#way to go and ruin a character that you’ve been building and moulding for over a decade!

[fizz-pop-thwip]

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #1

1. The backbone to my emotions

As someone who  cannot conceptualise  time in any way whatsoever, I want to say sorry to my loved ones. I'm aware I still need to send my friends messages every once in a while and remind them I still want to be their friends and I need to actively work on this. I need to overcome this fear stopping me from being present and accepting peoples love and support. I want to break free from me and I want to feel content being on this earth, I want nothing more than to enjoy experiences with my loved ones. I love you I love you.

I am a young charismatic, creative individual learning to do things differently so I don't always have the same outcomes. I suffer from a Cluster B Personality Disorder; under the same umbrella of mental health I also experience extremely intrusive thoughts on a daily basis, that can become obsessive and compulsively hyper fixated thoughts in an instant. I have anxiety, depression and a lot of the time I’m deeply dissociated to a point where I struggle to believe I’m even real, even when I do know I am real- I have no attachment to my limbs or body as a whole and only feel alive in a spiritual sense or when I self harm. I don't want to get too into my illnesses; as I’m not someone who really likes labels, just know that everyday is a battle and each personality that exists within me is different. I wouldn't say drastically, however its evident for me and living with so many different masks can be intense. Especially when you've tried to convince people that you're just one solid mould in the hopes they don't perceive you as an intense person. I am going to try to take you through a few of my altars and moods starting with the emptiest subconscious alters that I call the backbones of my emotions to the more powerful  energetic ones that haven't managed to yet consume me over the years. I hope this can give people an insight.

Overall I present a pretty confident front, I like to appear like I’ve got my life together even though I’m so far from it, sometimes I’m not sure ill even find the strength to go on long enough in attempt to get my life together, which is a real problem but it's the sad truth. Don't waste time reading this if you're easily triggered as this piece of writing will consist of real and genuine feelings. I’m in no attempt trying to create content for people who enjoy turning blind eyes and wishing they didn’t see this so I’ll give you a fair warning. I'm not responsible for your triggers, whereas I’m responsible for the things I’ve done. I might have cared too much at one point, but I will not hold myself captive to those situations nor will I regret them. I want the lies, deceit and hurt that I’ve committed against loved ones to end, my secrecy has done enough damage and its exhausting pushing people away even though that’s not usually the intent, truth is I am so embarrassed of myself. I'm private, secretive and mysterious but I’ll also talk about my childhood trauma after like 5 minutes. I guess this says I’m happy to talk about my trauma because it's what I know and am comfortable with, I just struggle to tell anyone the real suicidal me behind my problems. I hate that I’m so young and feel like a dead person already.

I tend to act out or distance myself due to fear which isn’t clear at first if you know me, but does become obvious. I might appear as someone with no care in the world, like I’m unbothered, but I assure you that's the African pride combined with the Leo pride. I also don't want people to treat me like a footstool, which has happened when I’ve come off ass too passive. I care so much and over think absolutely everything, it's literally my only way of thinking. I have little to no self esteem and I have no clue who confidence is unless under the influence of something, be it weed, alcohol or psychedelics (which I don't take much of because I enjoy them and don't want to abuse them) I mean I can function sober, I don't even like to be out of control high or drunk, but as Chief Keef once said, I hate being sober. #i'mTrash4thereference. Although I’m not fully healed and functioning yet, I’m a developed character with both positive and negative traits. At the moment I’m going back and fourth between 'just stop trying' and 'you cant give up'. Sometimes depression is kind of like looking at yourself through a window, there’s this part of your brain that understands it'll pass, but you’re so far into despair that its impossible to see the way out, its a lot like being trapped. I am having a bad patch right now, the difference between this one and the last one is I’m more self aware with less of a desire to go on. At least I’m no longer suffering from paranoia and thinking everyone's out to get me all the time or that I’ll get trafficked walking home from somewhere, but depression and mania are so bloody invasive and there’s always that little voice in my head telling me ill never be good enough. Executive dysfunction kills my motivation because I have so many things to do and I cant pick anything to start first, it gets worse when my depression gets worse too. I'm not lonely though; I have a few people who care for me- and while I'm trying to not involve them in the metal episode, they are around to talk to and that means so much. My friends are super encouraging even though I've only briefly mentioned that I'm having a sad time right now, and that's awesome.

