#straight up considering dropping out if i fail again i dont even care anymore

[cuz-reasons]

What if I exploded? What then?

[leafcabbage]

me? talking more about my own fic? yep.

(going to be censoring parts of this so it doesnt end up in the band’s tag. also suicide discussion)

no more shame, no more fear, no more dread by a/j\j is, in my interpretation, a suicide note, passive or not. it is a declaration of having given up, that the only way to be free of those things is to not be alive, to not try, to not exist. 

“cabbage why are you talking about this? like, we know you like talking about bullshit but what’s up with this?”

that’s ranboo’s song in ycssgwtlfs. i tried so many times to make it a chapter title, from 14-20 especially, in the comments on my planning doc there were like 5 separate comments that were lyrics from it. but it was more encompassing than one chapter and so it didn’t make it. that’s why im talking about it.

i think it’s fairly clear that ranboo reaches a point of passive suicidality, but if it isn’t, that is part of the story. they so deeply stop caring about themself, they stop being afraid of everything being over, they’re passive to the idea of finally working themself to death. it’s just something that might happen.

anyways now i will make you look at specific lines (keep in mind that it’s all my own interpretations of the song):

“Forever purposeless, forever worthless Until all that I can do is beg for mercy Nothing will survive in that despair When something I hold dear is out to hurt me I kick that feeble dream and whisper something like a prayer”

gonna connect this straight to their realizing that their dreams at SPU, for their future, for being who they want to be are never going to be their reality. and further back, the same hopes when they were much younger, the holding on desperately to the idea of things improving slowly slipping away as time went on, the longer they were isolated, the more they realized that no one loved them. there is a genuine question of how they survived that the first time. and they wouldn’t have the second time without what happened in the fifth floor bathroom.

“When something stabs you, you gotta get more blood”

it’s a line about getting help, that you have to get help to survive. fairly self explanatory, the idea that it’s the only way to be okay, the idea of why do you have to survive.

“If my ugly had a shape it would be a spiral Moving forward as it spins around”

again pretty self explanatory i think. spiraling thoughts, self hatred, panic, etc. if that’s not ycssgwtlfs ranboo i dont know what is 

the entire bridge of the song is another thing, listing bad things in the world with “no more” before the word(s), i mean hell i could talk about that for hours, but i wanted to just drop a little analysis of the song that connects to so much of that fic

i know its my fic, but i think a lot about in chapter 20, the lines “They wanted to be done, they wanted to give up, they were done, they were giving up...” because that would’ve been the start of the end, not because they would’ve directly killed themself, but there would be no level of trying anymore, nothing pushing them to do anything for themself. they would have failed their classes. they would’ve had to leave SPU. they would have had literally nothing and no reason or resources for turning things around.

now i like to think that they would’ve gotten help eventually still, it was established multiple times that there were people who wanted to help, but its hard to say. its hard to say if they would’ve been findable. its hard to say if anyone would’ve gotten any closure in what happened to them, how much guilt they all would feel, and what everyone would’ve lost.

we dont really have to consider that. but it was and to an extent still is that tommy and tubbo tried, hoped, kept going in the way ranboo couldn’t, taking care of them in the ways that they couldn’t even consider taking care of themself. they werent drinking water before that, that’s something so basic from anyone who cares in the slightest. they are doing the basics now, but there are other needs that they still dont/dont know how to meet for themself, and while it isnt tommy and tubbo inherent responsibility to help with that, they choose to, and they will continue to, and it’s going to be a long time before ranboo doesnt have to try to care for themself and it comes more naturally.

kinda gone off on a tangent, but i hope any of this makes sense lol 

[ibijau]

How about one where Huaisang accidentally ascended (as in HOB) and Nmj and Lxc have no idea that their Sang-di's a baby god? He can't interfere with anything in the mortal realm, which is why he's always running from martial practice and saying 'i dont know' instead of giving straight answers. He's much more commonly known among the common people than cultivators (god of something simple but sweet?), and Meng Yao is the first to suspect (Can be extended to eventual XiSang where LXC...worships).

Well it only took me like four months to fill this prompt, and then when I finally did I basically ditched everything your suggested except for the “nhs accidentally ascended” part but... hey, if you’re still around after this much time, enjoy??

When Nie Mingjue is twenty and finally given full reign of his sect, there's a huge storm that nearly blows off all the roofs of the Unclean Realm. It is everything he doesn't need, but honestly everything these last three years has been everything he didn't need, starting with his father's death. In the morning, when the storm calms down, he assesses the damage, organises for those wounded by debris to be taken care of, sends disciples in Qinghe and the closest villages to see if they need help.

It isn't a surprise when he learns that the storm only struck the Unclean Realm. There was a taste in the air that did not feel natural.

Hearing this only worsens Nie Mingjue's other concerns. Namely, the disappearance of his prodigy of a little brother. Nobody has seen Nie Huaisang since the storm. His room appears to have been devastated by the winds, everything thrown upside down. His wing of the main residence is the one that has suffered the most damages, the roof apparently blown open.

Initially, Nie Mingjue did not particularly worry. Since the storm was unnatural, it wouldn't be strange for Nie Huaisang to have noticed it and gone after the source of it. It's reckless, and he'll get scolded for it, but it can't be helped. Nie Huaisang cannot see a wrong without wanting to right it. Yet as the hours pass, and then the days, Nie Mingjue gets more and more anxious. Just like the storm that hit them so hard, nobody around has Nie Huaisang. He has simply vanished. Search parties are sent everywhere, inquiries are made to allied clans.

Nothing.

Not a trace.

After a month, Nie Mingjue is starting to consider checking with Qishan Wen when one afternoon, Nie Huaisang simply passes the gate of the Unclean Realm.

Nie Mingjue hugs him and scolds him and demands an explanation, but none comes.

“I got lost,” Nie Huaisang laughs. “I didn't realise so much time had passed. It felt shorter, or I'd have come home sooner, I swear!”

“But where were you?”

“Somewhere I shouldn't have been,” Nie Huaisang evasively replies. “I'm home now. That's what matters.”

It's all Nie Mingjue can get from him. Considering his brother's taste for secrets, he should have expected it.

“Don't do that again,” he orders, before letting the matter drop.

-

Nie Huaisang doesn't train anymore after the storm. At first, he says his long wandering exhausted him. Then he pretends he wants to focus on his calligraphy, on painting, on just anything but martial arts.

Nie Mingjue lets it slide at first. He's long given up on making sense of his brother, and Nie Huaisang has always been a little too wise for his age. Whatever he does, he does for a reason. But as weeks pass and his brother doesn't return to the training grounds, Nie Mingjue has no choice but to corner him about it.

“I don't like it anymore,” Nie Huaisang says. “It's boring.”

“I'm told you also don't meditate. Is that boring as well?”

Nie Huaisang nods firmly.

“What's the point? I now we do this to reach immortality, and maybe even to ascend but... I've given it a lot of thought lately. I don't think it'd be much fun, being a god.”

“What are you even talking about? You... Huaisang, you're good but you're fourteen, it's not like there's any risk of you ascending!”

Nie Huaisang laughs and laughs and laughs.

“Right? I am just fourteen, it'd be so stupid! Still, better not take the risk.”

“Huaisang! Enough now!”

Nie Huaisang pouts, and whines, and gets dragged to the training grounds anyway, where he performs with a mediocrity that he's never shown before. He can't even hold his damn sabre properly, drops it several time. Nie Mingjue is too stunned to even think of punishing him.

Stunned and worried.

This simply isn't like his brother.

-

With help from the elders and some healers, a number of tests are conducted on Nie Huaisang. He is not possessed. He mind is not altered. He hasn't been cursed. His cultivation hasn't been damaged. If anything, it might have risen higher than last time they checked for it.

“Then what's wrong with him?” Nie Mingjue asks.

The elders look at one another, unsure what to say.

“Teenage rebellion?” one of them suggests.

“Gods. That'd be worse than a curse,” Nie Mingjue sighs. “How do we fix that?”

-

Every few weeks, Nie Mingjue gets letters from the Cloud Recesses. Lan Qiren is at his wit's end with Nie Huaisang, because there's no way a boy this clever can fail so consistently. He thinks it's done on purpose. Nie Mingjue, after being shown some of his brother's tests, can only agree.

This, too, makes no sense. Nie Huaisang is competitive to a fault and cannot stand it if anyone is better than him at something. In the company of people as famously brilliant as Lan Wangji, Jiang Wanyin, Jin Zixuan, and Wei Wuxian, Nie Huaisang should be thriving and fighting for top position.

Instead, he has taken to drinking and looking at porn.

He still passes his exams, with the best grade of his class.

When asked about it, he just says he didn't feel like going back because the food is really too awful and he missed home.

-

After that year in Gusu, Nie Mingjue gives up on getting his brother back to normal. This is just who Nie Huaisang is now apparently. Gone is the martial prodigy, all Nie Mingjue has now is a bumbling fool who cares for nothing but fans and birds.

Especially birds.

Frequently, Nie Huaisang disappears for days on hand to go birdwatching. That alone is frustrating, since he rarely bothers to say where he's going or for how long. But then, he also systematically leaves his sabre behind, and refuses to take an escort with him, arguing everyone is too loud and will scare away his feathery targets.

Nie Mingjue gives orders that his brother isn't to be allowed outside of the Unclean Realm on his own. Nie Huaisang still manages to get out whenever he damn pleases and laughs it off when his brother gets concerned that there are secret passages in the Unclean Realm.

“An enemy could use that to get inside and slaughter us without warning!” Nie Mingjue points out.

“No, that's not going to happen,” Nie Huaisang replies with a knowing smile. “Nobody can get in. The Unclean Realm will never fall.”

“You don't know that!”

Nie Huaisang laughs.

Nie Mingjue never gets him to reveal how he leaves the Unclean Realm.

-

When the Wens come to the Unclean Realm and demand that Nie Mingjue put his little brother in their hands, he refuses. If they want a war, he's ready to give it to them, even if the rest of the cultivation world would rather grovel at their feet than stand for themselves.

His brother has other ideas. Nie Mingjue finds a note announcing that Nie Huaisang has decided to offer himself as hostage, because he fears they are not ready yet for a war.

Nie Mingjue could kill him for that betrayal.

He knows the Wen might beat him to it.

-

As soon as Nie Huaisang makes it home with a bunch of desperate but unharmed kids from a number of other sects, Nie Mingjue announces that he's sending him to Gusu.

“No, my place is in the Unclean Realm!” Nie Huaisang protests. “I belong here. I know it now, I know this for sure, I have to be here.”

“Are you going to fight at my side then?” Nie Mingjue counters. “Are you going to pick up your sabre at last and help me?”

“I can help without a sabre. Mingjue, don't send me away. I want to be here. This is my home, I need to be here.”

“It's the sabre or Gusu.”

Nie Huaisang whines and pouts and begs and complains and even threatens, to no avail. Nie Mingjue will not bulge from the choice he's giving him.

Without surprise, Nie Huaisang chooses Gusu.

Nie Mingjue wishes it didn't disappoint him.

-

The war is bloody and harsh and it should be hopeless, but it is not.

Several times, they snatch a victory at the last moment through sheer luck. Hope, that most precious of commodities at such a time, never leaves them. Rumours start to circulate among the disciples of those sect who chose to stand against Qishan Wen, although it is many weeks before they reach Nie Mingjue, who never paid much attention to gossip.

In the end, it is Lan Xichen who tells him about it, seemingly rather amused by the stories about...

“A young man wearing a mask who sometimes appears when the situation is desperate,” he explains. “He carries no weapon, but he has a magical fan that he uses when fighting. He is rarely seen in battle, but several people who had been taken prisoner claim that he came down from the heavens to free them before they could be tortured or killed.”

“A rogue cultivator?”

Lan Xichen smiles, but shakes his head.

“A god, apparently.”

Nie Mingjue snorts. Gods don't mess with the affairs of mortals.

“Don't dismiss it so easily,” Lan Xichen scolds him. “I can name more than one sect that decided to join us after hearing about the Faceless God on our side.”

“They even gave him a title?”

“They had to, he never gave his name.”

It's a ridiculous rumour, and it can't be anything more. On a rare letter sent to his brother in Gusu, Nie Mingjue mentions it, guessing that this is the sort of things that might amuse him. He used to like stories of gods and immortals, before he became someone Nie Mingjue doesn't know anymore.

-

It's just a rumour, but even within his own ranks, Nie Mingjue catches a few people praying to the Faceless God on the eve of battle.

He doesn't dissuade them. With the war dragging on and the Wens still so strong in number, people need something to hold on.

Nie Mingjue puts all his faith in his own strength and that of the people he trusts, but he understands that not everybody can be satisfied with this.

-

And then he meets the Faceless God.

-

A young man wearing a mask, Lan Xichen had described him, but all Nie Mingjue sees is a boy in disguise, trying to appear taller and larger than he is.

He carries no weapon, and Nie Mingjue understands why when he sees the fan in the Faceless God's hand. It is one he has seen too many times in the last few years. He wonders if the boy who holds it assumed nobody would recognise it as easily as they might know his sabre.

He rarely joins in battle, but he comes for those who have been captured, like Nie Mingjue dragged before Wen Ruohan, humiliated by Meng Yao who he once trusted above all others.

Both Meng Yao and the Faceless God strike Wen Ruohan at the same time.

Both Meng Yao and the Faceless God cower in fear before Nie Mingjue when he rises to his feet.

Meng Yao kneels before him and swears he was always on their side.

The Faceless God runs away.

It doesn't matter.

Nie Mingjue knows where to find him.

-

It is a while before Nie Mingjue recuperates enough from his injuries to return home. When he finally does, Nie Huaisang is waiting at the gate for him, an uncertain smile on his face and a fan in his hand. Nie Mingjue hugs him and asks for news of the reconstruction in Gusu, unsurprised when the answers remain evasive.

He waits until they are alone in his room to ask the question that really matters.

“It was that storm, wasn't it?”

Nie Huaisang freezes in the act of pouring tea, looking like a rabbit who spotted a hawk. Slowly, hesitantly, he nods.

“If you ascended, why are you here?”

“This is home,” Nie Huaisang simply says. Then, when his brother frowns, he adds: “I never expected to ascend, and when it happened, I realised I didn't want to. They gave me all those rules to follow, they told me I couldn't see you again, couldn't go home again and that was... I belong here. I belong in the Unclean Realm. Maybe when you're gone I'll feel differently, but for now this is home and I'm not going anywhere. The Heavenly Emperor himself could order me to leave and I wouldn't. Which is exactly what I told him before I came back here.”

“You rebelled against the Heavenly Emperor.”

Nie Huaisang nods.

“You're an idiot.”

“I was fourteen!” Nie Huaisang protests. “I should never have ascended! I wasn't prepared for it! I'm still not prepared for it. I don't care about their rules, I don't care about emperors and gods and anything else. But I care about my home, and I care about my people, and I care about what's right.”

Nie Mingjue sighs. This is so wrong, on so many levels. There are reasons why gods don't meddle with mortal affairs, why they stay in their own domain most of the time. This is wrong and it'll bring trouble down the line, he's sure of it, but... but suddenly, so much makes sense, and he's proud of Nie Huaisang.

“I'm not calling you 'Highness',” he warns.

“I sure hope not. I'm still your didi, now and always.”

Nie Mingjue smiles, and pulls his heavenly brother into a tight hug. Everything else is going to be different, but this bond between us will never change, he's certain of that.

[lordseochangbin]

lordseochangbin’s jype series smut: music producer

requested: daddy kink 

you shoved your face into the pillow, crashing onto the couch as you seemed to fail yet again at making a beat for the new track you were walking on. you dressed well today, a tight black skirt with a black denim skirt that hugs your waist but it didn’t change your mood nor your ability to make music.

honestly speaking you were new to the studio, starting off other producers saw your potential and decided to have you be the main producer for one of jyp’s newest girl groups.

this was an amazing job, considering you had left america to pursue a career and you felt you had zero confidence in actually making it in. but now here you were, having a mental breakdown in the studio after getting two hours of sleep trying to cram in a nice track before the deadline.

it was stressful.

you managed to keep your eyes open in front of the computer screen fiddling with some last minute adjustments before you could here one of jyp’s music directors come in.

considering he didn’t speak proper english and it had only been your second week into your korean class, it was hard to communicate back and forth.

