#they really are my band. like i need their music injected into my veins

[izel-scribbles]

starting to think lord huron doesn't have a single bad (imo) song because i'm going through their entire discography and i haven't found one i don't like

[effy-writes]

Addict (Blitz x Reader)

17: Unhappy Campers: A Year Ago

@d4rkprdise

~~~~

A Year Ago

"Tie it, asshole." You said to your dealer. The dealer tied the blue band around the arm, tapped your vein, and pierced the needle. You winced as he injected the meth into the blood stream.

"Oh fuck," You whispered, getting hit with instant euphoria. The dealer gently took out the needle and untied the blue band. "I feel so happy." You said softly, looking up at the ceiling.

"Haven't you been doing this since you were like 16?" He laughed.

"Ha! Yeah. My parents made me do it. Well, not meth, but the other shit. Then I got too addicted."

"You have a pretty face for someone to be addicted to meth."

"Is that a compliment?" You stood up and stretched before doing acrobatic routines.

"You sure are flexible." The dealer commented, tying up the blue band around his arm to inject H8.

"Thanks to the circus." You stood up on the wobbly table. "Who wants to get this party started!"

Everyone else in the living room cheered. Another guy turned up the music, while another turned off the lights. The only thing lighting up this room was the flashing led lights.

You danced like there was no tomorrow. Doing acrobatics on the table, screaming, cheering. You loved the heighten senses and the euphoria feeling. All problems goes away whenever stimulants is in your system. You don't have to think about what you did to Blitzo and Fizz, doesn't have to think about how Fizz is disabled, doesn't have to think that you became a drug addict since 14.

You tripped on your shoe laces and collapsed onto the couch with the dealer. "Why do you use H8? It sucks, makes you feel so droopy."

"It's better than being cracked out." The dealer scooted closer to you. "There's an orgy upstairs, you should join."

"Fuck no." You laughed.

"You always enjoy those."

"That was a one time thing because I needed money."

"You did it more than once." He joked.

"Yeah, for money. I don't like doing it." You frowned a bit.

"Whatever," He stood up. "Come join whenever you need to." The dealer walked upstairs.

You groaned before tying the blue band around your arm again, wanting more meth into your system. I don't want to get fucking reminded.

Tap, fist, inject, breathe, pull it out, untie. You exhaled, eyes shot open, and stood up. Your breathing intensified, heart beating uncontrollably, but the euphoria...oh the euphoria is what made it all better.

You opened the back door to get fresh air. The wind blowing on your face felt relaxing. You then remembered the time where you were about 14 or 15 (high on coke) Blitzo made you ride the ferris wheel with him. You didn't really mind them, but when high it was a different experience. The wind was blowing while they were riding it, both were laughing, swinging the seat, occasionally holding onto each other because the wind made the seat swing too much. It was one of the best memories for you.

Sure you miss Blitzo, but you know he's better off without you. The two of you haven't spoken to each other in about 14 years.

You instantly got hit with a crazy idea. You wanted to see if you can check yourself into rehab and then escape it. You got all of this built up energy you need to release.

You took off in the middle of the night. Your shoes slamming onto the ground as you ran to the closest rehab center.

Since you didn't have a car, you had to take a bus to the Sloth ring because it's Hell, there's hardly any rehab centers.

You kicked the doors open and ran over to the counter.

"I would like to check myself in please." Your smile gotten bigger.

The receptionist looked at you confused. "Uh..you?"

"Yep!"

"Are you on anything?"

"Meth. Like right now." You laughed. "Come on let me in here!" So I can try to break out.

~~

"Barbie you have a new roommate." The nurse let you walk in.

"Y/n?!"

"Barbie!? Holy shit!" You laughed.

"I take it that you two know each other. Anyway, don't kill each other." The woman left.

Barbie walked over to you and pulled you into a hug. "I missed you, you asshole."

"It's been so long! How have you been? Well obviously not good because you're in here."

"You're on meth aren't you?" Barbie pulled away and crossed her arms.

"Uh yeah. Anyway I'm gonna try to break out."

"Why? You just checked yourself in."

"So I can see if I can escape! Girl I got so much energy right now I bet you I can kick that door down." You laughed. "You should come with me!"

"No..I'm good. I need to stay."

"Oh. Well...what's been going on with you? And can you make it quick I really wanna see if I can escape. But I do miss you sooo."

"Forget it. I'm still pissed at you for getting hooked and leaving the circus. We tried calling you Y/n!"

"I know...but-" Your eyes widened in realization. "Blitzo! Holy shit I haven't seen him in years!" You smiled. "Damn we were so close too."

"Just chill the fuck out. I guess we'll talk once you're sober enough. I'm surprised they didn't give you narcan."

"Oh it's because a fuck ton of people just overdosed while that vagina face was showing me to my room. Speaking of, I'm gonna leave so, bye!"

Barbie stopped liking you whenever you started to do harder drugs back in the circus. It was annoying to her watch you bounce up on the walls and talk crazy fast. That's honestly why Barbie preferred to do downers. She got offered stimulants many times but she didn't want to end up like you.

You ran out the room and ran into a taller succubus. "Watch it!"

"Verosika? It's a fucking reunion!" You shouted. "Didn't know they let pop stars be in here."

"Uh who are you?"

"Y/n."

"I'm just gonna call you crack head." She said in a teasing laughter.

"Fuck you too then." You scoffed. "Have fun being in here. I'm getting out."

You ran through the maze of hallways before finding the exit. Heart pounding out of your chest as you were getting closer and closer.

You felt your collar being tugged on, "Let me go, you freak!"

"You're not leaving." A hellhound nurse said.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because you seriously need help."

"No I don't. I don't need help." You glared.

The hellhound, still holding you by your collar, took you back to the room.

Barbie chuckled, "Guess you can't break out."

The hellhound sat you down on the bed, "Lay down."

You obliged, laying down on the hard bed. "What are you doing?"

The hellhound nurse pulled out a red box from his pocket and opened it up. He took out a needle and moved your shirt down to where he could easily inject it into your chest.

"Whoa whoa whoa! What the fuck are you doing?"

"Narcan. We need to sober you up."

"Wait-Gah! Fuck!" You hissed.

Your eyelids became droopy, fatigued washed over you. "You bitch." You mumbled.

Sober you looked around. "I want to leave! I regret this! I was just cracked out please let me leave." You pleaded.

The hellhound shook his head in sympathy. "Sorry man, you need help." He said before walking away and closing the door.

"Well...what has your life been like?" You laid back down on the bed, drooling a bit.

"Been like shit. Ya know, because Blitzo started the fire."

"He did?" You said, confused.

"He got jealous at Fizz and started the fire. He killed our mom." Her eyes watered.

"Barbie..I had no idea. I mean, I knew what happened but I didn't know he caused it." You softly said.

"Ever since then I got hooked on H8. Blitzo knows about it and he wants to help but I don't ever want to see his face."

"Him and I were best friends. I haven't seen him in 14 years."

"I was pissed off at you for becoming a drug addict. But now since I am I can't really be mad at you."

You chuckled, "Yeah...I am sorry for leaving the circus and then ghosting everyone."

"At least you didn't start the fire."

"I guess so..." You kept quiet.

"What about you? What happened after you left?"

"Went to my dealers house and lived with him. Still am living there but I guess not anymore since I'm here." You rolled your eyes.

"Are you planning on going back to his house?"

"I don't exactly know. Living there is an absolute nightmare when I'm sober. But when I'm high I don't have a care in a world."

~~

Two months later you were finally able to leave, but Barbie was still in there whenever you left.

You didn't want to go back to that house, you were miserable there. You ended up on the streets for a couple of weeks, living in alleyways next to all of the other homeless people.

At first you tried to stay clean, but ended up shooting up meth a day later.

On the second week you tried to stay clean again. You realized that you can't stay on the streets any longer without getting harassed, hurt, or raped. So you pulled out your phone, and called Blitzo.

~~~

You sat on the couch at I.M.P, listening to the sinner that was speaking to Millie and Moxxie.

Blitz came rushing in, covered in bush leaves, bruises and dirt. You looked at him confused as you got up and followed him to his office.

"Shit, are you okay?"

"I know you and Barb were in rehab together. Do you have any idea where she might be?" His eyebrows furrowed.

You got taken back. "No, is she out now?"

"Apparently she checked herself out months ago. You sure you don't know where she might be at?"

"Blitz, I'm sure. Are you trying to find her?"

Moxxie interrupted the two's conversation. "Uh, pardon moi, sir."

"Not now, Mox."

"Sir, there's a client that needs us to investigate his death, and we don't usually-"

"No tiiiime"

"But, sir, we really need the cashflow, and I was thinking maybe-"

"What part of "NO. FUCKING. TIIIIIIIME." do you not understand? Just handle it yourself."

"You want me to lead? On a hit?"

"I swear on all that is evil, Mox! If you aren't out of my office in negative," He slammed his fist on the table. "three seconds-"

"Youuu GOT IT, sir!" Moxxie slammed the door shut.

Blitz pulled out a notary card and flipped through it. "I want you to come with me to find Barb."

"Really? Why?"

"Well because you two were in rehab together and you didn't ask her where she's living or where she might be." He spat.

"Blitz I told you many times I left wayyyy before she did. How was I supposed to know where she might went? I was so miserable there. I checked myself in while I was high on meth thinking I could escape. I didn't actually want to be sober and be there. We barely talked!"

"Fuck it. Don't help me, I can do this shit on my own." He spat.

You sighed and sat on the table, "I want to help. But I also don't want you to get mad at me for not knowing where she is."

He stayed silent.

"What do we do now?"

Blitz opened up his computer and searched up Barbie on social media. You leaned over the desk to look.

Barbie's profile didn't change much. There was no indication of where she might be.

"Check her occupation, sometimes people post where they work." You pointed out.

Blitz scrolled down and saw that her occupation was working at a pharmaceutical store. He stood up, you following him out of I.M.P and inside his van.

"You think she's gonna be there?" You fastened your seat belt.

"Better be." He mumbled. "Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"Whenever we were roommates she said she didn't like you that much because of the fire." You said with sympathy.

Blitz heavily sighed and rubbed his temples. "It wasn't my fault." He mumbled.

The two kept quiet while Blitz drove to the pharmaceutical store.

The van came into a drastic stop and the two got out and entered the store.

The pharmacist notices Blitz as he stops by the counter and brings up his phone to show the pharmacist the photo of his sister.

"Hi, I'm lookin for one of your employees, her name is Barbie. Does she work here?"

The pharmacist raised his eyebrow, confused of who Blitz was or why he was doing here.

"Wait, what? Who are you?"

Blitz grabs the pharmacist by his collar and pulls him over the desk before slamming him hard against the wall. He growls out of frustration and slams him again.

"Someone who's gonna get reeeal creative if you don't tell him what he wants!"

Blitz uses his tail to slap the pharmacist repeatedly to leave bruises on his cheek.

"Where is she, fucknut? I know you know! It only gets worse from here, asshole!"

"Okay Blitz, I think that's enough-"

"Shut the fuck up!" He turned his head towards you.

You looked at him with shock and took a step back. Holy shit.

Blitz slaps the pharmacist multiple times before he finally gave up.

"Okay! Okay! She's out on a pickup!"

"Where?"

"In the Gluttony Ring! I don't know where exactly! I swear!"

Blitz grumbled and dropped the pharmacist. He pushed opened the doors to leave, you following behind him once again.

"Don't even think about getting drugs from here."  Blitz spat, putting the key in the ignition to turn the car on.

"Wasn't planning on it." You mumbled. "Were you this adamant about finding me?"

"Huh?" He got caught off guard.

"Did you try to find me?"

"Why are you asking?"

You shrugged. "Just wondering."

Blitz gathered the words of what he was going today, "For a short while. I tried calling but you didn't pick up. I asked your parents and they said you never came home." He sighed. "I was worried shitless. And now I have to do it all over again for my fucking sister."

You rested your hand on his upper knee, gently rubbing it to try to sooth him. "I'm sorry."

Blitz didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on the road.

They went all the way to the Gluttony ring and asked around but nobody saw her.

"What about Beezlebub? Should we ask her?" You suggested.

"Wouldn't hurt. But Y/n I swear I will punch you if you get drugs from her."

"Wasn't planning on it."

You and Blitz stood outside the golden gates and knocked on her door. A couple of minutes later a familiar hellhound opened the door.

"Blitz! Hey man! And Y/n nice to see you two." Tex answered.

"Yeah, yeah, is your girlfriend here? I need to ask her something."

"Yeah, come on in. Haven't seen you two since the party. Y/n you're looking better." Tex let the two imps inside.

"Blitz had to give me narcan. Almost died." You chuckled, Blitz just glared.

"Oh shit." Tex laughed. "Babe! These two imps want to talk to you!" He shouted for his girlfriend.

Beezlebub flew down and squealed. "Y/n! Holy shit girl I miss you!" She pulled you into a hug. "You doing good?"

"Yeah, I am." Before you could say anything else Blitz shoved his phone in Beezlebub's face.

"Have you seen Barbie?"

Beezlebub looked closer, "She looks familiar. I think she gave me some of her drugs for one of my party's kinda recently."

"Do you know where she might be?"

"Maybe Lust? She asked me about Asmodeus, kinda forgot what for because I was hella drunk." She giggled.

"Ugh not him. Anyway, thanks." Blitz grabbed your hand and left Beezlebub's house.

"Goodluck!" She yelled out.

~~

"Blitz, we've been wondering around Lust for almost a whole week." You whined. "Can we please ask him?"

"No. I do not want to see him or Fizz."

"What about me? I can ask."

"Y/n, Fizz hated you as much as I did whenever you left."

You frowned.

"I don't hate you anymore. Look, let's just ask around some more, please."

"Wait, I thought you said you never hated me." You glared.

"At first I did, but only for like a week."

Asshole.

You walked with Blitz. Getting dark as the hours went by and your feet was blistering up.

The two found a dark alley way with some people smoking out of crack pipe. You felt uneasy, wanting to relapse.

"Hey, have you seen her?" Blitz showed them his phone.

"Yeah, man! I used to deal H8 to her!" The male imp said.

You got a closer look, recognizing that face and voice from anywhere. "Oh shit." You mumbled.

The guy looked over at you, "Y/n?" He smiled and pulled you into a hug. "It's been like what? A year?"

"You know him?" Blitz asked you.

"Yeah..he used to be my dealer.."

"What?! Did you know he dealed to Barb?"

"No! I swear! She didn't live at the house so I didn't know!"

"Whoa, whoa, this is Blitzo? You use to talk about him alll the time." The dealer laughed.

"O is silent now, asshole. Anyway where is Barb?" Blitz got closer to him.

"Probably with Jack. I saw her one time with him and he gave her some crystal to go to the human world or something."

"Where is he?"

"Probably couple blocks that way." He pointed.

"Fuck you for selling to Y/n and Barb." He gritted his teeth before grabbing your hand.

"I take it you're clean now?" The dealer asked.

"Yeah. Trying to, anyway."

"Good for you, man."

Blitz forcefully pulled you away. "You lived with that guy for years and didn't know he sold to Barbie?"

"Dude, I promise I didn't know! I only knew him and the people at the house."

Blitz still held your hand, gripping it as they pass through every drug ridden alleyway.

"Why are you holding my hand?"

"So you don't run off and get drugs."

"Kinda hurts that you don't trust me."

"Yeah, well it's because I don't." He jabbed.

You were too stunned to speak. Eventually they made it to the right alleyway and to their luck they found Jack.

"You Jack?" Blitz walked up to the imp.

"Yeah, you need anything?"

