#Got a meeting today and i need to look mentally and physically healthy. I totally got this. 😎😎😎 Look achieved.

[satans-knitwear]

Gonna seduce ur boss and their boss and their bosses boss etc. Then redistribute the wealth among the people. Whos in?

Treat me (wishlist) ~ Tip (pypl) me (cshpp)

[ticklishfiend]

Angry Little Guy

My Hero Acadameia - Kirishima/Bakugou

A/N: heyyy haven’t written in a hot minute (again lmao)!! my mental health has been taking a tolls recently so writing has been hard, but i still hope y’all enjoy what i wrote today!! i love these boys sm and i hope to write some more for them in the future :) hope u enjoy!! xx

Summary: After Ms. Joke visits the school and forces Bakugou to laugh after he was being a grumpy-butt in class, Kirishima can’t help that he just wants to hear that cute little laugh again. But when Bakugou refuises to laugh any other way, Kirishima decides to use some...persuasive methods :))

Word Count - 2,550

—

Today was a physical training day for Class 1A, all the students gathering in the training gym in their matching blue and red outfits ready for whatever task Aizawa had prepared for them that day. Aizawa’s demeanor today, however, was just a little…off. Sure, he was being hs regular boring, monotonous self, but something about the way his eyes seemed to sink deeper into their sockets, and the way his back seemed somehow more slouched than usual, showed that the class’s teacher was a little more annoyed today than he already was regularly.

“Does Aizawa-Sensei seem more…upset than usual?” Kirishima scratched his neck worriedly, heck cocked as he watched Aizawa pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know, man, the guy’s never exactly been the bubbly type. Maybe he just got less sleep than normal,” Denki shrugged, his eyes also meeting the groggy teacher stood in front of their whole class. “What do you think, Bakugou? Think Aizawa woke up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sparkplug, he’s about to start class,” Bakugou grumbled, not even glancing down at his bright blonde counterpart for a second.

“Okay everyone, it’s time to shut up,” Aizawa spoke loudly, his eyes tense as he stared the teens in front of him down. The mumbles in the room went silent as Aizawa began his lesson. “Today’s gonna be a little…different. Despite my pleas against this, you’ll be taught your training by a different pro-hero today from Ketsubutu High.”

Muffled whispers slowly rose up from the crowd of teens before Aizawa, mumbling predictions of who the hell could be teaching them today and why it wasn’t someone already from their school. Of course, as always, Iida’s hand was the first to shoot up and question this strange decision.

“Aizawl-Sensei, why are we being taught by a teacher from another school? Why not use any of the many teachers we have available at UA?”

“Unfortunately, Nezu believes it would be best for you all to not only be trained by the same heroes, as you need to widen your options for training techniques, especially considering many of you need to learn better techniques of distraction. Which is exactly why they’ve brought in-“

“Helloooo~!” The gym doors behind the students’ burst open, a female figure standing in the doorway with her hands on his hips and a bright, wide smile imprinted on her face.

“Oh no way!” Sero pointed excitedly towards the woman. “It’s Ms. Joke!”

“That’s right, future pro-heroes!” Ms. Joke began making her way over toward Aizawa, his glare on her intensifying with every step she got closer.

“Ohhh, now I get why he’s been so moody all morning,” Kiri whispered to Denki, the two sharing a knowing glance as they both grinned.

“Joke, why are you so late? You were supposed to be here an hour ago so we could discuss-“

“Oh cmon, Eraser, don’t be so serious! Just got caught up in a little morning traffic is all, plus spreading a few smiles along the way!” Joke grinned widely at the stoic man beside her. “Y’know, I’m always happy to spread a few more smiles as long as they’re coming from your cute little face-“

“That’s enough, Joke. Please get on with the lesson,” Aizawa rolled his eyes, refusing to look over at his extremely smiley counterpart.

“Whatever you say, future husband!”

“Not your future husband-“

“Okay guys! So who here knows about my quirk and can explain it properly to the rest of the class?” Joke asked, followed by multiple hands shooting up into the air, Deku’s even waving about excitedly (as this IS his favorite thing in the world to discuss).

“Hmm…how about…you! Mr. Grumpy in the front!” Joke exclaimed, pointing towards Bakugou. His arms were crossed in contempt, eyes glaring into Joke’s happy persona like his gaze alone could burn right through it.

“I didn’t even raise my hand,” Bakugou scowled at his higher-up, his stance never wavering. “How do you know I have any idea who you are?”

Ms. Joke smirked at Katsuki. “Y’know, teachers talk, Bakugou,” the mention of his name made his eyes grow a little wide in surprise, not expecting her to know him by name. “Sure, I know you from the sports festival, but I also know you from a little more than that. I know that you’re an angry little guy who doesn’t like not being at the top, and you find satisfaction in knowing more than your peers. I also know you’re very smart, and you’re well educated on the status of most- if not all- pro-heroes today.  So, I’ll ask again; can you please explain to the class what my quirk is and how it functions?”

A silent but stressed pause fell over the group of teens. None of them had expected Joke to get so analytical on Bakugou like that, and it made them all feel a little fearful of what the “angry little guy” had to say next to her next. Bakugou’s glare on the woman deepened, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You can make people laugh uncontrollably, basically making it easier for you to fight them with one-on-one combat. And if you want me to be honest,” Bakugou’s face contorted into an ugly smirk, his arms crossing tighter as his body leaned in ever so slightly towards the hero. “-it’s one of the lamest quirks I’ve ever seen from a pro-hero.”

The air in the room was suddenly 10x thicker than before, almost making it harder for the students to catch a healthy breath. Ms. Joke only smiled fondly at the teen before her, walking closer to him until they were face-to-face.

“Y’know Bakugou…ever since I saw you perform at the sports festival, seeing you so red-faced and angry the whole time, I couldn’t help but wonder…” Joke’s hands went to her hips as Bakugou’s smirk slowly began to fade. “…does that guy ever really laugh?”

Suddenly and without warning, Bakugou began belting out one of the screechiest laughs anyone in that gym had ever heard in their lives. His arms came down to his stomach, harshly crushing his abdomen as if this would cease the laughs at any capacity. After a second, one of his hands shot towards his mouth, after he must’ve finally realized how embarrassingly girly his laugh must’ve sounded.

“Oh my god, no way! Bakugou can laugh!” Denki shouted, pointing at the hysterical boy in front of him. The rest of the class erupted into giggles, unable to contain it after hearing that contagious laugh leave that angry little man.

“SHUHUHUT UHUP! THIS ISN’T FAHAHAHAIR!” Bakugou’s screams were muffled behind his hand, but it did nothing to mask the laughs coming out of the boy.

“So, is anyone who didn’t know about my quirk starting to get how it works?” Joke giggled, Bakugou now crumbling to the floor on his knees without even meaning to. After another moment, his laughs began to die down to soft titters, before standing back up on shaky legs. To his dismay, his face was flushed an adorable shade of pink, and though everyone noticed it, no one dared to make a comment. His eyes made their way to Joke’s, an angry flash of light glaring from them.

“YOU MADE YOUR POINT YET, HAG?!” Bakugou shouted, his hands in a combat position by his sides, making small explosions not big enough to hurt a fly from his palms.

“Yes, actually. I think we’re ready to move on to the lesson at hand!”

-

“Man, I still feel sore after training today. Who knew Ms. Joke could be so ruthless at hand to hand combat!” Kirishima exclaimed, massaging his shoulder before turning back to his homework in his lap. He was sat crisscross on Bakugou’s bed, with said explosive teen leaning against the wall behind him also working on his homework.

“Whatever, Shitty-hair, it wasn’t that bad,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, earning him a shove on the knee from the red haired teen beside him.

“You’re just mad she had you laughing like a little girl in front of the class and you KNOW it!” Kiri chuckled.

“Hell yeah I’m mad, I’m fucking pissed! That hag had no right to do that, it made me look like a fucking idiot!” Bakugou grumbled throwing his head back and hitting the wall with a thud.

“Oh cmon, it wasn’t that bad, it was adorable! You should totally laugh like that more often, Bakubro. I know I’d sure love to hear it,” Kiri giggled, looking up at Bakugou, noting the small tinge of crimson painting his cheeks. He decided to be nice and not say anything, just like he had been at training.

“I’m not adorable, fuckface, and after that whole stunt I don’t think I’ll ever laugh again.”

“Bakubro, you know I can’t have that! I’ve gotta get my dose of Kats giggles every once and awhile, even if I have to pull em outta ya!” Kiri snickered, playfully shoving Bakugou in the shoulder. “In fact, I wanna hear you laugh right now! Cmon, gimme them giggles!”

Bakugou just looked up at Kirishima with the most blank expression he could possibly pull. Kirishima pouted, grabbing his and the other boy’s homework and moving it to the other side of the bed.

“Shitty-hair, I was working on that-!”

“Ah ah ah, Bakubro, you can get right back to your work as soon as I hear that laugh of yours that I heard earlier today!” Kirishima moved to sit cross-legged in front of Bakugou, giving him the dopiest smile he could pull in hopes to get the boy to giggle even a little.

Nothing.

“Kiri, I can’t just laugh on command. You’ve gotta do something funny, and you’re not a funny fucking person,” Bakugou’s expression remained partially blank, but Kirishima could spot that hint of mischievousness behind his eyes that got him all worked up and playful.

“Hmm…well, while I might disagree with you on that, it’s really hard to make you laugh. And trust me, I know that from experience,” Kirishima brought his hand up to scratch at his chin, looking Bakugou in the eyes experimentally. Then, a lightbulb went off over Kiri’s head.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“Um…yes?”

“Are you ticklish?” Bakugou remained unwavered, but Kirishima could tell that question made the blood boy uneasy.

“No. Can I get back to my work now, Shitty-hair?”

“I already told you, we aren’t working until I hear you laugh. And, I don’t believe you.”

“Well you should, because I’m not.”

“Then can I?” Bakugou furrowed his brows confusedly at the question.

“Can you what?” Bakugou asked, his head leaning back in confusion.

“Can I tickle you? Y’know, since you aren’t ticklish.”

“No, that’s a stupid question, why would you tickle someone who isn’t-“ suddenly, Bakugou’s words halted as Kirishima grabbed the boy by his shoulders and turned him to push his back onto the bed. He sat down on the boys waist, pinning his hands beneath his knees, effectively trapping them. “WHAT THE HELL, SHITTY-HAIR?!”

“What? You said you aren’t ticklish, so this-“ Kirishima pulled Bakugou’s shirt up just above his lower ribs, before lightly and slowly tracing shapes into the boys sides. “-shouldn’t bother you at all.”

Bakugou’s entire body was as stiff as a board, his eyes shut tight and his mouth shut even tighter. His teeth grinder against one another and titter after titter left his lips against his mind’s wishes.

“Kiri- I- Stop- hehe-wait, just hold on a minutehehe-“ Bakugou giggled lightly, his hands struggling beneath Kiri’s knees. Then, Kirishima began digging his fingers into his ribs, and that’s when all hell broke loose for the explosive boy beneath him.

“WAHRHEIT! STOHOHOHOP! NOT FAIR! NOT FAHAHAHAIR!” Bakugou twisted and turned his body, but to absolutely no avail. Kirishima was massaging circles into Bakugou’s lower ribs, and the hysterical boy under him just couldn’t take it. “See? Now THIS is what I wanted to hear, Bakubro!” Kirishima moved his right hand down to skitter his nails on the boy's lower belly, resulting in high pitched squealy giggles to leave the Bakugou's lips. "Aw, you're so ticklish! I never expected this from you, it's so cute!" Kirishima cooed, only making Bakugou's laughs to grow more frantic and panicked.

"NOHOHO! NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE! NOT CUHUHUHU- AHAHAHA!" The boy's words trailed off into even more giggles as Kirishima brought his left hand down to sueeze at his hips. "NOHOHOT THEHERE! PLEASE! I CAHAHAHANT!"

"Aww, is this a bad spot, Bakugou?~ Is it really ticklish right there?~" Kirishima teased, now moving both hands down to sueeze and spider over his hips, which proved to be one of his worst spots so far.

"YEHEHES! TIHIHICKLES!" Bakugou screamed, his legs kicking out frantically behind Kiri as the red-head experimentally moved his fingers upwards and dipped into his bellybutton.

Bakugou let out the most high pitched scream Kirishima had ever heard.

"Oh my god, dude! Is it that bad here?" Kirishima used one nail to scratch at the inside walls of the navel, while another finger skittered around the entire button.

"BAHAHAHAD! SO BAHAHAD! PLEHEHEASE!" Bakugou whined, small prickles of tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Alright, alright, i'll quit. But-" Kirishima halted momentarily, his nails resting on Bakugou's lower tummy without moving. Even with the lack of movement, Bakugou couldn't help the small giggles that left his lips, his childish giggle box already turned on it's head, making those unmoving nails feel like their skittering all over his tummy. "-first you have to admit that your laugh is adorable."

Bakugou's eyes widened. "What?! Are you crazy?! I'm not gonna say something like th-hehehe!" Kirishima slowly began skittering over his lower tummy again, his fingers slowly but surely getting closer and closer towards his navel.

"Bakugou, you are way too ticklish to just not comply with me right now. Just say what I want and I'll let you go," Kirishima smiled, bringing one hand up to skitter at his lower ribs, resulting in a surprise shriek and louder giggles from the boy. "Unless...you don't want me to stop?"

Bakugou's entire face turned beet red, and this time Kirishima just couldn't help himself. "Aw, Bakugou~! Y'know, you're way more of a blusher than you'd like to admit, but that's just another thing that makes you intesnely adorable. So say it! Say you're adorbale!"

"Nohoho! I cahaha- Kiri plehehease! Don't make mehehe!" Bakugou whined, twisting his body as if trying to escape the unstoppable fingers on his torso.

"Cmon Kats~ Just say those two magic little words~"

"Alrihihight!" Bakugou shut his eyes tight, turning his face as much as he could to try and smush his words into the mattress. "I'm...I'm adorablehehe..."

Kirishima finally halted his fingers and moved them off the boy's body, but still not getting up off of his waist. "See? Was it that hard?"

"Yes!" Bakugou whined, finally pulling his hands out from under Kirishima's legs after the red-head gave him some leverage to, shoving them into his face to mask the ever-growing blush and smile emerging.

"You're too cute for me, Kats. I don't think I can handle it," Kirishima smiled fondly at the boy underneath him, his heart swelling in his chest unbeknownst to that angry little giggly guy.

-

A/N: i hope u enjoyed!! i just love lee!bakugou so i rlly couldn’t help myself LMAOO he’s so cute wtf :(( anyways, if u enjoyed this pls consider liking and reblogging!! reblogging is much more appreciated as it helps spread my fic to more ppl :)) love u!! xx

[ma-lark-ey]

~ Glenn dissection ~

this is genuinely not a post to start some kind of discourse, I just wanted to dissect gGenn close a little bit because i think the choices in today’s episodes are very interesting and i wanna dissect how I think they were the right ones. 

in summary; Lark is having a little special interest moment and wants to info dump sorry not sorry. 

My opinion on Glenn is fairly neutral, much like Henry. I don’t think he’s a terrible parent, but he’s also by no means a good parent. I do see some child neglect in his narrative, but he’s by no means ‘abusing’ Nicolas. 

So, I’ve been thinking about these two a lot over the past few days. Like, a lot a lot. They.... They’re a complex pair to digest

As Freddie and Anthony said in the latest episode of Talking Dads, people don’t like accepting characters who are good people and bad parents. Because if someone’s a good person, then they’re a good parent, or bad person equals a bad parent. Vice verse shit. 

Now, Glenn was ruled as a good person. And, I won’t say Glenn is a ‘bad person,’ but I also won’t say he’s a good person. Again, he’s a grey area. he’s a grey character. he’s a mediocre person. 

Glenn, at his core, is an immature person. A broken man who refuses to acknowledge he’s broken, and that gets increasingly clear with each time he talks about Morgan, or is asked about Morgan. There’s an unresolved grief there, and who knows if he’ll ever resolve it. He avoids those kinds of emotions (’harshing his vibe’) 

I think, narratively, the only option that would’ve made sense would have been to give up Nick. 

there are three core things we have to think about here. 

- Player; how would this decision affect Freddie? How do his personal desires for Glenn play into this? 

- Narrative; what decision makes the most compelling narrative? What furthers the story in the most dramatic way? 

- Character; What decision would the character make in this sitation? Why would they choose this? 

These are all things that are constantly needed ot be brought into topic when it comes to these kinds of major plot points. The only other instance I can think of for this in DnDads was the chimera and Grant. 

I’ll start at the top. 

1. PLAYER; The most intense part of a narrative is the player’s decisions in said narrative. As a dungeon master, I’ve watched my players choose some baffling things for their characters (such as, a typically laid back background player taking the lead in a mystery to try and assist our younger player) and these players own wants and desires in the storyline play a major role in these things. In this case; Freddie didn’t want to kill off Glenn. And that is absolutely valid and understandable and by no means wrong of him. He’s played this character for two years (or coming up on it) and that’s huge. That’s a lot of time for him to become attached and fall in love with this character he’s made. It’s completely normal, acceptable, and welcome for players to fall absolutely in love with the character they play. These players, over the course of their campaigns, become a way the players bond with each other. It’s no secret that Freddie feels very attached to Glenn, to the point there’s jokes there’s little to no line between them during episodes. He didn’t want to end a character he held so near and dear, and if anyone faults him for that; a personal fuck you to you, good tiz. 

A content creator is going to love the characters in the content they produce, and shaming them for wanting to hold onto those characters as long as possible is absolutely absurd. If Scott Cawthon can keep making FNaF games six years later, and no one insults him about it, Freddie Wong can choose the timeline where Glenn stays alive. 

2. NARRATIVE; in crafting a narrative, you want to choose the option that will cause the most conflict and interesting plots to follow. While, killing off Glenn would have provided us with a very interesting arc where they go to hell to rescue Glenn and go into this weird Entourage-style campaign; it’d be repetive. We just had an episode or two where the gang had to go save Glenn, and while we currently do have to save Glenn again, it’s very different this time. It’s not ‘Glenn got sent to a hell dimension’ it’s ‘let’s pull a jailbreak’ and yeah, I’m not to excited about another ‘go save glenn’ arc right after Deck Picks, I AM excited for Jimmy Wong and this new character of his, I’m vibrating with excitement. 

Choosing to give Nick up makes narrative sense, whether it was a ‘good dad’ decision or not. It made sense. It provided more conflict for the party, because now there’s a new guy in the party and Nick doesn’t remmebr who Glenn even is, it provides a very interesting new character arc (i.e, Glenn building a cool uncle type relationship with Glenn, and befriending Nick’s new dad.) No, Glenn giving up Nick was not some big heoric deed as some people are portraying it, but it’s more selfless than dying just so your kid can become an orphan and mourn your memory. That would’ve been the shitty option, I’m sorry, but it would’ve been. Especially given Freddie, nor Glenn, thought they owuld be able to bring Glenn back this itme. 

3. CHARACTER; I feel that this is a very telling decision for Glenn and wanting to better himself. I’m gonna focus on the topic of Glenn seeing Nick as his last tie to Morgan. 