“how is your work?” the director asked confidently.

you turned around in excitement from the english, not sure if you understood correctly due to the accent.

“i haven’t finished it yet, im so sorry. just give me another 2 hours ill get it done!!”

the director glared at you in confusion but by your expression figured what had happened.

“argh!” he exclaimed, “i can’t work with these american producers!”

your eyes started to tear up. this was the downside of being in korea, you always felt left out. of course korea is open to visitors but living here felt like an outsider in a different world and the fact that you had no time to do your korean classes didn’t help much.

as you whipped your tears you felt a tall blonde enter the room, his confidence gleaming almost as if he owned the room. “did you need my help?” he peeked in whispering to the director.

his hair was wet, his shirt damp of sweat from practicing with the rest of his group. it was bang chan, the leader of stray kids. part of the musical group 3racha, whose beats you had always admired.

the director came to chan and whispered a new words into his ear before turning back to you and waving goodbye. “take care...”

chan stood there for a few seconds, then walking about to the couch and sitting down. you turned around to view him from the front of your recording set.

“hi, my names y/n”

“haha, i know. i’ve seen you around! nice to meet you”

“you too!! wow im really sorry to interrupt you during practice i know it’s probably hard to cram in all this stuff an-“

“don’t worry about it. id love to help you” bang chan interrupted, pulling out his laptop.

you sat next to him as he pulled out some tracks, “here let me show you some 3racha tracks that i have.. just the music”

one of the tracks started playing causing your jaw to drop, “dude!! that beat is sick!” you praised.

bang chan’s eyes widened as he tried to pause the song, “wait this track-” you listened attentively, wondering why bang chan wouldnt be proud of it

“chan what’s the problem?” before chan could pause the track you heard the sounds of heavy moans added to the background, causing you to bite your lip

chan shut down the laptop, looking towards you in embarrassment. 

“i..i’m sorry about that y/n”

you laughed as his cheeks turned red, “pfft, sorry? that’s exactly why girls are on their knees for you chan. you’re literally the hot shot of stray kids”

chan raised his eyebrows at your response, “you think so?”

“pfft.. don’t get too flattered. that’s everyone else’s opinion”

he placed a hand on your knee, pulling himself closer to you almost inches away from your face. “maybe i could change that”

you placed a finger under his chin, pulling him even closer. “the only thing i need help with...” you pushed him to the side before continuing, “is my music”

“oh come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing your hips making you fall onto his lap.

chan pulled back from hair from your face before staring lustfully into your eyes, “y/n.. i think the first thing you need to do is get rid of that stress.”

you pulled away from his lap, lying on your stomach as you buried yourself into the pillow. you were unconvinced that chan could help you with just that before he gripped his hands onto your shoulders, massaging them gently. 

it was a few seconds of heaven as he rolled his palms on your back, “chan.. that feels so good..how did you-”

chan removed his hands, laughing as you turned around. “chan.. why’d you stop?”

“i dont think i can continue to help, you said i wasn’t the hot shot of stray kids” he shrugged, putting his laptop away.

you watched as he stood up, is he being for real?

“no wait chan-” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you approached him slowly, covering the door so he couldn’t leave

“you are.. the most hottest, sexiest, cutest member of stray kids” you continued sarcastically

“i think you forgot talented.” he said

“i think we can leave that out for today” you grabbed his hand, guiding him back to the couch.

“now help me.. pleaseeee” you pleaded.

“honestly speaking, i think you need to find some sort of inspiration”

“what’s yours? sex?” you spurted out

chans jaw clenched, making you stutter a bit. “l-look sorry i tend to be a little-”

“no..” chan interrupted, his voice low. “i get it. you think you’re funny right? flirty? with you skirt so close to your cunt.. i could fuck you over in seconds. i’m gonna tease you everyday until you break”

you laughed, slapping your hand onto his chest. “chan.. or chris. i know i’ve only been here for a few months and you might think of me as inexperienced in music, but i have to confess i am much more experienced in other things.”

you grabbed his hand, placing it under your skirt as he grabbed your thigh. “so if you think you’re ‘turning me on’ right now, or whatever the fuck you think you’re doing chan, try again” you smiled widely before standing up to grab your things and left the room.

perhaps you could say you took chan’s breath away. he had never met a girl as sexy as you. compared to the way you looked when he came to now, it was almost like you had a switch to you. you realized it to, how did his presence bring you such confidence? 

chan kept his word. with every interaction he found some way to get his hands on you, some way to keep you distracted, some way to get you riled up. but you contained all of this distress until you got home, determined to make sure he doesn’t get what he wants. 

but the dildo didn’t help.

should you give him a shot? you wondered to yourself

the question got you thinking about bang chan all night in bed until you decided to text him.

me: chan.. it’s y/n 

bang chan: aw babygirl, feeling needy now?

you read the message smirking as you imagined bang chan at your door. you thought about it, maybe he was as sexy as his fans put him out as. 

your reply said nothing of the sort.

me: no, i just needed up with music

bang chan: are you sure it’s just music y/n?

your legs started the grab the comforter, no longer being able to take the heat in between them

me: no.. i

me: i just cant stop thinking about you in between my legs. i want you so bad

bang chan: y/n.. now thats what i like to hear

bang chan: i swear to you one night i wont stop fucking you until your legs are shaking and the neighbors know my name