Blitz let go of your hand and grabbed Jack by the neck.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what, man?" He groaned.

"The fucking crystal!"

He shoves the dealer against the wall.

"It's here man, I swear!"

Blitz took out his pistol from his back pocket and planted it under Jack's chin.

"Open it."

Jack did what he was told and takes out an Asmodean Crystal. He shoots a beam behind Blitz and a crystal mirror portal opens up.

"Thanks."

Blitz throws Jack into a nearby dumpster and held your hand again before entering the portal to Earth. The two walked through and hid in a bush.

"She better be here, Y/n." He mumbled.

The two crawled onto the ground and heard a familiar yell.

You turned your head and saw Moxxie on top of Blitz.

"What in the- SIR?!"

"MOXXIE?!" Blitz shoved Moxxie off. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Trying to finish the job you gave me!"

"Christ on a stick, you're still working on that? It's been like a fucking week. THIS is why I don't trust you with dick, Mox."

Blitz walked towards the shack, you and Moxxie following behind.

"And what exactly are you two doing here, sir?"

"Apparently, helping finish your botched job...But, mostly I'm looking for my sister."

Blitz stands back and kicks the door open with a loud slam. "BARBIE!"

"BLITZ?!"

"You know her?!"

"Do I know her? That's my sister, fuckface!"

"Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" Barbie pointed at you. "And what the fuck are you doing here, shithead?" Barbie said to Blitz before turning back to you. "why are you with him?"

"I ended up living with him after I left rehab...didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Barbie, I should be asking you the same thing! You check yourself out of rehab, no call, no note, and I have to track you down to this shithole with... Who the fuck is this?"

"No one! He works for me. And who's the little twink here?"

"No one... He works for me."

"Sir, that guy's the target!"

"Oh, shit, Barb! Looks like your little boy toy got himself into some trouble." Blitz laughed.

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"He killed our client, and now our client wants to kill him back." Moxxie recalled.

"You fucking WHAT?!"

"He found out about your drugs." He shrugged.

"I don't want to fucking hear it, kid." She pointed to the three imps. "Look, you're not killing my supplier!"

"Oh, fuck... supplier of what? You're not back on that H8 are you?"

"Fuck, no! It's just heroin."

"Oh. Thank, Satan."

"I thought you were mad at Y/n for getting addicted to meth and leaving the circus? Thought you hated her?" Barbie crossed her arms.

Blitz glanced at you and then back at his sister. "Not anymore. She stayed clean, for the most part. And wait, now you're peddling heroin? What's the point? That shit barely gets rid of a headache."

"It's honest work, okay? And I thought it would be sure to keep me as far away from you as possible."

Moxxie pulled out a knife. "And you teamed up with genius here because...?"

"Do you have any idea how easy teenage humans are to manipulate?"

"Heeey! No, I'm not!"

Barbie turns her head with sad eyes. "Oh, Jimmy-wimmy, can you pwease keep loading up deez druggie-wuggies for me?" She slightly bent over to show him her underwear.

"Heh. Sure, Barb. Whatever you say." He went back to load the heroin on the boat.

"Sir... I've spent a week on this...I'm finishing it, one way, or another..."

Before Moxxie could move to kill Jimmy, Barbie comes up to his face with a snarling growl and ferocious glare bearing down at Moxxie.

"Don't you dare!"

Moxxie charges at Jimmy and then brought up his knife to stab the guy, but just before he could, Barbie caught Moxxie before throwing him over, making him crash into the boat that was inside the shed.

Barbie uses the crystal to turn herself back into her imp form, "Come on, Blitzo, haven't you fucked my life up enough already?"

You pulled out your new contractible metal pole that Blitz made so you can fit it into your pockets without losing it again.

"Really? After two months of me telling you how much I hate Blitz you're working with him? You're a fucking bitch." Barbie spat.

"Barbie, he didn't mean it-"

"I don't care! What happened, had happened."

Moxxie got out of the water and launched towards Jimmy, but Barbie kept pulling Moxxie away from him.

I.M.P tried to make moves to kill Jimmy, but Barbie would always end up getting in the way to keep them from killing him.

Blitz and Moxxie held onto Barbie tightly so she wouldn't escape, while you swung the pole to hit his legs so he wouldn't run.

Barbie managed to get out of their grip and launched herself, pinning you down.

Blitz pulled out a gun and was getting ready to fire but Barbie used her tail to knock it out of his hands.

You held onto Barbie and rolled her to where you're on top of her. "If I can get clean so can you, I promise."

"You have no say in this. You purposely checked yourself into rehab so you could escape because your meth head told yourself you could do it."

"Wait, what?" Moxxie questioned.

Barbie laughed and used her tail to pull you off by your hair.

You quickly stood back up and picked up the pole to hit Barbie but she ducked, while Blitz and Moxxie was trying to kill off Jimmy.

The four imps ran around the shack, trying to kill off Jimmy while Barbie is trying to prevent it.

In a split second a firework went off and completely demolished Jimmy, blood splattering everywhere.

The four imps looked at each other in shock.

"SATAN FUCKING DAMNIT!!! Thanks a lot, Blitzo, I'm out of a job! FUCK!"

"Barb, wait! I want to help you- Let me help you, please? You're clean now, right? Let's... grab dinner, we'll catch up, and we'll talk about-"

Barbie let out a roar of laughter. "You don't fucking GET IT! Just cause I'm outta rehab doesn't mean I wanna see you! I NEVER wanna see you, EVER! And Y/n...fuck you for being with him."

Barbie opened up the portal with the crystal.  "Next time you want to find me, Blitzo, DON'T!" She entered the portal before closing up.

"I'm gonna go see Millie...You okay?" Moxxie put his hand on Blitz's shoulder.

"I'm fine." He gritted.

Moxxie reluctantly took his hand off and left the shack, leaving you and Blitz alone.

You turned towards Blitz, "I'm sorry about...everything."