We know Glenn is very stuck on Morgan, to the point of being stuck at the same maturity he was when Moran was born. He’s stuck there, trying to keep her memory alive. Because, Morgan was all he had and he lost her. And that sucks. When your partner dies, it feels like everything in the world is absolutely gone and there’s nothing you can do to get them back and that everything you ever were is gone. So, of course he would latch everything he had of Morgan onto Nick. It makes such logical sense. His wife has died, y’all. Unexpectedly. Suddenly. In a horrific way. But, here he has this little kid who is a physical manifestation of their love and commitment to each other. Obviously, he’s gonna latch onto that child and hold them close, see them as their last tie to Morgan. Because Nick is his last tie to Morgan. A child inherits parts of both their parents, and I’m sure there are things Nick does that Glenn sees nothing but Morgan in. 

Glenn wanted to keep Nick. He loves that kid so much. (Freddie’s first reaction upon meeting Nick in episode one is “Guys, I love my kid!” and that transfers into Glenn’s love language, encouraging Nick even if it’s in a very bad way.) But, I feel., and this is strictly me looking into his character, he realizes he needs to let go. He realizes he needs to let himself grow, and that him and Nick aren’t healthy and that he’s becoming Bill. And he let’s go. 

This also plays into how the Close family is known to live hard and long, (YOLO mentality) and so, clearly he won’t take the death option. Not happening. 

TL;DR Glenn choosing to give Nick up shows a major character growth in unhealthy attachment and admitting fault, and Freddie also is totally justified in choosing option to give up an NPC his player character is attached to instead of just killing off the character he’s clearly very attached to. 

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 28

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,832

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff. Have a dentist on hand. 

A/N: No smut, just another fluffy installment.

All of the people in the doctor’s office are quietly confused about the four people entering the waiting room together, but neither you nor Spencer can muster up the energy to care. Today, you’ll know if the babies are healthy, hear their heartbeats, and possibly even find out whether you’re having boys or girls or one of each.

As you make your way up to the front desk, you link your arm in Ai’s. She’s happy and excited and nervous, but also a little sad, though she doesn’t confide that in you. You can just see it in her eyes; it’s all bittersweet. “Ai Campbell,” she says softly. “My boyfriend, Kyle, and the adoptive parents, Spencer and Y/N Reid will be coming in with me. That’s okay, right? We discussed it on the phone a few days ago.”

The woman reiterates that it’s fine, “as long as they all remain out of the doctor’s way,” which is perfectly fine with you. All you want to do is make sure they’re healthy and that Ai is as comfortable as she can be considering she’s going to be carrying two full grown babies soon.

Inside the office, Ai slips onto the table and lifts her shirt. She’s a small woman so her bump is already fairly visible despite being just over 3 months along.

Kyle sits at Ai’s side, occasionally giving her hand a squeeze. Though they both agree that giving their children up for adoption is what’s best for all of them in the long run, you can all see that this is especially difficult for Ai; they’re growing in her belly. You’d never have been able to give up Charlotte. All you can do is make it as easy on her as possible.

Just as Kyle presses a kiss to Ai’s temple, the doctor comes in and greets you all. He’s been made aware of your situation by her nurses and Ai. “How are you feeling, Ai?”

“A little morning sickness, and I can tell my back is going to kill me soon, but for now I’m okay.”

As the doctor explains that everything she’s feeling is normal (and giving her a heads up about what’s to come), she squirts some of the ultrasound jelly on her stomach, gently passing the wand over her. One pass. Two. Then she wiggles it around and you see two tiny peanuts - actually they’re about the size of nectarines - on the screen and you start to sob, cradling your head in Spencer’s shoulder. He can’t help but smile, a tear falling down his cheek as he and Ai share a moment. You’re both eternally grateful for the opportunity they’re giving you. “So what are we having?” Ai asks, making the effort to smile when she looks at you both. “We all want to know, right?”

You, Spencer and Kyle nod in agreement and wait with baited breath for the doctor to make the announcement. “Well, let me see...given that it’s twins there is a greater chance of us being wrong-”

“But with a single baby at 14 weeks you can tell with between 90 and 96 percent accuracy so-sorry, I’ll shut up.” Spencer bites his lip and stifles a laugh. He’s full of nervous energy and when he’s nervous the stats start flying. Thankfully, it makes Ai laugh, which allows Kyle to breathe a bit too.

The doctor finally settles the wand in place. “It looks like you’re having...one of each,” she says softly. Immediately, you and Ai burst into tears. You bend down to give her a hug, not giving a crap if you get any of the jelly on your clothes.

“Looks like you’re having a boy and a girl,” Ai says. The lightness in her voice makes her happiness for you apparent, despite how she might be feeling herself.

Pressing a kiss to her head, you wipe her tears away with the pads of your thumbs. “We all are.”

---

With the excitement of two babies on the horizon and a toddler at home, Spencer and yourself fall once again into the most predictable of routines. Unlike with Charlotte however, you aren’t feeling physically gross, so you’re still able to fit in quickies at night and random morning showers together. Without the physical and mental weight of an actual pregnancy, plus this being your second (and third) baby, you’re feeling more confident, which Spencer recognizes. In moments where you question whether or not you should’ve tried for another baby naturally, he reminds you of how you’re feeling. Every one of your roles - wife, mother, sub - you know who you are within them now.

Quickly enough, Ai is five months along. The two of you text every single day, and your boys are in a group text thread with you as well. She’s still not rid of morning sickness, but it’s lessening.

“The back pain though,” she says, her voice resounding through the apartment through the laptop during one of your weekend video chats, “The back pain is brutal. My doctor says I should probably be on bedrest in a month or two. Everyone at work is really helpful though. I’m allowed to sit all the time, which I do, because now I can’t see my feet either. But they’re there, because they hurt like hell.”

Her frankness makes you and Spencer snort. You remember not being able to see your feet at the end of your pregnancy. It was brutal. Thankfully, Charlotte, who’s playing with her baby doll across the room, is super cute and totally worth it. “What about food? Are you able to eat? Any smells turning you off? Any cravings?”

“Smelling coffee makes me want to vomit. Which sucks because I love coffee. Even though I couldn’t drink anything but one cup of decaf,” she says, rambling. You don’t want to laugh, but you can’t help it. The feelings are so real. “I also hate that I can’t have a glass of wine every now and then, not that I do,” she adds quickly.

Spencer laughs when Ai meets his gaze through the screen. “You’re growing two babies, heading off to college and working your ass off, I’m not about to turn you in for a tiny bit of underage drinking.”

“Thanks,” she laughs. “I just miss relaxing with a glass of wine.”

“I feel you. Anything you’re craving?”

“Cliche as it is, pickles. Kyle went out last week at 2 am to grab me a jar. Also breakfast foods. And chocolate. Ooohh, chocolate.” As if on cue, Kyle appears at the side of the screen with a square of Ghirardelli chocolate for the woman he loves. “You do love me.”

Stuffing the chocolate in her mouth, she sighs and closes her eyes, probably feeling a moment’s contentment amidst a sea of morning sickness, back pain and giant feet. “Are you able to come over for dinner sometime soon? Spencer and I will cook breakfast for dinner. Bacon and eggs and-”

“Hash browns?” She asks, her smile wide and pleading.

“Absolutely. What’s your favorite chocolate or candy bar? I’ll make sure we have one of those on tap for you too.”

“Almond Joy! You’re the best.” By the end of the video chat, you have plans for a few weeks later.

---

Three weeks later, Ai and Kyle knock at the door just five minutes after 6. Ai looks like she’s about to pop. “Everything smells delicious,” Kyle says, his arm linked in Ai’s as he helps her waddle to the table. “Bacon is one of God’s greatest works.”

“I have to agree,” Spencer laughs.

Charlotte runs into his arms and he introduces her to Ai and Kyle. You’ve shown her pictures of them and she’s seen them on video calls, but never in person. Smiling at Ai, she points to her stomach. “Babies?”

“Yes, my little flower,” Spencer coos. “Your brother and sister are in there. Want to sit next to Ai for dinner?”

“Breffast,” she replies. She knows it’s breakfast food. Ai is a natural with her and you know when the two of them are ready to be parents they’ll make wonderful ones.

At the stove, you finish up the rest of the food and turn the stove off while Spencer pulls out plates and utensils. “Want to help Daddy make a plate of food for Ai? And Kyle?” Charlotte is eager to help. She’s a natural helper. Even though you aren’t pregnant you feel like you could cry. She’s going to be such a wonderful big sister.

All of you eat your weight in eggs and bacon and hash browns. Except Charlotte. She tries to but she’s still a messy eater so most of it ends up on the table or the floor. After dinner, your little angel climbs into Spencer’s lap and falls asleep against his chest. “Excuse me,” he whispers. “I’m just going to go put her in bed.”

It’s nearly 15 minutes before Spencer leaves Charlotte’s room with the soft thud of her bedroom door. “Sorry, I needed to read her the book with the rainbow fish three times before she would fall asleep.” Laughing, he sits down at your side and gives your hand a squeeze. Before Ai and Kyle came over, you’d discussed this, but you didn’t want to start without him. “We have something we wanted to ask you,” he said softly, careful to keep his voice down so as to not wake Charlotte. He glanced at you and let you take over.

Your voice was shaky. This was important to you. And you hoped it would be to them too. “We got to talking and we- well we realize how hard this is for you-”

“It’s necessary,” Ai interrupts. Her eyes spoke the truth but the pain sat vividly behind the facade.

“We know,” Spencer replies. “But we realize this isn’t an easy decision. We want you to know that you always have a place in their lives.”

“That’s why,” you start again after clearing your throat, “we wanted to ask if you would want to give us their middle names. Maybe family names. Something that’s special to you.”

Tears gathered at the corners of both their eyes before Ai completely broke down. “Really? I mean, we never thought- it would mean the world to-” she clutched her hand to her mouth to stem the sobs that flowed from her mouth. “My father’s given name is Xing. It means star or spark. Do you know what his first name is going to be?”

Spencer chuckled. “We still haven’t settled on one. Y/N wants Spencer Jr., but I’m not so keen on that. We both like Noah and Blake. Either way, his middle name will be Xing.”

“For the girl, we’re tossing between Morgan and Diana.”

Kyle began to chuckle, the tears finally flowing. “How about both? My mother’s name is Diana.”

“Mine too,” Spencer says. “Morgan Diana. For both of us.”

Kyle smiles. “For all of us.”

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1 @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid @lazynoodledragon @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97 @grace-superpowers @softestlavender @ssa-dr-ladylock @drprettyboy @patricks-fabulous-face @tearosaria @shxdowofdarkness @marvels-gurl @gublergirls​

[youllallriseintheink]

Prison Cell, Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long- it got so long that I had to split it into two parts. Anyhow, from this point forwards, you can expect a lot of violence, so be warned. This chapter will have a lot of interpersonal stuff, and the final chapter will be pretty much entirely action.

---

Sammy unlocked the door. On the other side of it was a demon. The demon. The one that had stolen her blood.

Its body was humanoid and wearing a suit and white bow tie, but its hands were made of ink. The top of its head was covered in black ink, which spiraled up into horns and spilled down its face, leaving only its mustache, mouth and chin visible. Seeing it in the light for the first time, Susie recognized it as the bottom of Joey’s face.

“Joey?” Susie asked, her voice full of wonder and fear.

“Once,” the demon said, and its voice was not Joey Drew’s. It deep, and rough, and horrible. “But I have taken over. Don’t worry- I don’t want this any more than he does. Once I find a way to separate humans from ink, I’ll go back to my dimension and free all of you to yours.” The demon turned and beckoned Susie to follow him. “Come.”

The demon led Susie through the basement, seemingly one large room full of very strange things. Pentagrams littered the floor. Scattered iron cages contained a few emaciated, ink-covered people. Shelves full of sharp tools and unknowable ingredients lined the walls.

“I can still hear him, you know,” the demon mused, taking a syringe and a number of bottles from a shelf, “Joey. His mind. I can see into him. Learn how to manipulate humans. I asked him how to crush your insurrection, and he said that I’d need to destroy your little story.”

The demon led Susie to a door and opened it, and when he did, she lost all her breath.

It was Norman, chained to the far wall. He was wearing the same clothes he had been when he was taken away several weeks ago, but now they were hanging off of him at sharp angles. Susie ran to him, and he cringed away from her. He didn’t want her to see him like this, or to feel how thin and bony he’d gotten.

“What did you do him!?” Susie demanded.

“Nothing beyond the obvious. You see, you thought that some of you could overcome us with physical power. That was your story- that your hope and your resilience would lead to freedom. I needed to show you that rebellion only forces me to take your strength. This isn’t something I wanted to do. Strong, healthy people do better work, and unfortunately Joey’s desire to manage the studio is in me. But... you forced my hand.”

The demon then pulled Susie Campbell up by the collar, pushed her against the wall, and put the syringe to her throat.

“He can’t protect you now,” the demon explained, perfectly calm. “His ability to do so was always under my control, and you made me take it away.”

All Norman could do was bury his head in his hands and listen to her whimper. The chains were too short for him to reach her, and he didn’t stand a chance against the demon anyhow. Not like this. The demon released her blood into one of the bottles, then reinserted the needle, working at an unhurried pace. He repeated the motion several times before letting her go. She fell onto her hands and knees, faint from blood loss.

---

Utterly haunted, Sammy escorted the two sickly individuals back to the music room, carrying with him the two first-aid kits and a message that Joey had written. The second he entered the recording studio, The instruments went silent. A bassist got up from his instrument and tackled Sammy to the ground.

“Okay, someone get these two to the infirmary and look after them,” the bassist ordered, “And Johnny, get the rope. We have a loyalist to hang!”

“Wait!” Sammy cried, “I carry a message from your lord!”

“Can it! You let this happen to them. Why would we listen to your stupid ‘message?’”

Meanwhile, Jack Fain picked up the message from the ground and read it. “Guys! It says if three days go by without incident, they’ll release our prisoners! Let’s not do this. Please.”

The man who’d tackled Sammy got up, snatched the message out of Jack’s hands, and skimmed over it. “Huh. You’re right. Fine. Take him to the elevator and I’ll take this to Abby. Hopefully she’ll actually use it.”

---

Abby read over the letter.

To the upper levels,

A lot of violence has occurred between the upper and lower levels recently, so let me make myself clear: I do not want war, and no matter what level you come from, you should not want loyalists to die. Without our work, you would starve. I’m sorry to have done what I did, but I think you all needed a reminder of what’s coming for you if you keep interfering with our work. I do not wish to have to do this again.

Simply put, be peaceful, do what’s needed of you, and everything will be fine. As a final peace offering, I will release your prisoners three days from now if the rebellion stops entirely.

-Joey Drew

Abby knew the letter was full of lies. That thing wasn’t Joey, and it wasn’t forced to keep them here. She knew that the others knew that, too, and she knew that now that the upper levels had tasted hope, complete compliance would be even more impossible than before. This so-called war was going to happen sooner or later, so she needed to make sure they started at an advantage. She called on Henry to help her make a plan, and called everyone into the recording studio that night to announce it. Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy even the most rebellious of souls.

---

The door to Susie’s room opened, and Abby stepped in. Susie's eyes opened weakly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry you had to miss the meeting tonight. Big things are happening, and I thought I’d let you know about them.”

“Okay,” Susie said.

“So... Joey, or, his demon, rather, has threatened to come down hard on us if there are any more signs of rebellion- and we both know that there will be. He also promised to release our prisoners if there are three days of good behaviour. So, I’ve decided that we’re breaking out the same night that our prisoners are released. The plan is for someone stealthy to go down there in the dead of night, steal the keys, and come back. After that, we’ll leave in groups of seven in order to sneak out of the portal. We’ll do it as quietly as possible, but we’ll also be packing axes and spears made from the knives you brought up. Hopefully there won’t be too many causalities.”

“Why seven?”

“We’re expecting to have ten injured people, and we’re not leaving anyone behind. There are going to be 68 of us in total, assuming that none of the prisoners died, you know, I thought that one per group would have the least chance of really compromising a group’s chances of escape. Plus, smaller groups will be quicker and quieter.”

Susie nodded.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ll be better by then. And Norman is fine, too, by the way. Well, physically. We looked him over and he doesn’t have any issues aside from the obvious. He won’t talk to any of us. I don’t know what that’s about. Maybe some kind of spell.”

Susie should have felt something in regards to that, but she was honestly too exhausted from the blood loss.

“Alright. I’ll let you rest now- but tomorrow, I’m going to have to ask you about everything you saw down there- especially anything that might help me plan. Goodnight, Susie.” With that, Abby left.

---

The rebellion required planning, and management. Every axe was pulled off the walls and moved into Sammy’s sanctuary, along with the knives- just in case a loyalist decided to take them away one night. Two people guarded the elevator on each floor and at all times, and not to keep loyalists out. Loyalists were allowed right through, but any especially rebellious souls had to be kept from ruining their plan. Henry and Abby were busy planning the groups and drawing up an easy-to-follow map to the portal room. Every department head struggled to keep the remaining workers to their jobs. It seemed pointless for them to work jobs they’d quickly be fleeing from, but it was essential in order to keep suspicions to a minimum.

---

It was the night before the march. Most were turning in early, knowing that tomorrow, they would have to be on their guard well into the night. Susie had tried to do the same, but she couldn’t sleep. There was too much on her head. Too many factors that had to align if she was ever going to make it out. The horrifying possibility of facing the ink demon again if they failed. And her mind, despite there being there bigger fish to fry, kept going back to Norman, if they could ever have what they had once had again, and if Norman even wanted that anymore.

“Has Norman talked to you, yet?” Susie asked Grant once he entered their room. Since Norman hadn’t rejoined them, there was no real reason for them to still be roommates, but they’d stayed roommates anyhow, just out of habit.

“No. As far as I know, he hasn’t talked to anyone.”

“I saw him speak today. Wally wanted to help him carry something, and Norman snarled at him to back off. So, it’s not a spell- just mental stuff from being imprisoned. I wanna help him, but he won’t talk to me. Can you try?”

“Sure,” Grant said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Susie said, biting back tears. “I just wanna know that he’s in a place where he’ll be able to handle things tomorrow. And... I know that this is the last thing that should be on my mind, but... can you ask why he’s avoiding me?”

“Oh, Susie. I...” Grant tried to find the words to comfort her. “I’ll talk to him.” Honestly, it didn’t seem like Norman was the only one who had to pull themselves together for tomorrow night.

Norman wasn’t used to being pitied. Even as a kid, after all he’d been through, his adoptive family had known that he was a problem child who needed to be set straight before he got even bigger and his aggression became more dangerous. He’d never wanted pity, either, and now that he had it, he couldn’t say that his opinion on it had improved any. He never thought he’d miss his coworkers looking at him like he was a frightening beast. Though he did cut the long, greasy hair he’d grown while imprisoned as soon as he had the chance, he’d been half-tempted to just wash it and keep it, just to somewhat retain that beastly image.

Mostly, he wanted a way to cope. He wanted to talk with his sister, or go for a walk in the woods, or somehow get out of the sight of these people without isolating himself in one room. That had been what he was doing in his off hours- both because there was little else he wanted to do and because he didn’t have the stamina he used to. It wasn’t Susie’s room. Honestly, he’d been too scared to even look at her.

Norman knew of the plan. Honestly, it had happened so quickly after he was released from his imprisonment that it was a little hard to take in. Yes, late tomorrow night, he and everyone else would end up escaping or die trying, and Norman would either reunite with his sister and put his life together from there, or it would be the end of him. It was happening, but it didn’t seem real.

There was a knock at his door. Norman pulled himself up and answered it. It was Grant. Well, out of everyone in the studio it could have been, Grant was the most tolerable.