you gasped at the text, throwing your phone on the floor and grabbing your pillow. your cheeks flushed red at the thought of bang chan, what he was capable of. that night you went to bed thinking about him right next to you, he was even in your dreams. you had fallen in love with bang chan.

~~~

the next day around 8 am when you arrived at the jyp building you walked down the hall full of studios, interrupted by a hand that slammed you hard against the wall.

“missed me?” bang chan asked

you scoffed under your breath, “you wish” you replied before continuing the walk. once you opened the door to the studio you were off the floor and inside the arms of bang chans’. 

“this outfit of yours is really nice, for whom? i wonder” you wore a white crop top with a black and red plaid skirt, along with some combat boots to complete a cute school girl look, which obviously turned him on.

“chan..chan the music” you responded, realizing the director might come soon.

“ok i finished editing the track you need to show to the director, he should be here in 30” he said, carefully putting you on the black leather couch. 30 minutes...would that be enough?

the second he sat on the couch you couldn’t hold back anymore. you trapped him against the cushion, thrashing your lips against his, rolling your hips on him, your hands exploring all over bang chan. you wanted it all.

the kiss took him by surprise, his hands picking you up from the bottom of your thighs and lifting you onto his lap. 

your core felt like soaring fire at this point, and it being pressed against his cock didn’t help a single bit. 

“daddy please.. i need you right now. all i can think about is you. you teased me enough please” you whimpered.

“i’m sorry.. what did you call me?”

“d-daddy. please fuck me” you panted, the feeling of member growing under you was taunting. you couldn’t stand it anymore, and bang chan loved that.

“fuck.. look at my babygirl” he said, his thumb sliding across his cheeks before he could harshly grab your chin. “y/n is so good and submissive.. and its 8 in the morning, i can only imagine how much sleep you lost last night”

he forced two digits to pass your lips, “suck”. his thumb held your face straight, his eyes dark and full of need as you grind on his hips, him jerking into you every once in awhile.

soon he dragged his fingers away from your lips, leaving them to part as he removes his t-shirt and soonly after both of your clothes and thrown onto the hard floor. 

“chan.. he’s coming in 25 minutes we’re gonna get caugh-”

chan sealed your worries with a kiss, his fingers playing around your folds as he felt your bare skin against his. 

it was weird, you thought, to see him bare naked under you. his member was massive as well, the thought of it inside you leaving you to drool.

chan’s member brushed against your entrance making you grip tighter on his arms. “chan” you pouted, “just fuck me already”

your actions resulting in a few spanking from chan however, “what did you call me babygirl?” 

his voice made you whimper, your voice stuttering as you replied, “d-d-daddy... please i need you so bad”

chan smirked, “you’re not such a good girl anymore huh? always in need of daddy’s big cock”

“my daddy is the bestest” you replied innocently, taking chan by surprise when you get on all floors, yourself in between in legs as you lick a strip of his member.

“y/n...” he softly moaned your name, giving you motivation to suck on his dick. 

his hands grabbed your hair, pushing you closer to him and fucking your mouth. chan smirked as you looked up to him, the way you made him feel, like he was the most blessed man on this planet.

“you’re so beautiful” he praised as you sucked on his tip, his hips bucking as he fucked you harder. you leaned back this time, your core throbbing on inactivity, your fingers not helping a single bit. 

it was about time when you got on top of chan, sinking down on his member slowly. your teeth gnawed onto chan’s neck as you felt your walls being stretched to his size, “you’re so big daddy”

chan sped up his pace with no warning, giving you no time to adjust. your hands gripped onto his shoulders as your heard chan say, “i-i think i’m gonna cum. you sucked me off so well babygirl”

“let’s ride it off together” you said in a shaky voice. seconds later, both of you released on each other before you could hear a few knocks from the door. frantically you jumped from chan’s lap, throwing him his clothes and putting on yours.

“i’m coming!!” you replied.

“that’s what she said” chan replied with a smirk, you sending a deadly glare at him as you forced on your skirt. 

“help me with this?” you asked chan, gesturing at your zipper.

“are you wearing no underwear?” your eyes glowed as you shut his mouth, running over to answer the door. you felt relieved almost, despite your job being at stake if the music wasn’t good enough. you opened the door to see the tall man with a suit on. 

“how’d she do?” the director asked chan as he walked into the studio.

“y/n.. she was perfect.”

[eagesoldartblog]

fantasy au w/ lewthur or lewvithur where one or more of them is royalty/a high ranking noble? no pressure but id love to see your take on it :0

I PUT IN SO MUCH TIME INTO THIS, BEcause this is an actual fic I want to write, so THANK YOU for this. B U T this actually has two parts, because,,, It became ten pages lONG. 

Claiming The Prince’s Heart

Sunlight beams through fleece clouds, filtering its rays through the thickets of yellowing canopy, and shining down on the blanket of red leaves coating the forest floor. A torrent of a river is not too far off, streaming water that was so clear and reflective that you could make the stars out in them. Accompanied by her own heavy steps, and the prince’s behind her. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to come out here, I’ll have to make sure to give him my thanks. Of course..

“Dame Vivi,” She turns, head bowed, smiling. Unable to help the pull of her lip, it wasn’t every day that she got to see her highness. Especially not like this. With his hands clasped tightly together and eyes darting around every which way, a hint of rosiness blossoming in his cheek- whether it was from the mild chill or his utter delight on being let outside for once- well, it wouldn’t have made a difference. “Thank you for accompanying me out here today. I promise that it has left me with nothing less than gratitude and ecstasy, I will make sure you are rewarded handsomely for your sacrifice-”

“Your highness, with all due respect,” 

“Yes?” He continues to smile, but now it is almost perfect, a replication of a doll. 

“You dont have to address my like other nobles, your highness.” 

Arthur noticably deflated. His prim and proper smile dropping with a sigh and he sags forward, “Thank the good heavens.. I was wondering when you’d give me the go ahead..” He mumbles, pressing his fingers into his cheeks and forcibly massaging them. The ache must have been unbearable! Vivi snorts into her palm- accidentally bumping her nose in too far.

“You know, you don’t have to wait for me,” she explains, and part of her wonders how many times he has, but with a flick of her wrist, and grabbing his attention, she adds, “you could just begin to address me casually as soon as we step out.”

“And let the other guards and ad-advisors think you’re a seduc-ductress in disguise?” Arthur crosses his arms, nodding his head back to the castle with a bitterness clouding his eyes, Vivi only laughed more, “Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Haha! How funny. To think!” Taking a step forward, Vivi takes his wrist and holds it up, pulling him into her, leading him into a twirl, “The one dame they have been sending you out with every season is the one slowly undoing all of their precious work!” His disdain melts away, and he falls with her elegantly- he must have learned the dance recently. Vivi lets go of Arthur and drapes herself dramatically against a nearby tree, feigning despair, “Oh, the tragedy!”

A hand flashes out before her, and despite the anxiety Vivi could feel from its slacked position a dazzling warmth dancing across his face instead, “The Greeks will have a thrill recounting our t-tales.”

“Our downfalls,” She takes his, pulling him into the clearing.

Bad idea, Arthur’s eyes dart in every which direction, “O-our triumphs,” before his expression shifts and- 

“Into the great fall of the Hidorian kingdom!” They sing in usion, before Arthur bursts into a fit of cackling giggles, muffled by his own hand slapping a hand over his mouth. Raising her eyebrow, Vivi couldn’t help but laugh as well. But what made him this hysterical..? Dread? Is a war on the way?

“Well, i’m glad to hear you’re still in good spirits, your highness..” Standing straight, she returns to his side and places a hand on his shoulder- ignoring how he stiffens, “But you don’t usually joke about .. that. Is something up? Everything going alright with your healer?”

A shallow breath, and he stands straight. Any amount of cheeriness they just had vanished in an instant. “… Ah, yeah, it’s fine..” Frowning, Vivi crosses her arms, able to tell by the shudder in Arthurs shoulders that there was bound to be more. Swinging around- far too exaggerated than one would ever assume of a prince, his voice spills out of his mouth faster than he thought, “Well! things are-! Uh They are k-kinda difficult! But-! But, it’ll be alright in the end. No- nothing.. Will fall or- be destroyed or- or .. anything!”

“Hm.” Arthur freezes in his place, eyes wide and lit like candle flames, tucking her hands behind her back, Vivi leans forward barely an inch, “I won’t push if you desire, but what do you mean? Surely something must be wrong for you to talk about the end of our name.” Slowly approaching him, Vivi watches his shoulders ride up into his ears and his eyes dart from the trees, the grass and finally back to her. As if worried that someone else will hear. 

Cringing, Arthur bites his lip, “Well… I- we… “ In the distance a twig snaps- most likely from a squirrel- but Arthur jolts hard and jumps into a ridiculously panicked pose, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed together, breath rapid. 

“Your highness,” he flinches again, gaze shifting one last time before realization dawned on him… how ludicrous he was being. “This… you cannot speak a word of this to anyone. Understand?” 

With a nod, Vivi lets her arms cross and her eyes soften- hopefully lending an ounce of peace to Arthur. 

“We-we..  figured I am still a hopeless romantic,” A rush of blood filling his cheeks, averting his gaze, “The priestess worries I’ve been .. st-struck by cupid’s arrow, and considering the curse… I… “ Arms folding, he clutches the fabric tightly and gnaws on his lip- hard enough to be noticeable, and Vivi resists the urge to warn him against it.

But the fear that noticeably coursed through his body. Hard shadows reflecting that onto the otherwise vibrant scenery around them. A cold wind slamming into them at the same time. For good reason too.

That wouldn’t stop her. Moving closer, Vivi resists the urge to take him by the shoulders and hold him close in a hug, “Yes? Did someone catch your eye?” 

Arthur pauses, eyeing her carefully. His eyebrows furrowed together and for half a second his lip quivered. 

Before his smile- lacking anything real- returns and his shoulders sink, “You can say that, Dame Vivi. Hopefully in the coming years, it won’t be an issue anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

Arthur tilts his head, “You ask a lot, don’t you?”

“When I hear any news concerning my prince and my kingdom, I must know every detail. To quell my aching heart.” Her heart was racing, slamming against her chest. Whatever fear she felt wouldn’t find its way onto her face, however. Not when he was already under this stress. 

He didn’t relax. Instead the artificial structure of his posture and expression had become especially more fabricated. “A witch is on his way to the kingdom tonight. Do you by chance recall the name, Lewis Pepper?”

“Lewis Pepper of Paradiso. A promising Witch who stumbled upon the kingdom at the age of five. Possessing the great prowess of a Shaman- able to communicate and control the unknown realm with minor complication. A prodigy who had been taken in by the monks to properly train and learn.” Vivi recites, spouting off the information like it was her own name. Of course she would know his name. All Knights and Dames are required to learn the names and attributes of all known magic users- whether affiliated with religion or not. 

Magic never fails, and its power of the three realms is even more so. But harnessable by human beings? Humans who are driven to madness over a single thought and possessing ambitions beyond themselves? 

Leaving those of that nature unchecked is a death sentence. Everyone knew this.

Arthur tilts his head, “I’m pleased, then I won’t have to give another explanation. Tonight, he will be arriving here, and we will be performing a ritual. One that will hopefully cure me of this dreaded hex.”

“What-!” Vivi gasps. Mouth hanging open, several thoughts jumbling up and smacking together in a buzzing train of thought, “But-!…” Questions are about to fly, but Arthurs expression shifts from empty kindness and content to a look that a testy tyrant would wear. Daring her. Vivi grinds her teeth, takes a short breath, and straightens up, “Ahem, my dearest apologies your highness. That is excellent news, and I am delighted to hear it. However, I do have concerns.”

“And what would those concerns be?” 

Taking a deep breath, Vivi looks him in the eyes, and doesn’t flinch when she meets Arthur’s face again, “I mean no disrespect, but hasn’t previous attempts at this exact thing been a failure? Not only that, but you must be aware of his… condition.”

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“Reverend Pepper isn’t completely human.”

Arthur’s eyes widen for hardly a second, before he closes his eyes and nods, “We are well aware of his inhumane status. In fact, during the ritual, several more priests and witches- all under our own name- will be overlooking the rituals. As well as a charge of Dames and Knights.”

She hums, and her shoulders sag, nodding as her mind begins to drift, picturing the worst case scenarios, “Of course. I can only imagine that there would be ample security.”

“Dame Vivi.” 

She straightens up again.

“Would you like to join the onlookers tonight?” 

Heart stillen, Vivi gulps. 

“I would feel much safer with you present.” 

A carriage rolls across the dirt path - its wheels filled with creaking and its occupants spoke silent chatterings with hushed whispers - slowly approaches the secret entrance to the grand Hidorian palace. A sheltered and hidden part of the castle, where no civilian should be able to locate and travel inside without the consultant of the guards and council. 

Now, a great gathering of guards, priests and scribes were settled around its gate. The great councils and advisors of the king and the prince stood tall. Lacking care for how their fine robes draped against the ground and was stained by its dirt. Of course, none would dare mention it in the presence of the King and the Prince. 

Those two stood in the front and center of the gathering, watching the carriage roll through without a sound. 

Arthur shuffles in his spot, fists tightly pressed to his hips. Beads of sweat threaten to slide down his cheek as his anxiety grows with each creak of those wheels. Lip pulled in a nervous frown, Arthur spares the king a look, “Your majesty-”

“That isn’t my name, Arthur.” 

Uncle. Arthur spares his uncle a look, and he coughs back the urge to mention how that was inappropriate. But then again- who was going to tell them how to address one another? “Fine- Lance, uh-” As the words come out, it became abundantly clear that he didn’t have a single clue on what to ask the shorter man- who now peers over to him with an eyebrow raised, which was in itself very reminiscent of how he looked much earlier in life when his brother was king and he was a simple black smith who didn’t take anything from anyone and-

“Arthur.” 

He swallows back the urge to whine, forcing his gaze back to the carriage. He can almost see the outline of the Witch through the sun kissed tarps- and god did he look massive. Arthurs shoulders sank along with his heart and finally his brain spits out something, “Just- just nervous. I- ahem, I worry if this ritual will work, or if there will be any spies within their group or-” 

“There is no need to worry, your highness.” A priestess takes a step beside him, and her comforting presence does nothing to take away the unease on his shoulders. He meets her gaze, and it’s obvious she feels the same. It’s been this way ever since their last.. meeting. Blond hair in tight coils against her scalp, and her look of worry even more prominent, Madam Chloe continues, “According to the advisors, only Reverend Pepper will be present during the ritual.” 

“And his companions will not be coming forth into the castle.” An advisor- Duet- mentions from behind him. Arthur spares them a glance, and instead of the usual look of stoic content, there was twinges of worry lacing their features. Much like the rest of the Knights and Dames, as well as the priests and nuns and … everyone. 

It did nothing to ease the stress in his shoulders, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t expected. It was always this way. Arthur reminds himself, switching his attention back to the carriage, which finally stopped. Its Coach man lifting the door that held the key to his own salvation. 

Stepping out, was truly a monster of a man. Dressed in dark robes and wooly hair pulled back in a conservative manner, and glassy purple eyes shifting to meet his gaze. This time Arthur couldn’t even begin to process the sheer magnitude of him. Not only that but how… terrifying it was to be in his presence. He’s heard many times of what this man looks like, how tall he is, and how strong he is due to his inhuman nature. Except now it was real, and it was triple his expectation. 

But despite that, somehow, Reverend Pepper had… such a gentleness to his eye. A calm smile and his presence seemed to exude peace. All despite being a witch. Arthur gulps back his anxiety, straightening up, and looks him in the eye. 

“Welcome, Reverend Pepper. We are humbled to make your acquaintance. Was the trip smooth and stress free.” 

Pepper, chuckling the smallest bit, nods, “It was delightful to take in the scenery of your kingdom your majesty. It truly is the city of gold. However, if I may, you do not refer to me by that title. Lewis will do.” 

Arthur’s throat tightened, nodding a bit too quickly, “Lewis, of course. Please call me Arthur.” He takes a step forward and holds out his hand, suddenly overly aware of his actions when several eyes pin to his back, both from his side and Lewis’s. 

One must never knowingly take the hands of a caster, for they may be able to grab your soul through your hand and make you their servant. The lesson repeats in his head seven times before he noticed Lewis tilting his head, amused. 

“My, I didn’t take you for someone so trusting,” Lewis says, thoughtfully watching him and- to much of the horror of everyone else- takes Arthur’s hand firmly, “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure to help you, your highness. I will not fail you.”

As the King, Prince, and Witch spoke to one another, the tense and active air growing more screwed up and yet relaxed with the easy conversation. Neither the king nor Arthur paying the frightful bunches any mind. 

Madam Chloe feels a presence beside her, and eyes boring into her. Whether or not Duet wanted to speak to her, she didn’t turn her head to him. Keeping her hands clasped together and her eyes trained on every movement the prince made. 

Finally, a low whisper, “Do they seem untrustworthy to you, Madam Chloe?”

“No,” she admits, swallowing her tongue back, her fists tighten, “no, the chances of him doing anything is slim. I promise.” Nothing emitted from the man to show otherwise. No malice, no hatred, and all metallic clinks and trinkets within his robes weren’t the angry and swift voice of fallen victims, but instead a smooth, calming voice of a healer. And yet, her stomach twists and folds into knots, and Duet seemed to notice. If they were the only ones present, there’s a chance they would have placed a hand on her shoulder. Her mouth burned, but she kept her teeth ground shut. 

Duet must have heard it too, because they turn to her and watch her twitchy movements. They sigh, and turn to the King and Prince. “Your majesty, your highness.” The two turn back to him, King Lance’s expression unreadably gruff and Prince Arthur’s so obviously panicked. From behind them, Reverend Pepper leaned forward with interest- as well as everyone else. Duet continues on, “Madam Chloe and I need a moment to discuss some important matters. With your permission, may we take our leave?” 

King Lance stares at them fixedly, appearing uncaring for a single moment until it occurs to Madam Chloe just how much he seemed to debate that thought in his head. A glint being her only hint, and the rest being the grueling sensation of his aura. Tearing into her like paper. 

Do not lash out. She reminds herself, hiding her twisting fists out of sight. Only able to hope that he wouldn’t suspect anything from the two. 

“Granted,” The king says, snapping Chloe out of her spur and her eyes widen a fraction before she reminds herself to stay calm, unwavering. “Take one of the Dames or Knights with you.” 

Duet holds up a hand, “Your majesty, that wouldn’t be necessary-” 