I hate that no matter how much better I get there's still this deep desire to get worse. I don't feel like a real person. I just feel like a collection of what people want me to be and various mental disorders. It would be so cool if I could admit to the world I have a personality disorder without feeling disgusting and without fear.

I've had plenty time to reflect upon every bit of thought that created the barbed wire surrounding my logical brain, I want to feel okay to be alive, but I so strongly just want to die. I am tired of fluctuating from feeling extremely vigorously suicidal to passively suicidal; where I just don't have the energy to carry it out myself. It's gotten way past the point that it doesn't matter what kind of day I have, I think about killing myself all day. Sleep is an escape from life and I'm always tired and wanting to 'sleep'. Deep down I feel like I’m waiting for the right time to end my life and it's not the right time yet because I still have a footprint to leave behind, I still have journal pages I want to burn. I cant just jump off the highest accessible building or mall car park I could find just yet- I don’t just want to ruin others by hurting them with my death. It's sad to think I grew into this mindset, waking up wishing I was dead.

Being abandoned by many people in the past made me doubt people and think everyone was out to get me or wanted something from me, it made me feel hurt and lone. So I felt it would be better to let people down before they could hurt me so I wouldn't repeat the same cycle when forming new connections. It wasn't intentional but I could just silence myself due to fear.

I just found myself feeling immensely hopeless, like I was too internally enraged at the external world to be able to trust anything of it. I definitely do want to get better because I’m tired of feeling this way, it's so exhausting and I hate pushing people away from me like I’m poison. I need to allow people to accept all of me.

Before picking up these coping mechanisms when I was younger and more insecure; I wanted to be a part of the world, I had this strong urge to fit in. I had to learn how to manage my anxiety and socialising became more exhausting stemming from my fear of being 'odd' or 'different', I didn’t want to be called out for being different- it was not a compliment at that age, it always felt like a being the joker in the card deck. I was intensely afraid of being judged or labelled as such. Being told I was a 'weirdo' didn't help at all, that type of criticism is what got to me the most. People made me feel like I needed to change, like I was too African, even in a joking manner it didn't help- because although I was okay with who I was, I did feel like I had to change and westernise myself to fit in. I ended up hanging around with people that didn't care, doing stupid things I didn’t even want to do, dating people I didn't connect with. Eventually I got tired of people using me for entertainment, tired of catering to those who refused to understand. I still have to admit there were many periods that I lowered my frequency to be on the wavelength of others that did not match mines at all, I hate that I'm someone who always feels the need to explain myself so people don't think I'm a bad person and even though I don't owe it to everyone and now I am able to make better choices and I'm no longer easily influenced, it still hurts that i was ever around people that made me feel like I was over exaggerating my mental health or uncomfortable to a point where I learned to downplay it or the mention of it. Now as a coping mechanism I’ve become so facetious and sarcastic about my trauma it's a struggle to take myself seriously at times. Users and abusers belittled me to such a point where I felt they'd underestimated my intelligence and most of all humiliated me. It made me tired of justifying myself so now most days I’m just a mute, but I really do finally have good people in my life who deserve some sort of explanation and it's a shame they don't get to be experience a truly present consistent me. It’s just after having the wrong eyes on me, I don’t want anything to see me. I hate attention because I’m so embarrassed of myself I don’t want to be noticed. People looking at me make me want to kill myself.

I've been told to move past my rage, to let go and become a grounded and level headed person. I've been told there is hope for all of us. Must be nice to believe that, all I could wonder was what it was like to get angry without getting homicidal and suicidal. Even on most days where nothing extreme would happen besides negative emotions, my brain still travelled to a dark realm. I've come to a point where I want to live in my daydream universe wile I physically rot away. That's my business. Sometimes I feel as though all my friendships are on a timer, or more so it's that my timer is about to go off, so I subconsciously shy away and make sure i have no deep friendships. Just in case my head decides to do something stupid.