“Hey, Norman. You... wanna play some cards?” There was a little pity in Grant’s voice. Thankfully not too much.

Norman ushered Grant into the room. They sat down on the floor, and Grant started shuffling the cards.

“So, you ready for tomorrow?”

“I guess. Kind of hard to believe it’s happening.”

Grant’s face lit up. “You’re talking!”

Norman shrugged. “It’s easy when it’s you."

“Uh, thanks. Do you want talk about... you know, what’s happened?”

“No,” Norman said, and the two played cards in silence for a while before Norman spoke up again. “Is Susie okay?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be strong enough to make it out, assuming the plan goes well.”

Norman’s face was unreadable. “Good." A long pause. “Y’know, she’s childish, and shallow, and stupid. But she was impressed with me because I was strong and I could protect her. And so, you know, she was pretty, and we did... things together. I thought that could be all it was, but she was sweet and kind to me and I went and caught feelings for her. Of course, shallow attraction based on one thing won’t last now that I look like starving stray dog, but whatever. So long as she’s okay. She’s a good girl. So long as she’s okay.”

Grant just stared at him. “Have you... looked her in the eye recently?”

“What?”

“Uh, sorry. It’s just that you’re usually so good at figuring this kind of thing out that it borders on the supernatural, and right now, you’re really, really wrong. This entire, organized rebellion started with her trying to put together a rescue team for you. She wanted to be the first one down in loyalist territory, for you. She’s actually the one who sent me, because she’s worried about how you’ll do tomorrow.”

With the last line, Norman’s face went from appreciation and disbelief to twisted anger. “For God’s sake! Joey didn’t cut my fucking legs off!”

“Well, she can’t know how well you’re doing if you avoid her. Look, if you aren’t up for it, I can go back and try to comfort her, tell her you’re fine.”

“No. No. I’ll do it. And I’m sorry that I’m not my most pleasant right now.”

Grant smiled. Nothing ever changed- the best way to get Norman to do anything was to offer to do it for him. Susie slept in Norman’s arms that night, knowing it could be their last chance to be together.

[brianc521]

Love Me Right | Nap Date 6

He’s not gonna sign it. Could never fucking do that to Ember. It’d break him in half if he did. He can’t even physically think of anyone else, it makes him nauseous. How would anyone expect him to fake a relationship willingly?

He’s on the phone with Ember before he can even make it to his car. He knows it’s gonna be a rough call, doesn’t expect to leave the driveway for an hour, but he has to tell her. He has to hell her now. 

“Hey how was your meeting?” She answers as she picks up. 

“It was,” He looks at the awful contract sitting in his passenger seat. “It wasn’t good.” 

“What happened?” 

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “They presented a contract.” 

“Who’s they?” 

“Andrew and Cez, but also her team.” 

“Her team?” She stutters. “What the fuck is it?”

“They want us to fake a relationship.” 

“They want what?” She whispers.

“For PR. The song isn’t doing as well as they were hoping, so they want us to go out, pretend to date. To spark publicity, get our names out there.” 

“Your name is out there.” She responds. “Be real Shawn, they want her name out there. The reason the song isn’t doing as well as they thought was because you’re the background. She attempted to overpower and in the end it resulted in your vocals being turned down.” 

He grins a little, loves how defensive she is over him. It’s a way she proves her love, when she’s willing to throw hands over anything. 

“So don’t tell me it’s to get ‘our names out there’ because it’s not. It’s to get her name out there. Because isn’t she about to release an album? If her song with you didn’t chart well then how the fuck is her album supposed to chart at all?” 

He’s biting his lip to stop from laughing. She’s got this down to a T, it’s incredible. The bad part of his hesitation is, she takes it as him thinking it through. 

“Wait.” She stops. “Are you thinking about it?” 

“What?” 

“Shawn?” She stops suddenly, all noises around her going silent. The only thing he can hear is her heavy breathing. 

“What Honey?” 

“Did you already sign? It’s already started hasn’t it?”

“What? No!” He grips the parked steering wheel. “Why would you think that? I would never do something like this without talking to you.” 

“But there are new pictures out. What are you wearing right now?” 

“Um,” He looks down. “I’m wearing my live aid shirt and blue jeans. My black ones are dirty.” 

“Oh my god.” She gasps. “You were with her today. You, you were at lunch with her. You said her team?”

“It was, her and her team.” 

“Then why is her team not in this picture. Shawn her team and your team aren’t in these pictures.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“The pictures, it’s just you and her.” 

“We were never alone.” He groans, looking through his feed. 

He’s so tired of feeling powerless in his life. He’s finally at a time where he’s thinking of settling down, of being happy with someone he truly loves. Yet this shit keeps happening and it keeps pushing those settling down plans further and further away. He’s frustrated, and the worst part is, he really can’t do anything about it.

“Shawn.” She sighs. “Listen to me, I love you, but this can’t be our relationship.” 

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I can’t do this. I understand that your career is important. I’m so proud of all the things you’ve accomplished, whether I’ve been with you or not, but this is not healthy for me. Not mentally, and not physically.” 

His eyes widen at her words, and he’s clicking back to the call trying to make it a face time but she declines it.

“It’s not healthy for me to be stressing over pictures and wondering if they’re real or fake. It’s not healthy to feel the pressure of being compared to who the world thinks you’re with. So,” she sighs. “If you think that this is a good step for your career, that this will help you succeed then maybe we’re not as meant to be as we thought we were.” 

“No Baby.” He chokes. “We are meant to be. We are.” 

“Do you really think that?” 

“Of course I do. I love you.” 

“Then can you do me a favor?” She asks.

“Anything.”

“Can you fucking act like it?”

Before he can even think of responding the line goes dead and her heavy breathing has disappeared. He’s essentially freaking the fuck out. This can not be happening to him right now. Not again. He’s already gone through this freak out, when this shit started. She’s already gone silent on him, her walls he’d finally been able to take down when they got together have been slowly building back up again, and he can’t keep fighting if she’s gonna keep building. 

He’s tried to call her back four times, she declines him every single time. So he finally leaves a message on the fifth call. 

“Okay, I understand that this is hard. Trust me, I fucking know that. But I need you to talk to me. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. This conversation was a full 360 of what I fucking meant for it to be. So for me to be able to ‘act like it’ or fix it you have to let me talk. I’m just trying to be honest with you. I love you, and I’ll give you some space. Just don’t give up on me yet.” 

He ends the call and throws his phone on top of the contract, putting his Jeep in reverse before Andrew can even think twice about walking up to his window when he realized Shawn was still sitting there. 

** 

It’s been a day, and he still hasn’t heard back from her. This is the one thing that drives him absolutely mad. She pushes him away in times where he knows she needs him the most. He can’t get into any contact with her, so he has no sort of control of the situation. He doesn’t even really need any control, he just wants information.

It’s why he always ends up flying back to her. It might seem dramatic, or totally immature but damn he’s in love with Ember Mills. He can’t just let her go because she thinks he wants something that’s fake and gross. He wants her. That’s all he wants right now.

He never thought he would admit it, but she’s everything. If she asked him to stop touring, he would. If she asked to him never pick up a guitar again, he would. She could ask him to do anything and he would do it. His faith in her is that she would never ask, because he wants to believe that she’s in love with him too. 

He feels kind of dumb standing at her apartment door. He feels even dumber when he knocks on the door like a kid in 5th grade wondering if she could come out to play. What seals the deal on the dumb feeling is when Juniper answers the door with a glare and scowl painted on her face. 

“What the hell?” 

“I need to see her.” 

“No, you need to let her go Shawn. I love you Mendes boys with all my heart, but this isn’t good for her.” 

“You don’t understand. She doesn’t even understand, and I’d like to explain it to her before I do anyone else. So please, can I just talk to her.” 

“Are you gonna hurt her?” Juniper asks softly, biting her lip. 

“No, the last thing I ever want to do is hurt her. She jumped to conclusions. She never let me explain why I was telling her about the contract.” 

At this Juniper stands straight, and it’s then that she realizes that Ember never did tell her why he brought it up. That was the missing piece to the puzzle. She was just so caught up in Ember’s emotions that she forgot that part.

She quickly waves Shawn in, knowing it’s cold outside and he had to be freezing. 

“She’s in the living room. I’m gonna head out, was supposed to be at Raul’s 15 minutes ago. She’s in good hands?”

“The best hands, other than yours.” He nods quickly, hugging Juniper and slowly making his way to the living room.

“He still hasn’t called me again June. I’m starting to lose faith that he meant he was fighting for me.” Ember calls from her spot on the couch, thinking Juniper was still in the kitchen.

“Don’t lose faith.” He speaks, watching her jump and turn to look behind the couch at him.

“What are you doing here? Where’s June?” 

“She let me in, then headed to Raul’s. We need to talk Ember.” 

His eyes are rimmed red from lack of sleep. His curls a mess from stressing them with his fingers. His hands are shaking from nerves, and he can’t seem to catch his breath from his anxious mood. 

“Shawn,” She sighs.

“No listen. It’s my turn to speak. You cut me off every time.” He shakes his head. Starting to pace her living room. “I literally called you about the contract so that you would know what they were trying to do. Not once did you let me finish my sentence, that would have gone like this; They presented me with a contracted about having a fake relationship with her, isn’t that fucking ludicrous? They want me to help her get publicity to sell her album, I have enough trouble on my own why the fuck would I want to take on her career as well?” 

She gasps and leans back against the couch when he keeps ranting.

“On top of that, they were talking about me holding her hand and kissing her? That makes me fucking nauseous because how in the fuck do they expect me to do that with her when all I want is to do that with you.” At this he finally makes eye contact with her. “I literally only want you. I can’t see my life without you in it anymore. And the more you talk about us breaking up or you leaving me makes me feel like I have no control. Over anything.” 

She stands at this, starting to notice his anxious behavior. 

“Because like, I’m in love with you. But at every slightest bump in the road you’re ready to run away from me. I can’t, I can’t live like that. I understand that it’s not healthy for you to live a life where you see pictures of me with her or any other girl for that matter. But at the same time it’s not healthy for me to live a life where I don’t feel secure in our relationship.” 

“Shawn, breathe please.”

“I thought we talked about this? I thought I made myself clear, but I’ll try one last time. I know my career scares you. It scares me too. I constantly have people in my business, nothing feels private anymore. That was the case until I met you. I will do anything in my power to make you happy. At the same time, I need to do anything in my power to make sure I’m happy too. You and music make me the happiest I’ve ever been. So I promise that I will keep you informed on everything. Every contract, every interview, every fucking thing I can. Okay?” 

“Okay.” She nods, finally starting to understand that he’s trying. 

He’s really trying to make her feel secure in his career, so he can feel secure in their relationship. That was like a knife to her chest when he told her she doesn’t. 

At this he stops, stares at her and finally takes a deep breath.

“I never signed the contract. I was never going to sign the contract. I’m never going to sign that contract. I called you and told you so you would know about it. I don’t want to keep anything from you. I made that mistake, I almost lost you because of it so I’m not gonna make it again.” 

“Okay,” She nods, taking his hands and kissing at the knuckles. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.” 

“I need you to give me the benefit of the doubt okay? I may be a dumb boy, but I’m learning.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m also really tired.” He slumps his shoulders. “I’m tired from everything, but most of all I’m tired of feeling like every time I take one of your walls down, three more go up. I feel like I never get a win, that I’m always chasing my tail around you.” 

“You’re not.” She shakes her head. “You’re not chasing anything. You have me Shawn.” 

“Do I?” He asks her. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.” 

“You do, I promise you that. You know me better than anyone else does. I’m sorry that I get scared and run away. It’s just how I cope. But I’ll work on it, I know that doesn’t do any good for you or for me. So can we agree that that’s what we need to work on with each other? Not running away, not letting our emotions get the better of us? That we’ll talk, like adults. That way someone doesn’t have to fly home once a week when we have a disagreement?”

“I’d like that. I’d like to do this right. I’d like to love you right.” 

“You do, you do love me right. Now let me learn how to love you right.” 

“You do love me right.” He sighs, spreading his arms out, preparing to go on another rant about how she does, that’s right before she presses her lips to his. 

“Now shut up for a minute.” She murmurs between kisses. “You’re home, and you’re here. Just kiss me a for awhile.”

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter One

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1 [Here] - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. The crew finally land back into the world after the events of Ruxomar. That should be a good thing, right? But Wag is feeling the burden of everything that has happened to him, and he didn’t even get his magic back to boot.

It’s hard to be happy when life has been so shitty.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: I’ve been working on this since September? of 2019! I have 5 chapters done and still going. I wanted to wait to post this until I was done with it, but my impatience has gotten the better of me.

@the-moon-pal I’m coming for your crown king >:)

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They’d made it home a couple weeks ago, to the land of Mianite. It’d been such a relief. They got to meet the rest of the alts, got to watch Dianite meet the other gods- and cringe at the tension that crackled between them- got to find all their homes again. For once, in the past-however-long, there was peace. They could relax.

So why did Wag feel like utter shit?

Right. Because he literally got the worst part of the deal.

He thought his powers would come back when they got home. And they did, for a few hours. Not the full range, but a lot of it. It felt good to be full of magic again. It felt like he was himself.

But then things started to fall apart. Martha grew distant. His powers fell away in fits and bursts. He realized that the rest of FyreUK had moved on after they made amends in Ruxomar. They found their way on. Without him.

Nothing was the same, he realized, as he spent more time around the place they had called ‘home.’

Spark had done what he did best: built a city. Well, more like a village. What had once been a place of buildings thrown about at random and mostly open plains was now sparsely populated. Neatly arranged shops and a few houses took up the space next to the beach. New people had even begun to show up.

Everything was changing around him, yet he was stuck holding onto the past. Holding onto his wizardhood, to his brotherhood, to a partner that was farther now than ever, and- worst of all- he was still holding onto the hope that everything would just… go back. To how it was.

To when he was important.

Well, like fuck is he was going to sit around and loathe his existence. He could at least try to do something. Swear to Athar, he wasn’t going to turn into a lump of depression just because he couldn’t handle change! He’d rather be a walking mass of depression! That way he could at least pretend he was being productive.

Potions or spellbooks? A question as old as time. Potions were a staple in his life. If there was one thing that would never leave him, it was his ability to make fucking potions. Like, fucking make potions. Not potions to help people fuck. On the other hand, the more he poured through spellbooks, the more likely he was to get closer to finding out how to get his powers back.

Maybe his powers left when FyreUK left, taking all the glory of Athar with it. But that was too terrible of a thought, so that got chucked in the ‘not-today-bitch’ bin. Which was a handy dandy mental bin that stored all of his worst problems.

He never could fit himself in it, though.

So potions it was.

Now that he was out of the business of magic, most of his money came from his potion making. He had made yet another little wizard- alchemist? Potion master?- tower. Plopped some advertisements in el Pueblo de Spark and took orders to pass the time. He had to fund his botany experiments somehow.  Someone had to introduce weed into this world, that might as well be him.

If he was going down in history for something, that wasn’t ‘Word Renowned Wizard Extraordinaire’, then ‘The Guy who Made Weed’ would sure as hell work. 

Wag pulled up his log of orders. Luck, luck, dexterity, healing, luck, love- yeah, those didn’t really work but he’d make it anyways-, strength, luck, yadda, yadda, yadda. Lots of luck. He could probably get away with making a batch or two of luck potions, then work through the rest.

He spared a glance outside. Spark’s little hut-square town was beginning to develop into a pleasant little fishing hole. Surprisingly- or not, given how deep the waters were nearby- the place was actually a fairly hot place for single fish to mingle. Warm waters, nice and deep, lots of cover, and not much human interference. Until now, anyway.

Either the fishermen were starting to get a fair amount of revenue going or they really needed help. Luck potions were among his most expensive. The ingredients were hard to acquire regardless of how you made it.

Rabbit’s foot? Morally and physically hard to get a hold of. Rainbow trout? Terribly rare. ‘Star-light Fruit’? Not even confirmed to exist.

His method was a little more straightforward. A butt load of four-leaf clovers, a tiny bit of alcohol, and a fuckton of glitter. Clovers for the magic, glitter for the look, and alcohol for the feeling of being lucky.

It was a very bullshit potion.

It took forever to find the clovers, let alone collect them.

Athar give him strength.

Giving one last look outside, he tucked his log book in his cloak. Then he went and rummaged through his chests.

Monotony here he comes.

~~~

Wag was halfway through his second batch of luck potions when a distant knock came from his door, followed by the sound of bells. If not for the bells he’d have ignored the knocking. With a stretch, he putzed down the stairs. The many flights of stairs.

He missed being able to make elevators.

Opening the door revealed one Mr. Sparklez, hair tousled but otherwise neatly groomed. He was relaxed, if not a little winded from his trek up the hill Wag claimed as his own.

Wag smiled. “Hey Sparklez, what brings you up to my tower of terror today? Here for a chat or a swanky danky potion?”

He gestured for Jordan to head inside and get comfortable, but the man waved him off. “Actually,” Jordan started, “I was wondering if you’d seen Martha? I needed to ask her something and I haven’t seen her all day. Figured she’d be with you.”

Ah, so Jordan wanted to find Martha.

Ouch.

Doing his best to ignore the squeeze in his chest, Wag kept his smile firmly in place. “No, I don’t think I have. She, uh.” He paused, going for a nonchalant shrug. “She doesn’t come around the tower all that often. I’d ask Spark instead. She tends to hang around him more. Her good ole pops and all, y’know. They do have a lot to catch up on.” Wag tried to ignore how weak his words sounded. He didn’t want it to sound weird that Martha wouldn’t come around, but instead he just sounded pathetic.

Great.

Jordan gave Wag an awkward smile, seemingly uncomfortable with the sad display. “Ah, alright. I’ll ask around for Spark.” 

He turned to leave but caught himself before he was fully turned away. Jordan chewed on his words. “Are you-” His eyes swept over Wag. “How have you been? We don’t see you as much anymore. Other than Tom, I guess, but it's hard to get rid of Tom once he decides you’re friends, y’know?”

“I’ve been,” Wag wanted to laugh, but pushed through the sentence, “swell, thank you. I would get out more, but I’m always so busy potion making. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t the exact truth, but he did spend a lot of time on potions.

Letting his shoulders settle, Jordan gave a small laugh. “Who would press a wizard to pay bills? Someone who wants to catch on fire, I’m sure.” He opted for a friendly smile. “If you ever want to hang out or something, let me know. I’ve been getting kind of bored between Spark telling me how to be a better champion of Ianite and living in an actual, peaceful society.”

Wag waved after Jordan as he began his descent. Yeah, a wizard. A frown tugged at his face while he shut the door.

A real fucking wizard.

~~~

Making potions was rather methodical. Each step took a certain amount of time, each item had certain effects, meshed certain ways with other items. It was like following a recipe, but with bigger consequences for messing up. Cooler results, though.

Wag had just finished melting down the clovers he’d gathered and extracting the essence- which is to say he lit it on fire after sprinkling a generous amount of blaze powder on it- when Jordan had stopped by. Which was convenient, since he needed to wait for the weird half-liquid half-slime to cool off enough to move it. The awkward potions, glitter, and alcohol were already prepped. Now all he needed to do was mix shit together.

Oh joy.

At the very least, it was satisfying to roll the clover essence into little balls to plop into an awkward potion and then watch them dissolve. The clover gave the essence a natural, healthy green color while the blaze powder, which clung to even the most thoroughly washed slime, gave it something of a yellow highlight. Golden glitter gets dumped in to make it feel like you were about to drink something special. Yes, the glitter was edible. No, most people didn’t realize he put glitter in this shit. Then the alcohol was for that background buzz. It was meant to dull the senses just enough to trick people into believing, wholeheartedly, in whatever god-forsaken abomination he just made.