“Take one with you. For security measures.” King Lance repeats, and this time they both knew that defying him further would end up with them in their deathbeds. Bowing their head, Duet nods.

“Of course, your Majesty. Please forgive my ignorance.” 

Chloe lifts her head more, tearing her gaze away from the king, and landing on the prince. Arthur. Who stared at her, with so much fear hidden in his eyes, fear and terror. 

I’m sorry, Arthur. 

A knight walks up to them, “Shall we be on our way?” he asks, and Chloe doesn’t respond, allowing her eyes to downcast, guilt welling up in her throat like glue. 

“Of course.” 

__

A woman was shackled to the wall. Her feet shackles as well. Her head hung low, and she didn’t move much besides for her gentle breathing- attempting to not breathe in too harshly and activate her sinuses. These dungeons were far too dirty to have breathable air. A harsh stench of a decaying body reached her nose, as well as the freely spoken words of the guards and knights of who to alert. 

”We failed to keep this one alive, what should we explain to the Captain?”

”Explain that it was the magician. It appears they casted a spell on themselves to ease them into Death’s embrace.”

The first knight scoffs, or laughs, she couldn’t tell. ”A coward’s way out, I tell you. Can’t even die with dignity.”

She cared to disagree, searching through the murky depths of her own vision to take in her own clothes. Stained with blood, powder, and losing the glow of protection she casted onto herself. Soon, she’s going to become hungry, and shrivel up in pain, wishing for anything to eat. If the Hidorian kingdom was like any other. They would leave her to starve. Or, perhaps keep her hanging onto life for as long as possible, to get answers, to show her origin, to- 

Heavy clicks fills her ears, and the knights who were posted fell silent. The scrap of metal gliding against metal alluding to the possibility that they were bowing in respect. ”Advisor Duet, It is a pleasure to see you here.”

”As well as to you. I have heard reports of a new magician dressed in green being locked away in here. May I see her?” Her blond hair falls in front of her eyes as she peers down to her stained clothes- meant to blend in with the nature around her. How could they possibly think it’s strictly green?

”Y-yes! Fo-forgive us for the conditions of her cellar, we-.. We didn’t have enough room to hold her in a prope-”

”There is no need to explain to me, I know that it isn’t customary to bring prisoners to proper rooms when one had just perished. Besides, she is in need of cleansing and washing, isn’t she?”

 The knights are silent for a second, ”Y-yes, she is still covered in… magic. D-Duet! Shall we accompany you? To ensure she doesn’t pull a nasty trick-”

A laugh, low and gentle, ”That will not be necessary. Her cellar is close, am I wrong? You do not need to follow after me then. At the very least, feel free to escort me to her. I do not want to keep her waiting.” The smug tone only brought a look of a shriveled man with a snarky grin across their face. She could spit. Spit in their face for all she cared.

”Of course, Duet. We will be you to her right now.” Her arms and muscles stiffen, clenching her eyes shut, she takes a deep breath- despite the rot filling her lungs- and holds it. Steeling herself for anything. 

”Glorious.”

Three sets of footsteps, one considerably softer than the others, traverse the dim and dirty halls to her cellar. Sure enough, three silhouettes appear in front of the bars. She didn’t lift her head. Able to feel their gaze on her, locking her in place. 

“You two may disperse now. I will handle all proceedings coming forth.” The smug voice, low and nasally, ripples through the cellar just in time for one of the grated doors to open. Much to the displeasure of the two knights, but she can imagine that Duet simply waved them off, because in the next few minutes, the two knights leave. All that was left was Duet, herself, and the dingy cellar. The chains holding her grind together awkwardly. 

For a second, there’s only silence. 

“Well, hello there, young lady. Or would you rather I refer to you differently?” 

Her jaw clenches and tightens, lungs feeling full, tight, ready to burst, and without her own input, she’s looking up at them. Cheeks full of air that squeezed past her lips. They quirk an eyebrow, twisting their head. 

Despite the darkness shrouding them both, it was clear they were smiling- but if it was for contentness or asserting, she couldn’t tell. “I wonder what you’re doing that for? Mind to release your breath and explain it to me. I’m eager to learn.” 

She doesn’t. Chest tight and instead sucking in more breath. 

“Ah, I see. You don’t want to speak to me, do you?”

Her wrists pull, blood pumping. 

Their smile drops, and they nod solemnly, “Understood. Well, I will make my case quickly for you then. If you wish to ask for clarification, I would advise you to open your mouth, or show the feistiness you possessed earlier during your capture.” 

Shit, that’s right, it dawns onto her again, and her eyebrows furrowing together from discomfort. She had been screaming earlier, as dames and guards overwhelm her, pin her to the ground in the library. Snatching her tools and forcing her into submission. All in front of the Prince she was trying so hard to take down. It wasn’t her fault-! Him becoming king would result in the end of the world-! No one would allow that- Duet takes a step forward, eyes training into hers, and in retaliation she squeezes them shut. 

“Rest assured, I have done everything in my power to find a way to ensure your safety, young lady. However, the king is far more stubborn than you are, and he doesn’t typically take much mercy to magicians and sorcerers such as yourself.” Duet hums a bit to themself, “As you can perhaps imagine why. The use of magic to manipulate the supernatural is a skill that is feared by many, especially since magic never fails. You understand why the use of magic is highly regulated and in some cases, entirely outlawed, correct?” 

They wait for a few seconds, their smiles returning, “It’s because a magician, such as yourself, assassinated the rulers of various empires and kingdoms around us. Including our previous ruler, who single handedly brought our kingdom to its golden age. Your presence, your assassination of our prince, is nothing but proof that those laws are neceassary.” 

She knew, she’s always known. FIguring out magic was hard enough as it is, but with the restrictions, its only more demanding of its user. Her lungs started to burn.

“You are to be executed by dawn, do you know that?” 

It slams into her, like a brick. Any remnant of calm shatters like glass and she gasps. Choking, sputtering, gasping for air as her head spins. Executed? Why- Duet takes a step back to dodge the spit flying from her mouth. 

“For attempted assassination of our next ruler. Surely, you would have understood that when you came into our kingdoms’ courts and violated our most sacred rules.” The smugness returned, she was in his court, and as far as she knew, there was little she could do. She peers up at him, desperation lacing her oxygen deprived brain, begging. She couldn’t tell if Duet was pitying her at that moment. “But, this isn’t the first time a magic user has entered our kingdom. And you will quickly learn that it is due to myself that they’re still here.”

What..? 

“We have a Dame who is quite famous for her work, and I know that she uses magic. It is in her blood, able to summon and borrow power from a god among animals that has sworn itself to her family. It took a long while to convince the King to allow her, but because of her good image, her new found status, it was easier to convince him to allow you a chance.”

She blinks up at him, confused, and mouth hanging agape with questions and worries she couldn’t begin to fathom. 

“The prince is quite nervous, and is in need of a priest to help him rest his worries, and figure out how to live his life with a hex plaguing him. I figured, who would be better to help him than a magician turned priestess.”

“A … a priestess..? Me…?”

“Of course. Living a life of celibacy, honor and honesty. All in exchange for not perishing tomorrow. How does that sound?” 

“F… fuck you!” She spits, grinding her teeth as rage fills her skin and boils out of her ears, surely her expression was akin to death itself, but Duet seemed entirely unphased. “I won’t do shit for you! I’d rather watch this kingdom burn to the ground with every monster in it-!” Her voice fell silent. She blinks, eyebrows furrowing as her mouth hangs open, starting to move but nothing coming out. A painful, stretched feeling overtaking her vocal chords and leaving her throat raw and strained. She tried to scream, but it only worsened the pain. 

“I wouldn’t recommend you continue, miss,” Duet says, his tone harsh and cold, uncaring, “regardless if you live for another century under the oaths of a god or die at a cross made of bones, the only tongue you will speak is truth.” Each word felt like a knife, slicing into her slowly, forcing her body to still and numb, “Only one secret will die with you, the secret of this spell, and your inability to resist the burn of hidden words on your tongue. It’ll feel much more like a hot coal in your teeth the longer you hold it back.” 

Her body shivers, crying out as her voice suddenly comes back, stinging tears falling from her eyes as her body sags and her mouth starts to burn. 

“Now,” Duet says silently, “why don’t you start with your name?”

Her stomach and arms lurch, heart pounding and nearly jumping out of her chest, up her throat and onto the floor. Before she trembles, and letters connect and fall out before she can stop them- try to.

“Ch-chloe..” 

“Madam Chloe,” Duet watches her knowingly, noticing how her arms shook and the way her jaw clenches and almost smiling. God she could rip that fucking face off of their skull if she could. Chloe’s mind screams, fists tighter than ever before. Her body has never contained so much anger, hatred, and regret than it has right now. Before being captured she could scream and fight her heart out, but priesthood was a very different ballgame. And it’s one that is filled with bitterness and fury beyond anyone’s comprehension. Even more so now that her lungs are filled with ash and the ember of a tongue has grown worse. 

But a secret isn’t a secret when it’s given to her. 

“Prince Arthur has fallen in love.” 

“Your highness,” Lewis’s voice finds him through the swarming ocean of madness and confusion, bringing his mind back to the candle lit room, and to the heavy chain around his neck. The weight of it pulling his neck down, and reminding him of how small he felt in the circle. Arthur opens his eyes to confirm if he was still there. Maybe to see if his daydream was real. 

Of course it wasn’t real. Arthurs brain reminds him, staring down at the chalk covering the floor around him, the blood red glow of the candles casting hard shadows everywhere, Lewis isn’t here to help you escape, Arthur. He’s here to cure you. Why would you even think that up in the first place? His shoulders tense up like his stomach- soured and sucked in so much it was painful, and he swallows back harshly, shooing away the wishes clouding his head more and more. 

Arthur clenches his eyes shut and allows the resulting thunder of his muscles attempt at clearing his thoughts. And when the lingering whispers of hope refused to stop, his logic bellowed. He wouldn’t ever ride away on a horse, clutching the hand of his dame and- and certainly not following the lead of this kind and gentle Witch. The grassy plains and the warm sky was nothing but a fantasy that he desperately wished to crawl away in. Maybe if he prayed hard enough, Lewis would hear and grant his worries and pull him out of that depraved room and from those begging eyes. He didn’t need to look to see those sharp gazes boring into him. Hell, Arthurs surprised he doesn’t have scars from the piercing stares- they nearly burned into his skin!

A throat clears, “Your highness,” and Arthur’s attention snaps up to Lewis, who somehow still looked peaceful even with the deranged lighting. He smiles warmly, taking Arthurs left hand- which was a trembling, shaking fist- and slowly painting on the symbols against the top. The coldness of the paint made him flinch. Lewis didn’t say anything, “You seem more nervous than before, is this bothering you?” 

“Y-you could say that.” Arthur mumbles, glaring at the hand in Lewis’s grasp and trying to will it to stop shaking as much as it did, but his words only seemed to worsen it. Much to his surprise, Lewis gently begins to massage his palm and wrist, and Arthur’s heart jumps into his throat. 

“It is understandable, Arthur.” Lewis murmurs, words already beginning to soothe him, “These types of procedures do bring out the worst of the imagination.” His eyes flicker up, a small grin dancing on his lips- or was it the light? Arthur blinks rapidly but before he could try and look and check, Lewis was done, and shuffling back to his original spot.

His heart raced, whatever it was. Arthur couldn’t even begin to wonder why the smallest look was sending his brain spiralling. Control yourself, Lewis is just- just trying to comfort you! Nothing more!

Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Just-just keep reminding yourself of that, okay? Okay.

As soon as he was back in his proper place, Lewis sat up straight and nodded to his right. There was two persons there sat behind two large drums, and upon his signal, they slammed their mallets against it. It’s beat so loud, Arthur could feel it in every part of his body. His mind going numb, and Lewis began to explain,=.

“Tonight, I will draw this curse out from your body and into the amulet you bare now.” His voice was different, commanding, fierce, “Whatever demon is held in your soul, Arthur Kingsmen, it will be gone by dawn’s end.”

[psychicrunawaybouquet-aus]

Hey guys, so like once a year I write something Spideychelle. Be warned I don’t proof read. This also happens to be a tacky combination of angst and fluff. Enjoy.

Even after all this time, she still frantically checked the news every night, she still followed Spider-Man alerts, she still turned up the radio at the mention of his name she still wore her webbed spider necklace every day without fail. Eventually she had begun to wonder if it was worth it. She had left him to escape Spider-Man, and yet she everywhere she looked, he was there. She still loved him, she still loved Spider-Man and there was nothing she could do to escape it. Her 3 month hiatus in Europe only reminded her of when they were young, when they first fell in love. Her 6 months spent completely dedicated to work and nothing else only served as a distraction. But by the time she had accepted that worrying about Spider-Man and being with peter was better then worrying about Spider-Man and being without peter, it was too late. There was a girl, apparently her name was Gwen, she was small and feminine and delicate and According to Ned she was a teacher that volunteered her spare time saving obscure African animals. Gwen it seemed, was everything MJ could never truly be for Peter.

So she moved on. She dated sporadically but it was mostly empty. And then one night her phone rang, it’s insistent buzzing waking her from sleep abruptly. She didn’t even check the caller Id she just sleepily answered. ‘What is it?’ She demanded weakly her voice clouded with sleep.

There was an extremely small, anxious breath that immediately caused MJ’s nervous system to kick into gear. ‘Mj, something happened.’ It was the voice of Ned Leeds, but it sounded broken, concerned afraid. ‘What happened?’ She heard herself say her heart in her throat. ‘It’s Peter... he, it was bad MJ. It’s bad.’

‘Tell me straight Leeds.’ She heard herself say in a harsh cold manner.

‘They don’t think he is going to make it.’ MJ nearly dropped her phone but she forced herself to listen to the other end of the line. ‘I thought you might want to be here. In case...’ Ned’s voice broke before he paused and continued. ‘There is a car on the way. We’re upstate, it’s ugh. It’s up to you.’

She couldn’t find her voice, all she could hear was vacant ringing of blood rushing in her ears. She was shaking, she was sure that she was going to throw up. But she needed to go. ‘I’ll be there.’ Was all she said before hanging up.

....

The upstate facility was much the same as she had remembered it. Cold, commercial, an echo of heroes that had sacrificed their lives. Peter couldn’t join the dead. Not yet. He was too full of life, too good too... she couldn’t go any further. Yet her feet kept moving as she was guided through the concrete hallways until eventually she was met with a small waiting area occupied by a pale looking May Parker, a puffy eyed Ned Leeds and a small terrified looking blonde who she knew to be Gwen Stacey.

Suddenly MJ felt awkward, out of place. She had no right to be here. She shouldn’t have come. But before she could consider her mistake much further May was striding towards her pulling her into a crushing hug. She let her arms hold May, she tried to be as strong as she could for a woman who has lost so much. May released the embrace allowing Ned to pull MJ into a crushing hug. ‘He’s still here. Thanks for coming.’ Ned whispered to her.

Thanks for coming. The words rang around her mind over and over again as she gently smiled at Gwen and took a seat in the small room. It could have been hours or minutes of silence before the doctor emerged. She heard him say that Peter was in an induced coma, that they didn’t know if he would come out or even make it through the night. That he may be able to hear them, that they should say their goodbyes just in case...’

Gwen and May both burst into tears and Ned’s head simply hangs low. But MJ bites the inside of her mouth. She has no right to cry. She let him go for this exact reason, she let him go to protect herself. She will kill him herself before she lets him die like this.

So they all go in, one by one and utter their private goodbyes to Peter Parker, and MJ, she goes last. She didn’t even want to go in at all but May gives her this strange look of understanding. She seems to say if you don’t say goodbye you will regret it.

So she walks in the room with beeping machines and flashing instruments and as soon as the door closes she sinks to her knees and feels her body rack with sobs. Peter looks so fragile in the bed. He’s bruised and sallow and it takes her 3 whole minutes before she can will herself to stand up and approach him.

But when she does, she takes a seat at his side and brushes the back of his hand with her fingers selfishly. He isn’t hers. But she allows herself to imagine that he is. She allows herself to feel the love she has been denying herself for two years and the emotions are unbearable within her own body.

‘Peter.’ She murmurs likely to no one. She isn’t sure if he is there anymore but she tries anyway. ‘I’m so sorry. You’re so bloody stupid but so aM I’ She took a shaky breath before she moved closer to him on the bed, clasping his still but warm hand. ‘I still love you so much.’ She admitted. ‘ I’ve loved you everyday since I was fourteen and I don’t want to know a world that doesn’t have you in it.’ Her body collapsed on itself until she was resting her forehead against his. ‘Please Peter, I love you.’

But he didn’t move, he didn’t answer, she didn’t really expect him too. But the fear and disappointment in seeing his eyes still closed, his face still vacant. It was horrifying. So she turned around and walked away, briskly wiping her eyes before she left the room.

....

They waited all night. Gwen falling in and out sleep in her chair. May patting her hand gently. Ned tapping his leg. MJ sat by herself digging her nails into her palms to keep herself from crumbling. Until she found herself getting up and walking towards the kitchen. She made an espresso and downed it, splashing water in her face to keep herself alert.

‘MJ.’ May called. ‘He’s brainwaves have changed, they think he’s waking up.’

She and May ran the way back to Peter’s room halting abruptly outside of it. Waiting for the doctors inside to pass on information.

May held her hand so tight, they were crushing each other. MJ felt as though her breath had stopped all together and that her heart was going to beat so hard it would escape her chest.

Eventually the doctor emerges. He leads with ‘Mr. Parker appears to be waking up we think it’s because of ....’ MJ only hears that he is waking up. She immediately wonders if he would be ok, if he would be safe and she was over whelmed with her thoughts. He isn’t hers. She reminds herself. So she recesses to the corner of the waiting room. They only let May in Peters room anyway.

Pepper Potts offers to let them stay. They all agree and MJ begins to realise that she has probably over stayed her welcome. But she can’t leave until she knows that he is ok. A shower does her good, and as she sits in the bland waiting room again, the waiting seeming to never end, she finds herself alone with Gwen. May was still locked in Peters room, Ned had gone to rest, so here they were.

‘Hi MJ.’ Gwen said in a sweet but tired tone. ‘I’m Gwen.’

‘Hi Gwen.’ MJ said softly. ‘I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.’

Gwen offers her a sad half smile. But changed the topic speaking suddenly she said. ‘I didn’t know about Spider-Man. I mean, I didn’t know that he was... is Spider-Man. It’s a lot to process.’

