad that you?” Its

(fuckem x3) Music stops from power so he sneaks in wireless speaker in his robot costume  and puts it at one end of the room. Squad member 1 will carry bigger wireless speaker and set it down when he storms in. Tycho also brings a timed strobe light to distract people and keep the illusion of the party still going.

Tycho runs down stairs and towards door with chad chasing him. Squad slaps tape and mask on him and carries like a battering ram although theyve already kicked the door.

*Power turns back on*

“Fuck em, fuck em, nigga get out my section

Don’t want to see him, I don’t want to touch him

*waves zippo lighter in front of face so chad can see him through mask*

“Ima count 3 seconds and your dead on 5 if i dont get this combination” says calmly. thus saiyth the lord thy god”

“Three... No mercy”

“Two.. Shall be given unto those”

*gives code*

          “One.”

Love takes many shapes and forms.Tycho never opened up to people, hating himself for being incapable of feeling what others felt. He wanted more so he went spiritual. Which his close friends perceived as going off the deep end."Ayy whatsup bro you tryna smoke?""I have a calc exam tomorrow but I'm down after."Aight good luck on your studying tonight and then kill it tomorrow I know you got this calc is your specialty can't say the same for me but that's why you always tutored me haha."Let me know if you need more help. Figuring their was no bounds and he could be whatever, even silent, and experience irony rather than fate. How bland, he thought, to have a life plan and nothing to look forward to. Running drugs would be a necessary chain reaction. The highest elixer exceeding the bliss provided by the very weight he'd be pushing, itd be getting off on defying his own life, leaving spirit his only option. And so like a blackbird his soul seeks experience only in the clearest degree of visibility. Swerving transgressions of lonliness to levy the burdens of contrived responsibilities at societies every turn until his flight patterns veer from the trodden path to and fro the calling of reality in which he desires to preside over as a God of many statures. Untainted by works, head first into the entity of the adversary, of which he is able to predict the situational consequence in only a glimpsing moment before havoc ensues and the final hour is upon him, his loose wings coated with astral charcoal of depravity. Be caught slipping once and he loses the jump until the enevitable program takes its course - an unstoppable relationship between fate and reckoning that must be fulfilled as day turns to night. Once that happens he reverts back to being like the rest of them. Yet to the world, now desolated beyond repair, hed still be alive, exuding a calm presence that something is not quite right with him existing without remorse. The truth is simple enough, a hint just ever so slight as to never be able to cross the threshold of utterance, thus becoming rendered a convinction of self delusion on the part of the unknowing accuser, who by this time hates himself for even thinking badly of such a good guy to make peace with.  The collage curtails past the illusion of what is already known and at last the watchers take notice and thus regeneration is able to take place along all the land, allowing for new energy to take the throne of anticipation. One that has harnessed the potential to become anything the wonder puts his mind too. So what if I'm imaginative? Yolandra: I mean everyone's different in their own way. Like yeah the soroitys have a dress code and all that Starbucks and capris. But I don't know. You just have to get know a person for who they are and not how the outside world perceives them to be. T: So what'd you first think of me? Yolandra: Honestly not much anything. You were one of those people who could be anything. But then I overheard you say taurus's are gold diggers and I hated you cus I'm a taurus. T: Oh sorry I really didn't mean it like that but c'mon now I can tell you have a taste for finer things you bougie little.. Boob. *laugh\ haha "you know what I mean" It doesn't bother you? What? That so much could go wrong so quickly? Look, deep down he's telling you his heart lies with getting over and you let him because that's /just what you like about him, how deep he gets. cus he's a sad and selfish individual who was never about loving anything other than vanity. The best thing to do would be to trust his actions, intentions aren't what's important right now. Really, forget about the soul connection. Loves comes through all types of people as long as you're open to receiving them. Those energies. Don't lose yourself in the illusion. Without ever taking credit for what truly matters which should be you. Then your fashion made sense to me. T:  I'm so caught up in myself. I mean, it's impossible to know anything else. I'll never get to stand in your shoes. Its just truth. Yet I'm the bad guy. You're not like the other people I've met. T: Yeah I'm kind of loner if you couldn't tell already. I guess that's a good thing.T: Hey it's okay. I get that a lot... Wait what do you mean you guess? Ive found that who evers saying does a 180 in their normalcy.  Knowing your even here right now is a good thing. Knowing that you're with me even when im not. Don't you think? Starting out with confidence and ending strong to be lucky if I'm not hurt. Tell me what you want out of this. Sometimes I feel so lame, then I realize how fun itd be to not care. Through the window screen i see parchments and grass blades, this is an image I've sought to ignore for its blandness thinking I was over recognizing such mundane structures. The sunlight made me drunk with non verbal contemplation. I crave this heat when I'm in low spirits. And a breeze when I'm high. My thoughts are channeled from a lonely place (My thoughts come from a lonely place)  I've had no choice but to become accustomed to for my own sanity. To work faster and breach that veil of reckonning. So unreachable and enticing at the same time.T When I'm alone, welcome something more than the past if you ever cared to help me. This isn't the only world out there. And even if it was the material would eventually reach infinity. Then a black hole would open or something. Don't quote me on that, science is the hottest thing going right now. It cant hurt to butt in unofficially. As long as no one calls you on it. The universe molds to your confidence. That's another story. At the end of the day, I have too much pride to be a scientist.  The God they're serving calls for a lot of self sacrifice. A self that ignores emergency when called to speak. A self i'm not prepared to lose. "Why are you here again, nothing will change, you're gonna be quiet like last time" any handle on reality I had during the sun rise flees like an ex girlfriend into the night. I'm not prepared to lose. Anxiety is that humid feeling you get when roughnecking the time away. Jaded peripherals, internet browsing, and fading friends initiate a color spectrum so cruelly vivid in its inability to be shared with the CVS cashier who looked at you wrong because you bought 3 4oz bottles of robitussin. A man who couldnt care to see the streets, stop signs, and traffic lights. Man is a slang term we use when caught in the moment. Of which matrix programming loves to grasp onto. --- 10/25/17 wednesday So here I am enjoying a piece of lackluster nothing for the sake of something I've agreed to experience in a past life I can't even remember but somehow must make amends to as if its an actual concrete thing I can touch and make sense out of without caring to ponder how life puts us in these type situations like getting your hair done a new way and meeting a friend of a friend superficially without ever following up like aight word up bro I feel you by the way hows life and what's the special fact I should become one with in this moment while not thinking too much in to things or else id be alone as if we're not alive under the stars for any other reason than to be happy but still to me that becomes too much like a flash in time rather than something meaningful because then sex would have to be our purpose for being here but you and I both know it's more complicated than that so we look into it via memories and realize the journey was brighter than the reward as in I don't remember the actual sex part but rather the day as a whole with stained glass sprinkled in on a film reel to push the past into something real and unexplainably alluring to the self of which we projected this light onto in order to perhaps know in advance maybe how to repeat this metaphysical phenomenon for a second time because we're not quite there yet although at this rate if seems that to finally reach a state of thereness would mean we wouldn't be able to be here right now having this conversation like a building block struck from below or a house of cards we have to keep faith that every moment plays its part because we had an emotion for it and therefore couldn't be rendered to nothing in a wreckless attempt force it all together rather let each tile compliment it's neighbor and bypass the need for destruction by allowing enough caring energy to flow through that filter mechanism within you that deems lifes moments as worth remembering or forgetting and pretend you never heard about forgetting and avoid it like the plague because everything that ever was is depending on you to go forth into righteous so that gods original intention for letting go of unwanted baggage be synthesized within your vessel of upgrades intelligence so that the journey can still be appreciated only this time without th deceptive veil of the end. to question the little things that somehow don't mean much but at the same time appear to us daily as conduits for good fortune and thats what we must uphold ___ 11/2/17 thursday