Sorry. What ever divinely crafted, totally safe potion he’d just made.

Sure, he didn’t test it himself, but it seemed to work well enough for the people he gave it to. So where was the harm?

It was fine.

The next part was perhaps the most boring. And he’d spent all day yesterday crawling on the ground looking for four-leaf clovers.

Tagging and packaging. Writing names on slips of paper, tying them to the potion, putting it in a small, padded box to prevent any breaks. Rinse, repeat. It was annoying, wasted money, all that jazz, but it helped the look. Who wants to be handed a regular old potion, by hand, when you can get it in some majestic looking box to really add some sparkle to your magic?

Maybe Ruxomar rubbed off on him in a bad way.

In any case, the look was important, and by Athar was he going to make it look fucking fantastic.

Unfortunately, this task was also terribly, horribly monotonous. Worse yet, it left room for thinking. And thinking was Wag’s least favorite pastime since floating in the Void. Especially since floating in the Void.

It lead to him thinking deeply about himself and Athar knows that most of his life problems could be traced right back to that. His mistakes, his fuck ups, his shortcomings, all of it came back to him thinking way too hard about himself. 

Gross.

Instead, he tried to run over potion recipes in his mind. Or any recipe, really. All the different ways to make a fire resistance potion when you don’t have magma cream. Counting how many potions used lemongrass. Figuring out what potions would make it more likely to catch fish. Literally anything. As long as it was potions, it was fine.

Not about himself, not about Athar, not about wizards, and not about… Martha.

Yeah, that last one would be a one hit k-o. 

But now that his mind had touched on the subject, it dug in. Sunk it's claws into the delicate stability of his mind. Dramatic, he knows, but that’s how it felt. It was like the more he tried to get the thought out of his mind, the further it burrowed into him. Awful, painful, and not even worth the effort.

Martha… clearly didn’t care about him anymore. Or, well. He winced at the thought. She didn’t love him like she used to. If she, uh. Did in the first place. But this was old news. This was something he pondered after she seemed to avoid him like the plague, seemed to grimace when she looked over and saw him and not him.

Steve.

The name sat heavy in his head. They hadn’t meshed well, ‘specially where Martha was concerned. But they managed, for her, because they loved her.

Wag felt guilty, looking back on it now. For stealing their time together, for messing with their relationship. They hadn’t gotten to be together enough, had lost too much time before-

Yeah, he didn’t like thinking about Steve more than he didn’t like thinking about Martha. Wag didn’t feel like he deserved to think the name, let alone put himself up against his image. Steve was a hero. He rebelled against Helgrind in a cunning, intelligent way, he was selfless in more aspects than any of the heroes that appeared in Ruxomar, and he was the one to sacrifice the most. To sacrifice it all.

Where did Wag stand against that?

Honestly, it was no wonder Martha couldn’t stand to look at him. He was just a reminder of Steve, a reminder that she didn’t have Steve. That she had him instead. 

Had she ever loved him?

That wasn’t the point. The point was that Martha was hurting, trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind in Ruxomar. What she had lost. And Wag wasn’t doing anything to help. He was stuck up in his tower, making potions, trying to forget about everything that he wasn’t.

He should try to look for her.

But the last time he did, he got turned away. She was “catching up with her father.” She was “busy settling into the new world.” She was “trying to get a grip on her new goddesshood.”

Wag was persistent, but even he could get the hint.

By Athar, he got the hint. “I don’t want to see you.” “Don’t come near me.” “You can’t help me.” 

He wondered if Spark was doing anything to help her or if he was also caught up in everything that had happened. From what he had learned about the man in Ruxomar, he was devoted to his wife. No, he gave everything for his wife. Learning she was dead after working up everything to see her again?

He had played it well. When he heard the news, Spark kept strong, only letting his tears show. If he had gone home later after parting with Martha, who had her own grief and guilt, crumbling on the inside no one would know. And if he had locked himself away and let everything loose, let himself break, none would be the wiser. But they could guess, they could give him a passing glance, a thoughtful frown.

Wag wondered if he still carried that grief around with him.

Spark had taken to trying to discipline Jordan to be a better champion of Ianite. It had made the man uncomfortable with getting told he could be a better follower and all. Or rather, having it implied that he wasn’t the best follower. Spark was stubborn in ‘training’ the champion of Ianite to be a full fledged follower.

Still, Jordan didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

Wag understood. Having the husband of the very goddess you watched die get on your case about being a better follower? When the crushing weight of guilt hadn’t fully let off your shoulders? He wondered if Spark hadn’t taken to coaching Jordan to make himself feel better, to remind himself that he would have kept Ianite safe, that he would have fixed the world before it broke out from under them.

It sounded like torture.

But it helped settle Wag. Call him selfish, but he felt better knowing other people had real problems, real grief, to deal with. Sure, Wag had his hang up with Martha. Yeah, he had his issues with being-a-wizard-yet-not. But he wasn’t as close to neck deep as Spark was. Like Martha was.

He wished belittling his problems made them feel less suffocating.

Martha. Martha was still pushing him away. And he was letting her. What did that say about him? About their relationship?

A sigh heaved out of his chest. It was like someone stuck a large rock right in his rib cage, tucked neatly between his lungs. Hard, heavy, and an all around burden. Potions. He needed to think about potions.

His hands betrayed him with a subtle shake. How many names did he have left to write? How many boxes did he have left to pack? Fuck if he knew. He had to keep counting, to find a way to wrap up all his issues, his panic, his fear, into a nice little package and tuck it away like a forgotten gift.

Athar help me, Wag tried to control his thoughts, I might drive myself insane by the end of the year.

As if on cue, another knock at his door broke his thoughts. He tried not to feel relieved to rush away from his potion packaging. He was fine, cool as a cucumber.

Throwing open the door, he came face to face with his second visitor of the day. Tom.

Tom was standing in front of his door almost uncertainly, like he wasn’t quite sure why or how he got there. He took one sweep over Wag’s unhidden face and a determined, focus look set in on his own.

“We,” Tom looped his arm around Wag’s in a sudden movement, “are going out somewhere. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.” 

Eyebrows shooting up, Wag let himself be dragged from his house with an aborted motion to close the door behind him. He mournfully watched his door stay ajar. Hopefully no one else ventured up the hill today, otherwise he might be down a few potions.

“Why?” Wag turned his attention back to Tom, who was resolute in his intention of pulling Wag away to Athar knows where.

A grin was shot in his direction. “You look like you need to get out of the house. Also, I’m real fuckin’ bored and you’re clearly in need of some company.”

A wry smile snuck on Wag’s face. “Oh lucky me. We should get some tea, live up to our trademark.”

Tom nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s hit town. Fuck it up. Flaunt our hero-ness and get shit faced.”

“Let’s not get shit faced, and especially not get kicked out of town for making a ruckus.” Wag fondly rolled his eyes. “I do quite like living here and it’d be a shame to have to follow you around to make sure you don’t die.”

Tom gave a mocked offended gasp, free hand coming up to his forehead as he leaned away. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’d never die if I didn’t live in a community. I’m a rogue, don’t you know.” He sniffed. “I can easily hold my own in the dangerous wilds.”

“Without anyone to pester and annoy?”

“I can pester anything!”

Wag bit his lip to stop a laugh. Tom always brought such energy with him. It was refreshing. Maybe he was right, he just needed some company.

He wouldn’t say that to his face, though.

“I suppose so,” Wag continued, “You are rather persistent. I bet you could annoy the sun into setting early.”

“Nah, I’d blow that fucker up instead.” Tom winked, snuggled back up to Wag, effectively trapping his arm. “I still think we should get shit faced. Drink our sorrows into the drain, throw them up another day.” 

Wag mock gagged. “I’d rather keep them down the drain, thank you. Besides, what a waste of alcohol. If I’m drinking, I’m drinking to keep it down. Not!” He quickly cut Tom off, “That I want to go out drinking.” He eyed the sky, giving a disapproving look to Tom when he saw that it was still early afternoon. “No one should be getting drunk before the sun touches the horizon.”

With a pout, Tom leaned into Wag’s side. “Lame. I suppose,” he drew out the word, “we could go get some good old fashioned tea. Call it a pre-game without the game.”

Wag rolled his eyes. He wasn’t looking to out game his issues. That wasn’t a solution. It’d just make him turn into a sad drunk and give him a headache in the morning.

This is why he needed weed back.

But also, he didn’t want to develop another problem. Gotta keep it clean. For now.

Tom still had his own plans, alcohol or no alcohol. “I find when I’m feeling down that doing something batshit stupid makes me feel better. We should go fishing with our bare hands- no, with only our teeth- and no shirt on. Attract ladies and gents to us alike. Are they looking at our finely chiseled chests or our daring courage? Who’s to say.”

“You are far from chiseled my friend. Try soft.” Wag poked Tom in the stomach jokingly. “And who said that I’m feeling down?”

“Hey!” Tom swatted his hand away. “I’ll have you know I’m more ripped than you’ll ever be!” He huffed, squeezing Wag’s arm. They walked in silence for a moment, now upon the town. After wandering the street for a second, Tom spoke again, quieter. “I had this feeling.” Wag eyes him. “It was weird. My gut was telling me to check in on you. And then when you opened the door it was written on your face. Even I’m not dumb enough to miss that.” 

Wag heard the unspoken I was worried carried in Tom’s words. Talk about soft. He squeezed Tom’s arm back. “Oh wow, a gut feeling?” He teased lightly, “I think it was just you missing my magical presence. It is hard to go too long without seeing me.” If only that were true. “But I’m here now, and we can go do something absolutely stupid, just for you.”

They share a smile, a quiet thank you floating between them.

Tom gets a glint in his eyes. “Does this mean we can go catch fish with our bare hands?”

“I suppose so.” Wag drawled. “How else are we going to show off our toned figures?”

That got him a laugh, one concerningly maniacal, and he was dragged between houses.

Yeah, he might regret this.

Tom turned and gave him a smile that was all teeth and no common sense. He paused next to the shore, a little ways off from the docks. Shucking his clothes, one Tom Syndicate stood proudly in his underwear, unconcerned about the effect of sunlight on zombified skin. People gave them a look of distaste.

Oh, he was definitely going to regret this. 

~~~

Soggy was one way to describe how Wag felt. Wet as shit was another. All in all, he was rather pleased with himself and the rather large, shiny fish sitting in his lap. The fish which so happened to be a fair amount larger than Tom’s.

“Oh fuck you.” Tom spluttered around a mouthful of fish, laying down an arm’s length away. He had gathered quite an amount of fish, a solid number for catching something with your mouth alone. None of them were that large. In fact, most were an average, if not slightly below, size.

Wag eyed the pile smugly. He may have only caught two, but damn if he didn’t go big.

“Well, it seems that I’ve caught myself a winner.” He tried not to look too pleased. The look on Tom’s face told him he failed.

Tom scoffed, letting the fish fall to the sandy floor with a wet fwop. “You got lucky! Clearly, quantity wins the game here. Sure, you caught one big, old, dumb motherfucker, but I caught a dozen other dumbass fish! I should get the win.”

“Wasn’t size the goal here?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before Tom could fire back, a voice from behind interrupted him. “I think the two fools sitting in their underwear soaked to the bone are both losers.”

Wag tilted his head back to see Tucker standing with his hands in his pockets, back slouched, and an easy smile on his face, standing just where the sand turned to grass. Next to him was one lovely fox lady, Sonja herself, and one Sparkle butt, Jordan.

Nice to see the gang all here.

Tom sat up. “How dare you! I’ll have you know we are the best fishers on the island!”

Tucker raised a single eyebrow. “Really now? Are all the other fishers out at sea today?”

“Well excuse you, Mr. Boner. I’ll have you know we caught all of this,” Tom sweeps his arm across their score. “And I think that’s quite the haul.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Fuck you.”

Tucker snickered, moving closer to poke his foot into Tom’s side. “That’s what I thought.”

Wag, meanwhile, was carefully moving his prize to the side so he could stand up. Brushing the sand off himself, he exchanged a smile with Sonja and a nod with Jordan. Sonja gave him a good natured headshake. “And here I thought you were smarter than this.”

Jordan’s eyes trailed down Wag’s chest before flittering away. “Right down to your boxers? Tom must have gotten you good.”

“Well, I was fairly set on getting a nice cup of tea and walking across the beach, hand in hand like real lovers, but Tom was far more intent to go all macho and catch fish with his mouth alone.” Wag leaned in with a hand against his mouth to give a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he’s trying to step up his oral game.” He winked.

Jordan groaned, giving Wag what he thought to be a rather dramatic eye roll. That wasn’t even the worst he had to offer, and he’d given him such an easy setup! Sonja waggled her eyebrows and giggled when Tom butted in. “It’ll never be as good as yours dear.” He batted his eyelashes mock innocently.

The group burst into laughter. Tucker stepped closer, swinging an arm around his vaguely damp shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice to see you out and about man. It’s been a hot second. Almost thought you’d drank the wrong potion and kicked it or something.” 

Wag nodded seriously. “Quite the real possibility. Why, just yesterday I almost drank real glitter! The kind you’re not supposed to eat.”

“Been there,” Sonja added, “I thought I was going to die when I did. Just gave me a very colorful trip to the bathroom.”

Tom grinned as he moved to elbow Jordan in the side. “I bet our good ole Captain here wouldn’t know the difference. How else did he get his namesake, right Mr. Sparkley Butt?”

“Hardy har,” Jordan gave Tom a fondly disgusted look. “The name’s Captain Sparklez, that ‘namesake’ came from you giving me a stupid nickname.”

They fell into more chatter, giving Tom and Wag the time to put their clothes back on, Tom not caring that he was still wet as he put his suit back on, while Wag just slung his cloak over himself. No point in putting pants on over wet underwear.

The group, all now clothed to some extent, began to wander back towards town. Wag was more than content to listen to Tom ramble on. He would get interrupted by Tucker when he said something ‘incredibly stupid’ and, more rarely, by Jordan, who would correct some technical thing that Tom clearly did not give a shit about.

Sonja drifted next to him, giving Wag a conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking mighty fine in just a robe and boxers. Is this the bedroom Wag special? Or is that sans boxers?” 

“The bedroom Wag special is whatever you want it to be.” He winked. “It’s magic all around.”

They exchanged a laugh, falling silent again.

Wag knew that wasn’t what Sonja really wanted to talk about.

She looked back at him, a warm look in her eyes. “It’s nice. To see you out. Been a while, y’know?” Sonja stretched her arms out in front of her. “It really has been a bit since we’ve talked. And since you’ve left the house. But honestly?” Her tail swishes behind her. “I could have made a few more treks up that damn mountain myself.”

Shaking his head, Wag elbowed her side lightly. “It is a fairly tall hill, but I think mountain is a bit of an overstatement.” It was, in fact, a bitch of a climb, but Wag didn’t think it was that bad. He’d put the tower just on the other side of the Glowstone Forest, across from the Priest’s house. (What was it called again? Forest of the Void? Abyss Forest? Obsidian Trees? Yeah, he didn’t know or care). 

Left unsaid was a ‘That’s okay, you don’t have to go out of your way’.

He received an eye roll. “Please, the only trek worse than that is up to where Tucker’s first house was. I was so happy when we moved it down the mountain. Well, into.”

It’s no trouble, her words left hanging, I don’t mind.

Wag huffed. How dare she be considerate. “You know what’s worse than a trek up a mountain? A trek up a mountain to get some rare flower, only to be spited by the universe and have not a single flower growing up there. Honestly, I could use some help from someone so used to climbing mountains.” A smirk pulled at his face. “Or maybe just send someone up there for me.”

We could always hang out when I’m playing master botanist. If you’d like.

Sonja smiled at him, but couldn’t resist getting a dig in. “Aw, did you skip leg day? Have some chicken legs over there? That’s alright, I’m sure someone,” she tilts her head, eyes sweeping past the buildings around them, “would be willing. Get a nice little lackey so you can rest your old bones at home and complain about how the cold makes your joints stiff.” 

“How dare you,” Wag sniffed, hand held up to his heart. “I’ll have you know, my joints are just fine in the cold! Some of us just aren’t made of the cold, little miss fox.”

Sonja, ever so mature, stuck her tongue out at him.

They kept up some conversation, occasionally stopping to listen in to whatever Tom was saying. Wag, for a moment, realized that he had missed this. Missed them. That even though he wanted to avoid all the new things in this world, he’d always have his friends.

A quiet, hopeless voice asked if they’d leave him too.

~~~

There was nothing quite like hiking up a hill, in only your boxers, a little buzzed, during the night time. The pure amount of skeletons that had sniffed around looking for a cheap shot alone was bad enough, but the fact that his legs already hurt from struggling to fish with just his mouth without drowning? Yeah, it felt more like he was climbing up a mountain that was near vertical.

Fuck gravity.

A pit of warmth had settled in his chest a couple hours ago. Whether it was the alcohol that Tucker, of all people, had got the group into drinking or just the effect of being with friends for a while, Wag felt content. Not a common feeling in recent times. It was nice.

Really nice.

Upon reaching his door, his mind scrambled to figure out why it was left slightly open. He shrugged. As long as nothing was missing or stolen, he didn’t really care.

He made his way inside- making sure to actually close the door behind him- and wandered over to the stairs. Ah, his mortal enemy. Between being a wizard way back when and the magic rampant in Ruxomar, he had gotten way too used to avoiding stairs. Now it was a chore to move up and down the tower. But his bed was upstairs and he was not sleeping on the crappy couch he shoved into the lobby for guests or customers again.

So stairs it was.

By the time he got halfway up the stairs, he wanted to quit. Why, in Athar’s name, did he put his room on the third highest level? Stupidity, that’s why. The view was so not worth it.

When he actually made it up to the correct floor, he pushed the door to his room open, chucked his clothes to one side, and collapsed in bed. Now this, this was worth it. Soft, plush, warm, and very much without skeletons.

The less arrows being shot at him the better.

A soft chuckle caught his attention. Or rather, killed the peace he had wrapped around himself mere hours earlier.

He didn’t move. Not because he was scared. No, he knew who was in his room. He just wanted to pretend, for a moment, like this was something he was used to.

Like coming home to his lover being home wouldn’t surprise him.

The bed dipped beside him and his robed and boxer-ed glory. A hand ran through his hair. Wag tried not to tense.

“Seems like you had a good night out.” Her voice was like silk, soft and pleasant on his ears. “Hopefully they didn’t hassle you too much.”

Wag breathed. His chest was tight, emotion punching at his ribs. “Yeah,” he said, “It was nice to have some time with them again.”

All of this felt so forgein, now. To have her here. Was she here? Or did he drink more than he had originally thought. Shit.

Martha scratched his head. “I do have to say, I’m surprised that you actually left the tower. You’ve been holed up here for so long I thought I’d have to drag you out.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Or maybe he was imagining it. His head was a mess and he wasn’t quite sure what he was making up and what was real.

It was kind of pathetic.

He laughed. “Yeah, Tom showed up and dragged me out. Not complaining though, I had a lot of fun. It was nice to take off from work. Making potions gets boring.”

So did sitting in your own depressing thoughts, but that was more exhausting than boring.