"Don't be. Let's go." He said with a harsh tone.

~~~

I.M.P. made it back to the headquarters, all sitting at the table and watching the news talking about how Millie and Moxxie committed incest.

"Gonna be honest, Moxxie- Not too bad for your first solo mission."

"Reeeeeally, siiiir?" He beamed.

"Nooo, no, not really. You're a fucking disgrace."

Moxxie frowned while Millie giggled, resting her head on his shoulder.

You got up from the table and went to the bathroom, sitting on the floor and rested your head against the wall. You pulled your knees in close. Shit..I want to get high so bad.

You sighed and lightly hit the back of your head against the wall. Hearing the door knock, you jerked.

"You okay in there?" Blitz said from the other side.

"Yeah."

"....Can I come in?"

With hesitant you unlocked the door and let him in. The two sat down beside of each other.

"I can tell you want to relapse."

You raised an eyebrow, "You do?"

"I know you. Just don't..please? I can't handle it. Especially not now."

You softly smiled. "I'm not going to."

Blitz pulled you closer to him, "I'm glad you called me a year ago. I'm so fucking glad you called."

[superblysubpar]

get to know me questions!

thank you for the tag @aftermidnightwriting 💛

tea or coffee? coffee all the way! Drink it all day long - I can drink it almost black now, usually a little cinnamon and brown sugar stirred in. I do love matcha tea and iced tea with lemon, trying to become a tea drinker but they all taste the same to me.

dogs or cats? dogs! I am allergic to cats, so I think that's made me a little biased - but dogs are too good for this world. We don't deserve them.

can you play an instrument? Do air instruments count? Cause when I'm listening to music, I am the lead singer, guitar, and drums lol. But, no I wish! my husband plays guitar and I have a goal to learn, and I always wanted to learn piano too. I was a choir/theater kid not a band one.

what's your sign? My sun sign is Virgo (my moon is Sagittarius, I'm pretty sure my rising is also Sagittarius? I really want to learn more about astrology!)

favorite lyrics that pop into your head?

oh gosh....hmm well "Keep Your Head Up" by Djo lives in my brain all day every day. I replay that song over and over again - it makes me feel better no matter what. Particularly: "Something special in you everyone will see in time. Got to keep your head up" and that jazzy part at 2:18 that I wish I could literally bottle up and inject into my veins.

But here's some that I love so much I'm getting tattooed on my body:

"I am stronger than you know." - Leather & Lace by Stevie Nicks

"Don't stop thinking about tomorrow." - Don't Stop by Fleetwood Mac

"This world needs you." - I Want Your Video by Djo

"Just trust me you'll be fine." - End of Beginning by Djo

"There's a better me, I swear." / "A change that I can see." - Half Life and Change by Djo

do you have tattoos? I do! I have two right now but like twelve that I want, hoping to get started on a few of them in the next several weeks.

favorite place you've ever traveled? I'm trying to think of a place that's totally wowed me - I go on a roadtrip almost every summer and I've been to 48 of the 50 states...I think the places that come to mind where I just took a minute and appreciated it all were the grand canyon and bryce canyon. The Grand Canyon - we slept in our car and woke up at this overlook and I saw the sunrise with no other people around over the canyon. CRAZY BEAUTIFUL. Bryce Canyon in Utah is just one of the coolest places, the landscape and nature changes throughout the hiking - pine trees and then suddenly beautiful orange rock and it's just hard to describe...

what's the last movie you watched? I just watched Zathura last night!

what languages do you speak? sadly, only English. I could introduce myself in Spanish - a few words here and there, but I'd love to learn more.

do you have any hobbies? I love reading and writing, photography - anything artsy really just drawing or painting, but photography is my main one. I love baking - particularly cinnamon rolls, and hiking/being outdoors.

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? this is cruel...how do I pick one...Spiderman.

compliment yourself: ha...um....you know what I'm gonna give myself two. A physical and a personality one because we deserve to love ourselves: I love my strong legs (14 years of dance baybee!) and I have a good 'never give up' attitude, resilient - for a pessimist I'm pretty optimistic.

[chiisana-lion]

@hitsuyou-fukaketsu​ ok rolling up my sleeves rn. first off im pretty sure i already recommended this one but it really is good and one of my all time favorites now so ill rec it again kininatteru hito ga otoko jyanakatta is so everything to me its abt a gyaru and the girl sitting next to her thats actually the “guy” from the CD shop she frequents that she’s been crushing on for a while!! they both love rock music and its rly cute i love the artstyle so much too

really recommend the moon on a rainy night too!! its about a girl who likes piano and her deaf classmate who used to play, her disability gets treated respectfully in writing and all the conflicts in it feel real, its pretty sweet

liked whisper me a love song a lot too, 1st year girl who “fell in love” w her senior after seeing her perform in her rock band (also mc is really arospec to me its a good one)

one of my personal favorites is hana ni arashi, honestly its just ur run of the mill wholesome manga but i love the artstyle and its just cute for if you need an injection of fluff right into the veins 👍

i love amy is a really good psychological manhwa!! pretty rich girl wants to get close to the guy she likes and gets help from another girl who just happens to interact with him often, they become friends but it maybe ends up a bit more than that from one or both sides

hanamonogatari is a cute one, love old woman yuri o7 theres only 2 chapters as of right now i believe though

honorary mention since its Technically listed as a BL but on my hands and knees please read crossplay love. its soooo good these two guys are unknowingly crushing on each other and both dress up as girls in order to get close to each other its a really fun romcom i liked it more than i imagined i would kdsjkgjkdhs guys will say yeah im definitely cis and straight and then literally be in a trans lesbian relationship

enjoy o7

Where are the girls loving each other rb where wher

you mean the GL recs?? that was thru discord to another pal of mine but if you want i can send some to you too assuming you hadnt already read them akshdkshshs

[anika-ann]

A Cup of Truth (S.R)

Type: One-shot, a bit of coffee shop AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 3000

Summary: Your favourite pretty blond comes in every day to get a cup of good ol�� joe. You flirt on occasion; mostly you, because your suit of armour – which people boringly call an apron – and his smiles give you confidence.

When the band of dumb goons picks your damn workplace to attack, your confidence flies out of the window. Well. Good thing that the resident Avenger heroes save the day including the one in his all-American star-spangled glory.

Prompt: “You can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere.” (Bold in the text)

Warnings: hostage situation, violence, non-consensual drug use/injected, hospitals, slightly crack-ish humour (?) and some fluff

A/N: For marvelcapsicle’s challenge. Thank you for letting me participate, darling, may you gain more and more sweet followers in the future ♥

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Here’s a thing: Steve Rogers had a lot of fight in him. Before or after injected with the serum, no matter his shirt size, no matter if he could swing his fists effectively or not, he would punch bullies in their face.

When it came to people close to his heart, that rule amplified tenfold. No one touched the people he cared for. And while he would not necessarily call all of them friends, he would go rabid should any harm come their way.

To be fair, the list of ‘his people’ who were still alive wasn’t long; he could almost count them on the fingers of one hand. Tony. Natasha. Clint. Thor. Bruce. Probably Fury. Really, his circle was a bit monotonous, people who could protect themselves just fine at most times, but simultaneously with high-risk job of being the first defence line for the world’s greatest threats.

And then there was you.

You, with your inviting smile whenever he appeared at your counter at the café he had discovered during his endless walks.

You, handing him a drink different to his usual ‘boring’ cup of joe once a week, because that was the deal you had offered and Steve, caught in his curiosity about today’s world and your adorable challenging expression, agreed.

You, with your pretty eyes, irises twinkling at his attempts at flirting, no matter how awkward and out-of-time they sounded, graciously returning the favour… if he was reading the situation right.

You, always grinning wide when discovering a doodle he had left on his napkin, taking it with you back to the counter.

You, blissfully unaware of his double life, genuine in your demeanour, dealing with plain old Steve Rogers, and perfectly safe; at least as safe as one could be on Manhattan.

You in a headlock, as five rogue SHIELD agents decided to crash into the café you worked at of all the damn places, choosing it with deadly precision and nearly driving the poor Captain America into a cardiac arrest.

Not that you had any idea your life mattered to the proclaimed Star-Spangled Man more than anyone else’s. You were the exception to the rule; you were the precious outsider Steve caught feelings for, the one that was not supposed to learn about his other persona for at least a while longer and sure as hell was not supposed to get herself in a mess like this one.

Steve stood frozen as Natasha had two men at gunpoint, Clint fighting another, the last one having been already knocked down by Steve himself. The only injured people were the few customers, scarce at the hour, and the employees; some bruises and insignificant bleeding wounds between all of them.

The worst problem still remained; Perez had his arm around your neck, visibly squeezing your windpipe at least partly if the colour of your face – one stained in tears and Steve could kill at the moment, kill with no remorse – was anything to go by.

He gripped his shield tighter, staring the man down with his jaw clenched and his heart beating its way out of his chest, the syringe at your carotid scaring him more than the reduced airflow to your lungs.

��It’s over, Perez! Let her- let the woman go,” Steve howled, knees slightly bend in posture allowing him to spring forward at any second, to throw his weapon, to punch the living daylight of the bastard that not only betrayed SHIELD, but put his hands on you.

Big, big mistake. He really shouldn’t have done that.

“I like her exactly where she is, Cap,” Perez snarled, a wicked smile on his bloody lips, only his eyes giving away a fraction of his fear. “Move and she gets a ticket straight to hell.”

Perez was outnumbered and he knew it; even if he managed to escape, they would find him easily with Tony Stark’s system of surveillance. Yet, he tightened his grip and with you involuntarily acting like a human shield for him, he started backing away, gaze flickering between the three present Avengers.

Natasha’s right arm twitched as if she wanted to shoot him on spot – but she didn’t want to risk leaving the other two without the threat of immediate death for even a second.

And then several things happened at once; Clint knocked his opponent down with the construction of his bow; Perez who saw it lost his nerve and swiftly slammed the needle into your neck, piercing your skin easily, as easily as Steve’s panicked shout ripped from his throat.

The next second, an arrow was sticking from Perez’ shoulder as he jerked back with a cry of pain and Clint put another arrow through his hand, adding one to his thigh for a good measure. Two gunshots sounded in the background, Natasha’s aim as unmistakable as ever.

Perez fell to the ground with a scream, not even reaching for the gun in his holster before Steve was there to knock him out with a brutal hit straight to his face with his vibranium shield. The crack sounding at the impact was like music to Steve’s ears, the blood spurting from Perez’ nose a pleasant visual.

Yet, it didn’t feel half as satisfactory as Steve hoped as you had stumbled and toppled over your own feet. He barely managed to slow down your fall, gloved palm shooting up under the spot between your shoulder blades, his other hand holding your shoulder. He supported your enfeebled weight as you practically lied over the unconscious man.

Steve didn’t bother paying attention to his surroundings, knowing that the noise around him was Romanoff and Barton apprehending the remaining thugs. Instead, his gaze scanned you head to toe, focusing on your face and neck when he couldn’t find any other injury.

You were pale, eyes misted, unfocused, skin worryingly cold to his touch.

“Hey-- hey! Can you hear me?” Steve demanded urgently, lightly patting your cheek.

At that, your pupils zeroed on him, wide with disbelief, and to his immense shock, a lazy smile spread on your lips.

“Steve?” you breathed out his name and blood crystalized in his veins, his heart, already panicking, speeding up. How did you know his name? Perhaps the drug, the whatever liquid in the syringe was taking effect and you were turning delirious? Shit, they needed a doctor-- “You���re the pretty blond. Steve. My flirty Steve… my hero. Everyone’s hero.”

Steve’s horror escalated with each word. Good news: you were still breathing and apparently quite lucid, even if your speech was more of a mumble. Bad news: his secret identity just blew up.

Luckily, he considered the good news much more important; and lucid he would like to keep you, so he shot Natasha and Clint a meaningful glare, wordlessly asking them to call help. He wasn’t sure whether it registered because both of the spies were staring at him wide-eyed as the woman in his arms just outed him like the café’s regular… one that flirted with her, no less.

Steve cleared his throat, focusing on his mission – to keep you talking. There was no much point in denying it, was it?

“Eh... yeah, it’s me. How-how did you know? I wear a mask-“

“Muscly… real muscly… and that ass,” you muttered and Steve nearly choked on his spit, certain that he just turned red all over, including the area you pointed out.

Wait, did that mean that you had been checking him out?

So not important right now.

“Oh, uhm- how are you feeling? We have to-“

“You can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere,” you continued babbling as if you hadn’t heard him and Steve gulped, feeling his teammates, who still hadn’t called a doctor, what the actual hell- watching you with interest. ”…could bounce a penny off it… no, that ain’t right, a quarter off of it, that’s it… Dream of it sometimes… biting-“

Clint coughed loudly to cover his laughter, finally springing into action after that uncomfortable remark that gave Steve quite a visual he wasn’t sure how he felt about just yet.

“Alright, as amusing as this is, we should get her some medical attention…”

Steve only took his eyes off of you for a moment, shooting Barton a look that screamed ‘You think?!’

“I want to touch it… please lemme touch it—just once,” you pleaded quietly, swaying even in your practically horizontal position, straining your neck to catch a glimpse of the object of your interest. “The best I’ve even seen-“

“I think it’s ethanol she got injected with…” Natasha announced, sniffing the syringe with disgust in her voice. “High concentration.”

And Steve felt like he just got hit by Thor’s hammer… in his head. Seriously?

“…alcohol?” he asked, dumbstruck and utterly relieved, the heavy weight in his stomach lifting a bit. “You think she’s merely… drunk?”

“Well, alcohol straight to the bloodstream is seriously nasty on its own, S-“

“Alcohol nasty, yesss. And this really hurts,” your voice interrupted Natasha and Steve’s heart clenched uncomfortably when the surprised grimace appeared on your face, your eyes indeed clouding in pain, looking up at him, doe-eyed, so vulnerable and trusting.

“Hey, no sad Steeb! Your eyes pretty too. Little pictures you draw… so suuuper cute. I like your hair. You came in the day, wind blew, so messy-- like bed hair, wanna try top that-- I betcha I can do better-“

“Sounds drunk enough to you?” Natasha hummed casually and Steve didn’t even have to look at her to know she was smirking, while he was both fretting over your state and blushing to the roots of his hair because of your blunt compliments and unfiltered fantasies.

You turned your head slowly to Nat as she spoke, a crooked grin curling up your lips. “Hey, you’re pretty too-“

Much to Steve’s annoyance, the Russian spy had the audacity to chuckle and wink at you.

“Why thank you-“

“But prefer blonds,” you babbled again, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “He’s real nice. His biceps are like… huge. Bigger than my head-- ow, my head… spi-spinning- I think-? Whoa— oh… “

Steve called out your name in panic as you went limp in his arms, your body pliant, folding like a house of cards.

“I like her,” Clint noted as he jogged to Steve’s side, kneeling to take your pulse on the unharmed carotid with a furrow to his brows. “The medics are on their way, she’ll hold on until then.”

Steve sighed in relief when Clint nodded in affirmation again, feeling your heart still beating.

Steve’s grip on your tightened, hand sliding behind your head to cradle it gently rather than letting it dangle in such unnatural angle. He manoeuvred it so your cheek rested against his chest, his newly free hand sneaking under your knees so he could lift you with ease as he stood up.

“Nice, Rogers. Keep going like this, squads with weights, and you’ll keep that exceptional ass of yours in shape,” Natasha teased him, but when he turned to glare at her, she gave him a soft smile and beckoned towards your nearly motionless body. “She’ll be okay. Let’s go get her some help.”

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Your head was pounding. The right side of your neck was itchy as hell and felt extremely stiff. The beeping sounding in your ears was a thing from nightmares, echoing in your aching skull.

You felt like shit and honestly, you could cry when you tried to open your eyes and the sharp light hit them, making you swiftly close them again.

A realization slowly crept at you that there was a presence of an intrusive smell too, making you want to puke— or was that just the brutal hangover? Because you felt unbelievably hungover on top of everything. The world seemed to be spinning even behind your closed eyelids and you couldn’t but groan, deciding to only curse the universe mentally since your throat resembled a Sahara Desert.

“Oh, hey gorgeous,” a female voice greeted you from your left and you snapped your eyes open with a startle, staring with shock at the beautiful redhead sitting by your bedside.

For few long seconds, you wondered if you died and went to heaven, because there was a non-descript angelic-like creature watching over you.  You quickly brushed that thought aside, because there was no way Heaven looked like a hospital room and provided you with such shitty sensations attacking your poor body.

So you asked the only logical question, ignoring the dryness of your mouth which soon cause you to cough.

“…who are you?”

A plastic cup with a heavenly cold liquid landed in front of you, the straw sticking from it directed to your lips as the stunning woman frowned discontentedly.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” she asked, seemingly hurt. “My heart is breaking! You told me I was pretty.”

You blinked slowly, finally adjusting to the light, finally able to talk without pain (that much pain, that was) and your head started pounding some more, embarrassment filling every fibre of your being.

What the- oh god, you had really got drunk, hadn’t you, and now you had a total blackout on what you had been up to in your questionable state.

“Eeeer… I did? I mean, you are… but-“

“But you prefer blonds, yeah, I know,” the mysterious woman finished your sentence to her liking and your eyes went wide. How did she- and who was she again, sitting in your hospital room like that? Had you really got so smashed that you didn’t remember her when you should have? When had you met? Shit, your mind was so foggy… “And you think Steve’s a bit prettier. And his ass is the best you’ve ever seen, so I get it…”

“The hell?!” you squealed in utter horror, sitting up straight as the words registered, a flash of blue, red and white flickering in the back of your mind, followed by a sharp stung in your temples. A nauseatingly strong pain resembling an intense cramp – only like ten times worse – shot up your neck as you moved so quickly, ripping a startled yelp from your throat.