I don't want to have no friends, I want to have friends and I do value friendships so much more than entitled relationships, I just have a difficulty maintaining friendships because it's exhausting for me, it takes a lot of energy to be social and on a level that isn't just superficial where I can just let go and allow myself to fully be. Sometimes I have a hard time relating to other people, and thus I may feel I don’t belong or don’t quite fit in- causing me to feel irritated, paranoid or even in pain during social situations. It's not always this bad, and I don't mean for it to sound dramatic. It's different when In person and I’m really relaxed and comfortable with the company. However virtually socialising and expressing will always be extremely anxiety enducing and its something I need to overcome especially going into this new phase of Artificial Intelligence.  So if I start to drift away it most likely isn't a reflection of you. The cycle goes I need alone time to recharge then I realise how long has passed and I just feel so bad I haven’t gotten back, I tell myself I’m an awful friend for dissociating for so long, and then I don’t know how to explain that so my anxiety rises, mood drops and I spiral back into a pit of depression, often wanting to relapse but refraining from doing so. Sometimes I manage to get out of the pit, but by then so much has piled up I don't know where or how to begin again.

I don't feel like I could have a normal friendship as well as romantic relationship. It's hard for me to long term imagine myself being fully relaxed enough to let my guard down and not reluctant to express. I don’t think there’s any condition where ill just be came and enjoy a connection without worrying that the other person isn’t putting in as much effort, or they have an image of me, or that I’ve amplified the emotions and even though I feel them that way do they really understand me or love me as much. Silence is so upsetting and I hate the fact I do it when I'm afraid of myself or don't feel good enough. I never intent for it to become 'the silent treatment' because in reality its not treating anyone, it's more a reflection of what I’m internalizing and not wanting or being unable to project and express those feelings without feeling like party pooper, an attention seeker or 'too deep'. I don't mean to give people false hope, I love the people in my life so much and every one I’ve met on this journey. I'm learning to look at life through a different lens and the people who contributed to my suffering will not be the definition of me. People have led me to believe so much and strung me along, not letting me go- and I realised those entitled controlling abusive relationships were not serving me. I couldn't keep doing it. Now even though I want closeness I end up pushing people away or leaving them in the dark because of fear, especially of something new because I've never experienced anything good and true for a long enough duration of time to rid me of that fear. I also have fear of rejection or hurting, I fear becoming too emotionally invested and becoming co dependant so I end up wanting to avoid the pain than actually wanting to experience the joy and growth the relationship could offer, so I end it before it begins to avoid any possible pain. I feel like I don't deserve these connections,and sometimes the depression runs so deep I have to push people away in case I want to do something stupid- I don’t want them to feel at fault, or obligated to be able to handle me. Sometimes I really can just only be with myself and my thoughts so I hide but it may appear that I’m pushing others away because of my isolation and neglect.

With everyone I know, I get this feeling that they're too good for me, their energy is so radiant and loving but I feel so broken and don’t want to depend on that. I've had perfectly ideal people come into my life and I feel they’re too good for me because I have a lot of work to do on myself first, primarily I need to build up confidence and self esteem because it's the root of most my issues. I want to relate to people, share our deepest fears and wishes without fear of judgement. It's not that I don't want to get better, I simply cannot remember what it was like to have an actual honest to god normal personality. The feeling of being a mentally unstable chameleon is all I have  now. I AM my illness, that's the only identifier I have left. I can't remember normality.

I understand that I’m lucky and I’m not ungrateful for the things and people I do have, it doesn’t mean that my life doesn’t suck because of those lucky things. I often think about if someone created technology to transfer life to another, I’d happily give them mine because they'd live it much better than me, I’m not worth anything to myself. I never wanted to be someone to cause pain on the people I love but now I do, even if that’s just through silence. I just disappear when I haven’t been doing well and  although I know things get better, recovery isn’t linear and that not all my days are bad, I just have extreme chronic feelings of emptiness.

I struggle to trust people because I don't want to be hurt but I need people so much, I hate feeling unloved. It's so overwhelming because I feel everything so extremely as if I’m going to explode.

My sense of self and reality feels destroyed, my future and dreams are uncertain and it's hard for me to move on, sometimes it scares me what I’m doing to people without the intention of it, being too much or not enough- or at least feeling that way. It's hard for me to give myself a reason and it's not on the people around me to fill my empty void, I hate forcing people to be my friend or understand my illness. I cant expect anyone to want to- it feels like I’m holding their hand while they pull it away; and even though it's not the case I feel awful, I constantly feel like I’m in a more pessimistic head space. I'm worried people will realise I'm as pathetic as I say I am.

[spacehologramcollection]

Playing with fire.