I you and me playcated on a surface of stones that match our longing to search in the wrong places. Convenient are we done such a conceivable time that is time which is also time because what more can be said other than us winding down a fire escape to an inexplicable hatch sitting like paper mache on our transformative spiritual natures. Gone already but not forgotten just make sure to take the negative side of every situation involving 1 or more parties so as to make sure the rythym is in order because you can't go wrong with challenging the status quo of an area you're not suppose to be in even if that seems too easy and superficial it's the right choice because even the idea of rebellion as a bad thing must be able to project into a physical thing prompt for examination so secrets may be revealed. Wouldn't you know i stopped believing in faith due to its redundancy of chasing metaphysical strings too far out for us to put into words and isn't that the source of all our angst. Depraved of propositional phrases and elemental tables it's all so clear to me now. Casandra had a bag and Mikey had his sneakers in the forefront like a low hanging fruit but of course they had personalities that weren't so easy to see unless the hard work of interfacing came into the equation. Lets judge people based on judging for the sake of basing ourselves onto something not within our realm of reality. Perception is a hard question i think maybe inanimate objects could tell us a thing or two. Low pressure sodium lamps.Documentorial lecture hall amps failing to reach the end of the pyramid turned 90 degrees away from its focal point. May disease not reach our unexplainable selves if ever they may inhabit our temporary vessels like a friend who has no friends but you and wants desperately to get along with others but is attached to your ways. Are we in hell? What can our astral travels tell us about signaling locations with Etheric marks of time dialation. Things are what they are by defintion or they wouldn t be things however stepping the observer up a notch sets in motion cancer to grow from the singular notion that we ourselves separate on a cost of lightening our load. I am partly responsible for this mess we have made. Pulling my hair out in thin strands so as to not make a difference. Some people just don't understand what it means to be so far gone yet in a place of enchantment that lets us know we're not alone as Michael Jackson plays on the ham radio and Wikipedia says the song was written by r kelly. I'm a solitary young man, joined at the seams complacency and red-ridden vanishing points to a line of sight I'd rather not identify with if I had a choice. I'm seriously considering becoming rich and famous despite others already forcing me to. I guess eventually my spirit will give in as my soul looks from a distance and says what a fool I am then goes about his day. You can't be like the rest of them no matter how hard you try. Thinking on the sensualities you avoided after this rap shit led you no where. The palace at the height of creation where Jesus stopped and stared to collect his thoughts before he kept going when his alarm rang as his slave bending consistency tracked the new melinnia into a moldy piece of sandstone cheese the better of which tasted nutty with fruity notes and 80% abv shards of liquid glass on the throat thatd make even an immortal weep a shy tear or two. The pigs down in Mississippi feel things we can't understand in their slaughterhouse decrepit and forwarned in a musk ridden air flow that's non existent to hypocritical angels who were supposed to stop atrocity but opted to sit on their ads and play virtua tennis all day. Oink says the pig. Hee haw says the donkey. Give me life says the God and there on the 30th night fags came to tell the story on their faces. The bag lady told them to shut up and stop whining but they wouldn't listen though they lost their ability to speak. Goodness gracious me oh my great balls of fire. Great balls of ball you are the Lord of my lonely century in this dimension I took awareness to when I allowed you into my heart space.And then I left asking my self: Who is this I?

755559888a

Let’s stand for a while and think about the dastardly ways we have gone under the waters and flew away from temptation. Have us saying isnt it so pretty to be in something and have that to fall back on due to the struggles of forgetting the place we come from which didnt always have it out for us this bad in refusing us of inconjunctions we can at least point to and blame our problems on saying “See! There, I told you so. That’s why we cant find our beginning!” And we’ll keep toilling the fields as halflings saving up for a chance to leave the very universe we serve. “So thats more like it. Finally something I can get my flows on to” Shelly the alien said. “The Stars dont have to like you just because you see them. They have their place and so do we” Gerald said. “Oh but they do.” “How do you know?” “Well for one they always shine bright at the most oppurtune times, like when I’m feeling down about the part of myself that conveinently seems to escape me just when I need it most. If that be so then put me on to something else and that’ll do just fine.” “Perhaps you're not as big as you thought ”  Gerald held up his hand to salvage what was left of the dissolving psychic barrier between them. An invisible giant with an ocd issue. For now he could only listen. “No im not here to choose and thats exactly why Im not afraid to go where you can’t. Having the courage to admit your wrongs requires as much energy as universal rotation itself - a force which exists beyond our pleaidien awareness. ” “ But Shel- Okay whatever” Gerald paused and rolled the horizon through his scaly fingertips. “Keep calling on the unknown and you might get lost because it’s been there forever and sometimes Look, Shelly, no offense, you know I love you, but your awareness has no filter on what representation it can cling onto like danger isnt a reality to you. Me and Dazel always had to look out for you and thats just in this world what makes you think you can take on things you cant even see? “But do you believe in me? Anyone can say they love me. I’ve been hearing that my whole life. So much that it holds the same meaning as “um” does in conversation. Is that really the final conclusion we have at the end of the day? That you love me? Besides, I dont think you really meant that.”