A hazy image of the café you worked at blended into a picture Steve’s beautiful eyes – did this woman know your regular, your handsome flirty blond regular? –, sensation of gentle hands cradling your jaw, a sting in your neck—

“You need to be careful with how much you move. Your neck took quite a hit, they had to perform a surgery on you, you got a transfusion. They worried about your brain too. They’ve been monitoring you for four days now and this is the first time you’re awake,” your stranger explained patiently, voice full of compassion.

Your hand involuntarily rose to massage the incriminated place, still unsure of what the woman was talking about, the images in your brain confusing the hell out of you. You still had no idea who she was, but her face was starting to feel a bit familiar – you assumed that whatever had happened, she had been there too, possibly helping you.

And there was something in her green eyes, cautious yet somewhat calming, making it easy to trust her for some inexplicable reason.

“Steve’s gonna be pissed at me for missing it,” she added and grinned. “I made him leave to take care of himself before he could actually start taking roots in here. He’s been worried too. A lot.”

The amount of question marks in your head just doubled, but at the same time, your heart fluttered. Steve had visited you? Often, apparently? That was really, really sweet of him. The thought of him guarding you – and didn’t he have a physique of a bodyguard, once mentioning he was in private security when asked –, brought a dreamy smile to your face.

Perhaps it wasn’t only about flirting for him either…?

“Keep looking so lovestruck and I might forgive him that he hasn’t mention you before. Though I guess I can’t blame him, wanting to keep— anyway. I’m Natasha. Nice to meet you,” she extended her hand towards you at last and you automatically accepted it, telling her your name in return.

Even though that was probably beside the point seeing as she had been found at your bedside in a hospital.

“Hi, Natasha. Nice to meet you too… I think.”

The redhead burst out into a quiet laughter at your hesitance. “Fair enough. After Steve comes back and explains what exactly happened – because it’s not quite my place to tell you –, call me back for the good details. It’s fun to make him blush.”

Despite just only having met this woman, you decided that you kinda liked her and nodded in acceptance of her offer. Steve might be sweet – perhaps even sweet on you it seemed – but some harmless teasing could never hurt. Not when it apparently had something to do with his glorious ass.

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Here’s a thing: Steve Rogers had a lot of fight in him. Before injected with the serum or after, no matter his shirt size, no matter if he could swing his fists effectively or not, he would fight for what mattered.

His teammates and friends certainly fell into the category. The somewhat relationship he had been trying to build with you was right there with them, definitely worth fighting for.

So, after revealing his identity – an action which become inevitable at that point, really – he had a delicate confession to make and a bold question to ask in an almost shy voice. He still asked it, because he would be damned if he gave up on you.

You said yes, your confession about certain harboured feelings matching his.

You said yes, you would like to go out with him very much, because you liked him too.

And no, it wasn’t just because he owned the best backside you had ever seen. Steve Rogers was, according to you, quite memorable and worth fighting for in general too.

(Steve, over time, might have developed a bit of a love-hate relationship with the fact you were getting along with Natasha so well. It was good news and bad news at the same time, seeing as it often resulted in the two of you teaming up against him. Once again, the good news won him over… because he simply loved how easily you fit into his world and how surprisingly well he fit into yours.)

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S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

It’s once a again a bit different from my usual writing; it’s short (like wtf me? short?) and it’s with a quote that is hard to do justice to... so I hope you liked it at leats a bit. Feedback always appreciated :-*

[keishins-ukai]

I Just Wanna Be Your Favourite Boy

(here’s a link if you prefer reading on ao3)

The amount of alcohol flowing in Kuroo’s veins was not enough to distract him from how pathetic all of this truly was . He was at his first University party, he was surrounded by beautiful people and free alcohol, he should be having the time of his life, right? Tetsurō sat in his friend’s garden with his back resting against the cold brick of the house, his head resting there too. His arms were balanced on his pulled-up knees, his eyes closed.

To any party-goers that ventured outside this would look normal, like the first year partied too hard and passed out super early – it's not like that kind of thing doesn’t happen all the time. Then they’d notice the earbuds still in his ears (though they weren’t playing anything, he just didn’t want to speak to anyone), the dry tear tracks down his cheeks, the ever so slight shaking of his chin. Well, that or the glitter-like sparkle that seemed to be all around the black-haired boy

Tears had become a very common part of Tetsurō’s life recently, a fact he hated with every fibre of his being. Six months ago, you would need the saddest song on earth put in the background of the saddest video on earth and he might have considered crying. Now all it took now was the thought of blond and black hair, golden eyes, mint vodka that smelled like his shampoo…

The stars hadn’t appeared until his first day of university. He had texted Kenma when he’d woken up - Kuroo always texted as soon as he woke up – some dumb chemistry joke he’d found the night before, trying to convey his excitement at finally starting his course. Kenma never usually replied immediately, though this day he did, though Kuroo didn’t actually know why (Kuroo would look back and see it as the first sign. Kenma told him everything)

Kenma had only sent a gif of a cat showing almost complete apathy, but Kuroo’s heart started racing nonetheless, mind spiralling at all of the possible meanings behind the response and never once landing on the real answer (Kenma just woke up earlier than normal). They’d texted a lot of the day, Kuroo only turning his phone off during classes, not wanting to make any bad impressions.

While it obviously hadn’t been the reason, in the following months Kuroo had started to blame turning his phone off as the inciting event as when he turned his phone on he got the notification, the moment that changed everything. It was so small, so seemingly inconsequential.

Instagram: Kodzuken has posted a photo

Kenma’s Instagram consisted mainly of photos from games he was playing, purposely unflattering pictures of himself or animals. But that day was different. He posted a picture of him and Hinata, and the orange-haired boy was positively grinning into the camera, Kenma wasn’t even smiling but Kuroo could tell he was happy, that he was less stressed than he had been for a lot of the summer.

Kuroo knew that what he told himself was unfair, that there simply wasn’t enough data to support the idea of ‘he likes Shōyō more’. But none of that mattered, Kuroo just knew. He didn’t need evidence to prove that Kenma had feelings for the shrimp, the ever so slight dimple was proof enough – even Kuroo had only seen that dimple once, and he wasn’t the one who bought it out.

Crying in the men’s bathroom, as it turns out, is neither very comfortable nor as discreet as one would imagine, though that didn’t matter to Tetsuro as the itching and burning sensation was the only thing he could think about. ‘What the hell is this?’ repeated in his mind as he did his best to stop the small glass-like crystals from falling to the floor and creating even more noise. After spending what felt like an eternity researching what could possibly in all hell be happening to him he moved, hating the quiet twinkling sounds in his pocket.

‘Of course this would happen to me.’ Kuroo would think to himself repeatedly over the next few days ‘Star fucking tears’.

-

Stars Tears

Caused by intense but unrequited love, always romantic, ‘star tears’ is a rare condition wherein the afflicted will secrete small crystalline shards from their tear ducts, the crystals often being compared to stars which is where the illness got its name. Side effects from stage two ‘star tears’ can include

-          Leaking tear ducts

-          Dryness of the eyeballs

-          Itchiness in the eye area

-          Blocked tear ducts

And in some extreme cases

-          Partial or complete colour blindness

-          Partial or complete sight loss.

As the disease is caused by unrequited love there is no ‘mainstream’ treatment which can cure this, some patients never being cured while others were reportedly healed if the person they loved also loved them back, in a romantic sense.

-

Even though he was aware of how bad an idea it was, Kuroo remained sat in his friend's garden, though now his earphones were playing something. More specifically he had his ‘Kenma’ playlist on which was playing all of the songs and bands that the shorter boy had ever introduced him to. They were playing at full volume to drown out his own thoughts - the ones nibbling on his mind, making him think of lazy nights playing ‘Majora’s Mask’ with him , of the nights leading up to Christmas making their cinnamon and raisin cookies, of the toothbrush that had been Kuroo’s spare but that he’d stolen because of their frequent sleepovers.

He really didn’t want to cry again, having decided that his new rate of three times a week was far too much, but the stars demanded more still. In the beginning, they would only appear if he’d seen his face, whether it be over skype or as a photo. That had been remarkably easy to handle - Kuroo had just moved all of the photos of him to the ‘hidden’ folder on his phone, and minimise the skype screen when they talked. Easy.

But then Kuroo started to really miss him, started to think of him almost every moment of the day, affecting his sleep and work schedule. That’s when he realised how truly fucked he was. You can’t just pick and choose what parts of friendship you want to participate in and expect it to remain completely intact. Kenma didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense a change, making more of an effort to start their conversations, to not leave Kuroo out of what was going on his life, to make sure that the elder knew that they were still friends.

It was unfair how this made everything worse, that Kenma’s thoughtful inclusions made Kuroo feel more excluded than ever, made him feel both like he had a chance and also made him know that Kenma saw him as his closest friend and that he wouldn’t be more. Kenma had always worried with his crushes that initiating things with them would scare them off, that he would be seen as overbearing. Rather than risking anything, he would just wait until he thought the other would like him back before asking them on a date.

The tears started to increase, them coming at just the thought of Kenma when Kuroo hadn’t got any prevention methods. His most effective was to drown out any other noise with the sound of his own music, even investing in better earphones to ensure that he wouldn’t be hearing any other external noises. However, his playlist choice could definitely be improved upon since every voice, every chord, every bar had the Kenma Kozume seal of approval, making the task of not thinking about the boy almost impossible.

Not even twenty minutes alone and his mind wandered, going to almost every stop in Tetsurō’s brain before stopping at one that made his heart dance. If it were a book the edges would be folded, the spine broke, and some of the pages ripped just from the sheer amount of use.

“Stop looking at my ass!” Kenma had demanded, trying his best to wriggle away from Kuroo “This isn’t for you”. The blond wasn’t looking at him, trying to pretend that his attention was on the syringe in his hand.

“You’re the one who asked me to do this.” Kuroo reminds, reaching over for the injection. “And knowing I was coming over to do this you decided to wear trousers rather than shorts when all I need is your thigh, so…” Their eyes meet and the elder man winks.

Kenma’s face scrunches up in retaliation, fingers lingering for just a moment against Kuroo’s, placing the syringe gently in his hand. “What are you trying to suggest?”

He pretends to think for a second when he wipes a disinfectant wipe on his leg, knowing that he technically didn’t need to but also wanting to be as safe as possible. “That maybe you wanted me to see your ass?”

The youngers face calms into a neutral expression. “Dream on Tetsurō.” Despite being quite scared of needles, he had decided on having testosterone injections rather than pills or any other alternative, finding that needing to do injections more infrequently benefitted him more. He’d also figured that getting someone else to administer the injection would have negated his fear.

Kuroo had agreed, why would it be more difficult for an injection to occur when you’re not the one putting the needle in your skin? The answer; Kenma was a wriggler. He moved back on the bed every time that Tetsurō tried to move closer to him “Come on, kitten.” he chides, the pet name tacked on as a joke.

His only answer is a hiss, a literal fucking hiss, as Kenma tries to move his leg away again, but is caught by the ankle and pressed back down to the bed. Kuroo eventually managed to give Kenma his testosterone, despite the difficulty and found that when he went home there was only one thing on his mind. The hiss.

Most people who met Kenma Kozume thought he was polite, shy and awkward. And he was all of those things, but he was also so much more. He was funny, intuitive, self-assured and weird and Tetsurō loved that so much. As soon as he thought the word ‘love’, everything seemed to make sense. Every look that lasted too long, every thought replaced by one of Kenma, every feeling of longing to be with his best friend.

Tetsurō was in love with his partner in crime. He still is.

Rex Orange County is a band that frequently blasts on Kuroo’s phone, them having many songs that fit the themes of unrequited love so well that he had no choice but to really connect with their music. Though there was one song in particular that is constantly on his mind, the song being called ‘Best Friend’.

At some point in his reminiscing Kuroo had put on the song, immediately pressing the repeat button as he moved his head to stare into the night sky.

But no, it wasn't meant to be and see, I wasn't made for you

And you weren't made for me

When he was younger he’d wanted to be an astronomer, having found the stars and the moon fascinating, but he couldn’t stand the sight of them anymore. His hands were shaking, shoulders shaking, lip shaking. Maybe if he got some closure he could move on and get rid of this disease, finally feel whole again.

Love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool

That makes your heart melt

Tetsurō needed to turn this song off, to stop fucking thinking about him, about the man he had literal scientific proof that he doesn’t love him back, but the pure boost of serotonin he got when he thought about Kenma was worth it. It was worth the pain, it was worth the constantly itchy eyes, it was worth feeling sick to his stomach anytime he sees a twinkle.

Oh, I still wanna be your favourite boy

I wanna be the one that makes your day

The one you think about as you lie awake

He started typing the text before he could stop himself, feeling like he was watching himself make this extremely poor decision but having absolutely no power to stop himself. Even if it wouldn’t make Kenma love him it would be cathartic, right? And as long as he’s vague enough he could preserve their friendship, maybe even claim plausible deniability if necessary. The text read: ‘listening to this and thinking about you’ along with a link to Best Friend.

Kenma’s response was very short, only three words but enough to send his heart into a tailspin, for it to stop completely in its tracks, to make him feel like he’d never breathe again. ‘I’m dating Shōyō’

That night Kuroo lost the golden hue of his eyes.

--------------

A special thanks to @wanderlustsky for beta reading this! it was amazingly helpful <3

[sadstonewrites]

Fractured Psyche Chapter 2

Here we go, chapter 2! 

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x OC

Rated M

We’re giving you the chance to be a hero. To get out of here and make something of yourself. Give it a thought.”

It felt like ages since the shadowy agent in the expensive suit had spoken those words to Lane. The words seemed to be on repeat now as Lane’s head lolled on the gurney, the latest round of drugs wearing off and leaving them with a mouth full of cotton. They weren’t sure how much of what had been pumped into their system - part of Lane thought it was better than they didn’t know.

More than anything, it just hurt all over. They supposed that meant it was working.

Ajax and Angel had quickly made their introductions to Lane, the bruises and a busted lip a signature calling card of the latter while Ajax preferred his own brand of being an insufferable but also terrifying prick. They weren’t sure how long they had been here, but it had been long enough that they had gotten good at picking out their footsteps.

They were pushing a gurney into the adjacent room, casting shadows on the medical screen as they did so. Plugging in an IV, various machines into another patient (Lane wasn’t sure what they were, patients or prisoners) and giving the usual speech about ‘The Workshop’ as it had come to be called. Making mutants. Heroes. Lane wasn’t so sure anymore.

Their voices faded, the world went dark as Lane fell back into unconsciousness

“Rise and shine, Lane.”

Before they had a chance to react, their eyelid was being wretched open and a penlight shoved into their field of vision.

“Dilation normal, no sign of any outward change. Yet.”

Ajax retracted the light and took some notes on a clipboard, passing it off to Angel who stood at his side.

“And how are we feeling today? Our new cocktail treating you well?”

“Great.” Lane responded tonelessly. The residual grogginess was beginning to wear off, and a dull headache was starting to set into their temples.

“Good. We’ve got some more for you to try, since you’re being such a good girl for us. Isn’t that right, Angel?”

Lane grunted and tried to sit up, their movements limited by the medical restraints that bound them to the gurney.  “S’not a girl.”

Ajax didn’t look up from filling a syringe with some ominously colored liquid. “What was that?”

“I said,” Lane swallowed the dryness in their throat and sat up a bit straighter. Well, as straight as one could while strapped down against their will. “I’m not a girl.”

Ajax chuckled, looking at Lane with his icy blues. He reached out with his free hand and pushed on their forehead, forcing them back onto the bed. “You think we care?”

He brought up the syringe and depressed the plunger, an arc of the dark liquid spraying near Lane’s face. They gagged at the smell of it - harsh and chemical, like burning hair in liquid form. “I could call you a dog for all I care. Would you like that, little girl? To be called a dog instead?”

Lane wasn’t sure if they were doing anything, all these drugs and ritual beatings that were meant to awaken the latent powers inside them, but at that moment they wanted nothing more than to have it work. To melt his stupid face off, strike him with lightning, force-choke him even. But no, all they could do was glare at Ajax’s grinning face.

“Hey shitface, they said they weren’t a girl. The least you could do is respect some pronouns up in this bitch.”

Lane’s eyes shot towards the new voice. Behind the partition they could make out the gurney and the outline of the person on it; a male voice, tired and annoyed, angry even. Lane had lost count of how many times they had rehashed this argument with Ajax, but this was the first time someone else had stepped in.

Ajax sighed, his grin melted away, and nodded his head towards Angel. Angel cracked her knuckles beside him and strode behind the partition; the sound of a fist hitting flesh and a small whimper followed. Lane winced at the sound, having been on the receiving end of Angel’s punches more than once during their time at the farm.

“Enjoy your new roommate, he’s a real talker.”