MJ felt a wave of empathy for the blonde opposite her. She knew exactly how she felt. But to learn Peters identity and nearly loose him all in one day. Well that must have been a lot.

‘I’m sorry.’ MJ says stiffly. ‘That must be very overwhelming for you.’ She has never been a particularly motherly or caring woman, especially in the company of strangers, but she tried to make her voice sounds genuine.

Gwen leans forward in her seat. Her face open and vulnerable. ‘Peter always spoke so highly of you MJ, I can see why.’ She paused before she continued. ‘Did he ever.. did he tell you the truth?’

And MJ knows what she is asking, she wants to know if Peter trusted MJ and not her. Part of MJ wants to bask in the knowledge that that part of Peter was just for her, that their relationship was special but she suppresses it.

‘No he didn’t. I knew but only because I figured it out back in high school, before he and I even...’ She cuts herself off, there was no need to go down that road.

‘Well I feel stupid now.’ Gwen chuckled.

‘No dont.’ MJ said quickly. ‘He used to be terrible at hiding it. But to be honest I think If he had of been able to keep it from me he would have, he always wants to protect the people closest to him. He wouldn’t have wanted to lie to you, he’s just stupid and would have done it to protect you or whatever.’

‘I don’t feel very protected now.’ Gwen said looking down at the floor. ‘I feel like maybe what I thought we had wasn’t even there at all.’

......

Peter officially woke up at 1:30 pm 30 hours after his accident. May had wiped the blood off of his face and the doctors had run some preliminary tests. He appeared to have no brain damage, no memory loss, no permanent injuries that wouldn’t heal with time. All thanks to that spider bite.

MJ was ready to leave, safe in the knowledge that he would be ok. But then apparently he had asked to see Ned and Gwen and apparently her as well. So once again she went last. And as she entered she felt a strange mix of immense relief to see Peters eyelids blinking, his arm moving his chest rising and falling as well as intense fear. After two years of silence what could she say to him? After her emotional admission on his death bed how could she look at him?

‘Hey MJ.’ Peter said weakly. ‘Hey dork.’ She said taking a seat next to him, forcing herself to look into his lively youthful eyes. ‘Sorry I scared everyone’ he said his voice rough from swelling and fatigue. ‘It’s good to see you.’ He added.

‘It’s not good to see you. Not like this.’ She saw his hand move, as though he was gesturing for her to hold it, she slowly and hesitantly slid her hand into his. His warm skin immediately sending an electronic pulse up her arm. It still felt so right. His hands still felt the same.

‘MJ’ he coughed out. ‘I think I had a dream about you. When I was out.’

She smiled at him. ‘What happened in the dream?’ She said it so kindly, so genuinely. He made her so sappy she hated it.

He gave her a weak smile. ‘You were just here. Now I think maybe it wasn’t a dream.’

He doesn’t say it out loud, but she knows what he means. He heard her. He had heard everything she said. He felt her presence and there was no getting around it.

‘I won’t be staying much longer Peter.’ She forced herself to say. ‘I need to go home, and you belong with May and Ned and Gwen.’

‘I still love you MJ. I know it’s not fair to say, not fair for Gwen and not fair for you. I know this was the reason you didn’t want to be with me. But I nearly died, and I can’t live another day with out telling you. I tried to stop loving you MJ but I just can’t.’ He looks so earnest as he speaks, even though his swollen features she can see how soft he is, how much he wants her to understand.

She feels tears well in her eyes. And it takes a while to find her voice. But eventually she speaks. ‘We can’t do this now Peter. But thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should never have.’ But she can’t continue. Yet again her voice is caught in her throat. He’s with Gwen, no matter what they feel, it’s all done now.

‘I love you Peter.’ She said gently as she squeezed his hand. His eyes shon with tears as she said it. ‘I hope you get better soon.’ She gently pulled her hand away from him and as she left the room she didn’t look back at him.

.....

So she went home, went back to her life and months past until, on a quiet Sunday afternoon there was a knock at her door. She swung it open forcefully, fully expecting her Uber eats delivery but instead she was met with the face of Peter Parker.

‘Hi MJ.’ He said, his voice uncomfortably high pitched and shaded in awkwardness. ‘Umm hi dork.’ She said, blinking at him.

‘Can I come in?’ He asked. She just moved out of the doorway in reply allowing him to pass.

‘Nice place’ he said. It wasn’t, she was a single income earner in New York, it was a shoe box. ‘Thanks.’ She muttered anyway.

There was a beat of intense awkward silence in which she couldn’t look at him but he only seemed to be able to look at her. Eventually she met his eye, and they both moved to talk, their words stumbling over each other.

‘You go first.’ They both said together. Causing the two of them to break into laughter in MJ’s tiny apartment.

‘Actually I will go first’ Peter interrupted before she could speak.

‘Wow ok then.’ She said, dead pan. ‘come into my house and demand to speak first.’

But he was used to her taunting by now and apparently he couldn’t be deterred. so he ignored it, stepping closer to her he opened his mouth and began to explain himself.

‘I broke up with Gwen.’ He said abruptly. ‘Or she broke up with me, I’m not clear on that still but the point is, we broke up. Four months ago’ he added on the end.

‘Oh.’ Was all MJ could manage in response, she wasn’t exactly sure how to comfort her estranged ex boyfriend on his more recent breakup so she just kind of patted his shoulder and murmured ‘sorry bout that.’

Peter smiled at her. Completely smiled, his whole face erupting with happiness. ‘What?’ She questioned, taken aback by his lively expression and odd reaction. ‘MJ.’ He spoke her name like it was everything like she meant everything, at least to him. He sniffed before he continued ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t do this to you, but I have to try.’ He pauses again and finally looked away from her, taking a deep breath as though building up the courage to say something profound.

And suddenly she knows why he is here. He loves her still. She is sure of it, she can feel it radiating from his entire being. But she is afraid to hear it. She winces in preparation and finally he says ‘MJ, I love you. I want to be with you.’

She wishes that she was stronger, she wishes that she could turn him down and let him live out his heroic saviour complex by himself. But she just can’t. No matter how strong she was in every other aspect of her life, Peter was always her weakness.

‘I can’t promise not to be Spider-Man.’ He added. Taking her hand, his physical contact further obscuring her better judgment. ‘But I can promise to be more careful, to spend less time in the suit. To make sure I put you and our safety first. I want to compromise MJ, I can’t live with out you. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.’

She moved closer to him and before she could stop herself she had pulled him into a crushing hug. She burried her face in his neck and relished in the feeling of him. So familiar, so solid, so peter. ‘I though you were going to die.’ She admitted as her body racked with tears. She hadn’t cried over it yet, and the intense emotion founded on years of build up was ready to explode.

‘I know. I know.’ He cooed. ‘I’m so sorry MJ.’

.....

They talked all night. They held each other all night. And the truth is, that life was never easy for them, but at the end of the day, they had each other, and it’s all they ever really wanted.

[fan-dumb-trash]

REMILE PART TWOOOOOOOOO

Part One! Part Three! Part Four

*confetti canon* YASSSS FINALLYYYY I HAVE FINISHED THIS!

Sorry for the wait! And also sorry if this isn’t as good as the first one... but I needed to establish some things in order to make Remiles relationship make sense ya know? I’m planning on making at least one, maybe more of these so buckle up sis! Thank you guys for your reblogs and comments and stuff it’s really sweet XD I’m glad to provide some decent Remile content.

Now without further ado, lets get the gay going!

Warnings: Unhealthy Household mention, Kissing, Crying. Violence mention- or lack theorf. Some self deprecation in Remys part. If I missed anything let me know!

Kay so we left off with the boys at the start of their sophomore year oh yeah boi.

I forgot to tell you everyone's ages so HERE WE GO

Patton and Roman are juniors now and Virgil Logan Emile and Remy are the same age. Sloane and Corbin are seniors and Kai and Elliot are freshmen.

Remy has accumulated a girlfriend named Clarimonde whos a badass and we love her she's really cool actually. Her and Roman have spanish together and they are both fluent so they chat to their teachers delight

Once her and Patton saw Elliot getting bullied and she scared the living heck out of those neanderthals without punching and Patton was impressed

Everyone likes her- so Emilie tells himself he has no reason to dislike her because he doesn't have feelings for Remy anymore. No sir.

Now it isn't difficult for Remy and Emile to pass each other in the halls. When Clarimonde chats with Roman, Emile can make small talk Remy without dying inside, but he's slightly more quiet.

Remy still doesn't understand the pang he gets in his chest whenever someone mentions cartoons.

Clarimonde starts to pay attention the Emile because “hey he seems like a sweetheart! how did you meet him Rem?”

Remy tells her that they were close in middle school and left it at that. She stayed suspicious but dropped it after two days.

As I mentioned before, Emilie is a total mom friend even to the seniors and juniors. He notices Logan perk up whent Patton makes a dad joke or laughs. He notices Patton stare a bit too much at Logan's subtle freckles or his electric blue eyes as he rants about biology and chemistry.

He notices Roman and Virgil warm up to each other finally (they didn’t get along much. Romans a bit of an airhead and said some not nice things to Virgil in middle school)

They find out they actually have common interests! They talk about music and writing amd smile because someone finally understands!!! Wow!!!

Emilie promises himself he's going to try to help his friends be happy together. because he feels a bit better when he sees his friends happy in love. And in good mental health (which leads into his counseling career!!! Wohooo!!!)

AND NOW- INTRODUCINGGGGG *drum roll* MR THOMAS SANDERS *confetti cannon* and his assistants Joan and Talyn who are lit college students trying to get degrees in the arts. they need to community service so (plus they love Thomas and the kids like aww their babies)

Thomas is the theater teacher/director of the arts department. Roman took all the theater classes available because he’s an extra boi. so he hung out in Mr Sanders class and soon it became the hangout spot for the gang!

Emile saw Roman and Patton in the school play last year. Most of the cast were seniors and now all the thespians are gone and nobody wants to do the shows and take the classes (minus the loot of kids who need their arts requirement to graduate) and it's a PROBLEM

Remy takes Mr Sanders drama class for the arts requirement in order to graduate! But he has a D… Honestly he thought the class would be easier than ceramics because he could just doze off as Thomas rambled about shakespeare but NOPE they have to do pair scenes and monologues and Remy IS NOT HAVING IT LET ME TELL YAH

He thinks acting is stupid (ironic because his personality at school is mostly to mask his pain so TEA) and that there's no point in trying.

this attitude carries over to a lot of his other classes because it's not like his family can afford sending him off to college anyways and it's not like he's smart or worth teaching anyways right?

And Thomas notices Remy walk home alone and take off his shades and stare at the sky a bit longer than usual. Thomas sees Remy's smile fade as people talk about their parents and siblings and he sees Remy's grades slip.

Thomas pulls Remy says something like “Sup Mr Sanders. Did somebody fail their test because they spent the class period staring at me instead of their answer sheet?” And Thomas would usually laugh at this but he's stern

“I'm going to give it to you straight. You're failing almost all your classes and i've talked to your teachers and they know you have potential but you don't try. I don't understand why, but i'm sure you have your reasons but i just wanted to tell you… You're enough, Remy. Just being you. Just because you dont think youll be perfect or good enough doesn't mean you have to turn you back on the world. There's people who will care if you let them in and-”

Remy begins to cry because nobody has told him that in a year and a half. And Thomas gives him tissues and pats him on the shoulder.

Remy agrees to participate in the after school show for extra credit to raise his grade. The credits will carry over to the monologue and pair scene he did poorly on and count for the history of plays unit test which he bombed.

Remy is grateful, but asks how all those assignments fit in on play if he's just gonna do tec??? Or say a shakespearean monologue and be done.

Thomas smiles and says “Well Remy, we are doing Rent- a musical. And Joan and Talyn handle the tec stuff just fine.”

AND BOOM THEY'RE DOING RENT NOW I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ACKKKKKKKKK SO THEY AUDITION! THE GANG AND REMY AND CLARIMONDE AND TOBY AND ITS WONDERFUL

Patton convinces Logan to do the show (puppy dog eyes owo) and it's all set. Clarimonde joins because why not. Emilie was hesitant at first- but Dot and Larry told him it would be a good way to break out of his shell because Emilie is a bit awkward around people he doesn’t know well…

Auditions go good! Virgil, Roman, Elliot, and Emilie are the best singers while Clarimonde,Remy, Logan, and Patton are dorky/sassy/and confident actors.

Thomas had them all sing Seasons Of Love and then he just puts them in scenes with each other as characters he wanted to see them as! After the first round he moved people around accordingly. It’s an unorthodox way of doing things but it’s such a smol group it wasn’t a hassle to do.

Remy and Emile weren’t really considered for any of the leads because Thomas wasn’t sure of their acting ability… so just to give them something to do, he had them do dialogue when Angel and Collins first meet! Remy is Angel and Emile is Collins cause why not!

For those of you who don’t know much about Rent, basically what happens in that scene is that Collins gets mugged and beat up and he’s bleeding in an alleyway and then Angel finds him and they talk a bit.

Of course it was awkward at first because why wouldn’t it be… but Remy said “You know Em, this is just a giant case of Deja Vu… remember when I found you in the field after you gots scraped up from climbing up that tree? Your glasses were broken and everythin’. And you wanted to act all tough but you were crying and I didn’t know what to do-“ and Emile laughed because yes, he remembers. They got ice cream after and it was one of the best days of his childhood.

And it gets better from there. And it’s like they get to meet again for the first time- but Emile is the broken one and Remy is lending a hand. They have really good chemistry and the scene is actually really genuine!

They do the scene for Thomas and he’s intrigued! He writes notes with a small smile on his face.

But the spell is broken after that for a while...

but when the cast list is posted there's some issues cause uhm

Mimi is Roman- Rodger is Virgil

Mark is Patton, and Benny is Logan

Joanne is Elliot and Maureen is Clarimonde!

BUT THE TEA IS THE CASTING CHOICE OF EMILIE PLAYING COLLINS AND REMY PLAYING ANGEL!!! Romans a little salty because he wanted to be a cool drag queen who played drums but he got over it.

BUT SWEET REMY DIDN'T GOOGLE THE SYNOPSIS BEFORE HE AUDITIONED! BUT WHEN HE DID HE THE NIGHT AFTER, HE REALIZED HE DIGS ANGEL LIKE HELL YEAH HE’LL DO THAT SHIT IN A HEARTBEAT BUT EMILIE IS HIS BOYFRIEND?????

Same issue for Roman and Virgil because I have to be in love with my crush/ex enemy? Oh nooooooooooo.

The whole situation is wild and I love it.

But yeah that’s how the fake dating and stage kids element come into play if you were here from the VERY VERY beginning when I was bored out of my mind and made some weird prompts for people to choose.

BUT YEAH ROMAN AND EMILE ARE FREAKING OUT BECAUSE.OLD FEELINGS ARE RESURFACING AND THEY ARE TEMPTED TO MARCH UP TO THOMAS AND DEMAND HE EXPLAIN WHY HE DID THIS BUT THEY DON'T AND POOR PATTON HAS TO CALM TWO ANXIOUS BOYS AND VIRGIL IS HAPPY BECAUSE HE WANTED RODGER BUT LIKE NOW SHITS GETTING GAY AND HE DOESN'T KNOW IF HIS CRUSH ON ROMAN IS GONNA START GETTING OBVIOUS OR NOT AND LOGAN DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DOOOOO

Patton and Logan start to talk even more to help their bffs Roman and Virgil get their shit together and then Patton and Logan start to get close in the process and it's amazing.

But rehearsal happens and Emile and Remy are really awkward at first. And Emilie wants to slap Remy because weren’t they They don't talk about the abrupt and unexplained ending of their friendship and Emile doesn't explain how Remy broke his heart. But the eyes are the window to the soul and they both know there's words that need to be said that aren't being said…

But communication? In my christian household? Neverrrrrrrrrr

So it continues. And life goes on.

Virgil and Roman start dating because when Virgil was over at Romans house “rehearsing lines”, Roman got a bit too close when he sang “oh won't you light my candle~” and whoops know they're making out

Oh well life happens i guess

But back to Remile. It's about 2 weeks into rehearsal and they're starting blocking of Act 1 and it's going as one expects. Smooth and Rocky and back and forth and SLOW.

Most people are fitting into their roles pretty normally except for two people- you can guess who.

For the life of them, Remy and Emile can't get it together. Remy can dance and sing like nobody's business and he's been practicing in heels and it literally is giving Emilie a heart attack cause HOT DAMN IM GAY AS FUCK BUT I GOTTA KEEP IT TOGETHER REEEEE

But the second Remy makes eye contact with Emile he drops character. Emile is chill and fun like Collins. His scenes with Patton and Virgil? Gold. The second Angel comes on stage he gets more tense.

And Thomas doesnt say anything because its not the end of the first month but he notes it.

Emile is obviously upset. It’s kinda draining him being dragged around emotionally by Remy and Patton Roman and Dot and Larry are starting to get worried… it’s like the mental state he had in the summer is coming back and he’s closing himself off.

Clarimonde notices these things too because she’s not stupid… she asks Roman about it during Spanish. He says it isn’t his place because he knows Emilie's Side of the story- but not Remy's. and he doesn’t want to say anything he isn’t supposed to.

His answer gives Clarimonde all the clarification she needs because obviously Roman knows something big and it has to be that Emilie had feelings for Remy at some point and Remy cut their friendship and broke his heart.

But she doesn’t know what to do so she keeps her relationship with Remy because it’s not like he likes Emilie back. Right?

But deep down she knows he’s just scared of commitment because he never wants to go to her house and meet her parents. She barely knows anything about Remy's family or hopes and dreams. But what can she do but wait for him to open up? But he never does. And it nags at her.

I realize that I haven’t really talked to much about Remy… So here we go.

It’s complicated. Remy got scared. Of trusting one person so much that it could hurt him. Divorces can jack kids up especially if they go down ugly like it did for Remy's parents. He didn’t really believe in love. He didn’t believe in trust that didn’t come without a price.

But he forgot those worries when he was with Emile years before. He felt loved and cared for and he felt he could be himself.

But over the summer when Emile and Remy stopped hanging out… it’s because things got worse. Remy's mom started to blame the divorce on him. She said her father left because she couldn’t handle Remy and his lil brother Ethan who screamed and cried all the time. She started to go out for long points of time and come home with bloodshot eyes. She would scream at tell Remy that love never lasted and he needed to grow up and stop crying cause his dad never called.

And Remy was beside himself.Because seeing Emile just reminded him of all the stuff he couldn’t have. The carefree normal life he would never have.

So Remy threw up his walls and stopped talking to Emile. He shoved down his guilt and left him alone because Remy felt he didn’t need Emile or his warm light.

Remy wanted to grow up so he wouldn’t feel this pain and yearning for a childhood he’d never receive.

And that’s why he and Emile stopped being friends. That’s why Remy is fake.

Remy can’t pinpoint when it happened… but

as Angel he can be confident but it doesn’t feel like an act. He can dance around with a purpose. And when he sings his duet with Emile for the first time, and they hold hands, he feels a bit like the kid he was in elementary school again.

And he becomes thankful Thomas gave him the chance to do this show because it’s showing off. He’s coming out of his shell. And Emilie notices it and smiles more.