“Oh,” Wag turned his head to face Martha, looking up at her. The darkness made her hair stand out. It looked like a halo around her face, bringing out her lovely lilac eyes. She was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. But there was something heavy in her eyes that she tried to wipe away when his own reached her. “Jordan was looking for you earlier. Did he ever find you?”

Martha blinked and the heaviness was gone. Ish. He knew it was there. Somewhere.

“Ah, no.” She frowned. “I’ll have to see what he needs tomorrow.”

He nodded. To be honest, Wag wasn’t convinced Martha was actually sitting here with him. Which was kind of sad. Very sad.

“I can come with, if you’d like,” Wag rushed out, trying not to sound desperate. “We haven’t had much time together, which is understandable with your dad being around and all the stuff you need to do. And, y’know, it’d be nice to walk with you for a bit.”

Oh, he sounded so desperate.

Yikes.

A smile graced Martha’s lips. “Sure, I’d love that.” Wag let out a breath. “We’ll take a stroll, get a nice scenic view of the beach as we go, call it a date-” She cut off. The heaviness came back to her eyes. Wag knew what she was thinking. Who she was thinking about.

It hurt.

“I’m going to go take a shower before getting ready for bed. You can go ahead and sleep, if you’d like. I know you’ve had a long day and you’re probably tired. Don’t force yourself for me.” Martha stood as she said this, fingers trailing in his hair. Then she left.

Reluctantly, Wag got up to do just that. Changed his boxers and hung up his cloak. Buried himself back into bed, under the covers.