He pushed the syringe down into the IV port. A burning sensation filled Lane’s veins and took them under into darkness.

_____

“Thanks for that. Earlier.”

“No problem, you’d think with all the estrogen between them they’d be a little more nurturing.”

Lane chuckled softly. It had been a few days before they had the chance to talk to their new roommate; Ajax and Angel had their hands full with him, and as for him, he seemed to treat it like a joke. From what Lane could gather from snippets of conversation, he was a mercenary and not taking things seriously was his forte. Ajax remained cool and collected like always, but Lane could hear the edge in his voice after a session with him.

“He does have a wonderful bosom.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” The voice behind the curtain crowed. Lane wondered how he could still sound so chipper after spending hours locked in a freezer, beaten, and undoubtedly had many more awful things done to him.

An awkward silence fell between them, the lull in conversation punctuated by a scream in some far off corner of the lab. Lane really had no idea how big the space was, having been confined to their own little partitioned area and hooked up to machines, having a bag placed on their head whenever they had been moved to various torture rooms. They guessed that was to disorient them, make sure they had no way to escape.

“How long have you been here?” He asked, and Lane could detect the bit of apprehension in his voice.

Lane bit their lip. They had kept track in the beginning, measuring the days by the various injections or beatings, but after a while, in a place with no windows. . . “I’m not really sure. A month or two, maybe?”

“And no superpowers yet?”

“Nope. But I always was a late bloomer, so.”

The voice sighed.  “I know what you mean. I’m a bit more of a grower than a shower myself.”

“That why you’re here?”

It was his turn to chuckle - weak and forced, like it hurt to do so. A result of various beatings no doubt. “I wish erectile dysfunction was the reason I was here. Two Words. Super. Penis. ”

“Jesus,” Lane groaned at the thought, letting their head slump back onto the padding. “That’s probably the worst superpower you could get.”

“I think you mean best." He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. There was another pause, another scream from somewhere too close for comfort, before he spoke again.“The name’s Wilson, Wade Wilson.”

“Lane. Sorry we couldn’t meet in better circumstances.”

“Oh come on, nothing like a little torture to bond over. Just like summer camp.”

“What type of fucked up summer camp did you go to?”

The overhead industrial lights switched off unceremoniously and the lab was plunged into darkness, save for a few glowing machines and various torture devices running in the distance. Lane shifted, twisting their head to look out through a slit in the medical curtain that partitioned them from the rest of the lab. It was always worse at night, nothing to do in the darkness except let it all wash over you like a cold wave and wait for it to start all over in the morning.

That first night had been the worst, after the very first ‘session’ with one of Ajax’s various cronies when their body had all but given up and ceased functioning. A combination of drugs and electroshock therapy had reduced them to a dribbling mess, screaming internally but unable to lift a finger to wipe the drool off of their chin. It hadn’t gotten easier after that per say, but it did get more tolerable. Became the new normal; any day that hadn’t started with a routine injection or torture device was considered an oddity.

“-and then there was this one time, at band camp I stuck a flute up my-” Wade’s rambling brought Lane out of their thoughts; they hadn’t even noticed he was still talking.

“As much as I love hearing about musical instruments going places they aren’t supposed to,” Lane interjected, “I think I’m going to try and get some sleep.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, that’s important. Need to be fully rested for a full day of torture in the morning. Nighty-night, Lane.”

Lane blinked. They couldn’t remember the last time someone had told them goodnight in a non-threatening way. Hell, they couldn’t remember the last time someone had even talked to them without threatening some form of disembowelment. Holding on to the fleeting moment of kindness, Lane closed their eyes.

“Night, Wade.”

[tornbetween2loves]

No More Secrets

This fic was a request for the July prompts created by @kinda-iconic for @choicesjulychallenge It was requested by my good friend @riseandshinelittleblossom for an Adrian and Oliva pairing. This is a new pairing for me, I began writing them for the Choices Crossover project. This story does not take place in that AU, although there may be some similarities between the two. I am posting this a day late, this was actually a request for yesterday’s prompt, which was Secrets. Sorry for the delay, but I’ve been super busy this week. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them.

Word Count: 2723

Warning: this fic contains erotica. Please do not read if you are under the age of 18.

You can find more content for this pairing on my masterlist.

Adrian groaned and winced as he heard Olivia pull the cord to open the curtains, allowing rays from the early morning sun to filter into the room. “Rise and shine, sleepy head! We have a very busy day planned.” Adrian pulled the comforter up over his head, shielding himself from the sun’s burning rays. Olivia spun around and stood at the foot of the bed, her hands poised on her hips. Her lips curled up into a slight smirk as she grasped the bottom corners of the comforter, snatched it off the bed and tossed it aside. Adrian yelped as he hopped out of bed, the sun searing into his naked skin. He dashed into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him. His breath came in short pants as he glanced down at the red sores on his arms and chest. Thankfully, they were already beginning to heal and disappear. There was a soft knock at the door.

“Adrian? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” The concern was evident in Olivia’s voice on the other side of the door. Adrian took a deep breath as he struggled to slow his racing heart and keep his voice even. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I just really had to pee. I’m going to shower and get dressed then I’ll be downstairs. Will you please make some coffee?” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the door gently. After a pause she answered. “Of course. But hurry up! I want to get all my shopping done before lunch.” He listened as he heard her move to the door and leave the room. He groaned as he slipped his robe on over his still red skin and slipped back into the bedroom. He quickly closed the curtains, then made his way to the closet.

He walked over to a portrait hanging in the dressing area and felt underneath the bottom of the frame until he found a small button. With a click the portrait swung away from the wall, revealing a wall safe. He entered the combination on the keypad and opened the safe to reveal a briefcase. He opened the case to reveal an insert with holes for 20 vials. They were all empty but one. Adrian took a deep, ragged breath as he removed the last vial and held it between his forefinger and thumb. This was it. The last vial. When he decided to invite Olivia to accompany him to New York while he settled his affairs, he had no idea it would take this long. When he decided to relocate his lab to the remote mountains of Lythikos he had begun the process of putting people in place to run his New York operations. But he had miscalculated the amount of time it would take to actually put these plans into action.

He didn’t bring enough serum. And of course Olivia wanted to spend her days shopping and exploring New York City with her dashing billionaire boyfriend on her arm. This was the last day. He would have to do something. He sighed deeply as he drew back the plunger on the syringe, watching as the last of the serum was sucked into the tube. He injected it into his veins, closing his eyes as he felt it begin to spread throughout his body. He felt his blood warming in his veins and sucked in a deep breath. He closed the briefcase and shut the safe, then went to draw back the curtains in the bedroom.

Adrian stood in the morning sunshine, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays. This was it. The last day he could walk in the sunshine freely.

*******************************

Adrian paced back and forth in front of his desk. Olivia was relaxing before dinner while his stomach was tied up in knots. He didn’t notice the first knock on the door. The second was much louder and more persistent. He opened the door to see Kamilah standing there. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you for coming. I just don’t know what to do.” Kamilah nodded silently as she stepped into the office and closed and locked the door. She took one look at Adrian’s face and could tell he was stressed. “What is it? Why are you so upset?” He walked over to the window and watched the last rays of the sun disappearing as it set. His face was sad and his voice soft as he slowly turned to face his friend. “I took the last vial of serum this morning. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do.” His voice cracked and he turned to hide a tear that rolled down his cheek. “There’s really nothing I can do,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Kamilah.

Kamilah watched her friend for a moment, her heart breaking for him. She knew how hard it was to keep this secret. And yet, as hard as it was to keep, it was even harder to tell. She took a few steps forward and placed her hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “You have to tell her, Adrian. It’s time. She needs to know. You know you can’t hide this from her forever.” He nodded slowly. “Yes, I know. I’m just so scared that she’ll be angry at me for not telling her sooner. Maybe she’ll leave. Maybe she’ll never speak to me again.” Kamilah shrugged. “Or maybe she’ll just love you for who and what you are. Olivia Nevrakis can be stubborn as hell, but she has also proved to be loyal to the people she cares about.” Adrian nodded slowly in agreement, then turned to face his friend. His eyes were filled with worry as he looked at her. “But how do I tell her? I can’t just blurt out that I’m a vampire.”

Kamilah smirked and shook her head. “No, you can’t. That would be a disaster.” She hesitated as she pondered a moment. Then her face broke into a bright smile. “Adrian, don’t tell her your a vampire. Take her out to dinner. Dance with her. Buy her flowers. Then take her home and show her who you truly are.” Adrian’s face lit up. “Do you really think that will work?” Kamilah nodded. “Of course. Just don’t get carried away. You must maintain complete control. You can not feed on her without her permission.” Adrian shook his head. “No, I know that. Of course not.” He walked around to sit down behind his desk. He picked up the phone and called to make reservations as Kamilah let herself out the door.

*********************************************

Olivia’s eyes widened as Adrian pulled up in front of Per Se, Manhattan’s most exclusive French restaurant. “This is where we’re having dinner?” She squealed with delight. “The tasting menus here are world-renowned.” She smiled slyly as she glanced at Adrian out of the corner of her eye. “Is this some kind of special occasion?” He smirked and leaned over to kiss her softly, an eyebrow raised. “You could say that, I guess.” He flashed her another smile as he opened his door and came around to open the door for her. He held her hand as she stepped out of the vehicle and Adrian tossed the keys to the valet. They walked into the restaurant hand-in-hand as the hostess smiled and greeted them. “Good evening Mr. Raines. I have your table ready.”

They sat in a private booth near the window with a view of the city below them. Olivia smiled from ear to ear. “Adrian this is amazing!” She looked out the window as their server approached with a bottle of champagne. He popped the cork and filled two flutes, then put the rest of the bottle on ice. Adrian looked at Olivia and smiled. “Would you like to hear their menu? They don’t have a printed one because it changes everyday.” Olivia shook her head. “I am perfectly happy with the tasting menu.” Adrian nodded and turned to the waiter. “We’ll take the tasting menu, for two.” The waiter bowed as he nodded and left them alone. Olivia beamed with happiness as Adrian tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He raised his glass of champagne and clinked it gently with her’s. “To us,” he said with confidence he did not feel. Olivia smiled as she repeated the toast and they both drank.

After the tasting menu had been served, a live band began to play a waltz and the dance floor started to fill up. Adrian stood and extended his hand to Olivia. “Will you dance with me?” Olivia smiled as she took his hand. “Of course.” He led her to the dance floor where he wrapped her closely in his arms and they swayed slowly to the music. Something happened to the two of them when they danced together. Maybe it was because of how they met, or maybe it was how their bodies came together as one. They were lost in each other, the rest of the world faded away around them. Olivia gazed into his eyes, entranced by the circle of red around his iris as he held her close. He felt his desire for her building inside him as he locked his lips on hers. He moaned softly into the kiss as he broke it, his lips moved across her cheek to her ear. “I love you, Olivia.” He brushed her earlobe with his lips and ran his tongue along the side of her neck to her collarbone. He ached to taste her to have her blood on his lips. He lightly grazed his fangs along her neck as she trembled and moaned softly into his neck. “Let’s get out of here.” Adrian snapped his head up and closed his eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure. He released Olivia and went back to their table. This was going to be difficult. He paid the check then they headed outside to get the car.

She was all over him as he drove like a bat out of hell. He gasped as she slid her hand between his legs and groped him through his slacks. By the time they got home he was barely able to keep it together. His eyes shone bright red. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t hold back. They barely made it through the door as they tore each other’s clothes off and Adrian pinned Olivia against the wall just inside the front door. He kissed her neck fervently, careful not to use his fangs. She panted and moaned and trembled in his arms. He picked her up and impaled her on his hard member as she leaned back against the wall for leverage. He thrusted wildly as she moaned his name, her head thrown back in abandon. “Olivia, please—there’s something I must—oh god!” Olivia opened her eyes wide and locked on Adrian’s eyes as they glowed bright red. He opened his mouth as a primal roar escaped his throat and she saw his fangs. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He kissed her passionately and switched up his pace, thrusting slowly in and out of her. He tried desperately to reel in his desire to taste her. He buried his face in her neck as he drowned in her scent and his need for her.

Suddenly he felt her mouth hot at his ear, her voice was deep and breathy. “Let go, Adrian. It’s ok. I’m yours. I love you. Take me. All of me.” He snapped his head up to meet her eyes, his cheeks wet from tears of restraint. His voice came out in a gravelly whisper as he began to thrust wildly once more. “I-I love you so much.” Just as the tension snapped in Olivia’s belly, he sunk his fangs deep into the side of her neck, the taste of her sending him over the edge as he drank her deeply. Olivia cried out, her body quivering from the exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain. Adrian withdrew from the bite, running his tongue along each puncture wound to stop the bleeding. They both stood in silence, their foreheads touching, as they panted. Adrian broke the silence first. “Are you all right my love?” He ran his tongue along his teeth, savoring the taste of her blood that still lingered on the tip of his fangs.

“I think so,” she said as she unwrapped her legs from around his waist. She felt just a bit woozy as she placed her feet on the ground. Adrian steadied her as she swayed. “I’m so sorry, I took too much blood. Let me carry you to bed.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her gingerly on the bed and propped up her head with pillows. Olivia’s eyes fluttered as she fought to stay awake. “I think I’ll be ok,” she murmured softly. “I just need some rest.” Adrian nodded as he laid next to her and pulled her into his arms. She nuzzled into the crook of his arm and it wasn’t long before her breathing steadied. She was asleep. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as he kissed the top of her head. She was still here. He had shown her all his secrets, and she was still here.

*************************************************************

Adrian awoke to darkness and an odd feeling in the air. He reached out for Olivia but discovered she wasn’t there. He snapped up quickly as he reached to turn on the light on the nightstand. She wasn’t in the room with him. He began to panic as he jumped out of bed, disoriented. Where was his phone? Shit! What time was it. He rushed over to the window and pulled back the curtains just enough to see that the sun was beginning to set. Where was she? Did she leave him after all? She must’ve decided it was all too much. He sighed deeply as he sunk into a chair at the foot of the bed. He sunk his head into his hands and didn’t bother fighting back the tears that stung his eyes. Soon he was sobbing, not caring about the noises he made or how he looked. He was so consumed with sadness he didn’t notice the door open and shut. He barely noticed the curtains being pulled open abruptly. It wasn’t until he felt her arms around his neck from behind and heard her whisper softly in his ear that he began to take notice.

“Relax, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Adrian snapped his head up and locked his gaze on those emerald pools that held his heart. He bolted up and walked around the chair to wrap Olivia in his arms tightly. “I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you. You were gone. Why? Where did you go?” Olivia smiled up at him. “Hey, vampires sleep during the day, right? Well it will take me awhile to adjust to that schedule. I didn’t want to disturb you so I went into the other room. I wasn’t real sure what time to wake you.” She blushed as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry I’ve been dragging you out of bed so early. You should’ve told me.” Adrian shook his head. “How could I? Just blurt it out in conversation? So much was at stake. I was so scared of losing you. I couldn’t risk it.” Olivia pulled away and looked at him sternly. “You could never lose me, Adrian. I’m committed now. You have nothing to worry about. But will you promise me something?” Adrian nodded. “No more secrets, ok?” He smiled and headed for the bathroom. “Deal.” He paused at the doorway and turned to face her once more. “Are you sure you’re ok with all this? I know it’s a lot to handle.” Olivia smirked and put her hands on her hips.

“I’m fine. It’s not so much to handle. Besides,” she raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re a vampire, I’m a Nevrakis. I’d say that’s a pretty even match.” Adrian chuckled as he shook his head. “An even match indeed.” He blew her a kiss and headed into the bathroom.

[theoneandonlykymberlee]

Crybaby Pt. 1

This is part one of six. Olivia is my OC and this is probably kinda shitty but it’s been a long two weeks at work.

Ricky Olson/OC

Mentions of drug abuse, overdose, angst.

“FUCK!”

I threw all my stuff off my dresser, listening to the glass of the picture frames shattering against the wall as I cried and my heart felt like it was breaking out of my chest. I could hear my best friend running up the stairs and next thing I knew he was kicking my door in and dragging me against his chest.

“Olivia, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please talk to me.”

I just gripped his shirt tighter as he sunk down the wall and pulled me into his lap, looking at all the shattered pictures and makeup palettes.

“He left.”

Those were the last words I said to any of them, to my best friend of the last 15 years as he held me one last time and I cried.

They were also the first words I had muttered in over a week.

I moved one week later, the day the boys left for tour. I left behind the world I knew for a completely unfamiliar world I promised I would live in once upon a time ago. Living in plain sight as a ghost right under my ex boyfriend Ricky’s nose.