Because Emile feels happy when Remy can talk to him and not look like his walking on crackling ice.

Emile had time to mature and heal while Remy was out of his life but now he feels secure because he doesn’t have to be attached to his romantic feelings and they can just be friends. They do their scenes and it’s great. Remy can hold his hand on stage and dance and Emilie is accomplished because Remy looks so… free. Not holding anything back. Not being fake. He’s being his authentic self through Angel and he finds that beautiful.

Thomas smiles when the duo are onstage and realizes he made the right casting choice.

But one day Remy and Clarimonde walked out hand and hand after practice as Emilie waited for his parents to pick him up. Remy was smiling but then Remy was kissing her and there were hands and hair and Emile felt like he was on fire and ran. Because he can't handle this.

Remy has to pretend to be in love with him and it's going to destroy Emilie because ITS NOT REAL.

Clarimonde opens her eye for a split second and damn. She knows. She sees Emile run.

A part of her feels sad, because she has feelings for Remy, but she feels like she’s in the way of Emile and Remy. So she lets go. She breaks up with him because shes “not feeling the relationship anymore”, but she still wants to be friends. And yeah, Clarimonde hurts- but she smiles through it and knows its for the best. Even if it ain’t fair.

And Emile is calling Patton crying, curled up in a ball, wanting to rip his heart out. He can’t take it anymore and says so over and over. It’s Friday so Dot and Larry drive him over to Patton’s. Roman comes over and brings ice cream and they watch Adventure Time but then Marceline shows up and Emile starts crying because REMY BAGAHAHAHAS sO they switch to avatar.

And they all cuddle and are buried under tons of blankets and it’s great.

Roman offers to punch Remy and Patton whacks him upside the head. It’s funny.

And Emile still feels like crap but at least he knows he has good friends. He isn’t alone this time.

Taglist:

@mmd-ask-italy

@thestrangedino

@dreams-palette

@unring-this-bell

@nerdqueenkat

@iloveeverytjing123

@superwholocked-for-life

@ab-artist

@spaceless-void

@sevencrashing

@i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing

@absolutesandersidestrash

@geronimo-scamander-spd

@romansleftshoulderpad

@prplzorua

@patchworkofstars

If you don’t want to be added- please let me know! If you DO want to be added- go ahead and leave a comment because that’s easiest for me!

[arthurs-wife]

hi, i love your writing! i was wondering if you could you please write something where arthur x f! reader are together but get into a huge fight, and maybe dont talk for a few days but arthur tries to make amends because he doesnt want another failed love? with a happy ending preferably! :’)

(i may not be good at smut, but i am good at being an overdramatic asshole)

“Are there more than four words in your lexicon?” you asked, keeping as much venom out of your voice as you could.

Arthur grunted at you, making things infinitely worse.

“Here, I’ll just have the whole conversation for us,” you sniped, standing up and throwing your hands on your hips and doing the worst impression of Arthur ever done, “‘just leave me alone woman, there ain’t nothin’ I want to say to you right now.’ Well, Arthur, there’s a ton of stuff I need to say to you because if you haven’t noticed, we’re not doing too well right now. ‘Probably because you won’t shut the hell up.’ Don’t tell me to shut up, Arthur.”

“Seems like you got it under control then,” he huffed, pulling his hat down and leaning further against the tree.

“I don’t know what I expected.”

“Well what do you want from me?”

“Tell me what’s bothering you, let me help you.”

“You really want to know what’s bothering me?” he asked, standing up and looking down at you.

“Please, tell me.”

“You are.”

“I don’t know why I try with you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t anymore then.”

“I won’t.”

And you stomped off.

Maybe it was better if you two just went your separate ways. You could probably make it on your own in Valentine. You heard Strawberry was an up and coming town too. Hell, maybe he’d care more about you if you were more westward than here.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t see Charles and ran straight into him.

“Oh Charles,” you bumbled, steadying yourself as he caught your arms, “I’m so sorry.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just,” you struggled, throwing your hands up, “had it out with Arthur again.” You looked apologetic, dragging people in your business wasn’t your cup of tea.

“He can be a difficult nut to crack,” he smiled and you felt better. Charles seemed so genuine, you didn’t mind talking with him about your problems.

“Maybe I’m not cut out to be with you folk,” you said.

“Don’t say that, y/n,” he said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder, “you’ve fit in better than most stowaways we’ve brought on. We got lucky with you and Sadie.”

“I think I’m gonna go camping,” you said, looking out towards the trees.

“At this hour?”

“Can I borrow your percolator?”

Charles nodded and had the grace to not ask how long you’d be.

Waking up to an open sky was not something you’d done in a while and to be honest, you’d do it all the time if you could. There was a big, outcrop of rocks to the east of Horseshoe Overlook that you loved, so you had gone there. Unfortunately, it reminded you of the first time you and Arthur had kissed. He had been so shy and gentle with you, cupping your face with his broad hand and kissing your bottom lip so slightly he felt like a cloud. That was two months ago.

Charles’ percolator bubbled away and you looked at the sky around you, cloudless and crisp. It was strange, not having anywhere to be. You were a good hunter and were able to grab a rabbit every night, gamey as it may be. You tried to not worry about what Arthur was doing, if he cared about how long you were gone. To be fair, you had not told anyone where you were going and had taken care to cover your tracks.

Part of you just wanted to leave for good.

You did have all your things with you, it wouldn’t be hard to keep going west, maybe as far as New Austin. You couldn’t even remember what you and Arthur had been fighting about originally, just that he wouldn’t open up and tell you what was upsetting him. What the hell made you think you were special? What made you could stroll in and just unlock the secrets to this beautiful man? Stupid.

You angrily packed up your camp and mounted your horse. Valentine wasn’t far, you’d stop and load up on supplies before heading out. No one would miss you.

About halfway there you heard the sound of gunfire, coming just up the road. You hitched your horse on a tree and grabbed your rifle, cresting the hill carefully. There were three men with their backs to you, shooting at someone a ways up.

“Kill ‘im, lads!” you heard one of them say. Damn O’Driscolls.

With ease you dispatched them, one, two, three. When you were sure the coast was clear you stood up and waved to the figure down the road, who was walking towards you.

“You alright partner?” you called.

“Y/n?”

Oh shit. What divine intelligence placed the two of you together again?

“Arthur,” you greeted as the two of you approached. You stopped about ten feet apart.

What did you even say to each other.

“Where’s Rachel?” you ask. Rachel was his horse that he had stolen from the O’Driscolls just before moving to Horseshoe Overlook.

“They shot her,” he sighed, looking back to where she lay, “bastards ambushed me.”

“Arthur I’m so sorry,” you said, and you were. He smiled at you.

“S’alright,” he shrugged, “she weren’t no Bodacea.”

You hummed at him.

“What were you doin’ out here anyway?” you asked.

“Was helpin’ an old friend out,” he said sheepishly.

“Okay, that’s good,” you nodded. Could you stand to be more awkward?

“Her name’s Mary,” he offered, looking at you apologetically. The way he said it made you sad, even though you damn well you weren’t the first, and probably not the last.

“Alright, well,” you said, whistling for your horse, “you need some help, then? Can’t be too useful without a horse.”

“I wouldn’t want to burden you, y/n,” he said, mounting your horse behind you and putting his hands on your hips for support.

“Where we headed?” you asked, spurring your horse.

“Cumberland Forest.”

After riding for a few minutes, Arthur bends down to your ear.

“Where did you run off to, anyway?”

“I went camping.”

“For five days?”

“Why are you so interested?”

“I was worried,” he finally said, leaning back again like he hoped you wouldn’t hear it. You’d help him get the woman he wanted back and then leave camp for good.

The place you were going turned out to be full of loons and it came down to you to chase this poor fool down, Arthur bouncing around behind you as he tried to lasso him. The boy tried to off himself but Arthur was too quick, shooting the gun out of his hand and running to catch him as he fell.

Arthur could say whatever the hell he wanted, but he was a good man under it all.

“You still got your horse, boy?” he asked, holding the kid up.

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Good, get him and we’ll follow you back to town to make sure no one gets the drop on you.”

Arthur hopped up on the back of your horse again and told you to follow the boy to where Mary was staying. And you get to meet her, too? This was shaping up to be a great day.

“You weren’t planning on leaving us, were you?” he asked, “you know we have a code.”

“Is that a threat?” you shot back at him.

“No, I just meant-”

“I don’t care what you meant,” you cut him off, “I’ll speak with Dutch when we get back and let him know I’ll be leaving first thing.”

“Why did you help me then?” he asked. There was a hidden question in there, one you didn’t need him to elaborate on.

“Because you silly fool,” you were on the verge of tears, “I love you. And I don’t care who you’re true to or who you are, that’s not gonna change. I will always be there for you.” You stop and consider your actual position. “Which is why I’m stayin’, I guess. If y’all will have me.”

He didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride. When you arrived at Mary’s place, he hopped down and held out his arms for you. You reached out and he helped you down, keeping his hands on your waist and looking at you, finally looking at you.

“I don’t want you to leave, y/n,” he finally said, a smile creeping onto his face, “and I’m sorry for being an ass. You’ll have to teach me how to act in a union like this.”

“What makes you think that’s good enough?”

“It ain’t,” he said, “but stick around and let me be good enough for you.” 

You beamed as he swooped down and kissed you and you didn’t realize how much you had missed him.

“I won’t run off no more,” you said, walking with him up to the house.

“It seemed to work out in our favor this once,” he laughed and slipped his arm around your waist.

The look on Mary’s face would have been sad if you didn’t have the world’s most amazing man wrapped around you.

[uchihashisuii]

hey I wrote this in like an hour so it’s probably Bad but have a short Viktor/female V fic featuring some Pining

...

The gate to the clinic closes noisily, as per the norm. Vik clicks the padlock shut, tugs it a few times for good measure, then takes the steps two at a time to the alleyway. The back door to Misty's is open, soft light guiding his steps alongside the gentle trickle of music. Vik shoves his hands in his pockets, ready to head on home, same as every other day.

He steps over the threshold into the Esoterica, mouth already open to greet Misty, when his step falters and his mouth drops open further.

Misty and V are standing together in front of the mirror behind the counter. V's leaning an inch away from the wall, eyes narrowed as she applies a tube of dark lipstick. Misty's standing behind her, spraying something sweet-smelling into her wild hair. They're both dressed to the nines; Misty in her usual boots, with ripped fishnets and a dark leather skirt, with an off-the-shoulder black top. Dark makeup and a choker necklace.

V, however, he's never seen like this. Dark legs almost completely bare, nothing but a tight black high-waisted skirt that stops an inch or two under her ass, with a long-sleeved blue button up tucked into the waist. The shirt hasn't a single button done up, a generous slice of brown skin on display, the curves of her breasts obvious.

Fuck, he should've worn loose pants. Or gone the long way around. Or stayed in the fucking clinic.

It's at the exact moment Vik considers backing away slowly that V turns to look at him. Her lipstick's only half done but the fucking smile she beams at him is enough to punch him in the gut. He's never seen anyone look so heartbreakingly beautiful in his life.

"Vik! Just the man I wanted to see," V says, because his stomach wasnt quite knotted enough, I guess.

He manages to clear his throat enough to speak, running a hand over his jaw to hide his probable flush. "Always happy to be needed. You're looking sharp, ladies. Special occasion?" His voice sounds strange to his own ears, as though he's been holding his breath.

Pretty girl smiles at him and he's ruined. Christ, he feels like a fucking teenager.

Misty gives him a knowing look, and Vik is once again certain she's actually fucking psychic and prays to whatever God is listening that she cant read his thoughts. But she only shrugs and says "birthday party."

V waves her hand with an eyeroll. "Friend of a friend. Rollin' in eddies type. Flashed some cash and invited all his friends, who invited all their friends, etcetera. So Misty, amazing friend that she is, agreed to come with me to some club in Japantown." V turns back to the mirror at this point, finishing off her makeup and giving him a front-row seat to her scantily-clad ass. God is punishing him.

"Not certain I even know the birthday boy, but hey. He bought out the place for the night and I never say no to fancy drinks and embarrassing myself on the dancefloor," V finishes, turning back around and leaning back on the wall with a smile. Vik's almost positive she caught him staring at her ass, but she (thankfully) says nothing about it.

"V wanted to invite you to come with us," Misty says from her spot perched on the counter, digging through her purse.

Vik looks from one woman to the other with a cocked brow. "You know how old I am, right? Clubbing ain't exactly my scene anymore."

V rolls her eyes, crossing her arms beneath her breasts, causing them to push further out from under her shirt. Vik tries (fails) not to notice. "First: I doubt that. Second: who cares? Third: it'll be fuuuun." She draws out the last word, reaching out to take his hand with both of her own. V looks up at him from beneath her lashes, offering a too-sweet smile that goes straight to his cock.

Vik opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Closes it. V looks at him expectantly, Misty continues rifling through her purse. He opens his mouth. "I dont think -"

"Perfect! The cabs on it's way, itll fit three no problem," V interrupts with a clap of her hands. She brushes past him, leaning up on her tiptoes to brush a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Viktor."

Viktor. Not Vik. She never calls him that. No one ever calls him that. He's too fucking surprised to even react when V reaches up with a laugh to wipe the lipstick she'd left off his cheek. She all but skips to the front door, presumably to light a smoke and wait for the aforementioned cab, and Vik still just stands there, hand pressed to the spot she had kissed and then wiped all evidence of away as though it was nothing.

Misty breaks him from his stupor with a breathy "aha!" and jumps up from her seat. She struts over to him and offers the item she'd finally dug out of her purse.

It's a tarot card. The lovers.

"For luck," Misty says with a pat to his shoulder before heading outside after V.

He stares at the old card for a full minute. Considers. Shoves it in his back pocket and resigns himself to forget about it.

(He doesn't.)

[soaimagines]

All Night Long

Request: Imagine meeting Juice in a carpark at 3am and he’s worried about your safety and it makes you cry a bit because you feel like you have no one to call a friend anymore and Juice stays with you all day.

~

Hmm.

It wasn’t unusual for your best friend to turn up at your house unannounced. But usually you were home when she did. You parked your car in the driveway and hopped out, slinging your bag over your shoulder and bumping the door shut with your hip. Knowing her, she’d probably forgot to pay her power bill or buy groceries and was taking full advantage of your open door policy. You didn’t mind, because when your cupboards weren’t stocked, or your water was running cold you knew you could turn to her. You only hoped that she hadn’t woken up George. Your fiancé had had a late night at work on the night shift and you had slipped out as silently as you could when you left for work this morning. But the office had been quiet and your boss had decided to let you all go home early. You walked quickly to the front door, humming to yourself as you went and you swung the door shut behind you before dropping your bag to the floor. “You better not be eating my oreos!” You kicked off your shoes and walked into the lounge. Huh. No one was in there. You headed for the kitchen and when you saw that it was empty too you frowned and put your hands on your hips. And that was when you heard it. A moan. Coming from down the hall. You gulped and almost instantly felt sick to your stomach. With careful footsteps you crept down the hallway. “Mmmm!” You took another step. Another moan. Two more steps. “Fuck! Yes!” One more step. “George!” You stopped outside your bedroom door. With a shaking hand you turned the door knob slowly, careful not to make any noise. Another moan. You took a deep breath and threw the door open. It was almost comical, the way they jumped,  their eyes open wide like a deer caught in headlights. Scrambling to grab at the sheets and cover their naked bodies. Their mouths bobbing open like  fucking goldfish. Your fiancé, in bed with your best friend. Your best friend, in bed with your fiancé. Your fiancé. Your best friend. You want to deny the nightmare before you; it just had to be a nightmare, right? Not him. Not her. You had always thought you’d known what you would do in a situation like this. You thought you’d fly into a rage, pummel his chest with your fists, drag her out of your bed by her hair, scream until your throat was raw. But you didn’t do any of those things. You stood, frozen with shock, only able to stare. In the faint distance you hear George, stuttering his explanation. The cliche ‘its not what it looks like’ as he stands, clutching the pillow to his crotch as if you’d never seen his dick before. Now she was scrambling, wrapping the sheet around her naked body as she slid off the bed. You saw her lips, mouthing ‘it just sort of happened’ and ‘it doesn’t mean anything’ but you didn’t hear her. You didn’t hear him pleading with you. Your mind was racing but you still stood, unmoving. “We didn’t mean for this to happen!” We. We. We. Something snapped inside you and you slid the ring off your finger, throwing it in his face before clenching your fist and swinging it into his jaw. “Fuck you!” You screamed. “Fuck both of you!”

~

“Come on, (y/n). Cheer up.” “Cheer up?! Are you fucking kidding me Chelsea?” Your sister rolled her eyes and slammed another shot before forcing a glass into your hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just ya know, maybe its time to move on.” “Jesus christ.” You took the shot and gestured to the bartender for another round. “You do realise I was engaged, right? To be married?” “Look, I get its a shitty situation. He’s a scumbag and she’s a hoe. I get it. But you cant dwell on it forever.” “Its been a week.” “Thats six days too long, babe.” You both took a shot. “Plus, I never liked him anyway.” She shrugged. “You didn’t? “He wasn’t right for you. He wears crocs, (y/n). In public.” You laughed and took another shot before spinning on your stool and looking around the bar. “What am i gonna do?” “Get drunk. Fuck a stranger.” Chelsea shrugged. “Great advice, sis.” You rolled your eyes. “Really though, where do I go from here?” Your sister sighed and turned in her seat too and she leant back against the abr. “Honestly? I don’t know what you’re gonna do. But I know who Im gonna do.” She winked at you and slinked off her chair, walking confidently to the table at the back of the room, where three guys sat. You sighed and ordered another shot. For now, you were allowed to feel sorry for yourself.