Okay. So this is kind of leading on from my Love Bite reaction headcanon for Kabal. It also ended up eluding to my major smut fic for him, which is like 10,000 words long. So, here is a little smutty taster, almost. In which Kabal and the reader have a phone conversation, wink-wonk.  Warnings; Smut, NSFW, sexy times, cum, some angst at the end. 18+ under the cut.  Pairings; Kabal (Pre-burn) and F! Reader.  Word count; 3661.  GIF not mine, doesn’t belong to me/ I didn’t make it. 

Kabal sighed. This mission was taking the piss. Kano had upped the stakes, he wanted to go for a bigger prize. Leaving him and Erron tailing behind, changing plans as they went along. Erron had a date, Kabal hadn’t asked, he didn’t care. He was too pissed to care. He glanced down at his phone, no new messages. He gripped it tight before pocketing it for the hundredth time. He was alone in the Hotel room. It was pretty nice, Kano had gone all out. Clearly trying to make up for the shit show he was running. If Kabal and Erron were pissed off, they weren’t going to work, and that meant nothing would get done. So, this was his way of trying to make it up to them. He took his phone out of his pocket, unlocked the screen and sighed. No new messages. A smile did grace his lips however. His lockscreen reminded him of why he did what he did. Y/N. It wasn’t a great image, more a selfie you’d both taken on a night out. He smiled before running a hand through his hair. Well, what was left of it. He threw his coat off, beginning to unstrap his gear. He’d had dinner plans with you, dinner, a movie and then hopefully, him fucking you into oblivion and back. God, he loved those kind of dates. He’d always leave his card, tell you to go shopping, pick out something nice and surprise him with it. You always had such good taste in clothes… and underwear. He could feel his pants tightening at the recent memory of the two of you together. A sensation he was beginning to regret. He couldn’t masturbate here. Not with Kano next door and Erron on the other side of the wall. He swore, they both had cock blocking powers. He tried to think of the mission tomorrow, the pay, the risk and how he was going to get in… but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The memory of your curves, the way you lips pouted and the way your hair felt in his hands. He chuckled to himself, unlocking his phone and going to his saved images. You were always such a tease when he went away. You’d sent him an abundance of images to keep him company, mostly of your ass, which he was addicted to. He was always mesmerised, watching you bounce off his cock. In addition to how perfect it moulded to his hands. A message chimed through, distracting him from a recent one. Your ass in a rather expensive thong. You’d sent him it, teasing him with you’d bought. He couldn’t give a fuck how much you spent, not when it amplified your body like that. Do you know what fucking time it is?! X You’d put an X, the danger was not real. He smiled, flopping back onto the comfy bed. Probably 8pm?? It’s like 11 here. I just wanted to say I miss you… I’m sorry about being late home ☹ I’ll make it up to you x He replied quickly. Kabal didn’t play the waiting game. He’d spent an hour waiting for you reply, fearing he’d pissed you off, or more so, Kano had done. He waited for the reply, eagerly staring at his phone; whilst fumbling with his jeans with the other. His hand brushed over his hip, causing him to wince a little… He nearly dropped his phone, looking down and spying the mark. He bit his lip. Before he’d left, you’d given him a good luck blowjob, something you always seemingly did. It kind of eased the tension and nerves you were both feeling, a distraction from the danger that was his life. But you’d left a Love Bite down on his hope bone. A mark that still blemished his skin. And was all too real. His fingers rubbed over it again, this time bringing about a familiar pleasurable sensation. He pressed it lightly, spurring his cock to life in his pants. His eyes closed, his finger circling the bite mark, wanting to re-live that night desperately. He stroked his cock through his jeans, wanting to stimulate himself, but not so much he made noise. Kano was probably listening next door. The seedy fucker. His phone chimed, bringing him out of his heightened mood. He glanced at the message. Ohh… and how will you do that? 😉 I bought something new… x He quickly replied, he had an idea of what you were playing at. If his Princess wanted to sext, then he was down for that. Pics or it didn’t happen babe… I’m thinking of you and how I’m going to make it up to you…x He awaited the reply. He had a Snapchat from you. He had never unlocked his phone as quick. Pressing the little ghost icon fast and urgently. He waited for it to open, only to be met by you, in nothing more than a sports bra and some very high waisted shorts. He bit his lip some more, watching as it suddenly disappeared. His cock was straining in his pants, his fingers still hovering over the mark. It was then he made his decision of what he was going to do…