Funny how things end up. Things and people change, some for the better; others like myself for the worse.

When I left I was barely old enough to buy booze. Now four years have passed and I was so deep in a hole I didn’t know how to even begin digging my way out.

I was looking into the green eyes of the newest dealer scoring my latest fix of whatever drug I was taking this week, trying to some how bring the euphoria of being with him back into my life. Granted, I was going about it the absolute wrong way. I had died my hair, changed the color of my eyes with contacts to fit my mood of the week for as long as I could remember after he left me in the dust with only pain in his wake.

I moved to my safe haven, and bought the house him and I had been eyeballing online outright in cash, I sold majority of my most prized possessions to buy my dream house, and now it was all I had left.

“Hello. Heeeelllllooooo?”

I snapped out of my thoughts as his hand waved in front of my red contact covered eyes.

“Yeah Jase. Sorry.”

“75 even. You should be fucked up for weeks, let me know when you need more.”

I just nodded to him as he took my money and quickly walked away. I tucked my stash into my boot, clipping the bottom back on and making my way back into the bar I was currently working at. It was a busy Friday night and all the goth kids had come out to play with how close it was to Halloween. His band was also in town, so people were slowly filtering in from the theatre downtown where their show had just ended. I served until three when my boss Jana let me go home.

I smiled and kissed her forehead as I walked into the back of the bar, untying my apron and hanging it in my locker. I grabbed my purse and my bottle of water before I walked out into the front and lifted the counter to leave.

“Good luck tonight guys!!”

“SEE YOU MONDAY KILLER!”

My co-workers all smiled and waved to me as I made my way out the front door and into the cold, and an incredibly tall man and his shitty friends.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking. Totally my bad.”

I recognized him immediately as he smiled down at me. Christopher.

“It’s all good. Probably should’ve been watching the door.”

I just smiled my most convincing smile and bid him a good night. As I started walking off I heard AJ and Ryan’s footsteps.

“Hey. Wait up.”

I sighed and turned around.

“How can I help you gentlemen tonight?”

“You look really familiar.”

“I can honestly say I don’t know you guys, just the band. Have a good night.”

Both of them nodded and apologized as I shrugged and began to walk away.

“I could swear that’s her AJ. It has to be.”

I just kept walking until I reached the park and cut through before I outright ran towards my house. I got home in record time and unlocked the door, opening and closing it as quickly as I could, locking it behind me and kicked my boots off before taking my stash out of the hidden heel and making my way to my room.

Now if you ask me, downers are much better for me. They bring me nightmare free dreams.

Tonight would be no such feat.

I quickly undressed and took a ten minute shower. Washing the nicotine and sweat off my body and out of my hair. When I was done, I pulled a pair of fuzzy black pajama pants and a black tank top on and stepped into my bunny slippers before going into the living room and setting up.

Spoon. Check.

Torch. Check.

Dope. Check.

Needle. Check.

I lit the torch and sprinkled what my mind thought was a small amount of whatever I bought into the spoon, holding it over the flame and letting it melt down before sucking it up into my syringe.

Once I was done I tied my arm off and found the vein.

Last thing I always did was take a deep breath before injecting myself with a clear shot to hell.

It took a minute to kick in and before I knew it I was high as a kite on a summer afternoon, slumped on my couch listening to whatever music was playing on my tv until my phone started to ring. I picked it up and eyed the number, not knowing it as I answered quietly.

“Hello.”

“Olive, is that you?”

“Who’s this?”

I knew I was slurring my words, and I was about to drop over that precipice of being strung out for days as his name came over the speaker.

“It’s Ricky… can we talk…”

I couldn’t even form a sentence as I realized two things simultaneously.

One, I had done far too much as my body began to slowly shut down. And two, Ricky was on the fucking phone.

All I said as spots began to cloud my vision was ‘i fucked up, I bought the house. I fucked up, please help me.’ Before my phone hit the ground and the world went black.

[grell-writes-stuff]

I finished chapter 28 and I’m posting it here because I did so many bad things

Tag List: @fenfaerie @arieswriting

I spent the week avoiding my phone as much as possible, and immediately deleting any notifications that popped up from that group chat. To keep it all confined to that forbidden, digital space, I tried to distance myself from the guys at school. Kelley had a lot to say about that yesterday.

“Do I have to bribe you into doing stuff?”

“Using what?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Maybe I just need to start smacking you with a newspaper until you do the thing that I want you to do.”

“You said we’re not hitting people.”

“I said you aren’t hitting people. I have free rein to do whatever is best for your health, and, at this point, I’m thinking of getting a little spray bottle–”

“Seriously?”

“You’re like a misbehaving cat, and I’m training you to stay off the kitchen table.”

She let up when I told her what my plans were for today.

At around six, I receive the “Here” text from Cole as his Cherokee rolls into our driveway behind – avoidance – something that I decide not to think about. Not today. For the sake of getting through this jam session and keeping it a good day, I can’t let myself focus on anything except drumming. That’s it. Nothing else.

That’s also why I slip my headphones in before leaving the house. I don’t have any music playing, but it keeps the ride to West Hills quiet – with the exception of Cole’s screamo. I say a polite “hey” to him and Matt, but that’s about it.

In approximately fifteen minutes, we’re pulling into the Mechis’ driveway next to a sleek, black Lexus that I refuse to look at. I don’t notice it, or the person walking from it to the entrance to the garage. I wedge a broom through the handle, because I refuse to open that door in my mind and let the memory of the screaming match ruin this day. Frankly, I’m determined to block out her shrill voice in whatever way I can. I fight against the ever-present urge to give myself tinnitus.

The three of us get out of Cole’s car, and I hang back for a moment as they grab their guitars. Together, we enter the garage, and I tug out my earbuds.

I swallow back the lump in my throat, but that’s tough when my windpipe is constricted.

It’s such a familiar place. It used to be comforting, but now it feels tainted and hollow. The old, duct-taped couches that are falling apart seem like dusty relics of some long-forgotten past for which I am the sole historian. The boxes of Full Stop. merch lying around feel like clutter now instead of a celebration and achievement, like some ancient memorabilia that no one will ever purchase, not even the most dedicated collectors. The band binder is still just hanging on by a thread, but it feels like it’s already exploded and setlists and notes are paper shrapnel raining down from the sky. My drum kit feels like a foreign technology that I don’t understand. This room is infested with age. It’s an abandoned ghost town, and I feel haunted.

As we enter, Bryson greets me. Cole and Matt say hi back, but I’m still finding it hard to make words, so I just nod and try to put my attention elsewhere. I try to remember the workings of my setup. I’ve been visualizing the placement of cymbals, and toms, and the kickdrum while I’ve been recovering. I know where everything is. I can figure out how I’d once played music on this strange contraption again. Maybe someday it’ll feel the same.

I head to one of the sofas as Matt and Cole go about tuning their instruments.

And I ignore the screeches that she calls vocal warmups. In fact, I do everything within my power to forget her presence all together.

“Okay,” Bryson interrupts after a few minutes have passed. In that time, I’d listened to the twangs of the guitar and bass, and not her shrieks into the microphone. “I guess we can start.”

Since we don’t have a gig lined up, and this is just an unofficial jam session for something like fun, there’s a difference in his tone. It’s not as desperate. That’s probably a good thing. He’s not stressed, and there’s less pressure on us to be perfect. We’ll be far from it. The walking boot on my leg acts as a constant reminder of that fact as I rise and move over to my kit.

“We’ll probably be a bit rusty,” he elaborates. “But everyone just try your best. We don’t have to sound filled-out. Just let us know if you need a break, Scott.” He gestures to my leg, to the boot.

I nod. There was no hope of us sounding full anyway, and I haven’t tried drumming with a cast ever, but I doubt it will help my limb coordination and timing, and it probably won’t feel too great after a while, so I’ll definitely be off. And we’re painfully lacking in guitars, but I force that thought out of my mind.

I don’t purposefully bump into her shoulder as I pass. It’s easier to pretend she’s not there – that she’s not even furniture – rather than acknowledging her as an obstacle.

“All right. So, Scott?” Bryson says to grab my attention. Once I’m sat on my stool behind my setup, I look at him. It’s tough to define what’s in his expression, but his words are rather transparent. I didn’t text him back at all the past few days and he knows that was a deliberate choice. “We all picked songs this week that we want to run today, and, after that, we’ll focus on originals, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Cole wants to run Ocean Avenue – so we’ll start there – and Selena picked Told You So.”

Of course it’s a Paramore song. Of course it is.

“Matt chose You Think You Know It All by Red As Dusk. What’s your pick?”

It takes me a second longer than normal to peruse my mental music library because now it’s shrunk in size, and so many songs have been filed away and are now off-limits. Kelley’s suggestions are background noise as I search the stacks. Purge the excess negative energy. Purge the anger. Hitting my sticks against my drums will help, but only if I can find a way to throw everything that I possibly can into it. It’s a good thing that I’m battling rage because those tracks are the safe ones now, and anything rebellious will do.

“The Anthem – Good Charlotte.”

Bryson gives me a brief nod, but that’s ruined immediately. Every hair on my body seems to rise in defense.

“Um, I don’t know that one!” It’s her sharp voice speaking, and I shove my earplugs in to filter out some of the volume and annoyance. “I would have learned it if you’d picked sooner.”

“Sucks to be you!” It slips out of me, and I realize that means I’ve broken my vow for the day, and now Selena’s materialized in the garage, and my glare lands on her, which she matches with one of her own. In my peripheral, the rest of the guys look like they’re getting ready to break up the resulting physical fistfight that seems to be inevitable.

But that will get me in trouble in some way. I know it for a fact. I’ve already reacted, so retreating is tough, but I grapple for a way to deescalate.

“I’ll fucking sing it then. Why does it even need lyrics anyway? It just needs to be cynical and loud.” My fingers clamp around my sticks, the tools that will help me feel better and prevent me from punching her square in her contoured cheek.

“You just want Vikki to come in here and yell at us again, don’t you?” Bryson asks, deadpan, probably so Selena doesn’t have a chance to retaliate.

“Yes,” says Cole.

“Oh, my God,” he sighs. “Really, Cole?”

“Dude, I can’t be the only one who’s told you that your sister is hot.”

“She’s hot,” Matt agrees.

“See? Verdict’s in: she’s hot.”

“Why am I friends with you?” That knocks the desperation back into his tone, and it almost feels like a normal detour from practicing. Like we have a gig soon, but we’re all screwing around, and Bryson’s the only one with a sense of urgency and deadlines. I almost make myself savour it. “Can we just start the song? Please? Just play the fucking song?”

At that, Cole shrugs slightly, and his gaze sweeps over us to find confirmation. I signal back, my limbs still humming with everything I had to repress a second ago. They’re vibrating with the need to get it out, and I feel ready to drum to release it all before it boils my blood. She injected the steam into my veins and it wants out.

When everyone’s ready, Cole’s guitar plays the chugging, palm-muted intro to Ocean Avenue. Finally, my sticks hit and my foot stomps the kickdrum’s pedal. Matt’s bass fills it out a little bit, but we still sound empty. We’ve played this track before, but it doesn’t sound anything like it used to when it came out of our instruments. Selena’s unstable voice wails without a care, and I try to block it out and focus on my drumming so I don’t sound so off even though I totally am.

My limb coordination is flawed because the boot is throwing off my time-keeping and I haven’t put my formerly-sprained wrist to much work until now. I knew that I wouldn’t be perfect, but it’s bugging me nevertheless. My brain is telling me that it shouldn’t be like this. As a whole, we should sound better. My limbs shouldn’t feel so stiff as if I were a marble statue, as if I’m turning to stone. I hope for a second where I get the chance to shake it off, except–

Except my throat has a tight knot in it, and it hastily, heavily drops down into my chest. It’s so sudden and strange, but I feel something stirring and then curdling within me, rising up and bubbling through every artery before solidifying into a heavy, black mass that weighs down my arms. I remember a moment too late that I should be breathing, and I only accomplish that because I haven’t been taking in air and it already feels like my lungs have been set on fire after being filled with concrete, so it’s tough to shove into my subconscious. My eyes are stinging so bad that I can’t see my sticks where they rest in my shaking hands. The knot launches itself up from my chest and I feel like I have to gag. My pulmonary function fails and I become as empty as the music that falls silent.

Not all at once. It dies off in pieces, but I stop first, right at the start of the chorus. Then, everyone else cuts off too. The sticks slip through my loose fingers, but I barely hear them hit the hard floor with a soft clatter because a song is echoing in my mind now, and it’s not Ocean Avenue.

But it’s close. Too close. Ahead of me, I see blurs.

But also, an endless horizon of blue.

“Scott?”

Bryson’s voice penetrates my earplugs, but it still sounds twenty-thousand feet away from me. My mouth feels like it’s been filled with sand, and my stomach hurts, and everything is blocked by the firm, congealed sludge living inside of me. My hands are caught up in earthquakes, and I hear my hollow attempts to breathe as something between gasps and augmenting sobs.

I suddenly feel his hand on my shoulder and I don’t know how because his touch is light and everything is hot and numb.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a distorted voice.

No. I’m not. I’m not okay, but I can’t speak to lie and say that I’m fine, or to, for once, tell the truth. My mind is not a blank whiteboard. Instead, someone has written lyrics on it in permanent marker, and now the words are tormenting me along with dark chords, and a frantic, panicking drum beat that’s pounding against my skull.

“What’s wrong, Scott?” One of them questions me. I can’t even tell which one of them it is anymore. Matt, I think. Maybe.

I want to throw up. Or I need to. Or I just need to take in air. Any fucking air at all. Before everything finally shuts down, I have to get it out. Quavering. Quiet.

“Yellowcard.”

There’s some silence. Or it would be, but my ears are ringing, and my cheeks feel wet. After a few hundred, frenzied heartbeats, Bryson stiffens beside me, which I know because the hand that’s on my shoulder is attached to a body that I feel go rigid. His voice mingles with the deafening tone and my tears, and I hate how horrified and sorry it sounds. How lost and guilt-ridden it is.

“I was playing Lights And Sounds when they jumped…”

It’s not even the same fucking song! So what?! I’m just never going to be able to listen to Yellowcard again?! Because now they are tainted with tragedy and I’ll always remember in some crevice of my mind that that stupid song was playing, and I can almost feel our arms locked, and the salty breeze as it all rushes up ahead of us–

“Shit, man. I-I’m sorry.” I hear Cole say, and I hate the way that it sounds too because he shouldn’t have to apologize. “I didn’t know–”

I can’t even tell him to stop because I won’t be able to make any words, and I can’t breathe. Nothing’s going in and reaching my burning lungs even though I’m gasping for it. It’s not his fault, but those words stop on my tongue. It isn’t Cole’s fault. He doesn’t have to say sorry. He was in the water. He couldn’t have heard it. It’s not Cole’s fault. It’s not Matt’s fault. It’s not Bryson’s fault.

Because maybe it’s mine. We did it together, and one of us tripped, and what if it was me? Maybe if we hadn’t jumped at the same time, things would be different. He would be here, and this would be a practice for a gig instead of a failed jam session, and his guitar would have filled out Full Stop. and we would feel like Full Stop., and I wouldn’t be breaking down over a fucking Yellowcard song! But it’s too late now, and it’s all my fault.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Fuck it! Move!”

Such a loud voice that slices through my earplugs like a razor blade and splits the air with the shrill metal sound of an axe hammering down. If I wasn’t shaking so terribly, I’d flinch at it because it hurts, but it also makes every trembling muscle inside of me tense painfully.

It’s sudden, but Bryson’s hand withdraws quick, and my vision finally goes dark, and then talons dig into my flesh and sear it, and I’m yanked up violently to the sounds of muffled protests surrounding us. My own laboured, raspy, wailing gasps rise above the guys as I try to bring in anything at all, but it turns out to just be another futile attempt because there’s not enough air in the atmosphere to keep me alive.

My skin burns where fingernails dig in and inflict agony like they’re steel nails instead, and I don’t know how I stumble when my legs have turned to rubber, and my feet feel weighted down. I could crumble and snap and break at any moment like a building ready to topple. All the retentions are groaning, the supports failing, and I’m about to fall, and I can’t fucking breathe!

There are bewildered and demanding words coming from the dark blurs around me, and I try to blink the water away, but it’s coming too fast. Only one forceful voice has the volume to rise above, and it’s almost clear, and so close to me, and shoving me harshly as if the sound itself has become a physical entity, and it’s so damn annoying. It pushes and pulls me, and I’m running out of the strength to fight it because everything I have left is trying to suppress the bile gathering in my stomach and threatening my useless esophagus.

Then everything is bright, like the sun on that horrible, unsuspecting day. I’d say I feel blinded by it, but I didn’t see anything before anyway. There’s more forced stumbling and a muddling of voices and sounds. Another rises over them, so loud, and shrill, yet it can never hit the notes it sets out to despite always trying to rise at the end of every line.

“Get in,” it demands.

“Selena, what the fuck are you doing?!” Bryson. I think it’s Bryson. It sounds kind of like Bryson, but so far away.

I think there’s a response, but I’m trapped in a fishbowl and everything is half muted. I’m sitting, and all I hear before someone else speaks is a loud slam right beside me. Then there’s something that sounds like angry arguing, but I can’t make it out because my thundering heartbeat and broken lungs are trying to kill me. Another harsh slam, then a jingle, sputter, and hum, and then the whole world lurches forward.

And my gut lurches forward and upwards again, and that forces the blackness clouding my eyes to dissolve into dizzy, sparkling fragments. I barely have the air to heave, but I manage to start gagging, rocking forward in my leather seat, and then her voice shrieks:

“Don’t you fucking dare puke in my car!”