“Here goes Miss Type-1 personality again. Always needing to label circles into squares, stars into gods, this as that, out of an inability to cope with insecurity. Leaving the rest of us as unwilling participants.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG IN NATURE?”  Shelly bawled.  

The beach of Temofose was out of walking distance from the orange cottage they grew up in with there Mom. When they were young it was somewhere theyd go when they had nothing else to do. Euweu Sister Beach was the brighter of the two, but now too populated for their liking. Temofose is less frequented by other families and polluted by cargo ships and a lack of open views but as they stood there a semblence of twilight through the holographic cages offered closure to the purpose of them arguing in the elements about a timeline Shelly was going to step into  And no matter what argument he could put forth, Gerald thought of it fruitless unless he spoke from his heart, a heart of which Shelly was currently taking the place of, so that he could not use it against her. “Shelly, I just hope you can understand how I dont want to let you go.” “I’m sorry you feel that way. But it’s my choice. Have a good njght Gerald. I love you” She said as she went into darkness.

Summer Break 2018

As a street light exploring strip malls, I am a linoleum tile on top of a trapezoid emitting frames of rave scenes. Heres where I find myself walking through last nights dream of the gang member selling duck pussy then getting assaulted by a pizza guy and a cop. Alone after those nights. Seems love was never meant to be expressed but felt. I look inside to see if I’m about to die, seeing diamonds mixed with sky. Materializing in the backdrop of my memories. Now I know why.

Now I know.

Then a wren on the fence manifests when it needs to. The perspective pyramid is that I pleaded for a higher calling. There’s nobody bohemian as me.  One day I’ll take this civic off the road and escape into my sacred grove. If only I wasnt such a bitch.

I carry my single briefcase through the airport parking lot. I’m hot and out of breath. Everyone watching me. I can read their thoughts but not my own. They say look at the guy who isnt me but is still conscious enough to move his vessel.

The a/c runs down to the end of the terminal, but my spirit is squared by the stores selling vain material. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my mind’s eye televises scenes too chaotic to put into words. Walking through customs is an event to be remembered, I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days. I board the flight to say finally I am my own religion. If I was flying over africa I’d see bon fires, but over Georgia I only see street lights. Thinking how absurd that they will speak of me as crazy. Others will listen. A vibration through these amber aisles to look no further than my destiny. Because everyone has their destination is the way it goes. I refuse. I’m tired of being a number. Atlanta had its place. Now I’m homeless in Tokyo. This is the not-so perfect end to the chapter planned out for me by the higher power. Not-so bad neither.

Save me. I’m on the other side now.

[moonie-here]

Shaken to the Core-Chapter 1

Fandom: Thomas Sanders/Sander Sides

Summery: Logan and Roman make a mistake with deadly consequences. Can Patton right their wrong before Virgil is gone forever?

Warnings: Angst. Crying. Non-descriptive body horror. General sad feeling. Slight physical fighting.

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874427

{°°°}

The cracks first appeared he was alone.

Virgil was sitting on his bed drawing and listening to My Chemical Romance when he felt it.

It was as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to his ribs and mercilessly beating him with it. A scream of pain wracked it’s way up his throat, but was muffled by the sleeve of his hoodie as he threw his hand over his mouth.

Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod.

He crawled off of his bed over to the mirror on his wall, small sobs coming from his lips  even with his hand over his mouth as he worked his way over slowly to the mirror.

He took a minute to gain focus and work past the pain before yanking his hoodie off and lifting up his shirt.

When he saw what was there a much louder sob pushed from between his lips.

Cracks.

Starting at his left hip slowly working their way up his abdomen and onto his chest. Something that looked like oil and blood dripped slowly from the newly formed crevices in his skin. Bruises were forming around the edges in shades of black, blue and yellow.

He let his shirt slip from his fingers and sat back on his knees. He finally caught his own reflections eye in the mirror. His makeup was smeared down his red puffy cheeks and exposed the heavy, purple bags under his eyes. His hair was messy from where he had grabbed his head in a state of panic. He looked like shit. He felt like it too.

“So this is how I go huh?” He whispered to the empty room.

...

“Not surprised.”

{°°°}

He figured out pretty quickly what was happening. Patton would avoid eye contact, Roman didn't talk to him and Logan would freeze every time he entered the room.

They didn't tell him. He didn't expect them to. It was supposed to be a secret between the three of them anyway. Why make it awkward?

Oh hey, by the way, I totally know you got Thomas is to take anxiety medication. Yeah, also it's totally gonna kill me. Anyway how's your day been?

Not happening.

Whenever he felt the cracks worsen he simply shut himself in his bathroom for as long as it took for it to stop and to clean himself up. The blood-oil stuff was a mess to clean up so he stopped trying to clean the bathroom after every “attack”. It was gross but at this point he didn't care. He was dying after all.

This happened consistently for a week before it really got worse. The cracks spread rapidly and Virgil spent most of his time in his bathroom, which was now covered in a layer of black sludge. He left only if he knew nothing was going to happen, which was almost never at this point. And despite the fact that Pat had tried to talk to him consistently over the last two weeks he felt...so alone.

{°°°}

Patton missed Virgil. Ever since Logan came to him and Roman with the idea of medication he felt...iky. Roman had been on board right away but Patton wanted to ask Virgil about it and the others wouldn't let him.

He felt wrong. Virgil was his best friend and he hated lying. He had rarely seen Virgil since this entire thing started and when he did Virgil looked on the brink of death. It had been two weeks since they had they had a proper conversation and oh, he just wanted to hug his son right now. He wanted to help Virge with whatever was going on and see if the pills had done anything bad.

Patton was curled up in his bed debating on going to tell Virgil what was going on. He’d tried to check on the other side before but Virge had always turned him away saying “I’m fine,” or “I’m just tired.”

In fact Patton was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he only snapped out when a violent, hysterical scream pierced through the tense air of the mind scape.

He shot straight up, throwing his quilt and several stuffed animals off of his bed. He swung his door open and rushed into the hall looking around widely until another scream pierced it's way into his brain.

His stomach sank.

The scream came from Virgil’s room.