Closing the app, he quickly scrolled down to your number, listed under Princess Peach. It wasn’t after the Mario Character. Oh god no. It had a more sinful meaning. You were his Princess and your ass was perfect, put two and two together, and you’ve got yourself a Pet name. He listened for each ring. One. Two. Three. Oh god, why weren’t you picking up… Four. Five. “Hello?” You asked. A groggy and confused tone played on your chords. “Babe. I need you.” He whispered, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. Not realising how guttural it was sounding. He heard a faint laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” You teased, you’d fully woken up now. Kabal smirked, standing up and shuffling out of his jeans and underwear. Finally freeing his aching cock from its confines. He rubbed the head, pre-cum was beginning to leak out. “Yeah, yeah… what you doing now?” He asked. He admired himself in the wardrobe mirror. He had an athletic build, one that he’d spent years maintaining. He spied the various marks on his abdomen, you’d really gone to town on him last time. Each mark was blemishing, some looked darker and more prominent; whilst others looked ready to fade, he’d have to ask you to bite harder next time. “Nothing much… just laid here. Please don’t ask me what I’m wearing.” You joked, phone sex was never your jam. You wanted to reach out and touch him, feel him, and have him for real. This, this was nothing more than teasing. “What are you wearing?” he asked. Sitting down on the bed once more, he began to stroke his cock slowly. You moaned a little into the phone, as if you were stretching, and trying to make it sound erotic. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m just laid on your side of the bed, wishing you were here.” You teased, your hand starting to circle your clit. He let out a laboured, moan filled breath. As if trying to contain himself. “Fuck, I wish you were here too Y/N. I need you to leave more marks…” He whispered. He was sure you could barely hear him at this point. He didn’t want anyone interrupting him. He heard you giggle, before hearing you let out a moan. “Let me ride your face again, and I’ll think about it.” You offered. Kabal gripped his cock tighter, remembering that night. You’d come to him, shy, asking if he’d be okay if you rode his face. He’d never been more excited to give you oral in his life. He gripped your ass and thighs, encouraging you to go faster. His tongue was numb by the time he was through with you. He swore he could still taste you on his lips. “You’ve ruined me Karlos Kabal.” You teased, your fingers were working overtime, trying to coax an orgasm from you. He’d gotten you all worked up, sleep wasn’t going to come until you did. Kabal laughed. “Why’s that Princess?” He knew the reason why. Your moans were an indicator. You scoffed, your fingers quickening on your clit. “My fingers are nothing now. Now I’ve had your tongue and your hands on me.” You whined. A hand went down to tweak your nipple. Pinching the pebbled bud, trying to elicit a more natural moan. “Not easy for me either Princess. Not after I’ve had your cunt and mouth… Oh god, nothing better than… watching you bounce on my cock, that perfect ass of yours backing up onto it.” He moaned a little. Louder than he had hoped. But he couldn’t have cared less. He was getting close, and he wasn’t going to stop chasing his high. Not for no man. His grip increased on his shaft, his pace had quickened, and he was busy brushing the mark with his spare hand. Acting as if it was your tongue, going back to darken and strengthen the marks presence. “Kabal… Fuck me…” You whined, you had no idea what to say. He was always far better at dirty talk then you were. “God, I miss your cunt… I miss it clenching around me, I miss everything about you…” He let slip the last part. He did miss you though. He missed your hugs, your smile and your kisses. But now wasn’t the time to get sentimental. “Are you any close Princess?” He asked, continuing to work his shaft, slowing down to prolong the experience. You rubbed your clit harder, bucking up, wishing you had his cock embedded deep into your cunt.