“Your call has been redirected to a prerecorded voice messaging system. Please-“ You hit end and sighed. Why was it that no one ever answered the phone when you needed them too. It was the third number you’d tried. First, you’d tried Sarah, your friend. And then another friend, but she had sent you to voicemal. And then you’d tried Susan from work. God you didn’t even fucking like Susan, but you just needed someone to talk to. As much as you loved your sister, and her coping methods, you just needed to voice your thoughts. Nothing was making any sense anymore and no matter how much you drank you couldn’t wipe the memory of that day from replaying in your mind. You didn’t know which betrayal was worse. Absentmindedly you rubbed the spot on your finger where your ring used to sit. At least you hadn’t married him yet. Thats gotta be a positive, right? Silver lining or some shit. “Hurry up!” You looked up from your spot on the bathroom counter and sighed. You couldn’t hide in the bathroom of a bar forever. “Just a sec!” You splashed some water on your face and dabbed it dry wiht a paper towel before you headed back to the table. “(Y/n)! Where’d you go?!” You slid back into the booth next to your drunk sister, who threw her arms around you. The guys from earlier had been shouting drinks all night, and all though you didn’t mind their company, all you wanted was to hang out with your sister. Alone. “So, (y/n), tell me about yourself.” The guy in front of you smiled. TIm, you think his name was. “Id rather not.” You sighed. Chelsea nudged your arm and you rolled your eyes. “(Y/n) here just got out of a shitty relationship.” You frowned and the guys looked at you curiously. “He cheated on her.” Chelsea whispered, loudly. Vodka always did go straight to her head. “With her best friend!” You lifted the glass in front of you and downed it before slamming it down on the table. “Well you know what they say,” Tim said, a smirk on his face. You looked at him with raised eye brows, an unamused look on your face. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” You grimaced. “Im going home.” Chelsea grabbed your arm and tugged you back into your seat but you shook her off. “Are you coming?” Chelsea looked between you and the guys who were watching her expectantly. “Im gonna stay, sis. You should too!” “Suit yourself.” You turned your back and headed out of the club, trying- but failing to ignore the laughter coming from the table and tears stung at your eyes. For a moment you considered ordering another round of drinks and getting black out wasted. But everything in this bar was becoming too much; the Bon Jovi blasting through the speakers, the clinking of glasses, the raised voices battling to be heard over each other. You decided against it and headed for the door. The night air hit you and you tugged your jacket tighter around yourself. You walked to the carpark and sat down on the curb, pulling out your phone and dialled for a taxi. The operator told you there’d be an hour wait, and after trying the only other cab company in the area and being told the same thing, you sighed and booked it anyway. Why had your sister dragged you to the bar furthest from your motel?! It was too far to walk, and you didn’t really have the energy. Looks like you’d just have to wait.

~

“Shit.” You tried the lighter again, hoping desperately to see a flame but just like last time the lighter sparked before dying out. “Need a light?” You jumped and turned to look behind you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just um.. I have a lighter,” The guy said, holding out an old zippo lighter and a warm smile on his face. “Thanks.” You flashed him a smile and took the lighter. Your hand met his and you couldn’t help but notice how warm they were. You lit your cigarette. It was your fifth smoke since you’d come outside but you always smoked like a prostitute when you were angry. or nervous. Or drunk, for that matter. “Are you waiting for someone?” He asked. You passed the lighter back to him and he shoved it deep into the pocket of his hoodie. “Cab.” You answered and took a long drive. “They said it’d be an hour. But that was well over an hour ago.” ���Huh.” He sat down next to you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, I’ll wait with you.” “Its okay. I’ll be fine, really.” “I dont mind.” His smile was warm and he seemed genuine. You shrugged and he pulled his own pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. You looked at him and this time you really took him in. His mohawk, his tribal tattoos on either side, the plain black hoodie he wore. His warm brown eyes. You both sat in silence as you smoked, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “Im (y/n).” He smiled warmly at you. “Juan Carlos.” You smiled back at him. “You really don’t need to wait with me, Im sure they wont be long.” “Its fine, really. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be on these streets alone.” You blushed and looked away. The streetlights shone down on you, illuminating your features and Juice studied you the best he could without staring. Why did he even care? He didn’t know you. Why did some stranger seem to care more about you then your own friends and family. The emotions you’d been fighting to hold in all week suddenly washed over you and you turned away as a tear rolled down your cheek. Juice took once last drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt into the gutter. He heard a sniffle and noticed your shoulders slowly shaking. For a second he was alarmed. What had he done?! He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he couldn’t just ignore you crying. Fuck it, he thought. He didn’t speak. He just wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. Which only seemed to make you cry harder and he rocked you slowly. “Fuck.” You laughed humourlessly and wiped your tears away. “Im sorry.” “Dont apologise.” You turned to him. His brown eyes were filled with worry and a sad smile was on his lips. He looked into your eyes. God, there was something so beautiful about eyes that have just cried. Glistening with unshed tears and wet lashes, like an open window into your soul. He was overwhelmed by the emotion you held in your eyes. Your face was almost blank, but when he looked into your eyes he felt every emotion that had washed over you. Your eyes betrayed you, letting him see all the pain you’d been fighting so hard to hold in. He rubbed your back gently before pulling away and rummaged through his pockets. You looked away, cursing yourself for breaking down in front of the cute Puerto Rican boy. When you looked back he had a joint in his hands and he gave you a sheepish grin. You laughed and he lit it, taking a long drag before offering it to you. “You smoke?” “Yeah,” You shrugged and took it between your fingers.  “I mean, I haven’t in years. My fiancé hates it.” “Your engaged?” You blew out a long cloud before shaking your head. “Not any more.” He nodded slowly and silence fell between you once more, as you passed the joint back and forth. “Everythings so fucked up.” Juice stood, tossing the burnt out roach into the street. He held out his hand and you looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Come on,” He smiled. “You can tell me everything over pancakes.” You smiled and bit your lip, checking the street to make sure your cab hadn’t finally arrived. It hadn’t, and you were strangely relieved. “Its 3am. Is anything even open?” He nodded. “Theres an all-night diner in the next street. They do this thing called the Juan Carlos special. Some genius invented it, its world famous. You really should try it.” You grinned and took hold of his warm hand and he pulled you up, that goddamned smile all over his face.

~

“Jesus.” You whispered under your breath as the waitress placed the food on your table. Two plates each loaded with a four inch stack of pancakes, two waffles, a jug of maple syrup, banana, whipped cream, and a shit ton of bacon. The ‘Juan Carlos Special’. Juice grinned and tucked in, stabbing into the pile of bacon with his fork. “You not hungry?” He asked with a mouthful of pancake. You laughed and shook your head. “I don’t know where to start.” “Bacon. Always start with bacon.” You picked up your fork and stabbed a piece of bacon, moaning when the flavour hit your tongue. Juice grinned across the table. “So, tell me everything.” “You really wanna know?” You sighed. He shrugged and lifted the jug or maple syrup and poured the whole thing onto his plate. “Only if you want to.” He waved a forkful of pancake in the air. “Look, I’m shit at giving advice. But sometimes it helps, ya know. Talking to a stranger. Outside perspective and all that.” “He fucked my best friend.” You blurted out. He paused, forkful of pancake hallway to his mouth. “Seriously?” You nodded. “Asshole.” And just like that you opened up. You told him everything. You told him about your best friend and how you’d met in kindergarten. You told him about your teenage years where you and her would get up to all kinds of mischeif. You told him about the first time you met your fiancé, about your relationship, about the proposal and moving in together. Everything. Right down to when you opened that door and saw her riding his dick. And he listened. Like, really listened. He hung off every word, asked you questions, interrupted you with mutters of ‘douchbag’ and ‘asshole’. “So my sister dragged me out tonight to try cheer me up but she ditched me for some random guys. And no one else answered their phones.” You sighed. “I just feel like I have no one.. ya know? Like Ive lost everything.” “Gimme your phone.” Juice said and pushed away his now empty plate. You raised an eyebrow. “You buy me pancakes and then rob me?” He chuckled and held out his hand. With a roll of your eyes you handed him your cell phone. His fingers went to work and you watched him. You didn’t even know this kid. And yet he was here for you; more than any of your friends had been. He had listened more than your own sister. He made you feel so.. comfortable. You looked away from him and eyed the diner. Its checkered floors, shiny red booths, CocaCola posters from the fifties framed on the walls. Neon lights hung in the window and near the back was an old jukebox playing some Meatloaf balled. He handed you back your phone and you glanced at the screen. New Contact. Juice. “Juice?” “My friends call me Juice.” He explained. You hit edit on the screen. “I prefer Juan, if you don’t mind?” His whole face lit up and he was thankful you were too busy looking at your screen to notice the blush creeping up his neck. “Whenever you need anything. Talk, or pancakes. Call me.” “Thank you, Juan. Really.” You smiled. “Anytime. So tell me, how do you feel about revenge?”

~

“Are you seriously breaking in?” You hissed. He shushed you and you glanced around nervously while he hovered over the lock. “Juan, seriously. Im not really keen on getting arrested.” He sniggered and pushed the door open before reaching inside and flicking the light switch. “Calm down, (y/n). You aint a crim just yet.” He pulled you inside and shut the door behind you. Your eyes widened as you took in the room; the pristine white walls, bob marley posters. Shelves stacked with different jars and bongs. And of course, that undeniable smell. “So you work here or something?” He shook his head and headed behind the counter. “Nah, I own it.” “Seriously? You own Clear Passages?” “Sorta.” He shurgged. “Twenty percent anyway.” You nodded and paced the store,your arms swinging by your sides as eyed the different strands on the shelves. Juice rummaged under the counter. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked as he pulled out the container he had been searching for. You bit your lip and nodded. Juice searched your face for any uncertainty before nodding and sliding the container into his pocket. He turned and grabbed a sachet of the shelf behind him before heading out from behind the counter. “C’mon.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the exit, flicking off the light as he went. You entered the street and he locked the door behind the two of you. “Its too far to walk, and I don’t have my car. The cabs-“ “I’ll take us.” Juice interrupted. “Okay.” You walked in silence, Juice leading the way. The streets were becoming quiet as the early hours of the morning rolled in and you shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. You neared a gas station and Juice pointed into the car park next door. “My rides the one in the corner, you can wait there if ya want?” He headed inside and you nodded, stopping at a vending machine and pressing the button for a can of coke. The can dropped and you reached inside and lifted it out. You cracked the lid open as you walked and took a sip. The car park was nearly empty and Juice had pointed to the corner. You lit a cigarette before perching on the hood of the sedan and leant back, studying the stars shining in the night sky. A few minutes later Juice left the store, plastic bag in his hand and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he neared. He sat on the hood next to you and took a sip of the coke you offered him. “Get everything?” He nodded. “His house or hers first?” “His. He works nights so he wont be home.” Juice nodded and leant back against the car and you both looked up at the stars. “Whose car is this?” You turned to him, your brows furrowed together. “You pointed to it.” He shook his head, an amused look in his eyes. “I pointed to that.” You looked where he pointed to the carpark next to you. The carpark occupied with a Harley Davidson Dyna. You slid off the car and glanced between the bike and Juice, who was now smirking at you. You walked around the bike and immediately noticed the fuel tank. More accurately, you noticed the M16 with the Grim Reaper scythe on a pole, and the words that made you freeze. ‘Sons Of Anarchy’. You turned back to him,  eyes slightly wide. “Your in a gang?! Jesus, you don’t look like a biker.” “Firstly, we’re a club, not a gang. And what does a biker look like, exactly?” You shrugged. “I dunno. Your not even wearing any leather? And you don’t have a beard. Or a potbelly.” He chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint. I can grow a pretty great moustache, though.” You scrunched up your face and he laughed again before handing you his helmet. “This really not a problem?” He asked you as he swung his leg over. “Nope.” You answered as you bucked the strap beneath your chin. “Have you ever been on a bike before?” “Nope.” He grinned. “Hold on tight. And lean with me.” You took a deep breath and nodded before holding onto his shoulder and swinging your leg over the bike. You held onto his sides and he rolled his eyes before pulling your hands tighter around him. He kicked up his kickstand and started the bike. The engine rumbled beneath you and you squeezed him tightly. He turned and met your eye. “You okay?” You nodded. Slowly the bike began to move, and once he entered the street he turned the throttle, gaining speed. You gulped as he turned a corner but you leant with him like he had told you, despite wanting to lean in the opposite direction and he sped up, making your hair blow out beneath the helmet. Gradually you relaxed, your grip around his waist becoming looser and you sat up straight. The scenery rushed past you in a blur and a grin spread over your face. You had never felt more alive.

~

“Motherfucker.” He stopped walking and stood next to you, glancing in the direction you were glaring. “Whats wrong?” “Thats her car.” He saw the pain in your eyes as you looked at your best friends car, parked where you used to park yours; in the drive way of the house you had shared with your fiance. He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Come on.” You nodded and moved forward, dropping his hand. Juice couldn’t help but smirk as he watched you creep across the street, your body hunched and your head glancing from side to side and he snorted as you army rolled behind a bush. He walked casually across the street and smirked as you hissed at him to hide. He knelt down next to you and you turned to him with wild eyes. “Do you want us to get caught?” You whispered angrily. “Jesus christ, we’re not breaking the law.” “Sorry, I forgot you were a gangster.” You rolled your eyes. “You probably don’t care if we go to jail.” He fought a laugh. “Its a club, not a gang. And its your house, (y/n). You have a key.” You nodded and pulled the hood of your jacket up and pulled it as low as it could go. “So whats the plan, Chief?” Juice whispered. “You start out here. I’ll head inside.” Juice nodded and watched as you crept to the front door, silently fumbling with the keys. Meanwhile he pulled the can of spray paint out of the bag and got to work. You pushed the door shut behind you, careful not to make any noise. You felt sick as you looked around the house. The moon was bright tonight and the room was dimly lit. After a while your eyes adjusted and you looked around the room. The photos of you and your fiancé were still littered over the mantel piece and everything looked just as you’d left it. Except the heels scattered next to the door, and the coat draped over the back of the sofa. You gulped and tip toed into the kitchen. Every Wednesday afternoon you had baked. Brownies, cakes, cookies. You had always liked baking and George had always loved tasting whatever you had cooked up. No matter what, there was always some fresh baking in your cupboards. Which was perfect, because you knew when George got home he would head to the cupboard and eat whatever baking he could find, without a second thought. You placed the container Juice had given you in the cupboard, smiling to yourself. George wouldn’t even notice that these brownies were.. special. Next you headed for the refrigerator. Your best friend staying here meant that you didn’t need to make two stops tonight. Every morning she had a big glass of orange juice. You pulled the carton out of the fridge and opened it carefully before dumping the powder in and shaking it gently, making sure it dissolved. It was only a laxative, completely natural, Juice had reassured you. You knew she had a big meeting tomorrow, and you smirked. Its a shame she would be glued to the toilet. You had just placed the carton back into the fridge when Juice entered the room. “You ready?” He whispered. “Almost.” You reached for the drawer and pulled out a large knife. You gave him a wink and grinned. His eyes went wide as he saw the wild look in your eyes and the smirk on your face and he grabbed your wrist. “Are you crazy?! Put it down.” “No.” “What are you gonna do?! Stab her?!” He hissed at you. You rolled your eyes and left the kitchen, Juice hot on your heels and you stopped when you reached the lounge. “Hold this.” You passed him the knife. “Why, you wanna get my prints on the murder weapon?!” You scoffed and tip toed over to the mantelpiece. Carefully you lifted the first frame. It was a photo of you and George on your first vacation together. You pulled the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and pressed your palm against the frame, silently shattering the glass. You placed the frame back on the mantel and repeated the process with the remaining frames. Juice watched you and when you were finished you walked back to him and grabbed the knife. He followed you through the front door and pulled it shut behind him. You locked the door and shoved the keys back in your pocket. “Whats the knife for?” He whispered. “This.” You walked across the driveway and stabbed the knife into the front tire of her car. The air hissed out and you pried the knife loose before stabbing each of the remaining three tires. Juice had crossed the street and you walked over and stood next to him. He draped an arm around your shoulder and you both looked at the house. Juice  had done well with the spray paint and you smiled as you looked at the work he’d done. ‘Cheat’ was spray painted in large letters on the garage door. He’d written ‘homewrecker’ on the bonnet of your friends car and the walls of the house were littered with other profanities, and next to the front window of the house he had painted a large penis. “Nice touch, Picasso.” He bowed and you both laughed. “So what now?” “We wait a few hours and then I ring his work and make an anonymous tip about the staff using drugs. If he eats the brownies he’ll fail the drug test and lose his job.” You smirked. Sure, a part of you felt bad for what you’d done. But it was only a very small part of you, and you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Slowly Juice pulled you away and you walked together in silence back to his bike were you’d left it further down your street. He passed you the helmet  and you both hopped onto the bike. You pressed your cheek to his back as he rode through the night, the crisp air brushing over you and you closed your eyes. He smelled good, his cologne mixing with the faint smell of weed and the scent filled your lungs. You clung to him tightly, his warm body pressed against yours. You felt light, like all your baggage had finally been left behind you. Who knew all it would take was one night with a Puerto Rican biker boy. The bike slowed and you finally took in your surroundings. He had brought you to the water tower on the outskirts of town. “Come on, we gotta hurry.” He dragged you to the ladder and you shook your head. “No way. I ain’t climbing up there!” You crossed your arms over your chest. Juice rolled his eyes and tugged your elbow gently. “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” His eyes were full of promise and pleading and you sighed. “Fine. But if i fall to my death please make sure they dress me in something cute. I don’t wanna be buried in these jeans.” And you started to climb. He didn’t know why you disliked those jeans so much. From where he was looking, they looked great on you. Although he was climbing the ladder beneath you, and honestly it wouldnt matter what you were wearing, this view made your ass look great. It only took a few minutes to reach the top and you stood shakily on the platform. “Holy shit.” You whispered. You could see everything from up here. The shining lights of all the houses in Charming and even Lodi. Everything was so small. Juice sat down, swinging his legs off the edge and resting his arms against the lower railing. You copied him and he pulled out another joint and lit it before offering it to you. Together you shared the joint and together you watched as the large glowing sphere of the sun rose slowly into the dull morning sky. It cast sunbeams in every direction as it illuminated the small town, like an arsonist setting the sky on fire. Below you in the trees birds began to chirp a background melody as the pure scattered light lit up every inch of the land below you. Your breath paused in your lungs and you wished time would stop. In this moment everything was forgotten. You forgot the heartbreak you’d endured, the betrayal. You forgot the boring motel room that was now your temporary home. You forgot that no one had been there for you when you needed them most. But the one thing you didn’t forget was Him. The first night you spent with Juan Carlos was a memory that would live on inside you forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @danleto97