{°°°}

Virgil felt it coming. After about two weeks he could feel it before it hit, like someone would just start slowly squeezing his kidney until pain took over his entire body. The cracks almost covered his body now. Up to his collarbone, forearms and ankles.

This one was different though. He could tell. His stomach twisted differently and his hands shook more than usual. The throbbing all over his body was more intense as well.

This was gonna be the last one.He felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes as he walked shakily from the bathroom to the desk in his room. He didn't want to sit down but his legs were giving out.

He slumped into the chair and pulled out a new sheet of lined paper and his favorite pen. He couldn't figure out what to write to the others. He wanted to say goodbye but he wasn't good at all this mushy stuff.

Fuck it.

He poured out everything he was thinking onto the paper until he had to flip it over for more room. Halfway down the second side the pain hit full force.

He tried to push up to make it to the bathroom but ended up falling onto the the floor, chair toppling right alongside him.

The pain was so much at once. It tore through him. Literally. He couldn't breath, he could barely think. He wanted it to end.

Make it stop oh god oh god please helpme helpme helpme i should have told them i dont wanna die please stop it it hurts

Tears ran down his face as he curled into a ball. He clenched his jacket’s sleeves looking for some release but all he felt was his fingers cracking and slipping on the weird sludge that was now soaking the fabric. He felt a scream claw its way up his throat.

…

Hands.

Hands were on him. Pulling his own fingers from where he clenched the hoodie till it tore. Someone was crying and holding him. Pushing his bangs from his forehead, as he felt tears land on his face. The person was singing to him with shuddering breaths. He wish he knew who it was. He couldn't sort out any real thought and his body was thrashing out of his control, jerking violently in every direction.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear how much i’ll love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.

Patton?

Virgil open his mouth to talk, only to start hacking up black sludge. The taste of mud and iron worked its way up his throat and passed his lips. I can't breathe!

The coughing, pain and cracking went on for what felt like hours. The presence of two others appeared by his side only to be pushed back by what he assumed was Patton. It took all of his strength but he managed to pull his eyelids apart. He locked eyes with Pat.

“V-virgil? Kiddo-o you with-th me?”

“Virgil, what caused this?” Virgil’s eyes flickered towards the voice even when his body jerked away, curling further into Patton’s arms.

“Not now Logan.” He looked back at Patton who was glaring at who he gathered was the logical side. Patton looked…. Scary. His eyes were red and watery but looked as if they were shooting daggers to kill someone. His entire face a bright pink in the non-blushy way. Sadness? Anger? This wasn't Pat.

He coughed again and all attention was back on him. He whimpered “P-patn?”

“Im here kiddo. Im right here…”

“Hurts...make it stop?”

He felt fingers run through his hair. “Yeah I know kiddo. I’m not sure I can make it stop, but i'm damn well gonna try.”

“I-I think ima die?”

The hand froze and three people sucked in at the same time.

“No. You're not gonna die Virgil. You're my best friend and im not letting you die.”

“I can feel it… I don't wanna die Pat.” His fists worked their way into his polo. “Don't let me die.”

Tears. Everything was blurry as tears ushered down his cheeks making tracks through the black goop that strained his face. He let loose a few strangled gasps as he felt himself crumble.

“NO! COME ON VIRGIL PLEASE! I-I cant l-loose you…”

“M’sorry Pat….”

{°°°}

Patton’s arms were empty now. They had been for an hour. At least what he thought was an hour. He didn't know anymore. He didn't care. His best friend died in his arms and he did nothing but cry.

When Virgil passed it was messy. A mix of dust and black sludge were pooled around him staining everything it touched. The only thing left was Virgil’s hoodie, which Patton had clutched in his closed fists. Logan and Roman were still standing in the doorway where Patton had kept them. He still didn't let them close. When Patton finally moved from his kneeling position, two hours and thirty-seven minutes later, he fell onto the edge of Virgil’s bed smearing black onto the mussed up sheets.

Logan spoke, breaking the silence. “Patton. We... we should clean this up.”

Pat looked up at him from the hoodie in his grip. Mouth opening and closing a few times before he found his voice. “No.”

“Pat this is hard for all if us but surely we cant-” Roman was cut of when a fist connected with the side of his face.

“Patton!” Logan yelled as Princey fell to the floor with a thud.

“NO LOGAN…” He yelled spinning to face the logical trait, and grabbing by his collar. “MY BEST FRIEND JUST DIED IN MY ARMS AND YOU BOTH ACT LIKE IT’S NOTHING!” He spat it out as if it was the most disgusting thing ever to touch his tongue.

Tears threatened to spill from Patton's eyes as he stared Logan down.

“He’s gone…

And it’s because of his own family….”

Pat let go of his shirt, arms swinging to his sides. A sob broke through his lips as he sank to the floor once more, curling up into a tight ball. His whole body shook as he cried loudly into Virgil’s hoodie.

Roman looked on in disbelief. Patton hadn't cried like this ever...not even when Thomas got dumped.

Bile rose in his own throat as he looked over the moral side. He threw his hand over his mouth in order to keep it down. Tears spilled down his own cheeks as he looked up at Logan.

His eyes widened when he saw red blotchy cheeks and shaking shoulders.

“What did we do?” He heard Logan whisper.

“Oh god what did we do…?”

@pattson @anxious-ball-of-sunshine @my-happy-little-bean @ironwoman359 @mirror2thespirit @shadow-walker-1201 @thecrimsoncodex (suffer with me)

[kirishwima]

“I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.” Lance to Keith maybe? B) but anything is fine

you know just what to send to break my heart now don’t you? B))

Hope you like it!

From these prompts

*****

There’s something about looking at old photographs.It’s not tangible, it’s not an emotion you can really describe.

Keith would call it nostalgia, but it’s not, not really.

There’s nothing nostalgic in the photos where he stands alone, a pouty child that doesn’t look to the lens, the person behind it not catching his interest, not meeting his gaze.

There’s nothing nostalgic in the photographs he sent to his brother Shiro in his high school years, sitting behind a desk with bloodshot eyes and cigarettes roughly hidden in the background, photographs captured and sent only to prove that he’s alive and as well as he could be when staying alone, when his apartment was always too dark, too quiet. Too lonesome.

He supposes, though, that the feeling changes as he scrolls through his phone, looking to his recent photographs.

It starts slow.

A photograph of him, Shiro, Matt and Pidge, all looking to the camera with tired smiles, after a day of packing and moving; it was the day he and Pidge moved in together to start university, anxiety in their stomachs and a rush on their cheeks.