You quickly popped the phone on loud speaker, the joys of being alone. Within a few seconds, your fingers were buried deep into your cunt. Matching the speed and pace of your rubs. This would easily push you over the edge. “Close now… I wish I was cumming on your cock and not my fingers.” You quickly said, embarrassment flaring up. It was different over the phone, you couldn’t see his reaction or gauge how much he was enjoying it. He moaned into the phone though, so he must have liked it. “I wish it was too Princess, but god, when I get back. I am going to fuck you raw.” He stated, his teeth clenched, and his brow furrowed. “Just what a Princess deserves?” You teased. Kabal laughed, his tone was getting hard to control. But his last care had gone. All his fucks had offed and fucked off home. “A Princess as sinful as you, yeah.” He informed you. He could feel the familiar sensation in his balls, he was going to cum. A hand left the bite mark he’d been idly toying with, it taking its place in his hair, ready to pull at it. “Princess, I’m about to cum, could you please…” He didn’t have to ask you. A moan ripped from your throat. You were close, closer than he probably was. Your memory racked back to your last night together. Watching his muscles clench as he fucked you, how his arms would tense up and soften. How he gritted his teeth, barred them, revealing the little gap he had in his front teeth. Little quirks that got to you. Quirks, only you saw, because you were up and close with him. You remembered the feel of his fingers on your clit, begging, coaxing and trying to elicit an orgasm from you. How you kept fucking him, riding his cock, and making a state out of yourself. Whining, moaning and bucking like a fucking whore. But he loved it. How he’d lean back, angling his thrusts just right, to get that sweet spot; the spot that would have you moaning his name. Loud enough that the neighbours complained. You tried to get he same effect with your fingers, but it was just missing something. Something only Kabal had. “Kabal!” You moaned out. Volume control was the last of your priorities. You bucked up against your hand, your cunt trying to fuck itself fully out onto your digits. You bit your lip, trying to mimic how he pulled and tugged at the flesh. Your fingers raked your sides, in a feeble attempt to mimic his movements. Nothing would ever be the same, not after you’d had the Black Dragon Enforce yourself. “Such a good Princess, cumming for me like that. Fuck, I wish I’d made you do that…” He moaned. He felt need and want stir in his abdomen. The familiar elastic band sensation striking up. He was close. All the panic, nerves and anger washed over him. He thought of you and the last night you’d spent together. Racking his brain for the perfect moment to reminisce over.

It was a tossup, between you riding his face, moaning so filthily. How many sinful words escaped your lips, how you had to grab the headboard to control yourself. How your cunt clenched around his tongue and how you tasted. Riding out your orgasm, whilst he gripped your ass with one hand, and stroked his cock to completion with the other. Or it was when he fucked you roughly last. When you’d come to him, asking if he fancied going a bit rougher, he was more than happy to oblige. Letting you have your sinful fantasy. He’d fucked you doggy style, your ass bouncing back to meet his thrusts; your cunt practically swallowing his cock whole, pulling against it, begging it to not leave. The feel of it seemed all too real, how warm and wet it felt.  His hands wrapped tightly around your hips, using them to help his thrusts. How you were moaning, muttering swears and his name, as if they were a prayer on your lips. Praying for salvation to take you and to allow you to cum… one hand had stimulated your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the over-sensitized bud. He could never let you walk away with a singular orgasm. It wasn’t going to happen. With the memory of you cumming on his cock, your cunt clenching and pulling him in tight; he found himself cumming along with the memory. He let out one last long guttural moan, which mixed in with breathless panting; his fucks for volume control, had fucked off home. His hand went to cover the head of his cock, cumming hot spurts into his hand; with the occasional splatter landing on his abdomen. His hips bucked up furiously at first, before eventually dying down and stilling. His head hit the pillow, his chest falling and rising, an arm draped over his forehead. He allowed his softening cock to fall back, hitting his stomach. He panted a little, trying to regain his breath. He turned to see his phone, the call was still active thankfully. He placed you on speaker, reaching over to find something to clean the mess up with. “You still there, Princess?” He asked, his voice was eager and yet nervous. He wanted to hear some soft thoughts and feels from you. He always did after sex. “Y/N died, this her ghost.” You joked finally. You’d come down from your high, but after hearing Kabal’s. You were tempted to go again. Your heard him chuckle before sighing. He sounded exhausted, so you thought it best to leave it… for now. Kabal rooted around for a towel, but there wasn’t one. He shrugged his shoulders and reached for his old vest, cleaning himself and his hands on it. “I love you Y/N, you know that?” He asked you, a smile gracing his lips. Imagining you back at home, laid in bed, waiting for him. “I love you too Karlos with a K.” You joked. A little inside joke the two of you had. When he told you his name was ‘Karlos’ you’d instantly spelt it with a ‘C’ only to have him correct you. It became a shitty inside joke, but it felt better that way. “You fancy staying awake and keeping me company?” He asked, his voice sounded hopeful. Usually, after you’d cuddle and watch some TV. “Mmm depends.” You teased. Kabal scoffed, raising an eyebrow, before rooting around for his discarded boxers. “Oh? And what’s that?” He asked you. Curious to what you were wanting. “If I get a photo of you, right now, glasses on. No shirt.” You were a simple woman, who took simple pleasures in life. Kabal smirked, pulling his boxers on, he rooted around in his bag. Pulling out the case and glaring at the thick frames. “You don’t ask for much do you? I could literally offer to buy you the world, and all you’d want is me.” “Are you complaining?” You knew he wasn’t, but you wanted to hear him say it. “Am I fuck.” He replied. He loved you for everything you were, because well, you loved him for everything he was.