Yeah. It’d be a date.

~~~

Martha didn’t like to get up early. Neither did Wag. Normally, this lead to them sleepily cuddling until one felt so inspired as to get up. Normally.

Ever since the group returned to the land of Mianite, Martha didn’t sleep as well. Between nightmares, being a fledgling goddess, and the… absence of certain people, she found herself waking earlier and earlier.

Wag had his fair share of sleep troubles. Where sleep troubles stopped Martha from sleeping as much, it led to Wag sleeping more. The less he slept the more exhausted he was. The more exhausted he was the more he slept. It was a vicious cycle and actually the reason Wag didn’t leave the house as much.

Nonetheless, both found themselves getting ready to leave just after dawn. Martha moved like last night didn’t end awkward and uncomfortable. Bright, cheerful, and painfully affectionate with Wag. Like she hadn’t been avoiding him for the better part of their stay here.

The worst part was that this wasn’t the first time she came back like nothing was wrong. It was almost like she could tell when he was starting to doubt their relationship. Except, he was constantly doubting their relationship. Even when things had been going well. But this time, it was like she knew when he was thinking about how much of a relationship they didn’t have.

Which was concerning if she actually knew what he thought.

Wag, on the other hand, moved like a zombie. Tired, groggy, and barely awake. The picture of early morning beauty. It wasn’t far off from how he used to act, but now it was like someone had chained weights to his feet.

Damn, he was tired as shit.

Martha had set about making some breakfast from the little food he had. Some eggs, some- thankfully not spoiled- fruit, and milk. Wag was pretty sure he didn’t have milk, but he wasn’t going to question it. She was the more magical of the two, now, so it was within reason that she could get milk in the few minutes he’d lagged behind her in getting out of bed.

He, on the other hand, was on the task of making coffee. Coffee was something of a luxury here, since it was so new to the land. It wasn’t grown naturally on the island and Wag wasn’t sure if it was imported from some far off place or if it had been introduced by the earlier dimension hoppers that still hung around. Spark, for sure, seemed to run on the stuff.

That didn’t really matter to Wag, though. He had a plant of it in his garden, for ease of access, but more importantly to see if it could be used to help crossbreed weed into existence. No far off land had procured the plant yet, so he would still strive to be the maker of weed.

Not the best plan in the world, but that wouldn’t matter once he actually made the plant.

He really shouldn’t be encouraging substance abuse.

Surely, coffee would wake him up. Then he could go on a walk with Martha and do that thing they seemed to do where they avoided those topics and pretended like everything was fine. And maybe, just maybe, they’d enjoy the conversation. Maybe they’d feel something again, feel whole for the brief moment where they let themselves forget about the person who was missing, the person that clearly held more place in Martha’s heart for it to have torn so much when he-

Maybe Wag would get his shit together and let things die between them.

Maybe he’d decide that fighting an uphill battle wasn’t worth it.

For now, though, he was content to pretend things were the same. It was better than being entirely, wholly alone. And, deep in his heart, he still loved her. So, so much.

Enough that he knew it would hurt no matter what he did.

They chatted over the food Martha cooked. She complemented his coffee, the beans from the plant he owned, and he told her that the cooking is just as good as it’d always been.

Neither mentioned that it was usually Steve, not either of them, that did the cooking.

They tossed little affections at each other with ease. Like it was second nature. A brush of hands, a quick smile, a peck on the cheek. It was like a dance. As though they were trying to make a show of how much they still cared, how much nothing had changed despite the fact that everything had changed.

Hands loosely held together, they left the house as a unit, holding up a conversation with ease. If either of them tripped up in their speech as they avoided that topic or this word, neither called each other out for it. For all that everything was off and wrong, they made it work. They found a way to shove a cube into a round hole.

Whether it was because they wanted it to work so bad or because the hole was a giant chasm with space for miles was up to debate.

The beach was calm in the early morning. Fishers were stocking up their ships to start up on their daily trip, tightening a rope here, making space there. Few people walked about the town, the kids either asleep or getting hassled to eat breakfast. With so few people out, it felt like they were on the outskirts of life, just the two of them. Like viewing the world through a painting.

That illusion was helped by the sheer height of Jordan’s tree. It was still there, despite the damage it had received when Tom got to it. If he looked closely, Wag could see the remains of burn marks and grooves held in the thick bark. He had heard that, after the heroes had left, Ianite had nursed the tree back to life in honor of her lost champion.

He ignored the fact that Ianite had sent them into the void in the first place.

Wag himself had left before that, called on to help the heroes that he had watched over as a distant wizard. Even now, he wondered if it had been worth it. To lose everything because he was asked to. In his weakest moments, he wondered if it hadn’t been the gods’ way of throwing him out.

That thought hurt the most out of everything in his life and he never let it linger.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the base of the hill that Jordan’s tree- sorry, Jerry’s Tree- sat beside. They weren’t that close to getting inside yet, but it was a milestone.

As they climbed the hill, massive roots stretching out below them, Wag started up some conversation about the different species of trees. He never once mentioned apple trees. It was part of his botany, after all, and important to keep track of. The types of trees, not apple trees. Apple trees were just one of those topics and therefore something they made an unspoken agreement not to talk about.

He pondered, during his ramble, that Martha could have just flown up the tree. She could do that, after all. Wag couldn’t. Not anymore. The worst part was that he’d help build this tree, or, well, make it. Way back then. That was a sore spot to think about, but even still he was in awe of the tree. Not because of the fact that he's contributed to it- no, he had felt a sense of pride for that a long time ago. Rather, because of how it’d regrown.

Ianite’s gentle hand had turned it from merely a large, enchanting tree to a behemoth of divine wonder. Its branches had spread further, with more room between them and the tips reaching towards the heavens. The leaves had shaped up and gotten fuller, surely the size of a full-grown adult by now. Fireflies could be seen lazily hovering about clusters of leaves, giving the tree a pleasant, natural lighting.

Many more platforms and walkways had been built, new buildings having been added on top of that. They stretched from one end to the other. The most daring teased the edge of a branch, hung firmly along the length of it. The walkways were either long rope bridges made of braided vines that shimmered a faint purple or ramps made and reinforced by the same wood the tree was made of, the bottom featuring fancy swirls alongside the support beams.

Other vines, flora, and bushes lined the branches and platforms. Though they looked like they were leeching off the tree at first, a closer inspection- granted you were on the tree to get an inspection- showed they were delicately wrapped around the branches and sneakily planted in hidden pots for a more natural look. The flowers ranged from all sorts of purples- fitting. Buddleias enclosed doorways, Hyacinthus were wound along lanterns strung along pathways, and an abundance of Jacaranda could be found wherever space was made for flora.

The more he looked the more nature there was to see, the more connecting walkways there were strung along, the more everything there was. It felt like the whole world was home under the canopy.

The tree had gone from the house of a solitary man to a city of nature.

It didn’t feel like the same tree.

Wag pushed aside the nagging thought that it was better than anything he could have ever made. Ianite was a full fledged goddess, Wag was- had been- a mere wizard with the idea of godhood in his head. What he made had been incredible for mortal standards, and was still incredible for the standards he had held himself to. It would do no good to compare himself to Ianite, especially when all she had done was repair what was already there.

As they made their way up to the crest of the hill, following the path from the town to the tree as it curled around Jordan’s old home, Wag spared a glance at the birch and quartz house. It was simple, sleek and minimal. It suited Jordan. Of course, Jordan himself had made it, so why wouldn’t it?

Compared to Jerry’s Tree, though, it seemed rather dull and insignificant.

Actually.

Wag spared a closer look at the smaller home. It looked lived in. A frown pulled at his lips. Was someone living there? Who else, other than Jordan, would?

Martha had picked up the conversation now, adding in details about trees that she had seen in her travels long ago, ones he’d never have had the chance to see. There were many interesting species, some magical in the same sense as Silverwoods, some as plain as a simple oak tree, but all more than enough to satiate Wag’s desire to know more. His mind kept getting pulled back to the Casa de Sparklez, though.

A thought struck him, one he’d had just moments before.

Jerry’s Tree looked and felt so different, now that Ianite had tended to it. Like it was a different tree. Did Jordan think the same? Did it feel less like home, after being away for so long and having watched it burn?

Was Jordan living in his older house because the tree felt so forgein?

Martha was going on about a beautiful tree known for the lights its seeds shone, especially during the night hours. It really sounded like a sight to behold. More than that, the gentle, awed look on Martha’s face pulled at Wag’s heart.

Take care of her.

There was a sour taste in his mouth. Wag decided not to mention what he had just noticed. That was Jordan’s business, not his.

Martha was looking at him now, a small, shy smile on her lips. Wag felt like if he said the wrong thing it’d disappear in an instant. Like Martha was used to having her interests pushed aside, or used to pushing them aside herself when people didn’t seem to care about what she was saying.

Take care of her.

He offered a smile back, a genuine one. He really did love her. More than anything, he wanted to keep loving her. But something told him it wouldn’t work. That what they had had started to decay sometime around the end of Ruxomar, around when he left.

No, around when Martha almost became Mrs. a instead of a Ms.

Bitterness clutched at Wag’s heart. For all the love he held for her, he wondered, again and again, if she held the same. If she ever held the same, if she even held something close to the same.

Take care of her.

Looking up at Jerry’s Tree, Wag remembered what it used to be. He remembered watching it burn, the pain he had felt in seeing his hard work get tarnished, in seeing a friend’s home wither away.

Now, though, it was different. Not quite a home, anymore, but reborn. Alive. And maybe, in the future, it’d be a home again, or maybe not. Maybe it needed to burn for it to become what it was now. Jordan would have never built it up to this, but Ianite had.

Maybe that was the secret, Wag pondered. Maybe you had to let things burn to be able to build them up stronger.

He looked at Martha again, at the softness in her face and the hardness in her eyes. His heart pulled in so many directions. Love, anguish, love, despair, love, hurt, love love love.

Yeah, he was going to have to let this relationship burn.

[wee-guy]

                                 Why did you climb the mountain?

A rant sketch inspired by @insertdisc5​ post that I just reblogged. I haven’t been feeling great tonight and it’s always sat with me that these children climbed a big ass mountain without adult supervision. Especially Frisk. 

Below the cut is some headcannons for a kinda mental health AU? Idk, it was therapeutic to write.

It makes me think of a sort of AU were MC/reader purposefully goes to the mountain because of the rumours and obviously isn’t successful but meets a bunch of monsters who know why they came to the mountain and want to help.

Classic Sans: knows what it’s like to feel hopeless, to not want to get out of bed, how some things become so difficult to achieve. Knows what it’s like to have to hide how you feel, be happy and funny to make sure others don’t worry. If you need to do the thing, he will do the thing with you being “helpful” with his puns. He’s always there with soft encouragement and always praises the small things. Will probably make you those star stickers, “you got out of bed!” “you brushed your teeth!” “you managed social interaction!” “you didn’t cry today!”. Is interested in what you want to do in education and/or work. Will help you plan and work towards whatever that is. He knows some folk. 

Classic Papyrus: obviously is your personal cheer squad. Knows just how to motivate you but if it isn’t working and it’s a bad day knows when to calm down and let you take things at your own pace. Tell him your deepest desires, your biggest dreams, no matter how unattainable or silly it seems. You want to be an astronaut? You need to be physically healthy, go to school to get good grades and do training to achieve that? Pffft, that’s only three things, you can totally do that! Teaches you how to hold onto a dream and keep back the bad thoughts that say you can’t do it. You’ll show them! Will cook and bake with you while making some idle chatter. Afterwards will sit with you and watch MTT or something you’re currently interested in cuddled under a blanket.

Fell Sans (Red): the worst kept secret is that he is a softie. Will chill out with you and give you as much physical touch as you’re comfortable with. Little thumb strokes, hair strokes, hip bumps, squeezes and full on “you are now my personal squish, now chill out and watch the tv show”. Is your protector, there behind you to make sure no one walks over you or just there as silent encouragement when you need to do scary adult things. Knows what it’s like to have manic lows were the sadness is energetic and wants out. Knows how hard it is to stay strong when you need to be supported. Is there for you when this happens, even if he just silently holds you.

Fell Papyrus (Edge): you are the only one he is soft and gentle to. You know what that means? You are worthy of the terrible Papyrus! These other humans are merely jealous of your brilliance! Actual fashion icon who encourages you to express yourself however you want. Cut or dye your hair? Edge is there critiquing cuts and colours and of course approving of your choices. Your style is very much worthy of the terrible Papyrus’s approval. Humans are staring? Yes, how could they not? You look amazing! And the commoners are weak to resisting such style! Will absolutely call you by your preferred pronouns or name without question, although all skeles will do so too. Teaches you to be comfortable with yourself and that you are worth your own existence. 

Swap Sans (Blue): Another very energetic cheer squad! Preaches the importance of routine and activities. Won’t push you with exercise if you aren’t into that, gentle jogs or walks or swimming, anything calming and enjoyable. After all, what’s the point if you don’t enjoy it! Will help you figure out what the best times are you to do things, are you an early bird or a night owl? When do you get hungry? Do you have medication? When do you need to take them? He makes a very cool schedule with reminders on your phone so you don’t forget. Is very interested in your hyperfixations and is eager to learn all about it! Info dump your little heart out! Blue won’t judge and is 9/10 more likely to want to become involved too! He secretly knows what it’s like to not be respected for being yourself, whether that be for the things you love or how you look. He’s very well aware of what other monsters see him as. But! He will show you how the magnificent Sans achieves what he wants, does what he wants all the while being true to himself!

Swap Papyrus (Stretch): Another chill boy. He’s always there for you if you need to chill, talk or be distracted. No, literally. He always seems to be close to you wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, without actually moving at all...Is not at all a therapist but will listen to you when you need to talk or vent or explain something you love or have just learned. Will go with you to any doctors appointments or therapy sessions and be there for you, slouched down in his chair. Pull up a beanbag, pal, tell him all about it. Very good at distracting you with music or games or some sweet treats. A rock of a skeleton boy. Knows what it’s like to be so overwhelmed by your feelings being trapped inside you that you loose interest in things and become numb. Will show you coping mechanisms he learned himself and will always never let you forget that he is always there for you.

SwapFell Sans (Blackberry): This is a very smart boy. He clawed his way up to royal guard status without the usual violence, he doesn’t need to. Is an expert and obsessed with cheating the system and getting clever sneaky payback. Any trouble and he has it sorted, he’s both better and worse than a Karen. Will talk to a manager, teacher, professional and come out the victor. That person who bullied you? Strangely bolts whenever you are in their proximity ... Teaches you what you can do to help yourself in certain situations and how to come across confident in yourself even when you’re not. Somehow knows everything about everyone and is always doing things like reminding you that your medication is running low, you need to book another doctors appointment, even tells you that that thing you were eyeing up is much cheaper elsewhere and he’s already ordered it for you so don’t worry about it. His literal moto is “you don’t need to worry about it anymore, I’ll handle it.” But he knows when to slow down and teach you how to do things yourself. He is also a master at pet names. Darling? Sweetheart? Love? Baby? He’ll find out what you prefer and use it to his advantage, and you’ll love it. Knows how things can build and build and how sometimes the littlest thing can be the domino effect that makes everything crash. Shows you how to prioritise and take it one task at a time. 

Swapfell Papyrus (Russ): Just...a sweet boy. A little nasty, but sweet. Why do you sometimes have the urge to protect him and then suddenly feel submissive to his protection? Is a firm believer in therapy through action. You like art? He’s found this little group where you just be calm and do art and maybe talk about your feeling, lets both go. Is music your thing? Here, if you’re sad how about you press all the low keys at once? BOOOOOAAAAAMMMMM. Writing? Writing how you feel is very important to both understand yourself and how you’re feeling, to be able to reflect and point out things that triggered you and also be able to show a professional symptoms and explain how you feel without having to strain to remember. But you can also write for the pure enjoyment of words and the movement of your pen or the rhythmic click of your keyboard. Will help you with prompts and inspirations. Will never judge you for using a fandom or interest to help you get through this. Will definitely show you some of his own stuff. Knows how lonely you can feel even when surrounded by people, even when it doesn’t make sense to feel lonely or sad. Teaches you that it’s ok to feel these emotions but shows you when you need to stop in order not to become consumed by it. 

Horror Sans (Mars...?): Is deeply knowledgeable about trauma. He had a long road recovering from his. His trauma might make you feel stupid for your feelings but he will shut that down immediately. His broken leg doesn’t make your broken arm any less painful. Will be able to understand how you feel about your trauma and how that has affected you. He’s very careful to put down boundaries so neither of you trigger the other. He’s your mental health buddy, someone close who’s going through the same thing that you can talk to and know that you are fully understood. You can ask questions to help understand yourself and your own journey. Will show you how to focus and enjoy small things. Believes that people are either water people or earth people. Does the sound and sight of water make you calm? Just the rhythmic movement and sound drift you away while you both pick up cool looking rocks and smooth sea glass and sometimes even a shell! Or do you like big grassy parks or forests you can walk to your hearts content and just breathe? You both pick up some cool leaves to press between a book, take some pictures of plants and trees and sunsets. Whenever you need a break, whether you realise or not, he will whisk you away to just bask in silence for a while. A big cuddler, he has a blanket nest, hop on in and have a nap. 

Horror Papyrus (Sweetie): Knows deeply how hard it is to adapt sometimes, and how your adapting to situations can hurt you later. Knows what it’s like to be judged by how you look, especially if there are things you need to hide. Helps you with Edge’s quest, especially with clothes. He’s very good at finding unique objects that no one else has. Often comes back from thrift and charity shops with a few things he think’s you’ll like. Will cuddle up with you and listen to how you feel about yourself and the way you look. Helps you come to terms with yourself, accept yourself. Always has a compliment for you, building it up from small things so you can learn to believe and accept them. Knows ways to help you if you sometimes dissociate and especially if it’s triggered by photos or mirrors. If you need to go to the dentist or the doctor for operations or procedures, he’s right there with you holding your hand. He himself has some very cool braces for his teeth, some funky glasses and some support of his posture. Loves to teach you how to solve puzzles and will sit behind you and point out words he finds in the word searches. A very good bonding buddy. Also, he always has snacks, he is a snack mom. Sometimes he even slips food and water into your bag and pockets. 

[leonmelinda-blog]

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[wildewebdesign-blog]

My weight loss journey

 This was me at the beginning of my journey

December 2018 I decided to stand on the scales to see just how heavy I was, and my god I was horrified by the digits I saw! Thats when my love/hate relationship with the weighing scales took a turn for the better. I then decided that my new years resolution would be to lose some weight and get in to shape! So, on the 1st of January 2019 I did just that!

I started to eat healthier and make healthier choices at first but my mindset on food remained the same, which as we all know (for those that have a food addiction) is a real pain in the backside as we just hate wasting food or leaving leftovers. I mean being a few pounds away from twenty nine stone wasnt good for me, my health or my amazing wife who has supported me throughout my entire journey so far! The first step was to cut my portion size down bit by bit so it wasnt a drastic change, stop having takeaways and give myself one day of the week where I could eat something naughty to help curve the cravings for the rest of the week (didn’t go so well, ate like a pig on crap food!) So, I limited myself eventually but that bit comes later in my story! The first week I had lost almost half a stone and was feeling on top of the world! I never thought I could lose weight, as I always gave up after a month or so, this time however I was determined to stick it out. I had an appointment with the doctors, can’t remember what for but the results from a blood test showed I was ALMOST pre-diabetic, so even more important to shift the weight! By going along with most of the official Slimming World guidelines and rules (didn’t go to meetings, not my thing!) I found it easier at first, but figured out very quickly that it had its limitations as some things may work for others but not for me so, I made some tweaks to it, first off, its not a diet. Its a way of life! That bit is very important as if its a diet, you can quit at anytime, whereas if it is a part of daily life, you can’t!

After four months of eating healthier, being a little more active I had a follow up appointment with my GP who actually referred me to the gym, which to be fair I was a little anxious about, I mean the stigma around gyms is they are full of muscular, skinny people but, I found they weren't! Others like me doing their best to shed a few pounds. I will admit, I got addicted to the endorphins and the rush you get afterwards! Oh did I mention that before I started in the gym I had lost three and a half stone already?

Those of you that are on Slimming World and are buying SW chips, or par boiling homemade chips… DON’T DO IT! There is a better way! Handy trick for you, you can either peel them or keep the skin on, but slice your potatoes into chips, spray an oven tray with enough frylight to coat the tray, place the chips on, salt/pepper them and spray more frylight on top to make them crispy and place in the oven at 200 degrees Celsius for half an hour (depending on how you like them) and they are gorgeous! Healthy chips without all the faff!

  Ok so, I left off last time after mentioning about my first visit to the gym. This was a whole new area of the world I hadn’t previously explored and was completely clueless! I knew how to use the bike and the treadmill but that was it. The fitness instructor I was assigned to was very inviting and kind, and always paid me compliments which helped boost my confidence whilst in the gym. I started on the TRX, bike, treadmill and squats to start with so, basically all cardio. Which I found relaxing to be fair. It got me into a routine, which I highly recommend for weight loss! Routine is one of the main things that has helped me get this far! Food routine and daily routine. After all, your body stores fat when you have irregular eating patterns as it doesn't know when it will be fed next. Sorry I digressed a little there.

 I found that once I am in the gym, headphones in and my favourite music playing I was in the zone, where I could push myself each week to work harder, do more and improve the statistics on my account to show myself I am capable of doing it. At this point I was only attending the gym twice per week. I did this for six months and had lost a total of six and a half stone at this point. I even lost weight over Christmas!

 Things changed in May 2020 thanks to the Corona Virus pandemic, where all the gyms, swimming pools etc all closed, so this is where I had to get creative to continue the weight loss and not just sit at home eating crap because I was stuck inside. So I headed over to Youtube and found one or two easy workout videos which I did every day, I was seeing great results! Losing more than I did whilst in the gym and feeling more energetic. I moved on to the video I still use every day today, Emi Wong 30 minute minute HIIT workout with no jumping. Not quite beginner but still a great workout, it has helped me get to the point where at this moment in time (04/06/2020) I am a pound away from a nine and a half stone loss! This is the part of my story where I can share some of the tricks I have used in order to get this far. Most of which are easy enough to do, but some will require self control and a great mental attitude!

 This is me now, weighing 19.2 stone! 

  1) Routine, as mentioned above this helps you to stay the course and also allows you more freedom if that makes any sense?

2) Drink plenty of water, this in turn helps the skin retain its elasticity which helps your skin bounce back instead of having saggy, loose skin afterwards.

 3) Eating meals which are healthy, but can be made exciting using herbs and spices to spruce them up a little, you can still have whatever you want but portion control is a must. I still eat sausages but they are Linda McCartney vegetarian sausages.

 4) Keep active, says it all really. No explanation needed.

 5) Change the way you think about food. Before I started this journey I LOVED pizza and now everytime I think about eating a slice I feel physically sick!

 6) Three square meals a day at regular times, for example everyday I have two weetabix, blueberries, grapes, raspberries and strawberries for breakfast. Then I have lettuce, cucumber, cheese and ham sandwiches for dinner and for the main meal I tend to go for gammon (fat removed), broccoli and the chips I mentioned above. I don’t get hungry during the day doing this, so im not liable to eat more than I should.

 7) Don’t be afraid to ask for help! People that want to see you in the best shape of your life are more than willing to help! NEVER be ashamed or afraid if you get tempted or have cheated by eating something you shouldn't have, we all do it! At the end of the day its your body, your choices and your life!

  So that is my story so far. Any questions? Want somewhere to start yourself? Feel free to comment below and I will answer when I can as my wife and I run two small businesses. One is a website design business called www.wildewebdesign.co.uk and the other is a craft business called www.wildeaboutcrafts.co.uk feel free to take a look :)

[lovemesomesurveys]

SEVEN DEADLY SINS Sin 1: Lust 1. Who was the last person you checked out? Did they check you out too? It’s been a looooooong time, honestly.  2. Who was the last person you desired, but they didn’t feel the same? Ty. 3. Ever cheated on a significant other? If so, have you learned from it? No. 4. Do you watch porn? No, not my thing.

5. Do you masturbate? No.