There’s more, of Pidge trying to reach a cupboard and standing on a chair on her tiptoes. Matt, playing video games with Shiro, his mouth open as if yelling, Shiro smirking as he glares at the screen.

Then come more people.

There’s Allura, her elbow resting cheekily on Shiro’s shoulder, looking to the lens with an effortless beauty, a small smile and a wink. Keith is somewhere in the background, his lips turned into a frown, a pile of books to his side.

Here comes Hunk next, a shy smile and hands forming the victory sign, Keith standing next to him with a neutral expression, Pidge in-between them holding a teddybear that’s the same height as her, the blinking lights of an arcade behind them.

Then there’s Lance.

A blurry photo at first, one he took himself with a casual smile and half lidded eyes, which he then instructed Keith to set as his contact photo.

Another of Lance and Hunk, devilish smirks and a few more with expressions more ridiculous than the other, on a day Keith left them unsupervised with his phone.

There’s a photo of Lance and Keith that Hunk took last year on halloween, dressed as Scully and Mulder, Lance’s height simply unfair in the short black heels he was wearing, his wig falling slightly to the side. Pidge is there too in the back, dressed in a green morph suit with beady black eyes, holding a sign saying ‘I want to believe’.

Keith won’t admit to taking the next few photos.If anyone asks, he’ll insist it wasn’t him that took them, that he doesn’t even know how they ended up on his phone.

But there’s a photo of Lance, his eyes shut and lips parted, his cheek resting on his palm, glasses pushed up and expression serene, half-asleep over a pile of medical books.

Keith only took it to tease him for it after, for falling asleep in the middle of a study session.He never expected his stomach to twist and turn, for his heart to leap, hands shakily begging to go through Lance’s hair, to feel the urge to kiss the silly expression off the boys’ lips.

There came more candid photos after that.Of Lance having coffee, the froth of it sticking to his upper lip like a moustache, one eyebrow arching as he recognises what happened. There’s sunlight hitting his eyes, making them impossibly lighter, his skin molten and expression incredulously adorable.

Lance, with his fingers hidden in his sweater and covering half his face, nose red from the cold, looking to the camera, to Keith with a frown, eyebrows furrowing yet eyes full of emotion.

Lance with his damn grin, showing off white teeth and crinkles by his eyes, glasses resting on his head and pushing tuffs of hair back and away from his face, and then another immediately after, the softest of expressions on his face, his smile small and gentle, an emotion in them Keith can’t pinpoint.

This isn’t love.He can’t let it be love.

Lance is Keith’s friend, has been for years now, and Keith would be lying if he said he didn’t dream of the day he could stand across Lance and tell him what he feels, what the butterflies in his stomach do to him, how his heart threatens to burst each time Lance smiles his way.

But he also knows that whatever it is he has with Lance is fragile, not malleable in the least bit.

He knows Lance, knows how he flirts, how he leans close and winks towards people he finds attractive, with that sly smirk and raising eyebrows, body languid in what he’s conveying.

He knows Lance would never choose him.

With a sigh, he puts his phone down, exiting the photos app, looking to the door of the half-empty coffee shop as the bell chimes over it clink, three figures he’s come to recognise in a crowd slowly entering and coming his way.

Keith nods and smiles, digging his nails in his palms when Lance takes notice of him and his lips turn upwards, a laugh and hello already on his tongue.

Keith can’t lose this.He can’t lose Lance.

Even if the feelings eat him up on the inside.

*****It’s the middle of exam season, the library becoming Keith and Lance’s second home, Pidge and Hunk content to visit every so often and bring the two coffees and snacks, since their exam period is different from theirs; they’re in engineering and Lance and Keith are in medical sciences.

They’ve been at it since morning, gobbling up book after book, information entering and exiting their brains at impossible rates.

It’s around midnight when Lance groans across of him, stretching in his seat before slumping down, his chin hiding into the fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m tired” he exclaimed with a huff, slipping lower and lower into his seat.

“Drink some coffee?” Keith offered, nudging his still warm plastic cup to Lance who accepts is with a pout, bringing it to his lips before coughing and pushing it back to Keith in disgust.

“It’s sweet! It’s so sweet oh my god I feel my pancreas dying-“

Even through his antics Keith laughs, relishing in the way Lance exaggerates and frowns, going as far as to stick his tongue out, looking to the offending coffee with a menace.

“It’s not even that bad” Keith shrugged.“It is the living embodiment of bad” Lance retorted, “how do you even drink this?! It’s so sweet!”

Keith couldn’t prepare for what he’d say next.It was probably because of the fatigue, because of the blurriness in his vision, because of the stars he saw in Lance’s eyes when he turned to face him, big baby blues looking to him, hair tousled and lips pursed.

“You’re sweet.”

Neither of them spoke for a minute, simply looking to one another with wide eyes, Keith realising what he said a little too late.

Lance blinked once, twice, mouth flapping open and close before he looked away, his sleeve-covered knuckles reaching up to hide his face.

“Sweet-I’m-don’t tease me like that” he mumbled.

Keith was about to apologise, before Lance continued, catching him off guard.

“If anything, you’re sweet” he whispered, so quiet it’d be otherwise lost in sound if not for the quietness of the library.

Keith said nothing, choosing instead to gulp and look back to his books, photos of bone and muscle swirling and blending.   , unable to delete the image of Lance’s flustered mind from his memory.

He wished he could have snapped a photo of that expression.He just prayed his mind would never remove it from memory.

*****The instances where Keith’s tongue slipped increased, and so did the times Lance would stare and blush, hiding into the comfort of his sleeves and shaking his head as Keith pondered why he’d just said whatever it is he’d just said.

He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about the way Lance shied away that made his chest grow tight, heartbeat increasing.

Lance was never one to shy away from attention.He relished in the way people called him handsome or smooth, he’d smirk when girls giggled at his jokes, wink to boys who flirted back.

Why would he shy away from a mere comment of Keith’s?

The thoughts ate Keith up inside, to the point where he’d stay up at night, sitting on his windowsill with a dying cigarette, looking to the sky for answers, but to no avail.

He wouldn’t get his answer until a month later, on a lazy night at his apartment when Pidge was out with Matt and Allura.

He was content with staying in for the night, maybe get some work done and play some of the video games Shiro brought with him on his last visit.