If you want to be added to the tag list for any, or all the Sons please let me know x

[acefaerie]

I think its really understandable that a lot of younger people sort of assuming that somehow not having an attraction to others is seen as a virtue especially by religious groups. 

When i was a teen my lack of interest in relationships was seen by the adults in my life that “oh she is just shy” “she’s been a good girl and focusing on school work” and tbh that was the narrative i told myself.  

except, looking back there was an underlying concern from adults that I was “missing out” on the Ideal Teen Romance TM. I got hints of it when ever I made a new male friend. “Oh he looks like he might be your type.” followed by a hopeful smile. after a while i got the “Its okay if you like girls” because i think by this time my parents had realised “she’s really not that interested in boys is she”.

but these instances were mild, my parents, specifically my mother who is “liberal” mind you, and had many close female friends who were lesbian and bi, kept out of my way. I was doing well at school, i was a “good girl”. So for me i think i get why some young people don’t understand the pressure for people to pair up because when you are in highschool if there is pressure its from peers and generally parents consider you to be “just a late bloomer”. But this is my experience, which was.. 15 years ago, and the world has changed quickly and drastically it may be different for others. It may also be that i am privileged in coming grom a generally accepting family, that is not religious, that would have accepted without question any girls I brought home (in fact i was asked if i wanted to).

My peer group generally either made jokes about my lack of interest or assumed i was gay. the general knowledge around school was i was gay, even my guy friends who never asked me also just.. assumed that was the case. I was lucky in the sense that like my mother most of my friends were either bi themselves and therefore didn’t care or pretty liberal minded. so i was cushioned... except for this one girl Tanya. She was homophobic and hated me because of it, i know this because i overheard her complaining about me one time and it generally was about how she had interpreted any causual friendly touch i had with my other friends as “creepy and weird”. I was forced to spend time with her because one of my “best” friends  was really good friends with her (who we have another story about but its only slightly related to this) and wanted us to hang out all the time. 

Tanya made my last year of highschool hell. She poisoned friends against me, and created a sort of social outcasting that left me without a support group. I was unlucky that a lot of my out bi friends who accepted me dropped out the previous year for various reasons. So i was left with the only people who sort of hung out with me being the largely straight (or closeted best friend who when she did start dating a girl, did so in secretl) acquaintances of those friends, who were easily convinced by Tanya to drop me from the group.

but here is the thing. I never called myself gay, (a am a pan/bi ace yes but at the time the only thing i ever said or did was say “Im not really interested in boys” because I really didnt know what i was) just not being interested  was enough for Tanya. 

besides  my awful experience with Tanya I get why teens think “not being interested” puts a pretty light target on your back. even if my parents were disappointed i didnt experience the “ideal teen romance TM” it wasnt a huge concern. The bullying a recieved from Tanya is also ambigious because she was exactly the kind of bigot who was bigoted against everyone who was different she was basically the epotime of what prejudice people talk about when they talk about the “prejudice tree” where a bigotted person who is biggeted against one thing is bigotted against most things that are different from them.

What was my point. Oh, yes. in highschool the main negative reactions i got were from people sharing frustration and disappointment about me dating (though the “late bloomer” thought pretty much silenced this crowd) and the more aggressive lot who were homophobic and i fit enough of the criteria for them to consider me a target.

The first negative thing, the frustration and disapointment, as an ace i think that has become more impactful the older I have got. The pressure started to hit hard in my twentie. “Something is wrong with you” reactions from people grew the more i became “clearly an adult” Friends who were fine in highschool suddenly treated me like i was a kid who didn’t know anything about anything because “i hadn’t had a relationship or sex what do i know about being an adult”. My parents, though well meaning became more and more worried abut what was wrong with me.

Omg the relief they felt when i had a relationship that lasted two weeks (where i cried the whole time and barely even kissed the person).

relationships and sex are treated by our society as a right of passage for becoming an adult. So its fine to be a late bloomer, but thats what these people think you are “a late bloomer” not fully complete yet, still growing.

my mother who was so supportive in my teens and early twenties started letting her anxiety about me leak through when i spent most of my 20s not even “just single” but actively not looking I think she even once told me she just wanted me to have the experience of a real relationship, after i had one that was online (which was like having one without having to touch a person which i enjoyed, until he came over and there was touching and i didn’t enjoy it as much anymore because both I and he forced me into sexual situations i was not ready for but had been convinced by everyone i knew that that is what you did if you were in a relationship) after him i felt physically ill if i knew a person found me attractive so actively avoided being “too sexy” so people wouldnt.

the first healthy relationship slightly romantic relationship i had was a Queer platonic one, with a woman. Everyone knew we were in love, even my professors. but it remained platonic and honestly helped free me from all the toxic stuff that happened before. Im still incredably close to her. 

at this time though I was in my mid to late thirties, and my families comments had become less “you are too picky” to “Im worried you will never find someone” “you are nearly 30″ “what if you want kids you can’t leave it too late”. 

its all small stuff but it mounts up. its mirco-aggressions that become deafening. Im childish because i don;t like sex i need to grow up, im weird im wrong im mistaken im making my parents sad, why can’t i be who they want me to be, my mother crying because she just wants me to have a special person but never understanding that my QPR WAS my special person because to her that was just a friend, people saying i don’t know what i want, people saying im a loser cos they never see me dating, people telling me they ” think being single is a sign of failure” people telling me that when they call me a prude its an insult and im weird if i dont feel bad for being a prude, people telling me i should be interested, “don’t you find him attractive”, “sex is amazing what do you mean you dont like it”,” i think you are just scared of love”, “you must be a closet lesbian”, “your just a straight faking for attention.” “why are you trying to date normal people isnt there a website for people like you?” “its not our fault there arent many of you”, “your a bad girlfriend if you don’t like kissing he/she will be hurt if you wipe the saliva away or if you say you arent attracted to them”, “you don’t understand what love is” “you are confused” “you are sick, see a doctor”, “you’re abusive,” “ you don;t know what you are talking about”, “your sick, is it a hormone deficiency” “HAH you don’t like sex just get married then you wont get any”, “how can you not feel attracted then,” your abusive if you have sex but not sexually attracted”, “you’re abusive if you dont have sex cos you are with-holding from the other person”, “it's okay if you dont want sex for now know but thats just how relationships progress”, “Why don't you like him he likes you, “” Im worried you are going to be alone for ever” 

The pressure of it used to keep me up at night where i felt i was FAILING everyone i knew because i just couldn't bring myself to feel that way about another person. I became deeply depressed. It was the main reason i considered suicide.

when i finally did enter a relationship again after two years of EVERYONE pushing for it. that pressure stopped in so far as people stopped pressuring me to be with him, but now i feel like i have to pretend to be normal so people will leave me alone, and i feel like part of me is lying to myself.

I worry about falling back into unhealthy patterns where i play the role of girlfriend just so i can stop people from knowing im weird. The only saving grace is this time my partner and I know im asexual. He doesn’t quite understand it but he respects my boundaries. still part of me feels like this relationship is a compromise. he doesn't get it completely even though he tries.  he treats me well and i love him,  Its just getting to this point my twenties were years of me ripping up my insides because of all the things society was saying to me. I felt trapped between the fear of being alone and the fear of having to force myself into a relationship again. 

So i get why young people dont get what negativity you can face for being aro/ace but thats because the virtue of being disinterested is only a virtue if its temporary. and even then don’t underestimate the power of bigots to sniff out a difference to target you for.

[kiwiquii]

You are 15. You have just started grade 11 at school. You have a good group of friends, 20 or so people that you genuinely enjoy being around. You have a boyfriend and the relationship is going well.

Its march, near the end of the first term. You notice some people in the group are not really getting along, and for some reason, 15 of the people get up and walk out of the group. They refuse to rejoin the two.

The 5 left includes you and your boyfriends friends.

A couple of weeks later, one of your friends tries to go to the group of 15 to talk to his girlfriend. He gets literally shoved out.

You send a private message to the 'leader' of the group asking her why she split the two. She tells you x was flirting with her ex and she didnt like that.

She tells you that you are a nosy bitch for questioning her. Half an hour later, you get 5 other people sending you messages

"You are a piece of shit"

"You dont deserve to have friends"

"I have hated you for years"

To this day you agree with all of these.

Its June. Your boyfriend hits rock bottom, runs away from home and drops out of school. You tell him to go back to school at least, he is a very intelligent person.

He tells you you are being a bitch for refusing to support him.

You then realise that everything that had happened in the relationship wasnt normal. He liked to physically abuse you. He often said something like "if you refuse to kiss me right now i will kill myself". He often got upset if you wanted to talk to your friends one day.

So you break up with him. You tell him that you have realised these things arent right. He tells you that you dont deserve to be loved and you have no hope of getting a lasting relationship. You agree.

It gets to September. At this point you start to question whether its worth going on. Something happens, and before you realise what you have done, you have gouged out part of your wrist.

You realise there is something really wrong with you, so the next day you go to the school councellor. She tells your parents and you start on therapy. You think it is a waste of time.

You can't last a month without making a new scar on yourself. It gets to november and the group merges back together. You cant join them, even seeing the people who attacked you sends you into panic.

You catch the bus home from school every day. And every day, you have a panic attack because the noise and claustrophobia is too much. Music is the only thing that can help it.

Your grades are failing. You used to be a good student, not the best but rarely getting less than a B. Now you are failing every subject.

You start grade 12. At this point you have 3 people you can count on. One is a girl you met online that you talk to every day, but she lives in america. Another is a girl you have been best friends with since grade 8. The last is a guy who for some reason still puts up with you.

Your best friend is popular. She still talks to everyone in the old group and she has ofher friends. You see her once every second day for the shorter break.

The guy is busy too. You dont see him that much.

For a while, you had a group of friends on an online forum. After a few months they realised you werent worth anything and you get banned. This happens with another forum as well.

Your mother is a very social person. You go to parties every other week with your parents. You try to tell them how uncomfortable they make you, but they refuse to listen.

One of the last things you enjoy is fishing. Sometimes, the parties your parents hold are at the beach, so you try to get as far away from the party as possible to escape in the waves. Each time, you consider just swimming out to keep going until you drown. Each time, you stop yourself because you forgot to say goodbye.

It gets to grade 12, you are 4 weeks in. Since the group joined back together, you have been sitting in an out of bounds area where no one can find you. Teachers tell you that you are lucky to not get suspended. You tell them you couldnt care less

It is the first time you ride your bike to school. It happens to be the class with an air con first so you are relieved. At 9:05 the school gets a bomb scare. You are made to sit on the field. You are messaging your dad and listening to music because you are terrified. A teacher tries to take your phone. You tell them to piss off. They make you sit in the sun away from the rest of the students. You keep messaging your dad. The teachers tell you if you dont hand over your phone they will suspend you. You tell them go ahead. At one point a teacher grabs you to try and get it.

Your parents find out about everything that happened, and they take it to the principal threatening to charge for assault. They are told that if they followed through, you would be an outcast to all teachers. Because what is the word of one mentally ill girl against professionals?

A few days later, the guy you were friends with approaches you. He tells you that he wants nothing to do with you until you fix your depression. You walk out of the school, start walking home, and suddenly get an uncontrollable urge to jump infront of a truck.

You force yourself to the ground, and message your american friend. They tell you that you are being an idiot and they would punch you if they were there.

You call your parents, who come immediately to pick you up from the side of the road. You talk to the suicide hotline about everything that has happened. You go to the hospital and repeat yourself to 3 more seporate people. You are pronounced minor risk and sent home

You dont go back to that school. You dont get accepted into a new school until 3 months later. In your time off, you start running and riding every day. You find a dog park with some nice people.

Your mental health is getting better. You go into your new school and complete all of term 1 and term 2 in the single term. You fail most of your first exams. Your teacher for your strongest subject tells you there is no way you can be an A student. Your OP prediction comes back as 17.

But you keep going. You go to the city every day to do your school work. Your grades get better. You feel better about yourself. By the end of the year, you are a straight A student. You get 2 awards. You get your OP back as 9. You get accepted into university early.

But you have to pay tuition upfront, so you defer 12 months. You start looking for a job. You print off 300 resumes. Over the next few months you use all of them. You walk in to every shop in a 11km radius of your house. You get a job at Subway.

This is your first time working, so you are slow. Your manager makes sure you know this. Every shift he tells you how much of an idiot you are. You give full availability and you are lucky to get more than 10 hours a week.

So you start looking for a job again. You get something for permanent part time, 25 hours per week. So you leave subway, and of course your boss literally begs you to stay.

After 2 weeks in your second job, which has standards higher than anywhere else you have been, you get fired for being too slow.

So you look for jobs again. You get one in a seafood place. It makes you always stink but the work is decent. Easter happens, it is so busy you get a panic attack and have to take a half when you would usually only take 15.

After easter, your boss tells you he doesnt need you anymore, and you are lucky to get one shift per week.

So you look again. An employer tells you to do a cert iii in food processing so you do. You never hear back from the employer.

You get a job at a pie shop. It is very close to home. You get 3 shifts a week, 3 hours each.

So you look again. You get a job in a cafe so you leave the pie shop.

The cafe job is good. You get 20+ hours a week and its reasonable work.

After a couple of months, you realise there is a new law coming in which makes uni fees 3x as much, so you get enrolled right away. There is a maths subject you want to get into but you have to take an entrance exam for it, which doesnt come up until nearly too late. You constantly make phone calls to the uni and they tell you that you probably arent good enough anyway. You end up acing the test.

You pay your tuition out of pocket and buy a 2300$ laptop. You are proud to get this far.

You start uni and it isnt what you expected. You love your maths and physics but your 2 engineering classes are a waste of time. You start worrying that you wasted your money.

You are either working or at uni 7 days a week most weeks. You start to feel overworked and tired.

You join a server for lgbt people, having questioned yours for a while. After a month you have a friend, a 32 year old guy who also loves fishing and your type of music. He makes you a moderator in the 5000 people server, and the owner just says "whatever you are cool". You end up contributing more than 80% of the other mods.

Your 18th birthday comes around. You go out on a boat fishing with your parents and a couple of friends, but they force you to invite their friends as well. The boat is overcrowded, cold, and the fishing is bad.

There is a girl in the server you really like, so you ask her out. She is thousands of miles away but you were sure you could make it work.

But your mental state has been declining again, and it is everything you can do to keep on top of it. You put off going back to therapy because you dont have time.

Your university studies have been getting more stressful as well, you have massive assignments to do in very little time. You are a perfectionist, and when you get a mark back of 74% you are gutted.

But you keep going. It gets closer to when your final assignments are due when your girlfriend says she is depressed because of something and has to be away for a while. You are worried for her and hate that you cant help.

Your other friend from the server hates her. Ever since you asked her out he would tell you that you are too pretty to be with her. While she is away you are talking to him and he tells you he wants to ban her. You tell him no and you go to warn her.

She has hated him the whole time too. But she gets really upset at what he said. You get into a fight about it and she breaks up with you.

She does it nicely, but you tell yourself its because you are not good enough for her. Your friend finds out and immediately starts hitting on you, so you tell him he is an asshole.

You see her seemingly fine the next day but you havent felt worse since you left your old school. You had stopped yourself from self harming for nearly 2 years, but you have now done it 3 times in 2 weeks.

Your mother calls you a bitch. Your boss tells you to harden up. You are back where you started, a loser with no friends and a bottomless pit of assignments.

Maybe it will get better when you finish university. But you cant keep going on like this for another 4 years.

At this point, you get social anxiety bad enough it stops you getting any new friends. You havent trusted a person in years. You probably never will again.

But all through it you keep going. You try to get over all of it. But it is a lot.