6. Best physical features on your preferred sex? Eyes, smile, hair, jaw line, arms. A nice stomach is nice, too. 7. Who are some celebrities that you think are totally hot? Alexander Skarsgard. 8. Did you ever lust after a best friend’s significant other? How did it turn out? No. 9. When was the last time you had sex? I’m a virgin.  10. Ever pursued someone, even though they were taken? No. Sin 2: Gluttony 1. When did you last eat at a restaurant? What restaurant was it? IHOP a couple weeks ago with my mom after doing some Christmas shopping. 2. When did you last have fast food? Where did you get it? For breakfast on Christmas day we had breakfast sandwiches from Jack in the Box. 3. What was the biggest meal you had all day? Nothing so far today, it’s only 1:54AM.  4. Do you have too many clothes? How often do you go shopping? Yes. I need to go through and get rid of stuff. It’s something I need to do soon. 5. What’s something you have a LOT of? Clothes and giraffe stuffed animals. 6. Do you eat a lot? Not really. I should be eating a lot more. 7. What was the last thing you splurged (spent a lot of money) on? Christmas presents. I always get a little too carried away for Christmas, but I love spoiling my family when I can. 8. What do you spend most of your money on (besides bills and anything necessary like that)? Clothes and coffee. 9. Last time you ate candy? What was it? I don’t remember. I haven’t had candy in such a long time. 10. Last thing you ate too much of? I’ve had Wingstop and pizza from my favorite pizza place a lot lately, but I love it. Sin 3: Greed 1. Do you share things? How often? Yes. I don’t know how often? I share what I can, when I can. 2. Someone asks you for a piece of your cookie. You break it in half, but the pieces aren’t equal. Who gets the bigger piece? I always give the other person more of whatever it is we’re splitting. 3. When you see change on the ground, do you pick it up? Rarely. 4. How often do you lend money to people? I don’t get asked often. More often I treat my family to things when I can, but if they ever needed to borrow money and I was able to lend it, then I certainly would.  5. Do you loooove money? Unfortunately, it’s necessary and I’d be lying if I said I wish I didn’t have a little more of it.  6. If someone offers to pay for you, do you decline or readily accept? If it’s my parents or brother, I’ll accept. I feel comfortable enough to, and I pay for them sometimes as well. If it’s someone else, I’ll decline unless they’re really persistent about it, but I’ll treat them the next time. 7. Which of your friends is the wealthiest? I don’t have any friends. 8. Would you take a high-paying job that you didn’t really like just for the money and benefits? Not if I was just absolutely miserable.  9. Ever stole from anyone? What about stole from a store? What happened? Only when I was a kid. I thought the candy in the big candy bins was free. :X 10. Do you ever have enough money? My family and I have a roof over our head, food to eat, clothes to wear, bills are paid, and we have nice things. Things definitely get stressful, though. Some months tend to be harder than others, financially. I, personally, would like to have more of it, but I’m able to have the necessities.  Sin 4: Sloth 1. Last thing you procrastinated on? Life. 2. When you’re at a strip mall and the next store you want to go to is at the other side, do you drive over there instead of take a short walk? I usually just head over there, but it would depend on how far the next store is. 3. What’s a typical day off of school and/or work like for you? I’m finished with school and I don’t have a job, but a typical day for me consists of checking social media, watching TV, watching YouTube, Tumblr, surveys, and resting. Lately I’ve also been playing my Nintendo Switch because I recently got Luigi’s Mansion 3, which I had been wanting to play since it came out. 4. What’s one talent you have that you don’t really work on, even though you have the ability to be good at it? I don’t have any. 5. How many hours of television do you watch a day? It really varies. Most of the time it’s on for background noise more than anything, but it depends on the day and what’s on. I multitask, so I tune in and out to what’s on unless it’s a new episode of a favorite show.  6. What about the amount of time you spend on the internet a day? I’m always either on my laptop or on my phone doing something, even if just watching YouTube.   7. How many hours of sleep do you get a day? Do you sleep in late? Lately, my sleep schedule has been from like 4AM to 12-1PM.  8. Do you drive to places that are less than three blocks away? I don’t drive, personally, but yeah my family and I take the car everywhere.  9. When was the last time you exercised? Uhhhh. 10. Ever copied and pasted your homework from a website on the internet? No. Sin 5: Wrath 1. If you could kill one person and get away with it, would you do it? No! 2. Is there anyone you honestly and truly can say that you hate? Besides myself, no. 3. Is there anyone you want revenge on, whether you want to get them back big-time or just play a little prank on them for hurting your feelings? No. I’m not a revengeful person. 4. Are you fighting with any friends right now? Why? No friends, so no. 5. Last time you were really angry? What happened? Blah. 6. When you’re angry, what do you do to calm yourself down? When I’m angry I shut down and just cry. 7. “Hate is just the fear of loving someone.” true or false? I wouldn’t say that. 8. What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? I don’t seek revenge. 9. Was there any hard feelings after your last break-up? On whose end was it on? He broke things off with me, and there was definitely hard feelings on my end. He seemed completely unfazed.  10. Ever been cheated on? How did that make you feel? No. Sin 6: Envy 1. Is there anyone you’re jealous of? Name a person and tell us why. This is the envy section and envy and jealousy are different things. I am envious of certain types of people. 2. List three physical features some other people have that you’re envious of (no need to get specific and name people; you can just say something like “brown eyes” or “having perfect eyebrows”). Blue or green eyes, nice, shiny, thick hair that styles well, perfect shiny white teeth, fit bodies... 3. List three personality features that other people have that you’re envious of. Outgoing, intelligent, witty, adventurous, driven and ambitious, talented... 4. Are you a jealous significant other? I’m single. 5. Could you date someone who was really jealous? No. If they’re the possessive and abusive type, then absolutely not. 6. What celebrity’s looks do you envy the most? All the gorgeous ones. 7. Do you think anyone is envious of you? In your opinion, what characteristics (physical and mental) do you possess that you think someone might be envious of? HA, no. 8. What are a few things you wish you were good at? I wish I could play the piano, sing, draw, be an adult... 9. Did you ever date someone, break up, and then see them dating someone very attractive a few days later? Were you jealous of that person? No. 10. When looking at a love interest’s exes, do you often find yourself jealous of their good-looking exes? It has happened. Sin 7: Pride 1. What’s something you brag about a lot (be honest–we all brag sometimes)? I’m honestly probably the most non-braggy person you’ll ever meet. There, I guess that’s me bragging about something.  <<< Haaaa, same. I have nothing else to brag about. Also, bragging isn’t a cute look anyway. It’s one thing to be proud of yourself and your accomplishments, but bragging is another level. 2. What physical features do you take the most pride in? None. 3. Are you satisfied with what you have? Some things. 4. Be honest… when someone is telling you something, do you often change the subject so it’s about you and your accomplishments instead? Nooo, I’m very much the opposite. I shift the conversation away from me and towards them.  5. Do you like talking about your achievements? What achievements? 6. Do your parents tend to brag about how well you came out? My parents like to share that I went to a good college and got my BA in psych. Sounds all good when just left at that. Too bad I haven’t done anything at all since graduating and that degree is just collecting dust. I don’t even want to pursue that anymore. I have no idea what I want to do. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to do anything. :X  7. Do you strive to be better than others? Do you think competing with others is healthy? Ha, clearly not. 8. What do you do better than most people? Nothingggg. 9. Do you believe in taking pride in things you can’t control (ex. being proud of your heritage, being proud of your skin color, being proud of your natural artistic ability)? Sure.  10. Who are you competing with right now (it could be anything–classmates for a grade, co-workers for a position, other girl for a guy, etc.)? I don’t feel Im competing with anyone. I’m not even in the running.

[alittleroseandhoneyblog-blog]

Sticks and Stones

A comment left on one of my photos!*

Let’s start this by simply saying Thank you!

Thank you for taking the time to comment on one of my photos – thank you for providing your opinion on a topic that we as women face on a daily basis – I want you to know that when you attacked my body, you did not effect me in a negative way – you did not discolor my self esteem, you did not hurt me (as I have been through far worse) and you certainly did not make me think any less of myself– in fact you empowered me.

You’ve made me stronger, so thank you!    

In many ways you are right, your opinion is exactly that – but it’s your form of “fit” that I do not fit into – not mine (or those who love me)  You see, this whole industry is in the eye of the beholder – it’s what we choose to get out of the process that matters, it’s all indifferent and perhaps if you removed your rose-colored glasses you would see beauty in all the different shapes and sizes the human body comes in rather then taunting those around you for not having your form of fit.

Those comments set us back, they linger and are a leading cause of so much self doubt and self sabotage and that conversation needs to change, you cannot be teaching children that – in fact, you should be educating yourself because YOUR perception of what “FIT” is needs to change.

FIT is defined as

“in good health”

……especially because of regular physical exercise.  

Well, that sounds like me…I mean

I have climbed the CN tower stairs, twice – all 1,776 of them.

I dance, every day for upwards of an hour or two

I lift weights every day

I fuel my body properly; I do not diet or restrict what foods I put into my body (because I am human)

So contrary to an unsolicited opinion on MY body…I AM FIT and here’s the thing- YOU (whoever you were) don’t get to decide – 

I have moved past that way of thinking – and I invite you to as well!  

I am not an expert.  I do not have a flashy background it fitness, I am not a trainer or a nutritionist – but what I do have is life experience, I’ve been through trauma (that I am still healing from) I have demons that I have been so ashamed to face until recently because of fear of judgement from not only strangers but from people who frequent my table.  The truth is none of this is easy to talk about, no one wants to stand up and talk about their body in a negative way, or relive their toxic relationships no one wants to risk appearing weak when there is already so much judgment out there, but guess what, we all have pasts, we all have gone through something that has lead us to be who we are today and just because someone has a similar story and lived through similar situations (and survived) doesn’t mean that your story is any less validated, it doesn’t make the experience any less traumatic or hard and it certainly doesn’t mean that you don’t have the right to tell it – we tell our stories in hopes that it helps someone so that it shows that we can go through dark times and still rise – we should be encouraging people to read their chapters out loud instead of claiming rights to something that many of us have faced whether its disordered eating, body image, mental health, self sabotage, relationships…and so much more. 

My first ever heartbreak had a lot to do with my weight at 21 … I will never forget how I watched a man that I loved fall out of love with me as the number on the scale went up. I was insecure about it but we never talked about it - I never asked the right questions I never asked if he was still attracted to me (as he gained the same “happy” weight I did) I didn’t ask if he was falling out of love with me but up until that point I never struggled with my body image and I believed that the number on the scale didn’t define me – but the truth is, it DID (in my own mind at least) – and in the end he broke up with me.  Truthfully, I can pinpoint that to exactly when my negative relationship with my body started.  B and I ate out a lot and If we weren’t eating out then I was cooking big meals that were greasy and with portion sizes that were out of control, I thought food solved everything. I gained about 30 “happy pounds” and hit my second puberty. My hips went up 5 sizes, my boobs were out of control and I didn’t recognize the girl I saw in the mirror anymore.

Dating as a chubby girl was seriously depressing so much so that I tried online dating (I know, save the judgment for later) I remember only using pictures of my face and avoiding anything that showed my body – and I ended up meeting this guy and after a few days of us texting we went for a movie (we had a wonderful time and he seemed really into me) but unfortunately on the ride home he pulled over 3 times and PULLED IT OUT…(I am not joking and there is a whole other story to this) anyways – I declined – politely (3 times, once with tears lol)  I could tell that his ego was a little hurt.  Shortly after he dropped me off at home I got a message from him that said… “you know you’re a lot bigger in person” as if that was the reason he wasn’t going to see me again - (not that he was a total pig) but honestly I was shocked and so embarrassed that someone openly commented on my weight (that wasn’t my grandma) and I wont lie It really hurt my feelings,  but I politely reminded him that the weight was something I could easily work off, but he was stuck with a small dick for the rest of his life (lol) and so we never spoke again (until he came across my social media last year and has been creeping ever since!!)

The truth is in that moment I became so desperate to have my old body back - to be able to fit into my old pair of jeans (the “before” him jeans) that I started skipping meals – I lied to my loved ones about what I was putting in my body - I ended up in the hospital - multiple times with stomach pain and exhaustion - I took a leave of absence from work because I was too sick to even get out of bed.  

I DID THAT - I starved my body and all I can remember thinking at the time was that it worked, I lost the weight as if it was some miracle.  It didn’t change anything- I was still sad, I was still skipping meals and I knew that mentally I was not in a good place and it didn’t help that 6 months after the break up that spiraled all those negative feelings just announced he was getting married.  This went on for about a year, where I struggled with disordered eating and my body image - I met matt, at my thinnest and I maintained that as long as I could - fast forward to pregnancy (which turned out the be incredibly unhealthy) I was still  starving my body, its really the only pattern I knew and I continued to watch my weight,  I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with B, So I limited my calorie intake – But once I realized what I was doing I started eating smaller meals more often, then the portions became larger, and within a few weeks I went from not eating the foods I wanted to eating everything in sight.  I would over-eat…and then eat and then eat some more…and in 3 months I gained almost 40lbs (60lbs my total pregnancy), went borderline Diabetic and ended up having a premature birth at 7 months followed by my gallbladder being removed shortly after-  great experience, right!  

My mentality at that time was “Well my body is changing anyways, may as well enjoy it…”

Or “I’ve already gained this much weight, what’s another few pounds….”

WRONG, wrong, wrong WRONG - that is not a healthy mentality at all and again is a part of that self sabotaging culture that we as women live in.

I wasn’t surprised that 5 years later I still owned 95% of that “baby weight”, I knew I needed to get serious – I put blinders on when it came to my health I was overweight, I was lazy and I lacked motivation to work out and it wasn’t until about a year ago that I actually committed to something that worked for me… (did you catch that… “something that worked for me”, because everyone is different ) Anyways- It certainly didn’t happen overnight, and I had to overcome a lot of personal demons that ended up being bigger then just a negative body image - I had to get raw and admit that in some situations I was the toxic person – that I allowed my circumstances and for that I carried so much guilt. 

The point is! 

As human beings we need to learn to co-exsist with all of our demons whether its food, weight or body shape or even our mental health – we need to be as patient with ourselves as we are others, mindful of our own feelings, our own needs and we need to cultivate in them.  This is why this conversation is so important to me – why I choose to address certain things, why my social media is public- no one but me has the right to narrate my story and so the best I can do is live well,  without fear of judgment, comfortable in my skin, in my decisions 

- Although I am as open as I can be, I choose to be very conscious about what I post on social media (for a few reasons) - One is simple, my husband has to approve of the content being posted. Out of respect and love for that man who has supported me unconditionally throughout this process, regardless of being 1000% confident in my “now” body, he prefers some things to stay private (in which I totally agree) but the other is because there are people (no scratch that) women out there whose “dream body” is my “then” body –  and the words I use to describe how I felt in my own skin during that time can damage someone else’s perception of their dream body, it can become discouraging – But understand this, I know now that my body was actually never the problem. That additional weight I carried, was beautiful. I admit there have been things that I have been insecure about, yes but that was society making me believe that my body didn’t look right,  that was social media and marketing saying you are only worthy of real love at a 120lb and everything else is unlovable.  That was my own self sabotage that made me believe I wasn’t good enough as is and so I went to drastic measures to try and comply to what society told me beautiful should be and throughout this entire process I wish I would have told myself sooner that being a size 12 did not change my banging personality or my sense of humour and being a size 8 didn’t change my heart, or how I viewed the world and being a size 4 now doesn’t make me any better of a person then I was 10 years ago when I felt my worth was dictated by the number on the scale.  I have had to accept that not everyone will see “fit” the same way I do and unfortunately because I have decided to put my life on social media the way I do, I have opened a window for others to form that opinion of me, I have allowed them judge me, to be passive towards me or to even question my character and in some cases those opinions will be voiced but I welcome them and if by chance you are that person who wants to dim my light know this you can’t break me - I am 10000% comfortable and confident in who I am – Broken past, Belly fat, cellulite, saggy boobs and all (Lol)

I will end with this, I will not apologize for “showing off” as I have earned the right to – I will not apologize for over coming the two worst relationships I’ve ever had and will ever have in my life (food and my self worth) – I will not apologize for being my own version of fit even if it doesn’t align with yours and I certainly will not apologize for being who I am.

As far as I am concerned, as long as you are not harming others in any way, live unapologetically in all you do.  You don’t need validation from anyone or anything!

[chocoluckchipz]

Forbidden Love That Wasn’t - 3

< Previous                                                        Read on A03, FF.net. WattPad

Holding a travel mug of steaming coffee, Adrien shuffled rather than walked into the lobby of Gabriel the next morning. His eyes immediately locked on Marinette, standing at their regular spot, nervously peering in his general direction. Swallowing, Adrien tried his best to push the memories of yesterday and all the alluring images in his head aside. Instead, he focused on an equally enticing box in Marinette's hands. His mouth watered and as soon as Adrien approached, got greetings out of the way and received his sweets, he shamelessly bit into the first one he could reach.

“Bad night again?” Marinette asked, accepting her drink and instantly trying to sip from it.

“Something like that,” Adrien murmured and dug into the stash of macarons next. Thank goodness for the double portions Marinette kept bringing him despite Kagami never showing up at his work. For the sake of productivity, his girlfriend insisted on not disturbing him during the work hours. She texted him instead. Calls were reserved strictly for the time she knew he was free. Meeting in person was just as scheduled and never spontaneous.

“Want some?” Adrien offered Marinette a treat after noticing that in the short period they’ve spent together, she had already thrown him a few concerned side-glances. Today’s heap looked to be a quadruple of what he usually got. That was kind of greedy of him not to share.

“Thanks." Marinette accepted the cookie, entering the elevator. Once the door closed, she sighed. “Adrien?”

“Hm?”

“You shouldn’t stress yourself so much. Everything goes better than expected and if we work hard today, I predict a day off for you tomorrow.”

"Good." Adrien nodded, ignoring the curious looks of others around them as he licked the sugar off his fingers. "What about you?"

“I’d have to be at the venue to help set everything up.”

"Wait. Don't I have to be there too?”

“Only to see where the walk will take place but since it isn’t your first time, you should be fine missing it. And I suggest you take this opportunity to sleep in. You clearly need some extra shut-eye. Plus, I can always instruct you on the day of the show if you want.”

“Nah. I’ll be there tomorrow,” Adrien replied, exiting the elevator. When Marinette didn’t follow him, he added. “You coming?”

“I’ll be right there. Your father wants to see me first.”

“Alright.” Adrien waved and walked to their assigned room. To save time while waiting for Marinette, he switched on the lights and headed towards the racks to change into today’s clothes. However, reaching midway Adrien stopped. What if there was another photoshoot today? He distinctly remembered Nathalie saying that those won't stop unless Marinette learned whatever lesson his father wanted her to learn, and he knew better than anyone else about his father’s impossibly high standards. Perhaps, holding off on changing until Marinette came back and fill him in on the situation would be a better idea. Because if it came to that, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable with the prospect he was, Adrien would not hesitate to jump in and do however many photoshoots it would take to spare Marinette from Antonio’s filthy touch. For the sake of their friendship and Marinette’s dignity, he would do anything, even if that cost him more than he’d ever bargained for.

Apart from that, there was one other pestering thought that lingered at the back of Adrien's mind. It was irrational and stupid and totally uncalled for, and Adrien knew that, but couldn't help himself to wonder. For him, Marinette was a friend, yet after everything they'd been through yesterday, he couldn't stop thinking about her all night long. Of course, Adrien perfectly realized that it was just primitive, animalistic lust. He was, after all, a healthy, young and severely blue-balled man. He was also confident that it'd go away pretty soon. Multiple cold showers and a constant state of sleep-deprived exhaustion were sure to help with that, and as long as Adrien acted normally and didn't admit his feelings to anyone, he'd be just fine.

But Marinette- Marinette claimed to be in love with him and yet she behaved as if nothing had happened between them yesterday. Nothing. Zilch! Zero! Nil! That photoshoot didn't seem to bother Marinette at all. Adrien pouted. Yes, she blushed and looked mildly uncomfortable at the most intimate poses yesterday, but today she acted as that photoshoot had never happened and she never notice what she did to him all while mostly naked. Adrien couldn’t help but feel a little offended. Marinette's behaviour didn't make sense. He narrowed his eyes at the door. Maybe Nino was pulling his leg, and Marinette didn't love him the way Nino insisted she did?

The memories of Marinette’s tears back at that café arose in Adrien's mind, and he shook his head. No, he was wrong. Marinette- she probably was in love with him- but then- then how? How was she able to go through all of that and still appear the way she did?

His train of thought was cut short as the object of his predicament came into the room.

“M Agreste! I can't believe you!" she gasped. "Why aren't you changed yet? You better not be trying to avoid your work."

“My apologies,” Adrien bowed his head and grabbing his first outfit headed towards a change room. “I’ll correct my mistake right away, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

Quickly he put on the suit and returned to his place. There was much work to do, and his thoughts would have to wait. He had to focus and to give him due, Adrien did a somewhat outstanding job of it until about lunchtime; because while Marinette constantly kept herself busy, all Adrien could really do is to stand still and change outfits ever so often. A couple of times he left the room for a few minutes, but that was about it, and all this physical inactivity provoked mental work despite his resistance. Soon the thoughts of the photoshoot and lingerie and Marinette and him and the softness of her touch and the burning of her breath against his skin and their almost kiss and the night he barely slept… Before Adrien knew, he was crumbling under pressure, helpless to control himself again.

“Alright,” Marinette sighed an hour into their day. “What’s wrong, Adrien?”

“Nothing.” he gulped. “Nothing at all. Why would you think something is wrong? I’m just tired. Exhausted actually. You said it yourself- I need some extra sleep.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow and stood up from her position on the floor where she was fidgeting with the hem of his pants. She gently took his hand and pulled it away from his mouth,  wrapping it into hers. “Don’t chew on your nails. You’ll need them perfectly manicured for the show and the shoots.”

“Sorry,” Adrien bit into his lip instead. "I guess I'm also nervous? Just like you said. Barely on my feet tired and anxious.”

Marinette pressed her lips together before another sigh, only this time a little deeper, escaped. “Adrien. This isn’t you. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Adrien squeaked and averting his eyes, unconsciously tried to pull his hand back to his mouth. Marinette didn’t let him go.

“Alright. If you don't want to tell me, then I guess I will assume-" Marinette paused, her sight shifting to the floor before proceeding, "Tell me honestly, Adrien. Did I make you that uncomfortable during the shoot yesterday?”

“Nooooooo. Not at all.” Adrien used his other hand to rub his neck, stretching every sound so unnaturally that Marinette giggled.

"You are a terrible liar," she accused him before suddenly wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. Adrien stiffened, his breathing hitching in his chest, yet just a moment later he relaxed. The hug they shared now felt nothing like the ones they partook in yesterday. This embrace felt warm and pleasant and loving and tender and caring and affectionate and completely wonderful, all at the same time and none of it in a sexual way. Instead, as Marinette held him close, Adrien was experiencing something he hadn't felt for a long while; not since his mother passed away. Unconditional love and absolute acceptance. And as he wrapped his hands around Marinette as well, Adrien melted against her touch, unconsciously trying to cling to something he was missing so much.

"I'm sorry, I put my career above you, Adrien,” Marinette whispered. “I didn't mean to upset you but—" she suddenly pulled away, breaking the spell and pouted at him, “I thought Adrien Agreste the Great and Mighty Supermodel-Extraordinaire was a professional in his field. I mean I wasn't exactly in my comfort zone but aren’t you the one who was supposed to be used to those kinds of things?”

Adrien chuckled, not letting her go. "I'm not that good, Marinette, and I rarely do photoshoots that intimate and never with such gorgeous girls as yesterday.”

"Flirt." Marinette blushed and pulled away. "But you should've taken Nathalie's offer then. It's not like you absolutely had to do that.”

“No. Are you serious now?” Adrien puffed dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't tell me you wanted for Antonio to take my place? The Antonio I know? The one who has five girlfriends in three months and who knows how many mistresses at the same time?That one?”

"That doesn't mean he can't do his job properly," Marinette retorted.

Adrien narrowed his eyes at her and pouted, just the way he always did when they were being silly. “You don't love me,” he whined playfully.

"Of course, I do," she giggled, the slightest shade of pink descending on her cheeks. "That's why I'm saying you should've taken Nathalie's offer. If you've noticed, I wasn't given much of choice, but you were and if you felt that you'd be that traumatized-“

"Hey!" Adrien interrupted. "Let's not exaggerate here. I'm not traumatized.”

"Then what's with all the fidgeting, nail-biting, silence and averting your eyes all the time?”

“I—” Adrien had nothing, so puffing, he dropped his head down and finally confessed. “Okay. I admit - it was weird. I mean, you’re one of my closest friends and the things they made us do in those clothes- or better the lack of clothes- those things aren’t exactly friendly- so you know- it was really bizarre to be in those situations with you, but I am not traumatized. Just weirded out. Nothing to worry much about.”

He thought he saw Marinette flitch before she looked him straight into the eyes and said with the tiniest of the smiles and the slightest note of sadness in her voice. "I am sorry, Adrien. I should've noticed you weren't okay with that and done something about it, but I didn't. So I'm really, really sorry for being a bad friend. I hope you feel better soon, but for the future, you don't have to worry about things like that anymore. Those photoshoots won't happen again.” Quickly, Marinette fixed her clothes and hair back in place and picking up her tools, plopped back to the floor to continue her work.

For a second Adrien remained still, the heart in his chest beating irregularly fast as he mourned the loss of the warmth against his body. Then asked. “How do you know that?”

Marinette shrugged. “Your father told me in the morning that he liked yesterday’s pictures. Apparently, I learned what he wanted me to learn, and now I can ‘be assured that it won’t be happening again.' So—" her voice suddenly changed, filling with teasing and playfulness Adrien loved her so much for, “—stop fidgeting, you, big pouty baby, and let me finish my work.”

“Listening and obeying, Mom.” Adrien’s smile erupted into a laugh when Marinette frowned at him.

“If that’s a hint that I look old, then let me remind you that you are a couple months older than me."

“No, that’s not it at all,” Adrien chuckled. “You just-” He suddenly fell quiet. It was a stupid and irrational thought but-

“I am what?”

The smile on Adrien's face matched the bittersweetness of his voice. "You can make people feel better with just a hug and a few kind words. My mom could do that too."