It was nearing midnight when his phone buzzed, getting two messages at once.

(1) Pidgetron: “ay keef, im stayin @ alluras tonight. dont burn the house down k”

He sighed and replied a quick ‘OK’, heading to the text under hers.

(1)Lancey Lance: “hey can are u at home?”

That made him sit up from the couch he was laying on, looking intensely to his phone.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He replied hastily, holding his phone in his hand while he walked around the apartment, waiting for a reply.

His phone buzzed soon enough, a few consecutive messages in a row.

(4)Lancey Lance: “can i come over?”(3)Lancey Lance: “its late but i just..”(2)Lancey Lance: “no never mind, its fine”(1)Lancey Lance: “goodnight :)”

Keith clicked his tongue and wasted no time punching in Lance’s number and calling, waiting a few rings until Lance picked up.

“Hey, my favourite Mulletman-“ Lance started, and the hoarseness of his voice, strained with the faked high-pitch happiness made Keith’s stomach churn.

“You can come over, or I’ll come by. What’s better for you?”

He heard Lance’s breath hitch, before returning to the same tone as before.

“It’s about the texts isn’t it-look it’s no big deal, I’m sorry I worried you-“

“Lance, don’t. I know you. You don’t-you don’t have to do this.” He breathed into the phone, moving to the door and already grabbing his coat and motorcycle keys, “I’ll be at your place in 20 minutes. Is Hunk there?”

Lance gulped.“No. He’s at that hiking club weekend camp.”

Keith hummed in response, locking the door and heading down the hallway.“I’ll be there soon.”

Lance said nothing, and that in itself worried Keith.

“See you soon Lance” he said before moving the phone away from his ear.

“…Thanks” he heard Lance say before disconnecting the call.

*****

True to his word, he was there within 15 minutes, standing outside Lance and Hunk’s apartment, waiting for Lance to get to the door.

Lance opened it, and the view of him was something Keith wished he’d never have to see again.

Lance’s eyes were red and puffy, his smile strained and bleary, looking scrawnier than Keith remembered him in his oversized shirt and sweatpants, gait slow and tired.

Keith walked in, and a few minutes later found them on the balcony, looking down to the busy city through the bed of flowers and succulents Hunk and Lance planted on the sill, an ashtray balancing between them.

The times Keith saw Lance smoke were rare. There was the odd time during finals, when the stress got too much and the bitter taste was a welcome distraction. There’s a photo somewhere in Keith’s phone of the sight, Lance’s eyes half-lidded and lips pursed as he blows out smoke, thick lashes posing shadows on his cheekbones.

This time was different.Lance was slow and deliberately quiet, illuminated only by the city lights and occasional red and blue of a passing police car, face taunt and back slumped, elbows resting on the metal bars not covered yet by leaves.

Keith couldn’t take it, being so close but unable to do something, to bring the smile he loved back.

“You know” he started, his breath coming out as misty smoke in the cold air, “we don’t have to talk about it. Not if you don’t want to. But you-you should know that I’ll be here if you need anything okay? I can stay over until Hunk comes back, or I can call Pidge or Allura for you-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before he got an armful full of Lance, his hands opening in instinct before coming to rest on Lance’s shaking back, Lance’s head on his chest.

It was short, just enough to feel the warmth of the taller boy before Lance hurriedly pulled back, shaking his head.

“You’re-you’re really too damn good. I don’t deserve you.”

The words made Keith shiver, the way Lance whispered them, the air too tense, the city noise and bustle quieting down for this moment between them.

Lance’s breaths were ragged and shaky as he continued.

“I don’t deserve to love you.”

Keith stared as Lance huffed a laugh while pushing the butt of his cigarette to the ashtray, eyes purposely looking away from him.His smile tugged down, turning into a frown, into gritted teeth as his nose scrunched up and his jaw clenched, tears coloured by street lamps pooling on the sides of his eyes.

Lance rubbed furiously at his face with the back of his sleeve, the sounds of quiet sobs each like a kick to Keith’s chest.

“I-I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death” Lance whispered between cries, curling into himself.

Keith took a step closer, unable to form words, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard.

“It’s been like this for so long and-and I didn’t mean to, I don’t want to ruin this and I know I shouldn’t, and it won’t lead anywhere, but it hurts it hurts so much to keep it a secret for so long and it’s been-“

“Lance-“

“I know you’re the literal perfection and I’m just me and there’s a million reasons you shouldn’t like me back I know that and it’s dumb but-“

“Lance I-“

“I’ve got a messed up head and I cry too much and speak too loud and I’m too insecure and obnoxious and-“

“LANCE!”

His voice cut through their previous whispered conversation, through the barricade Lance had made with his hands in front of his face, his back on the wall and blinking eyes staring to Keith.

Keith took two steps and bridged the distance between them, his hands meeting Lance’s wrists and gently tugging them down, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m gonna kiss you now. Is that okay?”

Lance’s tears stopped, his lips trembling.

“Is that okay?” Keith repeated, waiting stubbornly for an answer.

Lance’s expression was one of frozen shock but he nodded, and that was all the invitation Keith needed before tilting his head up and kissing him, slow and careful, contrasting the way he still held Lance’s wrists in both hands, pinning him against the wall before releasing his hands in favour of cupping his face, rubbing the remainder of his tears with his thumbs.

“I love you. God dammit I’m in love with you, been in love with you for so long” he said between kisses, Lance’s breaths now matching his, “and you tell me we’ve been in love with each other all this time? That we were both too scared to admit it?”

Keith breathed a laugh, his own tears welling up, only different, happier, like anguish being released from his heart.

“Ridiculous. You stand there, trying to tell me you’re not the literal sun in a human form, listing off things I love about you like they’re flaws-“ he rolled his eyes and kissed Lance again until they were both gasping for air, looking to one another, Lance’s eyes still wide and lips parted, Keith’s stare stern and leaving no room for Lance to question his feelings.

“You don’t-when? Since when?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s since the first time we met. It just took a while to realise it.”

“We-we love each other?”

“Yeah, we do” Keith laughed, knocking his forehead onto Lance’s.

“You don’t think I’m not worth it?”

Keith moved back, looking to Lance, Lance with his face flushed despite the winter cold, lips plump and tear lines dried and etched onto his cheeks, palms on the wall to support his shaking legs.

“You’re absolutely worth it. And I’ll be here with you, for you until you realise it. And after that” Keith breathed, his words sincere and  voice shaking, “As long as you want me.”