I’m in Selena Walton’s stupid, expensive Lexus. There’s that small, sane part of me clinging to the thought that blowing chunks inside of her Lexus is a bigger fuck you to her than smearing Vaseline on the door handle, but it’s microscopic because the acidic needles of the bile are pricking the base of my empty windpipe, and it’s so fucking hot in here, and no matter how much blinking I do everything is blurry, and those lyrics are stuck in my mind.

“But make it loud, cause nobody’s there.”

Nobody’s there.

He’s not there. He’s not here. One. I’m alone in the chapel with a monument to destruction, the end of an era. Two. Together, we jump. Three. My leg feels like it’s been severed. Four. My head has exploded. Five. I shatter into pieces. Six. I’m gripping the porcelain sides of a bathroom sink to keep from falling. Seven. In the nightmares, I’m falling. Falling, falling, falling. Eight. I’m suffocated by the emptiness of a black abyss and closed-in walls of my bedroom without him in it. Nine. The futon is in couch mode. And that’s not ever going to change again. Ten. There’s not enough air, but I can’t seem to drown. Eleven. We hit the ledge over half-way down a thirty-foot fall, and it was all my fault. He’s gone, and I should have gone with him, but I didn’t and he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone – You’re never going to get rid of me, Morgan – and why can’t I fucking breathe–

And then something unimaginable happens.

It’s fast, unpredictable, and unprompted, and my boiled blood becomes lava because the second I realize what’s going on, I am furious.

Her arm smacks into and lays across my chest and pushes me back harshly against the seat, pinning me. She’s leaned over the console in the middle with her other hand still stretched to hold the wheel, but I only notice that after the fact, and it’s still not the most terrifying thing. My tear-blinded eyes go wide, and probably vault out of my skull like a cartoon because this is a new kind of unwelcome proximity.

Her lips are on my lips. She kisses me with her greasy, scalding, obnoxious, red mouth and suddenly my trembling limbs freeze in place. The world pauses for a second – or it feels like it except she’s also fucking driving in West Hills, which is just as uneven and winding as Woodland Hills and Bryson’s street is no exception, and her fucking foot must be pressing the accelerator to the floor.

But I am less focused on fearing for my life and more focused on the fact that I have now kissed Selena fucking Walton.

“What the FUCK?!”

[yulnabi]

Day 57 [IC]

Wesnesday: Confusing Times.

This morning, band practice went as usual. The band can tell there’s real chemistry forming between Galya and I, which in turn improves the quality of our performance.

After practice, I told Galya that I had kept working on her armor, but needed a few touches before it was serviceable.

She was very excited by this news, and asked me to lunch. Unfortunately, I had to decline because I had already agreed to have lunch with Osman.

So I headed to the loft and went about making lunch. I made chicken in walnut sauce, accompanied by various veggies and a generous portion of dill.

I was actually in a good mood, proud of tge progress I had made with Galya’s armor. Thus, I chose to dress up and look as beautiful as I could for him.

I chose a pretty, black minidress, a silver necklace, and diamond earrings. As I looked myself in the mirror, I became convinced I could disarm him so as to ask why he was becoming cold and distant.

When he got to my place, I met him with an enthusiastic smile, followed by a warm hug and passionate kiss.

He pulled me away and said he needed to talk to me, the seriousness in his face and in his stone zapping whatever enthusiasm I had built up beforehand.

“Let’s talk about it over lunch,” I said, now forcing myself to smile. In my head, I was panicking as my entire pre-date ritual had been for naught: he didn’t even seem to notice me.

Over lunch, however, he seemed different. He mentioned how much he loved me, that he spent his nights just thinking about the next time we were to meet.

Admittedly, his words were music to my ears. I was so happy he still felt the same way about me as I feel about him.

He then asked me if I still loved him? Hmuch I loved him? What would I be willing to do to prove my love for him? How far would I go to keep our love alive?

This made me nervous, as I worried this was heading somewhere awful. He must gave sensed my discomfort, and immediately began to reassure me it was nothing illegal or dangerous.

“What would you want me to do, love?” I asked nervously.

He said it was nothing, he just needed me to do him a small favor.

“That sounds cryptic” I responded.

He insisted that it was just a minor change, something to prove I really loved him.

I looked at him awaiting his request.

Osman then asked me to stop taking birth control.

The request confused me. I asked how that would prove anything, but he answered by asking again if I truly loved him.

We went back and forth until I relented. Had he been paying attention, he would have seen me look down when I accepted.

By now we were done, so I picked up the dishes and took them to the dishwasher. There, I felt Osman pin me, lift my skirt and do his thing.

When he was finished, he kissed the back of my head and left.

———————————————-

I spent the afternoon in a good mood. Sure, my body ached because he was getting progressively rougher, but he had reassured me of his love for me.

Anyways, knowing he still has feelings for me was like fuel. I headed to the moon base and finished the first prototype of Galya’s armor.

I was so motivated, I then tried something I hadn’t tried in a long time: I tried getting a sample of my own blood. Everytime I tried, I was unable to, as my hand would stop just before the injection pricked my skin.

As frustration grew, I closed my eyes, then felt very light, as if floating.

When I opened them, I was in a lab. This place was familiar, then I remembered, this was a lab in Novi Cheboksary, the planet I see in my dreams, more than 300,000 years into the future.

I find a monitor that reads:

In the year, 2018, a young Yuliya Nikolaevna Kardasheva, Grand Duchess of the Chuvash People’s Republic, Savior of the Chuvash, Bashkir, and Volga Tatars, discovered the Gift of Kanesh. This ability innate to all Kaneshi, would allow her to study her own biology.

A very powerful, bright light then seemed to blind me. As my eyes adjusted, I looked down to see the source was my stomach. When I looked up, I saw what looked like me, wearing a beautiful red gown adorned with alien jewels, waving goodbye, mouthing the word “Пока” (bye).

I opened my eyes, and this time, I was able to stick the neddle in my veins. This was the strangest of sensations. For the first time in my life, I held a vial of my own blood.

I stared at it for a long time, unsure what I had just done. Then I hid it, asked an employee to try to take my blood, but every time they did, the blood would last but a few seconds.

When I retrieved my vial, it was all there.

I spent the rest of the night looking it over, trying to find it’s mysteries and decode them.

———————————-

It has been 10 hours and still no breakthroughs. Perhaps I need some rest and I can conti . . .

[dani3ll3collins]

2019 - not bad tbh (long post)

2019, it’s had its ups and downs but to be fair wasn’t that bad.

Jan - took a walk up a hill in freezing temperatures only declining further we walked up. Remember standing right at the top, the wind pushing me against where I needed to go,

Feb - got to see two concerts in two weeks with my boyfriend most amazing time together & I went ice skating for the first time 🥰 I also got to celebrate Valentine’s Day for the first time and my boyfriend surprised me with so much it was an overwhelming day ❤️

May - finally the month me & my boyfriends first holiday away came around 10 days in Turkey! Enjoyed every moment, to come home to celebrate my birthday on the 22nd

June - bought Tyrone my baby leopard gecko home & visited a theme park for the first tine since I never got the chance to as a kid, it was a lot of fun

Sept- a hard month... started off visiting my boyfriends older sister in Manchester staying at her place overlooking the football stadium which is where I saw my first football game that week, had a mad night out with my boyfriend and his sister & her showing us around the gay night clubs, ngl it seems like great fun down there! I don’t remember much after that... the journey home was long. Soon after this was the decline of Tyrone’s health...

Oct - this month was a hard one for me, I had to make the hardest decision. Tyrone wasn’t well at all, giving him injections every other day, feeding him special food which he’d only throw back up, giving him eye drops to clean up his eye & having him loose weight by the day it was only sensible to have him put to rest. I remember wanting to try everything I could no matter the cost but sadly it was in vein he seemed to be suffering more thus I had him put down on the 23rd of October. I cried for days... to cheer me up my boyfriend took me to Alton towers for a day out & to celebrate Halloween it really brightened my spirits & he told me he booked more tickets to go again for the fireworks

November - celebrated fireworks night (a bit late) at Alton towers it had the most spectacular firework display I’d seen! I got to see ghost! I’m Cardiff another one of my favourite bands the best performance I’d seen on stage not only their music but the performance they put on makes the show come to life

Dec - I moved into my boyfriends gradually moved my things in and I gladly got to move Sanchez in with me! I can finally call my boyfriends place my home despite staying more at his than my parents place anyway... I celebrated new year in town a few drinks and it was a great night

Come on 2020 what you got in store for me?

[chillydayzgaming-blog]

Borderlands

Ever wanted a million guns? How about 17.75 million guns ripe for the taking? Guns that'll melt your enemy's faces off, burn them alive, make them scream for their mothers as they experience more than 1.21 gigawatts of electricity coursing through their veins? Then Gearbox Software has a game for you. Released in 2009, Borderlands is a loot based FPS with RPG style skill perks and classes. Four characters to choose from: Sarcastic marksman Mordecai, over enthusiastic brick shithouse named appropriately enough Brick, femme fatale reality shifting Siren named Lilith and finally the impromptu leader of the bunch Roland. He's the big black guy with a turret. Between it's respawning enemies who exist to drop loot and it's wonderful space western setting Borderlands became a cult classic that enjoyed more fanfare over time, gaining traction as an alternative to standard shooters of the time. The first time I recall hearing about the game was from an article talking about Ice T playing it himself. A glowing recommendation from him and it being cheap used at GameStop ensured that I would pick it up. Showing it off to my friends we soon began to play it together, eventually I picked up the GoTY edition, getting all the DLCs that I hadn't yet grabbed anyway, but by that time I was in my third play through of the game. The game working off of a cyclical new game plus mode allows for the player to replay it over again if they wish, with additional difficulty added to the game. To offset that the loot gets better too, so yay, more farming. My fondest memories of Borderlands was starting up the game, putting on some Cage the Elephant and just going to town on the final difficulty. The first area, the Arid Badlands, is a blast. Classic space western fare: Hostile bandits, crazy alien animals to shoot and plenty of loot chests to open up. Learning about all the hidden boxes, running a circuit of slaughter and chilling out to a great band is phenomenal fun. Strongly suggest it as a cathartic method to relax. Surprisingly enough I actually enjoyed classic Borderlands' bare bones story. That doesn't mean it was fantastic, it was cut down from the early ideas for the final release. Essentially the story boils down to there being a vault full of loot, you know, the stuff you've been collecting all the while? But that in a way is a wonderful subversion of what we expect. We expect the McGuffin of the story to bring us what we want, when at it's heart it is meant to only play the role of a desired thing. Be it a princess in yet another fucking castle, big black books filled with Eldritch knowledge or in Borderlands case a vault full of loot. But, spoiler alert, it isn't. It's full of tentacle monster guy. You've seen enough hentai to know where this is going. So you trampled across the East coast of a forsaken continent on a largely abandoned planet just to have to fight a roughly four story interdimensional monster hell-bent on diddling you with his tentacles. Bet you feel used huh? But, really, didn't you have fun along the way? The NPCs are pretty entertaining without being overbearing, dry wit in ample supply in addition to the clear cut quests. I feel as though the vault's true purpose was to show us what we want more than anything in the game, and that's more challenges to overcome. We the players would find it boring if the PCs ended the game with an unending pile of loot, we want to keep up the lootfest ourselves. So after you beat the end boss, who was admittedly pretty easy, you get the opportunity to begin again, but stronger this time. There's a bit of side mentions of cyclical time to help handwave this, which I appreciate, separates it from most other games in that regard. At it's heart the game did have issues with it's writing however. While I did enjoy the more serious tone of the game the slight lean towards humor was very fitting for it, dark humor injected here and there helps to keep it from being too dry. But it felt like a tipsy guy trying to keep his composure, giggling to himself one minute and standing stone faced the next. This was later "fixed" via the DLCs and sequels, going from leaning towards humor to diving headfirst into it. But that left the first game in an awkward position, it's pretty light story doesn't nearly compare to later games in the series. However what was in the game was fairly well done, I'm judging it by it's initial release, not taking the DLCs into account. The main character's lacked good insights into them as people, perhaps to help us associate with them better, but when it comes to a story I want to know how a character reacts, feels about their world. For what it is I have to give the game a 15/20 in the story/concept category. Excellent loot based FPS, subpar story but cool world. Borderlands thrives on it's FPS mechanics. Wonderful gunplay, metric fucktons of guns to utilize and useful character perks to utilize. Want to turn a hawk into an AC-130? You can do that. Shift through reality while running like Speedy Gonzales? Yeah, kinda. Punch shit like, really really hard? Brick shithouse at your service. Ammo spewing, ally healing and bone hurting bullet shooting turret? You'll be making people go owie pretty fast. Along the way you'll gain a bunch of passive and activated abilities too, which are a staple of any perk based game nowadays. Come to think of it Skyrim has perk trees that kinda remind me of Borderlands, would be interesting if it was partially inspired to do so by the surprise hit. Anyway, gotta give the game.e a high five for it's system, it works fantastically. As it's a loot based FPS, you have a backpack that slowly gets upgraded over time. Which is great because after a certain point you end up drowning in grenade mods, shields and weapons after wading through a dungeon. Ooh, speaking of I should expand those things. First off we have those lovely modifiers for your grenades, teleporting, sticky, you name it. Hell, the healing ones are my favorite, a plethora of devastating health sucking good vibes at your fingertips. Your shields are like a secondary health bar that refill over time on their own, plus cool side effects to give you little bonuses. Stuff like resistance to elemental attacks, faster recharging or beyond average shield count. Borderlands' dungeons are some of the most fun I've had in a while. Not too big, ripe with hostiles and loot, perfect for an hour of stomping through with friends. Of course where Borderlands truly shines is in it's open air bandit camps. As I said before I adore the starting area, the Arid Badlands, it's handful of Skag dens and Bandit camps are some of the best fun I've ever had grinding. To me it's not even grinding, it's cathartic ass kicking. Anyway, you get a lot if dusty places to kill stuff in, plus some mountainous places later on. Overall it's world design is quite beautiful, can't really fault it beyond any spots you can get stuck in. Overall it's gameplay and mechanics earn it a solid 20/20, the little things like weapon skill building over time, class variation and just simple dumb fun in it's dungeon diving makes it a near perfect game to pop in and just tear shit up with your friends. Onto Graphics and art style. Borderlands utilizes a cell shaded design that's iconic and quite easy to recognize. Rocks pop out at you, enemies stand out amongst the backdrop and the equipment is well understood from afar. Just enough detail without it being too attention grabbing. Character designs are a bit exaggerated, but that's to be expected really. I can't fault the game for having generic visuals in terms of NPCs and the world, at the same time it also benefits from my soft spot for space westerns. So unlike a lot of shooters it gets a nice noon in the form of it's iconic style, which really helped to set it apart. Ironically it was to be more realistic, but midway through production they changed that. For the better I say. The graphics, for it's time, were/are wonderful. I say are because, well, they still look pretty good. Might not stand up to say... the sequels, but that's just due to higher resolution over time. All in all I believe it has solid graphical quality, no faults to be seen from my 100+ hours of gameplay. So to grade it on it's visuals I'd give it a 20/20, started a series strong with it's unique design, strong visuals and charming atmosphere. Space Western game's gotta have a twangy soundtrack yeah? This one does, plus some haunting tunes as well. While the gun sounds are a bit soft for me the music, both the OST and the choices for opening and ending tracks, are are superb. Opening up with Ain't No Rest For the Wicked by Cage the elephant (my favorite band) and ending with No Heaven by DJ Champion the game uses it's music to help set the mood. You aren't good guys, you are shades of anti-heroes that are on the planet of Pandora to kick ass and get loot. The reasons vary but in general you're gonna spend most of your time shooting native wildlife and locals in the face. A lot. Not much else to comment on, 15/20 in that regard. Just needs stronger sound effects. Plus more PC interaction, but that's more writing than anything else. Enjoy shooting shit? Looting shit? Then Borderlands is the game for you. Easily 30+ hours of shooting and looting, multiple playthroughs and a never-ending stream of baddies to torment even if you do "beat" the game. Not that you ever really do beat it, it's one of those games that you can keep playing forever really. And you know what? I really enjoy that. I see replayability being from two things: wanting to experience the game more/again or seeing how you can do things differently. Myself, I change very little across playthroughs, but I LOVE to feel those events again. If not for the story than for the sheer... wonder or excitement of the events. The first few nights in Minecraft, the end of a dungeon in Skyrim that deposits you at a vista and in this case just the thrill of stomping through dungeons that I've cleared dozens of times before. I can honestly play the same zone in this game for hours. For that reason I have to award it a 20/20 for longevity, just slip the disc in and keep enjoying the gift that keeps on giving. There is very little that I would change about the game, it's a bloody masterpiece as is really. But as I've said before it's lacking in the story department. Having the characters have more shit to say, either due to quests or at each other as they're out and about. Better sense of group cohesion is what I want, to feel that these guys are a group of fire forged friends out looting the countryside together. Plus expand in their back stories, have audio logs like future games had to help explain them a bit more, perhaps a personal quest or two. Hell, have their personalities and backgrounds come out via their dialogue with each other and NPCs, just enough to help us get them better without it being too distracting. Metal Gear Solid V: the Phantom Pain did this quite well, since Snake was meant to be more of a silent protagonist he had more personification via cassette tapes. Perhaps expand on the PCs via that sorta mechanic? Oh, and better SFX, guns and such. Just make it more visceral sounding, that feeling you get when you pop a bandit's head with a satisfying headshot... Enhanced with proper bullet sounds. This game helped bring back loot based games. Be they FPS, dungeon crawlers or whatever, it helped show that a non mainstream game could as much ass or even more ass as the same major releases of that year. It's art style, iconic. The atmosphere and tone, simply a pure mixture of light-hearted romp with violent lootfest. Gunplay that is up there with some of the best shooters. Very few things to complain about, it's a game you and your buddies should buy used and just pop it in to play all weekend. Gold star game overall, 90/100. Very few can match it in sheer fun, that's without taking DLCs into account.