Between his gapped teeth, glasses and obsession with geek culture; he was sure he wasn’t the ‘bad boy’ you’d always dreamed of. He was also sure, you’d figured that out when you stepped foot in his apartment. How you raised an eyebrow at his bookcase, admiring the fact, there was more graphic novels than actual novels. He placed them on, his vision becoming slighter clearer. He only needed them for reading, which explained why he detested it so much, and screen time. But you loved them on him. He reorganised what little hair he had left. Tying it up into more of a bun than a flick. He debated taking a photo in the mirror, but, he opted for the traditional selfie angle. He pulled his usual goofy face, smiling, displaying his ‘worst’ features. Features he hated on himself, but you loved. He sent the image to you. “You look so cute… sorry, man you look so fucking hot. I mean, look at that. That’s a man right there.” He snorted. “Oh yeah, definitely not a man who, till he met you, didn’t realise warm penguins were a thing. And who can’t read without glasses. Surprised I’ve never accidentally cummed in your hair. Vision gets a little blurry.” He admitted, falling back onto the bed. His body ached and he was tired. Sleep was going to take him soon. “I’m going to have to sleep Princess. The Speed Demon is tired. Kano has been busting my ass all day. And it’ll be the same tomorrow. Gotta be nice to the boss man, or he won’t pay me. And I won’t be able to spoil you.” He informed you, yawning a little. “You don’t have to spoil me. I’d rather have you, you know that… even if you didn’t know warm penguins were a thing. Be safe tomorrow.” You smile meekly. Looking back at the photo, you’d screenshotted it. Placing it as your wallpaper. Replacing the previous one, a rather cute photo he’d sent you, when he’d just woken up. “I know babe, I know. But, I kinda like this job. Everything will be fine tomorrow, I always am fine.” He reassured you. You tried to relax but you couldn’t. Something was bugging you. “Right, I love you. I’m going to be fine tomorrow, Kano will light a fire under my ass if I’m cranky. I love you so much Princess. Dream of me, yeah?” He smirked. “I love you too. Night Cablehead.” You joked, ending the call and looking back at your phone. You missed him so much, and you couldn’t wait to have him home safe with you.

                                                                                          * The next morning, Kabal had met up with Kano and Erron. He was more chipper than expected. Erron didn’t want to know, it didn’t concern him, so why would he ask? Kano, on the other hand, had a shit eating grin on his face. “You er, have fun last night?” He asked, smirking, leaning back against the Planes wall. Kabal tensed up, side eying the Australian. “It was alright. I would have preferred to have been home, some of us have Girlfriends, that actually, you know. Give a shit about us.” He retorted. Kano, as much as he talked himself up, didn’t maintain relationships. He destroyed them. Purposefully. Deep, meaningful connections meant nothing to the man. It was all about who his next piece of ass was going to be. It was a stark reminder for Kabal. Twenty years and he’d be the same age as him. He didn’t want to end up like him at all. He thanked is lucky stars to have found you. A woman, that loved him, for what he was. A hot, sarcastic mess of a man. Who liked Star Wars and liquorice cables. “Sounds like you had a right time with her mate.” He asked. Kabal gritted his teeth, looking back down at his mission briefing. Kano’s mocking and digging was nothing new, he didn’t mind, as long as it didn’t involve you on a personal level. You weren’t one of his whores. “Oi, cheer up. We’re getting paid big today. Then you can go back home to your Princess. Just you and her, her knight in shinning glasses.” Kabal bit his tongue. He wouldn’t have to put up with Kano’s shit much longer. “You better pay up.” He warned. Kano laughed, slapping his shoulder harshly. “I will. I’m a man of my word. But you keep that tone, and one day you’re going to get burned.” Kano warned. Causing Kabal to snort. “Ain’t gonna happen.” He lent back against the planes wall. Opening his phone and checking his messages. Nothing new, but you were probably still sleeping. Blissfully unaware that what was due to happen in the next four hours, would change your life and dynamic with him forever.