“You’ll get tired.” Lance retorted.

“Never.”

“I cry a lot.”

“I know.”

“No like, a lot. And I complain. Constantly. And take too long to get ready.”

Keith snorted.“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“And you love me?”

He smiled.“I love you,” he said, “I was scared, I was so damn scared thinking you’d never love me back, trying to convince myself I was fine with us just being friends but-but I can’t. I love you.”

Lance was the one to take a step forward this time, moving from the wall and onto Keith, wrapping him in a bruising hug.

“You smell like smoke.”

They both laughed, the sounds of cityscape returning.

“And you taste like it, but you don’t see me complaining now do you?” Keith smirked, the sarcasm in his tone a trait Lance had managed to rub off onto him.

The laugh that followed is something he could only wish he’d be able to capture on film.

For now he was content to let it ring in his ears for as long as he could let it.

****

A few hours later found them huddled in Lance’s bed, content to look to one another, whispering quiet reassurances and sleepy ‘I love you’s.

Lance went to wrap an arm around Keith’s waist, wincing and sitting back up when his hands made contact with the hem of Keith’s high waisted jeans.

“You-you’re wearing pants!” Lance shrieked.

“Yeah..?” Keith’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. What-what was Lance saying?!

“You are wearing skinny jeans, in bed.” Lance stated, “What the hell Keith?”

Lance moved, leaning out of his bed and reaching for his drawers.“No skinny jeans allowed in bed. Nuh-uh. Here” he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, throwing them to Keith’s chest, “put on something comfortable!”

Keith raised an eyebrow.“Why? They’re pretty comfy, and I don’t have to get up and change in the morning”

The look Lance gave him could only be described as heinous.

“Change, now, or risk spending the night without cuddles.”

Keith didn’t need to be told twice.

****A pair of sweatpants and folded jeans later, Lance was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone, his small giggles and sleepy eyes brighter with the screen’s light, tuffs of hair pushed away from his eyes.

He turned to Keith with a grin when he sat back down on the bed, Lance wasting no time in tugging Keith back down and besides him, phone still in hand.

“A selfie!” He huffed, opening his camera app and turning it to the front-facing lens, “we need a selfie! This is an important event.”

Keith smiled but shook his head.“I look like death.”

“You look handsome as always. I look like death, and I want a selfie”

 Lance pouted, making it impossible for Keith to not kiss the pout off his lips.

He pulled away when he heard the click of a camera.

“Ha!” Lance grinned victoriously, then turned to face the screen as he took one more photo, just in time for Keith to look to the phone with a bemused gaze.

Lance tugged the phone closer to his chest, clicking through the two photos and showing them to Keith.

They were a bit blurry, both of them looking worse for wear, Keith’s cheeks puffed and Lance’s smirk devilish, a glint in his eyes that spelled trouble in the second pic, his eyes blown wide and face half hidden in the first one, Keith’s face turned to the side and lips meeting Lance’s.

“I’m using that as a screensaver” Lance stated.

Keith sleepily hummed, throwing a hand over Lance’s chest.

He made a mental note to tell Lance to send him those photos tomorrow.

After all, they’d have a millions tomorrows to share together from now on.

****

hit that reblog button if u too have slept in ur clothes just to have those five more minutes the next morning :’3

-Support me on Ko-Fi-

[haeroniel-doliet]

Hnghhh why does it require e f f o r t and p a t i e n c e and p r a c t i c e to get good at art????? I need to be good immediately and things i want to see appear at a snap of my fingers.......

Read more for what became an accidental full rant about why ive yet to post anything besides that one thing idkkkk

Aka im TRYING to be good and practice little by little but its BORING and difficult to not get immediate reward.... Also because for whatever reason i really dont wanna watch tutorials so im tryna be all self taught kinda and im OBVIOUSLY making a lot of mistakes like its part of the process but its FRUSTRATING

Basically im on my 6th??? Idk restart attempt at the same fennec portrait and its. Okay. Its at a point where im like nice as long as i suffer over the details here itll be decent ish. Probably.

But its not REWARDING.....

I know i want to do screencaps and character and face studies to get to the point of good art i wish i could be but .... I also just wanna draw like fun fic scenes and silly doodles of characters like some of the cool artists i follow do but i CANT because im not GOOD ENOUGH yet. ;(((((((

Yea i could post sketches or whatver i manage in a night but like who the fuck wants to follow that? Nah... I just idk. I DONT KNOW i dont know what my art goals are (i do, but DO I??)

My brain also obviously doesnt work very well visually which is GREAT so like, any original work its a lot like 'i'll know its right when i see it' but getting next to no other direction and you just gotta be like right. Okay uhhh my anatomy skills are stunted from when i was like 16?? Perspective?? Detail?? WHATS THE COLOR SCHEME

Never mind that i just... Dont understand the program or brushes that well idk why. Krita should be good and im too stressed to experiment different softwares.... BLEGH

i just. Part of me aches to go back to traditional for a bit but i just, dont have the means to make the scale of work i want ro produce with traditional materials yknow?? Maybe i should try just sketching scanning and then lining on computer again idk. At least for some of these face things.

Ok so my GOAL is to always have a very recognizable face. Like. I guess i cant hold myself to photorealism standards because hahahhah id die! But like, i want the face to be looked at and go ah yes! Its that guy! That actress! My friend! Me! Whoever! But like, recognizable. Because i know i CAN thats what i do! Thats all ive been good at !!!!

And like yeah i could hone that, yknow? Work on face studies and mini portraits of all my favourite actors and scenes and shit. Cool right?? Yeahh that could be sickaroni macaroni. People like faces they can recognize and good refined work. I can do that

But i want to be MORE

Id love love love to make like. Scenic paintings. Concept art level atmosphere and color and light and presence and as tory telling yknow?? Id like to substitute the literally colorless fog inside my head into vivid scenes. Id like to try and take the fics that in my head are set in ??? Space with some movement here and there and just idk emotions? Into fleshed out SCENES with backdrops and accurate anatomy and WEIGHT and like, everything incredible that i admire in true art.