[k-p-p-d]

Bite Me (M)

Warnings: self-indulgent Sehun smut no one asked for but here we are, mentions of blood, oral, slight pain kink

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIWI!! REMEMBER YOU LOVE ME OKAY????

Length: Sehun’s di–2602

Everything about him screamed, “Danger! Do not approach! Run or die!”  But there was something so magnetic, so irresistible that she knew she couldn’t run even if she had wanted to.  He had captured her in the trap that was his gaze from the very moment she first laid eyes on him.  From the dark glint of unbridled lust flashing in his eyes to the gracefully fluid way his body moved as he so effortlessly stalked his way across the crowded dance floor, there was something so undeniably powerful about him.  

His mysterious aura alone entranced her, but his whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he guided their bodies to the pulsing music compelled her to assent to his invitation to go somewhere more private.

The taxi ride to his apartment was spent with their lips slotted together in a series of rushed kisses and rough nips. Based on the brief trip, she expected him to rush her straight to his room as soon as they stepped through his front door.  He, however, showed her to his living room as he fetched two glasses and an ornate glass decanter filled with a perfectly aged cabernet sauvignon.  She watched him carefully pour each of them a glass, silently wondering if this show of gentlemanly smoothness was all a part of an act or a genuine part of his charms; in any case, she was still just as drawn to him as the moment she first saw him in the crowded club and the fire burning hot in her belly only reinforced her attraction.  As she lifted the glass to her lips, he broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between them.  “I can guarantee you’ve never been with anyone like me,” he boldly claimed.

She turned to face him and raked her heated gaze over his form in appraisal, lazily taking a sip of the blood-red liquid swirling against the crystalline walls of her glass.  “Physically, you’re exactly my type; so unless you’ve got some extensive criminal background and a few missing teeth, I’m curious as to how you reached that conclusion.”

He leaned forward against the counter until his face was level with hers.  “Because if you had, you would’ve listened to that instinctual voice telling you to run when you first saw me.” To emphasize his point, his irises flashed from a deep umber to vibrant gunmetal for a split second.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the change, internally questioning if she had actually seen what she saw or if it was just the alcohol finally working its way into her system.  In either case, she was not the type to back down so she retorted, “I’ve been with dangerous men before; so that’s right, you’re still my type.”

“I can assure you that I’m the most dangerous man you’ll ever be with.”

“You promise?” she teased.

“I swear it.”

“Then why are we still talking? Give me everything you’ve got,” she challenged him boldly, her eyes never once losing the bright spark of curiosity that had drawn him to her like a moth to flame.

He cocked his head to the side and arched his brow.  “I’m afraid you couldn’t handle everything I’ve got,” he taunted as he slipped the emptied glass from her fingers.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t waste my time with you tonight.  Maybe I should just go back to that club and find someone who’ll give me what I want. How does that sound?”

He shrugged, “Sounds like you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

She chuckled darkly and pushed herself off the counter, “Can’t be more of a disappointment than being with someone so gun shy like you,” she tossed over shoulder as she sashayed towards the door.

In a flash, his chest was pressed against her back as his hand slammed against the door, effectively caging her in.  Which was exactly what she had wanted.  “I never said I was gun shy,” he growled.

She spun around her heel and stared straight into his eyes.  “Then what are you?”

“A monster.”

She scoffed, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. Dead serious, even.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then prove it.”

“Famous last words,” he chuckled, his lips stretching into that irresistibly seductive smirk she had already become accustomed to.  She parted her lips to toss out a witty retort at his comment, but the words died on her tongue and her heart skidded to a halt as she saw it—or rather, them: Ever so slowly, a pair of bone white canines extended downward to rest on top of his plump lower lip.  “Am I still your type?”

She wanted him.

No, she needed him.  She needed him to wrap his arms around her as he held her tight while he steadily pushed her toward the most devastatingly intense climax of her life, no matter the cost.  If he wanted her to lay her soul bare beneath him in order for her to be granted admittance to the paradise that only his body could bring, so be it.  Without so much as a word, she lurched forward to crash her lips against his–fangs and fear be damned–as she wholeheartedly devoured his mouth in a heated kiss left her panting and flushed when they finally parted.  “Fuck yes,” she rasped.

He scooped her up, positioning her legs around his tapered waist, and carried her into his bedroom.  He laid her down against the soft satin of his bedding.  Slowly, he slid his fingers around her throat, pressing just hard enough to grip on the staccato rhythm of her pulsing heart.  “Are you scared?” he murmured as his nose traced along her jawline up toward her ear.  She opened her mouth to deny it, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Don’t lie.  Fear smells delicious on you.”  He flicked his tongue out to swipe along the shell of her ear.  “I wonder if you’ll taste just as delectable.”  He shifted his thumb upward to tilt her neck to the side.  Pouty lips ghosted over the exposed flesh in kisses that were meant to be comforting, but instead only teased her further and pulled a bawdy whine from her parted lips.  Upon hearing the needy sound, he pulled back slightly, his kohl-lined eyes deeply piercing the slightly dazed yet undeniably alluring eyes slowly sliding closed beneath him.  “What was that?” he taunted huskily.

Suddenly, she hitched a leg around his waist and rolled them until she was sat straddling his lap.  Reaching down, she ran her fingers through his tussled locks and leaned down until her lips were barely touching his.  “Don’t,” she breathed dangerously low, her nails embedding themselves into his scalp, digging a deep growl out of him, “tease me.”

His lips curled upward into a wicked smirk as he sat up, gripping her hips tightly as he rolled upward to brush his arousal against her hidden folds.  “Then tell me what you what you want.”

“Bite me.”                  

“Thought you’d never ask,” he purred devilishly, the amethyst flecks in his platinum irises glowing brightly in the dimly lit bedroom.  Dipping his head, his lips attached themselves to the column of her neck in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, the ivory daggers of his fangs just barely pressing hard enough for a faint sting to make her breath hitch.  He stretched his jaws wider to better position his elongated fangs over her pumping veins.

Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, her fingers clutching that much tighter onto his inky black strands, lips parted and breath shallow as she desperately urged, “Do it.”

He tsked, “So impatient.” Before she could register what was happening, he had flipped their positions once more; this time however, she lay beneath him bare as the tattered fabrics of her dress flittered onto the ground.  He slung one of her perfectly toned legs over his broad shoulder and carefully littered pecks across the expanse of her smooth skin as he worked his way down to the valley of her hips.  With adept skill that she was certain took him centuries to perfect, he hooked a fang beneath the band of her lacy panties and dragged the flimsy fabric down off her leg. Turning his head, he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the flesh of her inner thigh, letting the smooth surface of his elongated canines glide along her supple flesh, as he worked his way upward toward her flooded temple.

“For fuck’s sake,” she panted heavily, rolling her hips forward in a failed attempt to get his mouth where she desperately needed it. “You might have all eternity but I don’t so stop teasing me!” she pleaded weakly.

He chuckled darkly, “As you wish.”  With that, he flicked his tongue out to swipe along the slick folds of her heated core. She cried out at the sudden pressure against sensitive folds and dug her nails harder into his hair. The dull ache radiating from his scalp only spurred him to work his tongue faster and harder as he worshiped every inch of her temple. He massaged her pearl with his wet muscle as he carefully worked in a long, slender finger between the velvety walls of her innermost dominion. With every broken cry and high whine he coaxed from her lips, his nostrils flared as he inhaled the heady scent of her arousal and the spicy notes it injected in her blood that coursed so dangerously close to the surface of her skin.   If he were a weaker man, he would have given into her bawdy cries and bitten into the supple flesh of her tantalizing thighs to gorge himself on the intoxicating crimson elixir that called out so seductively to him. But his will was strong and his determination stronger; he licked, rubbed, nipped, laved, and fingered her to the edge of bliss thrice over until she was begging him with tears streaking her cheeks to give her more, more, more, more!

Deftly, he flipped her quivering body over until her rounded ass was perched high in the sky and her cheek lay against a plush pillow. The sight alone was alone to make his mouth water and bloodlust spike.  A raw need to claim her as his steamrolled through him, which made him reach forward and land two vicious slaps across her ass.  His eyes smoldered as he hungrily watched the soft skin jiggle as a result of the sudden blows.  Far too gone in that moment rock continue to drag out the torturous teasing, he aligned her hips against his and smoothly slid in.  Their combined sighs of relief rang through the air for a brief moment before she quietly commanded, “Move.”

He needn’t be told twice.  Snapping his hips forward, he rolled his hips forward in a steadying yet bruising pace as he pushed them both up the steep mountain of unadultered ecstacy.  Her breathy moans, needy whines, and broken cries accented the overwhelmingly alluring scent of her heated blood. He wrapping his fingers around her neck once more and pulled her upward until her arched back rested against his broad chest.  He dipped his head down to swipe his tongue along the beads of sweat glistening along the side of her jaw before he purred, “I can feel how close you are. You’re so tight and wet around me. Fuck, baby, I’d never get tired feeling you. Does it feel good?”

“S-so g-good,” she managed to stammer out despite the rough slapping of their skin against each other jolting her lower body forward and hitching her breath.

“That’s right–”

“But what would feel even better,” she groaned, eyes sliding open to reveal her most fatal smoldering gaze, “is if you would fucking bite me.”

He snickered at her unapologetic demand. “So needy.” Slowing his hips down, he pulled out from her despite her moan at the loss and turned her back over onto her back. He pushed her legs as far apart as they could go and entered her once more, though this time much more slowly than either of them expected or wanted. “Look at me,” he commanded lowly. Once her eyes were locked onto his, he began to thrust hard yet slowly into her. “Keep your eyes on me. I need to see your face when you cum.”  Steadily, he worked to them back towards the steep edge of climax. The sounds of slick skin sliding against slicker skin and burning flesh connecting with slightly chilled flesh echoed through the room as they purred naughty nothings to each other in hopes of falling into the abyss of orgasmic pleasure together.

“I’m close,” she called out on a particularly hard thrust.

“It’s going to hurt when I do it,” he warned huskily as he postioned his mouth above the juntcture between her neck and shoulder, his eyes zoned in on the protruding vein pulsing in the most tantalizing way mere millimeters beneath his fangs. 

“D-don’t care!” she moaned wantonly as she rolled her hips upward rocking meet his, her hand shooting down to rub haphazardly against her sensitive and engorged pearl. “J-just fucking do it!”

As soon as the words left her lips, the dam holding back her orgasm shattered and the waves of ecstasy crashed over her; the scent of her peaked arousal washed over him and spurred him to finally give into her demand and into his hunger. He clamped his mouth on the desired vein and clamped down, his razor sharp fangs piercing her skin. For a brief second, she wanted to howl out as the pain overwhelmed her and scorched through her veins. But as soon as her lungs gathered enough sien to produce the sound, the pain shifted into the most indescribably intense pleasure she had ever experienced. With every pull of blood into his mouth, a rosy haze clouded her vision and a cozy warmth flooded her body, making her want to stay in his arms and let him swallow every drop shenhad to offer if only to stay in this blissful limbo.

He was all too willing to take from her.  As soon as the first drop of her sweet crimson nectar graced his tongue, his body seized up as his own orgasm shot through him. Even if he had wanted to describe in great detail how delicious she tasted, he would not be able to as there existed no words to adequately encompass the rich flavor coursing along his tongue and flowing down His throat as her blood dampened the electric barbs of hunger that had been piercing him throughout the night. He drank and he drank, gorging himself to total satisfaction. With measured discipline, he regretfully pulled his mouth away, though he couldn’t help himself and licked along the puncture wounds in order to capture any drops that might fall.  Gently, he laid her exhausted body down and pressed a chaste kiss to her neck.

“Wow,” she breathed, too lightheaded and tired to form a proper sentence.

He snickered, “I take it that it was as good for you as it was for me.”

She nodded and affirmed quickly, “God, yes!”

He smirked, “I prefer to be called Oh Sehun, but that works too.”

She groaned and rolled over to rest her head on his chest as she sleepily huffed, “Bite me.”

Sehun swiped his fingertip across the dip of her collarbone before flicking his tongue out to lick at the stray drop of blood it had collected before he grinned, his red-tipped fangs flashing brightly in the dim light, “Gladly.”

–Admin Lily💋

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[captainsbabysitter-blog]

Fly Me to the Moon V2

So, uh... I’m gonna blame @medicatemedrmccoy for tempting me to go back and write the version of this that I had in mind originally.

I might be a little sorry about this one.

Still McKirk, a lot more angst.

Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars; let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars…

It had been years since he last danced; probably sometime during the first year of marriage to Jocelyn. When the ancient tune came on over his music player, Leonard wasn’t sure what suddenly possessed him to turn toward Jim.

They were on the last day of shore leave maybe six months after the Narada incident. Jim always insisted on music while they were packing (it makes everything more fun, Bones), and it was Len’s turn to pick the music. The lyrics tugged a soft smile from Len’s lips as he watched Jim sway a little while he packed away his civvies. Instead of continuing with his own packing, Bones crept up behind his boyfriend and turned Jim to face him.

Jim blinked in confusion and chirped a quick, “Bones?” before he noticed Len’s hand held out to him.

“Dance with me, Jim?”

In other words, hold my hand…

The response was immediate. Jim’s hand was in his and Len was treated to one of Jim’s sunshine smiles that never failed to melt his heart. “You know how to dance?”

He couldn’t help the snort he gave in response. “I’ve been dancing since I was three, Jim. Just follow my lead.”

In other words, darling kiss me…

If Jim was surprised his curmudgeon doctor could dance, he hid it well. He rested his head against Len’s chest with a content sigh and followed through the room in a simple waltz. Bones felt a warm blossom of affection open in his gut and just held Jim closer. It only took a few moments before he realized Jim was humming along with the song.

Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more!

“Hey Jim?”

“Yeah, Bones?”

You are all I’ve longed for; all I’ve worshipped and adored.

“Marry me.” He’s not even sure where it came from. He sure as hell hadn’t planned on it, but even as his heart hammered away with a sudden spike of uncertainty, he knew he meant it. His breathing nearly ceased as he waited for Jim to respond.

Jim pulled back from him just enough to search Len’s face. When no recantation followed, he yanked Bones into a kiss so fierce it nearly sucked the last of the breath from his lungs. They became a tangle of arms, lips, teeth and tongues until Len realized his lungs were screaming for want of air and pulled back to pant heavily.

“So… That’s a yes, then?”

“You bet your ass! I thought you’d never ask.”

That damned cheeky grin would be the death of Len one day. He stroked his thumb across Jim’s cheek with a gentle smile of his own. “I don’t have a ring for you or anything. We’ll get one before we leave.”

In other words, please be true.

Len remembered that day as he sat beside Jim’s lifeless body just over half a year later. His fingers traced the band on Jim’s finger as he yet again fought to keep himself in check. Two weeks to the day from now, they were supposed to be walking down the aisle. Their tuxes were already hanging in their quarters. The wedding bands were in the hands of Spock and Uhura. Pike was supposed to be there; was supposed to be able to stand (or sit, really) with his husband to watch his pseudo-adopted son tie the knot.

“Dammit, kid…” his voice finally cracked as a few stray tears slipped down his cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

In other words…

After the brief moment he allowed himself, Len launched himself back into work. Anything he needed, he went to Phil for.

In other words…

There was that brief, agonizing blaze of hope when the tribble was a success. That damned ball of fur pulsed with life and it made Len think for a second- just a second- that maybe Jim would be okay.

He pulled the sample from Khan that he needed to synthesize the serum for Jim. As he injected it into Jim’s veins, Len tossed a prayer to every deity he’d ever heard of and covered his bases by imploring those he hadn’t to let this work.

I…

Waiting, watching, hoping… And finally despair. No change. Not a single blip in the biobed. Not a beep, not a ping, not a fucking sound that indicated that the tribble hadn’t been a huge waste of hope.

“Dammit, dammit, god fucking DAMMIT!” A computer terminal through the window and a litany of curses that would put any backwater dock worker to shame summoned Phil to his side.

Love…

It was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Helping his father cross over was an easier ordeal; at least David McCoy had gone out on his own terms. But Jim? There was so much he was supposed to do. Having his fiancé bury him on their wedding day wasn’t supposed to be one of them. Phil made the arrangements while keeping a close eye on Len.

The day of the service came and every member of the Enterprise stood in attendance for their fallen captain; the man that sacrificed himself for every last one of them. At the front of the pack stood Leonard, eyes dry and expression a numb. The last ray of sunshine in his life was lowered into the ground with Jim.

You.