But thats hard, yknow? I havent really ever done backgrounds and what i have have been so flat. I dont KNOW how to do that (here i would be willing to have a teacher i think but. Im tired. I cant even seek out a short term therapist for myself how am i gonna find the kind of teacher i want?? Because of course i want them to teach me how to achieve whata inside my dreams and not what they know how to do ykno)

Yeah so i want to try and paint screencaps in the meantime. See if i cant struggle my way to fit this putty of skill into a square box. Like i think i can paint. Digitally? Somewhat idk?? Maybe if i just. Keep trying itll work out?? Start with simpler ones and build up to complexity??

But also. If im juat trying to get myself to love art again, why am i trying to throw myself in the deep end of struggling with something im not good at?? Shouldnt i be just refining what i already know? Like. A character! Standing. Maybe in a cooler pose if going crazy. Refining basic anatomy. How does fabric work? How does hair work? Can i make expressions seem realistic?

Next step, could i make a picture of someone without direct reference?? Like. Could i draw maybe a wee dinluke holding eachother or whatever and like. Just. Do it?? Without doing a version of photoshopping two pics of the actors through art together. Idk.

Also NONE of this makes sense to anyone outside my head and im SORRY

Like i dont even have a resolution at the end here!!! Im just FRUSTRATED!!!

I wanna draw, i wanna have results and success and rewarding experiences. But i also want ro challenge myself and do super complex shit and like really push myself to learn impressive difficult shit and be proud of down the line.

Im so tired. I cant even feel ok drawing without having someone on call with me to alleviate the immense pressure of frustration and anxiety and stress and struggle!!

I just. Wanna enjoy it

Okay fine i need to find a show or smth to 'watch'

And tomorrow? I might whip out a sketchbook thats been last used 8 years ago and. Ignore everything in it hahhaha its bad

But no im gonna. Im gonna draw scenes. With minimal reference

I might make a face collage i definitely wanna for pascal and mar camel

But im gonna put PENCIL to PAPER and get to the roots of MY HAND CAN DRAW just give her a chance, and get your brain outta the game.

Ok so fuck me this rant has to end here or ill never stop

If you read this (i dont expect ANYONE to have) send me like a message or whatever lol imma need to ask if youre ok <3

[johnnys-so]

Hi there! May I get a Hongbin imagine? You being an intern at Jellyfish :) X

ofcourse!! i’ve been missing hongbin for a while idk i feel like im back in his lane for this comeback. these vixx boys play with my heart too much.

It wasn’t your first day at Jellyfish Entertainment, but it sure as hell felt like one. You had gotten past through the grueling first two months of awkward greetings and having to smile at people when you didn’t know their names and sitting through office dinners that you wanted no part of to be entirely honest. You genuinely believed things would get better. Atleast that’s what your friends in other companies said, but things just took a deep turn, south.

“Your/Last/Name Intern! We expected better from you. This is our best group and you think such bad planning will do? You better fill out the details and come up with better ideas before the next meeting or you’ll have to satisfy yourself in team C.”

Your manager wasn’t entirely wrong. VIXX was the best group that Jellyfish had. In the recent years, they had become financially profitable and surprised everyone with their constant amazing concepts. Having their next concept as your brain child wasn’t just stressful, it was plain hellfire breeding in your belly. Though you understood the importance of the situation, you couldn’t help but excuse yourself to the restroom to let the tears slip. It had been a stressful week and you genuinely believed they would only get worse.

When night rolled around, you were still in your cubicle, trashing yet another idea into the bin. You had been capable of coming up with amazing ideas so far - including their chokers + vests costume idea for stages. You had picked out the suits yourself. But this time, you had run out of them.

You decided to stretch your legs a little and pop out for some soju and snacks. Nothing like some alcohol to kick start inspiration right? So here you were, at the company’s cafeteria that was open late, trying to fish for a few extra coins in your coat pocket and you wished you could run back up to the office and get your other coat but the girl behind the cash counter didn’t look like she’d let you leave that easy. Before you could open your mouth for yet another apology, a pale hand passed some coins and notes across the counter and checked out for you, and him.

You turned out, indignation coursing through you, trying to tell your brain that you needed to thank them before anything. But Hongbin looks down at you with a familiar smile and your lips break out into a nervous smile themselves.

“You must be working too hard if you don’t have extra coins for soju too, Y/N.” He muttered quietly. He steered you to the table at the far end, and pushed your shoulders towards the chair so you’d sit down.

“I should go and get back to work, it’s your new concept and -” Your words were rushed and a tell tale sign of your anxiety. Though you and Hongbin hadn’t had a lot of run-ins, he knew you as the star intern of the team. Especially when he angrily set out to find the evil mastermind that wanted to reveal his abs in front of cameras and he was pointed towards you. He still remembered how you looked when he had cornered you on a Tuesday afternoon. Your hair was half in and out of your ponytail, the result of picking out fabric and colours with their stylist all day. He wanted to walk up to you and shake the concept pictures he got at you and demand for an answer. Except, all he managed was a small pipsqueak of ‘excuse me, may I speak with you for a bit?’

He was still glad that you gave all the deep cut vests to leo and saved him the trouble of public embarrassment.

“You need a break. Even a mind as brilliant as yours can’t always come up with answers if its overworked.” His eyes crinkled at their edge and he took a bite out of his sandwich.

You had no words to stutter out so you tried to focus on taking a rather large gulp of your soju. But your clumsy body nearly shut down your respiratory system and you ended up choking and gasping in front of him. Flustered, Hongbin leapt out of his seat and reached out for some tissues and ran back to you.

He chastised you for your hurried drinking and continued to dab the corners of your lips, trying to contain a smile that threatened to bloom on his face. “Aishhh, I can’t leave you alone for a moment.You’re a threat to yourself.”

“I’m fine. I’m just not used to compliments from you.” You tried to salvage the situation, and a little bit of your pride.

“Well, get used to it. It’s the least I can do to someone who went out of their way to make me feel comfortable.”

“I just did what I had to do Hongbin-sshi.”

“No. You could have just used me as the visual like everyone does, but I think you see me as a little bit more than that.” Hongbin’s voice dwindled to a whisper, his hand still perched softly on your shoulder. You let your fingers slutch his softly and turned around to say, “Ofcourse I do. You’re a kind and smart young man and you shouldn’t have to expose your skin just to make a few sales. You’re more than that.” You assured him.

Hongbin peeked out from under the fringe that fell over his eyes, to smile sweetly at you. Though it wasn’t your first and last meeting with VIXX’s visual Hongbin, it was definitely the one that Hongbin loved the most.

You helped him realise that he was more than just a pretty face.