Gently, Marinette touched his shoulder and said. “I’m so sorry, Adrien.”

“That’s fine,” he replied quietly. “It happened a long time ago.”

"It doesn't really matter, though, does it?" Marinette asked. "You lost your mother too early and too suddenly. That's never going to stop hurting."

Adrien remained silent for a few moments. Marinette was right - it still hurt, no matter how much he'd deny it. He didn't know if he would ever get over his mother's sudden passing but- He almost whispered. “I'm glad I have you to remind me of her.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Marinette nodded with a tiny smile on her lips and went back to her work. Adrien remained mostly silent, his thoughts racing each other. That’s why he loved Marinette’s company so much. She made him feel at home because she had the same gift his mother had. Of course! It didn't mean he was falling in love with her. Not at all. He was just craving that lost warmth he once had, that was ripped away from him so suddenly and so painfully. The way he felt yesterday was nothing more than a primitive instinct of a predatory male, reacting to a gorgeous female. Lust, if you want, but crude, fleshly desire didn't mean he was developing feelings of pure romantic love for his friend. There was nothing similar between the two. He had to just forget that yesterday had ever happened and instead focus on making his relationship with Kagami work.

Adrien's thoughts shifted to his girlfriend, and he unconsciously started to nibble on his lip again. The Fashion Week was almost here, and they would be announcing to the world that he was a taken man. Yet Adrien didn’t feel as easy about that as he thought he would be. The Tsurugi family was a big name internationally, and they, including Kagami, had high standards and expectations. He couldn't afford for anything to go any less than perfect, and despite Kagami's assuring him that everything would be fine, Adrien couldn’t help but be nervous. Extremely so. To the point where Adrien even wondered if he himself was up to those standards. Was Adrien good enough? Did he deserve to stand by Kagami’s side? She told him he was. Still, Adrien often felt that there always was something more he could’ve done and someone better he could’ve been.

The last day before the Fashion Week was pretty leisurely for Adrien compared to the previous days. He went to the venue to check out the walks and attend his final practice. Marinette had finished all of the work on his clothes the day before, so there were no more fittings for him. He scarily caught a glimpse of her managing the setups and clothes' racks locations but was hurried away by a text from Kagami. She wanted to meet for lunch. They needed to finalize their movements for the Fashion Week, and since Adrien's evening was already reserved for business dinner with his father and his potential new Chinese colleagues, lunch was the only possible time for that.

Kagami wanted for everything to be perfect. There were certain shows and appearances she wanted to make, particular journalists she was willing to be interviewed by and even specific restaurants she fancied to dine in. Adrien was trying to pay attention as much as he could, but somehow his thoughts would always rush back to the fact that he still hadn't confessed to Marinette that he knew. He felt he should because Marinette deserved to know. Yet the unexpected way she behaved this past week had derailed and confused him so much that despite thinking about it when they were apart, Adrien would backpedal the moment they meet, either doubting that Marinette loved him in the first place, or not knowing what to say and how to start, or being rendered speechless by either her unconditional love and acceptance or her newfound talent of seduction. There always was something that would stop him, but after all was said and done, Adrien knew that he had to tell her. He was convinced she'd want him to tell her. Maybe, he could do that after the Fashion Week? Neither of them could afford additional stress right now, so it was probably better to wait just a bit more. Adrien quietly nodded to himself and returned his attention to Kagami.

"I ordered us a dessert if you don't mind," she smiled at him. "You seemed to be distracted."

"That's fine. Thank you." Adrien smiled back and tried to concentrate again. This time he managed to last a little bit longer. A sure improvement, Adrien noticed. There! He was right after all – whatever this lusty, fleshly thing he caught at that photo shoot would soon be done with and forgotten.

Apart from his inner struggle, the luncheon passed quickly and mostly uneventfully. They made all the decisions that needed to be made. Well, mostly Kagami was deciding, and Adrien followed her lead, but that only made the perfect sense since Kagami alone knew best what would please her family's criteria. His father would be happy as long as Adrien showed up with a date and behaved appropriately. In an hour or so they were done, and his girlfriend rushed off to tick a few more things from her to-do list. Adrien, on the other hand, unexpectedly found himself with nothing to do. His father hadn't invited him to attend the business part of the meeting at the office, instead insisting that Adrien came straight to the restaurant. As of now, there were a few hours left until then. Weighing his options, Adrien headed home. Marinette's advice wasn't such a bad idea, and perhaps he could squeeze in a little nap. Gosh, he knew he needed one badly. He only hoped that none of the lewd dreams he kept having would bother him again.

Arriving on time, refreshed and somewhat rested, Adrien was immeasurably surprised to see only one person in the dining chamber that Gabriel reserved. A profoundly strange occurrence considering how little tolerance his father had when it came to punctuality, and since Gabriel and Nathalie were the ones bringing the guests from the office, Adrien involuntarily worried. Yet, as soon as the Host closed the door behind him but before Adrien could even greet the only other person present, his cell phone rang.

"Sorry. I have to take this," Adrien murmured and picked up, slowly walking towards the table.

“Adrien,” he heard Natalie’s voice on the other side. “Your Father apologizes for the inconvenience, but unbeknownst to us, our new partners had reserved a table at their preferred restaurant so we won’t be making our reservation.”

"Okay," Adrien responded. "Text me the address, and I'll try my best to be there as soon as possible."

“No need,” Nathalie objected. “You’ll be late in any case, and I doubt our guests would like that. Punctuality is just as an essential business quality for them as it is for your father, so consider your schedule cleared for today.”

“Wouldn’t they consider my absence even a worse offence?”

"We already dealt with that. Officially you and Mlle Dupain-Cheng are dealing with an emergency at the show venue."

“Alright,” Adrien sighed and settled into a chair. “Does Marinette know this?”

“I’ve just emailed her so if she checked her email she should. If not, then do me a favour and tell her. I have to go now. Good evening, Adrien.”

“Evening, Nathalie.” Adrien turned his cell phone off and waved. “Hi.”

For a short while, Marinette looked a bit surprised as she blinked at him. Then she smiled. “Can you tell me why I didn't expect you of all people to be here?”

Adrien chuckled. “Maybe because you look like you are running on autopilot right now? Father sure works you into the ground.”

“I do need some sleep." Marinette nodded. “Soon.”

“Please,” Adrien replied and cocked his head to the side. Marinette could see mischief surfacing in his eyes. "Seriously, though, I'm the one and only heir to the Agreste empire, a must-have at any business meeting concerning the brand. How could you not expect to see me here?"

“Because maybe,” Marinette giggled, “As Gabriel Agreste's personal slave, I was too tired to think about anything much but my new lesson.”

“New lesson?”

Marinette sighed. “The business side of the fashion industry. Your father promised it would be worth my while.”

Adrien breathed out with relief and smiled. “Business meetings aren't that bad. Mostly boring. But you joke about being a slave so often, I might soon start to believe my father actually did take away your freedom with that contract.”

“More or less,” Marinette shrugged her shoulders. “But even so, that’s something I willingly walked into. If one of the biggest fashion icons of the era offers me a unique opportunity to become his protégé, I’d be a fool to refuse.”

“I wonder, though, have you ever considered that he might be asking a little bit too much of you?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “I don’t think so? I mean, it would've been hard work at any company, but at least your father doesn't intrude into my personal life, apart from a few random requests like this dinner. Once my work is done, I’m pretty much free for the rest of the day.”

Adrien raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And how many hours a day is that, exactly?”

Marinette placed her arms on the table and threading her fingers together laid her chin on top. “Just enough for a quick workout, a meal and some sleep, M Agreste. Anything else, you’d like to know?”

“Sorry,” Adrien chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “In return for my nosiness, I'd be pleased to inform you that you've been granted amnesty for today. Our Chinese colleagues prefer their own food and, unfortunately, the finest of French cuisine will stay unexplored tonight. Father sends his apologies.”

“Such a shame,” Marinette chuckled. “They are missing out.”

“Completely agree.”

“Why aren’t you there, though?”

“Got stood up just like you,” Adrien grumbled fakely. “So hurt. Much betrayal. Unmeasurably upset. Totally never happened before.”

“Dork.” Marinette snickered. “But I kind of glad it happened. I do need some sleep. Badly. As do you.”

Adrien’s lips stretched into the widest of grins she’d ever seen on him as he almost purred. “I took a nap before coming here.”

“Lucky,” Marinette sighed and picked up her clutch. “I didn’t so if you don’t mind, I’ll be off.”

She was about to stand up when a thought came to Adrien. “Hey, Marinette? Apart from sleep, do you have anything else planned for tonight?”

“No, but don't call it just sleep,” she smirked. “It sounds so simplistic and dull. I call it a hot date with my sweet, sweet pillow.”

“That sounds quite alluring,” Adrien chuckled and reached out and took one of Marinette's hands in his. “But do you think your sweet, sweet pillow would be very disappointed if I asked you—" he slowly brought her palm to his lips. "—to join me for dinner tonight?”

The crimson colour of Marinette's cheeks and her bewildered expression were adorable, and as Adrien softly kissed the knuckles of her hand, he smiled satisfactorily to himself. He was really growing fond of that shade of pink. It looked good on Marinette. Seeing her hesitation, he prompted further. “Come on, Mari. We’ve both worked hard, and fate itself has rewarded us with an opportunity to relax and celebrate. I think we deserve that, don't you? The food here is amazing, and usually, you'd have to wait for weeks to get a table. Plus, tonight the company pays, and it'd be a shame to let all of our preparations and your gorgeous dress go to waste.”

For a few more short moments, Marinette silently stared at Adrien, the reddish tint to her face continuously deepening, instead of clasping it more tightly in his. She scanned their table that could sit at least twelve people and said. “I don't know, Adrien. The table looks kind of big for just the two of us. It’d look weird.”

“Mari, we are the only people in this room so even if it would be no one apart from waiters would see, and they've seen way weirder things, believe me,” Adrien said and suddenly beamed. “But just imagine - I'll sit on one end and you on the other, and we'll be like the Beauty and the Beast, shouting jokes to each other across the table.”

Marinette chuckled, not surprised at all, being perfectly aware of Adrien's fondness for Disney movies. After anime, of course. “Knowing you, I presume you’ll be the Beauty?”

Adrien gasped and clasped his hand to his mouth, finally letting her go. “Are you implying that I am a big hairy monster only because I am a male? Rude!”

“Well I am no beast either,” Marinette pouted.

Adrien leaned back into his chair. “I dare to disagree, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. You are a force to be reckoned with in a lot of areas. A beast doesn't always have to be literally a big, scary animal. It can also mean a strong and powerful individual.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him and pouted even more. “I can see right through your sweet talk, M Agreste. That's just an excuse to claim The Beauty title because you think you are so pretty.”

Adrien laughed. His sight fell on the vase on the table and reaching over he pulled one of the flowers out. “Of the two of us—” he locked his eyes on Marinette and offered her a flower, a small smile tugging at his lips. “—The Beauty is undoubtedly you. I, unfortunately, cannot claim that title when you are in the room.”

Marinette blushed and hesitantly took the rose. Twirling it in her hands, she asked, “Who are you then?”

“Didn’t you know?” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows and proclaimed, “I ama handsome beast.”

Marinette blankly stared at him for a split moment, but with another wiggle of his eyebrows she snorted and erupted into a fit of giggles, threatening to explode into a full-blown laugh at any moment. “You are ridiculous,” she finally managed to say. “And here I was hoping you knew that you were so much more than just a pretty face, Adrien Agreste. Otherwise, I'd call you Gaston.”

“Ewww! No!” Adrien scrunched his nose. “Don’t compare me to him. I never said I was Gaston.”

“But why not? He is a handsome beast as well-”

“Excuse me?” Someone cleared the throat right between them. The pair almost jumped in their places. In their silly banter neither noticed when the door had opened and a waiter had entered the room. “I apologize for the interruption,” he said. “But we were wondering if you will be ordering a meal or cancelling the reservation?"

Adrien glanced at Marinette with a question. She nervously bit into her lower lip and quietly asked him, “Wouldn't you rather go see Kagami?”

“Kagami has dinner with her mother today.”

“I'm sure they'd love to see you.”

“Marinette,” Adrien smiled and put his hand on hers. “Kagami and I will have the entire Fashion Week to spend together and to be honest, I get a feeling that her mother doesn’t like me very much. Not yet at least. Ugh,” he groaned. “She is kind of hard to read, but I don't want to risk it by showing up uninvited. It isn’t considered polite,” he mocked and almost begged. “Come on, Mari. Save me from a lonely evening. We’ve achieved so much this week. Why not celebrate it?”

The hesitation in Marinette's eyes was melting with each word, and when Adrien finished, she smiled back at him and nodded. “You're right. Let's celebrate. We did deserve it.”

“Bring us the menu, please,” Adrien said to the waiter, his eyes still lingering on Marinette, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Tonight, we are celebrating hard work and the best friendship around, right?”

“Of course,” Marinette smiled back, soft and gentle, not a trace of sadness present. Not even a hint and just for a moment Adrien thought that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright and he could remain friends with Marinette while dating Kagami. He wouldn't have to lose her. There. He admitted it. He was terrified to tell her because it would surely change things between them and he didn't want that. He needed Marinette in his life. There weren't many people like her around, and he couldn't afford to lose the only one he knew.

Adrien bit into his lip as he observed Marinette intently reading the menu. As far as he knew, Marinette and the others still thought he dated Kagami because he was in love with her. Adrien planned to reveal the whole deal, including his father's demands and his own resolutions during his initial confession, but due to an untimely interruption, Adrien never had. Then, he was too busy and quite frankly didn't have the heart to admit it to anyone. Therefore, Marinette most likely had thought that he romantically loved Kagami. Yet she was able to remain friendly with him this whole time, never once hinting at her own feelings or making him feel any less of a friend than he ever was. Adrien beamed. It could be done! They could remain best friends after all! Of course, he'd still need to get that awkward talk out of the way after the Fashion Week, but then- then everything would certainly settle back into its rightful place. A sigh of relief slipped from his lips as he smiled to himself and directed his own gaze to the menu. He'd be extra friendly with Marinette. For being such an awesome person and a great, understanding friend she deserved nothing less but the best and would make sure she was treated the best way possible.

Next >

[ranwing]

Kadam Fic: Learning to Fly (7/?)

Title: Learning to Fly Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Elliot “Starchild” Gilbert, Dani, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 7/? Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.  

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

On AOE

There was something oddly comforting about waking up at his old home. In his old bed, Kurt considered as he slowly came awake. It helped ease the feeling of displacement and feeling totally adrift in the world. The home that he’d shared with Adam no longer existed and his lover was no longer close at hand to reassure him that everything was going to be all right. For someone who’d always prided himself on being so self-sufficient, this sense of vulnerability was extremely disquieting.

He and Adam had spoken on the phone the previous night for what seemed like hours. The Englishman was settled into the hotel room he was sharing with Nialls and told Kurt about how interesting Boston was and that he and the others in the cast planned to spend a day or two sightseeing before they went into tech and all of their free time vanished. He was glad that Kurt was taking a bit of time to spend with his family before the school term began.

It’ll be good for you, sweetheart, the older man had insisted when Kurt had first proposed his plans to visit while his father was home on winter recess. I don’t want you to be alone right now.

Better to crawl home to lick his wounds than hide away in his dorm room in a nearly empty school, Kurt thought petulantly as he curled up under the heavy layer of blankets that provided a warm nest and pulled a pillow to his chest. He would be content to hide there for the duration of his visit.

A knock on his bedroom door roused his unwilling attention. All he wanted to do was huddle under the blankets like he did when he was a child and the outside world became just too much to bear.

“Kurt?” he heard his father’s voice call out gently. “You awake, buddy?”

Despite himself, he sat up and emerged from the covered.  He didn’t want to worry his father unnecessarily. “Yeah..,” he answered, his voice sounding wan even to his own ears.

His father opened the door and peeked in to make sure that Kurt was decent before coming in and sighed when he saw that he was still in bed. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “How are you holding up?” he asked gently, sitting down on the edge of Kurt’s bed.

Kurt shrugged, feeling too mentally and physically tired to feign otherwise.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

Kurt shook his head. “Not really,” he admitted, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good to lie. His father would know from the dark circles under his eyes that he’d been tossing and turning most of the night.

Burt sighed in sympathy. “I know that telling you that everything is going to work out isn’t going to make you feel at all better, so I’m not going to try,” he said. “But you can’t hide away from the world the whole time Adam is away. And you’re going to have to get your head back on straight before you head back to school. Adam wouldn’t appreciate you letting your grades slide because you miss him.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling a tiny bit at his father’s blunt form of comfort. It was kind of gentle kick in the pants that he needed.

“I know,” he granted. “I just need to feel sorry for myself for a little while.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed under the circumstances,” Burt granted. “But not too long. Got that?”

Kurt nodded, inhaling deeply. He knew that however much he wanted to wallow, his own nature would push him to push past his pain and shift his focus on his education. But right now, he just hurt.

“Why don’t you get dressed and come downstairs,” Burt suggested, though there was just the slight edge of command in his tone. “Carole’s making breakfast. Just between you and me, I think that she’s looking forward to feeding you up while you’re here.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling. His stepmother apparently missed having boys around to take care of and he could look forward to plenty of home cooking and hearty meals during his visit. He’d have to make sure that he went running every day if the weather permitted, otherwise he’s probably gain twenty pounds before he returned to New York.

“I’ll be down in just a little bit,” Kurt assured his father. “I just need… Let me just wash up.” He needed a bit of space to get his mental feet under him.

“You got it, sport. Better get a move on while there’s food left,” Burt said, pleased that he at least was able to get Kurt out of bed. He ruffled Kurt’s hair playfully, hoping to coax another smile out of him before leaving his son to make himself suitably human.

“Don’t eat all the bacon before I get there,” Kurt called out, hearing his father chuckle at the not-so-playful admonishment. His father did still need to watch his diet and now that he was home for a little bit, Kurt was going to remind him of his dietary restrictions.

He arrived in the kitchen about fifteen minutes later, his face washed and teeth brushed, a soft robe wrapped comfortingly about his body. The warm scents of coffee and cinnamon greeted him and he went right for the coffee pot to pour himself a mug. The kitchen table was already set with plates and a bowl of fresh fruit salad.

Carole was standing at the counter in front of an electric skillet, turning over the pancakes she was cooking. At seeing Kurt, she placed down her spatula and pulled him into a warm embrace. “Good morning, sweetie,” she greeted gently, seeing immediately that he wasn’t his usual chipper self. “How are you feeling?”

He wasn’t going to lie to her. This was the one place where he felt that he could let down his shields and admit how much he was hurting. “Not so good. I didn’t sleep much and… I miss Adam.”

Carole smiled understandably and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s forehead. “I know you do, honey. But he’ll be back before you know it. And I’m sure that he misses you just as much,” she insisted kindly.

Kurt felt himself smiling a little sadly. “I know he does,” he granted. “It just hurts… being away from him like this.”

Carole hugged him again. “Why don’t you sit down? Breakfast is almost ready. You’ll feel better after you get some food into you.”

His stepmother’s cooking skills hadn’t deteriorated since he was home the last time, Kurt noted. And while she had prepared what she’s hoped would be comfort food for her stepson, she did it with a nod towards Kurt’s normal eating habits and her husband’s health. The pancakes were whole wheat, studded liberally with blueberries and accompanied by a plate of turkey bacon.

“This looks great, Carole,” Kurt complimented, feeling his appetite start to kindle. He took two pancakes and some fruit onto his plate, along with several strips of bacon. After pouring a healthy amount of syrup onto his pancakes, he took a bite and made an appreciative moan. “I missed your cooking.”

His stepmother smiled broadly as she served herself. “Well, if you came to visit every now and then, or came down to Washington while we’re there...,” she hinted playfully,

“Carole, let the boy be,” Burt admonished gently, chuckling at her teasing. “He’s got school and work to worry about.”

“Thanks Dad,” Kurt grinned and nibbled on a piece of bacon.

Carole huffed with mock indignance, but offered her stepson a tolerant smile. “Well, I’ll just have to send a few extra care packages your way. Especially since you’re going to be living on dorm food for the duration.”

“I won’t say no,” Kurt said agreeably, sipping at his coffee. While the dorm cafeteria kept the eating habits of their student body in mind with lots of healthy options, he was sure that it would get boring after a while. Between Carole and Ellie Crawford, he’d be the envy of all the dorm residents.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Burt asked, looking at his son pointedly. It was clear that he did not want to see Kurt moping around the house, feeling sorry for himself during the whole duration of his visit.

Kurt sighed, knowing that he needed to find something to occupy himself with besides quality family time. Thankfully McKinley High School was out for winter break, so he wouldn’t be tempted to pop in on New Directions. He’d made some tentative plans to meet up with Tina and Artie while they were all home, but he really need to find something to occupy himself with. And at the moment, he needed something to clear his head.

“I thought I’d head over to the garage this morning,” he proposed. “I kind of want something to tear apart and put back together again. I’m sure they’ve got something I can get my hands into.”

Burt nodded approvingly. “That sounds like a great idea,” he agreed. “I was going to stop by later on, but I’m sure the guys won’t mind you going in to help out.”

Having a goal now perked Kurt’s spirits up a bit. “I figured that some of the guys might be taking some time off for the holidays and they might need some help. And it’ll feel good to get my hands dirty for a little bit.”

Carole chuckled brightly at Kurt’s apparent enthusiasm. “It’ll also give you an excuse to treat yourself to a manicure,” she teased.

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing a little bit. “Well, I do have to keep myself in good condition,” he advised. Oil under his fingernails and obvious calluses would not help his employment options as audiences liked their actors to be pretty.

After finishing breakfast and helping to clean up, Kurt returned to his room to find something suitable to wear to the garage. He was sure that he had a set of coveralls in the back, but he didn’t want to risk any of his good clothes with stains that he knew from experience would never come out. He found an old pair of jeans in the back of his closet and pulled them on, wondering if they still fit.

They were a bit short since he’d bought them before his last growth spurt and a little snug about his thighs, but he definitely needed a belt because they were loose in the waist. Squatting a few times, he thought that they’d be comfortable enough to work in. Topped with an old henley that stretched across his shoulders, he realized just how much he’d changed since leaving for New York. The physical changes were just as profound as his mental and emotional ones, and he felt a certain amount of gratification that he was so far from the boy he’d been just a few years ago. He liked who and what he’d become.

Tugging on an old pair of Doc Martins, he headed downstairs. His father and Carole were lingering over another cup of coffee and talking quietly when he entered the kitchen. “Dad, I’m going to head over to the garage now.”

“Okay, sport. Tell the guys that I’ll by a later this afternoon,” Burt advised, sipping at his coffee. “Have fun destroying something.”

Kurt grinned and gave them a quick wave before bundling up to face the bitter Ohio winter. The drive to the garage went quickly, the route permanently imbedded in Kurt’s memory and he parked behind the building in the employee area. Dodging slush puddles and snow piles, he walked into the garage area where several of the mechanics were already at work.

The manager spotted Kurt as he entered and exclaimed happily, “Kurt! We were hoping you’d stop by!” Bill hurried over to hug the younger man warmly.

“Hey Bill. Good to see you,” Kurt greeted, smiling at the man who’d been mentor and baby sitter for a good portion of his childhood. He accepted the hug, feeling a sense of comfort to be around friendly faces and a familiar setting.

The other mechanics came over to offer their own welcome, glad to see Kurt. Greg leaned against the Ford SUV that he was working on and looked to him expectantly. “Your dad warned that you were in town for a little while,” he said, wiping his dirty hands on a rag.

Kurt nodded, letting himself relax a bit. “I’m on winter break and Adam had to go out of town for work so I thought I’d come home for a little bit.”

“And you’re doing well in school?” Bill asked, making his near-parental concern clear.

Kurt thought back to his winter critiques and let himself nod confidently. “It’s hard work, but I’m doing okay. We’ve got a big musical this spring and I got cast as an understudy for one of the major roles.”

“That’s great, kid,” Greg complimented. The mechanics might not know all that much about musical theater but they knew enough to understand that being cast as an understudy at this stage was no small thing.

“I was kind of hoping to get my hands into something,” Kurt explained, looking about the garage. “I need a little automotive therapy.”

Bill nodded understandingly. “I think there’s a set of your old coveralls are in the back room,” he offered. “Go get changed and I’ll see what we’ve got around for you to play with.”

Kurt smiled appreciative and headed to the staff room. Pulling on the heavy cotton material felt comforting in its own strange way and he marveled that he could still be as comfortable in an oil stained jumpsuit as he could in the most elegant couture fashion. Adam would just smile and say that it was an example of how complex a person he was.

Thoughts of his boyfriend dimmed his smile a bit. He really needed to get his hands on an engine and start taking it apart so he could clear his head a little bit.

Returning to the work area, Bill pointed him in the direction of an Audi that had clearly been on the wrong end of a significant accident. The whole front end was crunched in and the airbag had been inflated, warning that the impact had been substantial. Hopefully the driver was not seriously injured.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Kurt cooed sympathetically to the car, running his hand over a crushed bumper. It was an absolutely crime for such a beautiful vehicle to be in such sorry condition. “What happened to you?”

“This just came in yesterday,” Bill explained, amused at how Kurt always treated damaged cars like he would a wounded kitten. “Got into a fight with a lamp post after skidding on some ice and I think the lamp post won. Think you can you get started on the diagnostic so it can be submitted to the insurance?”

Kurt nodded, feeling his mood start to improve. This was exactly the kind of thing he needed. Rolling up his sleeves, he pulled a tool cart over to where the damaged car sat and carefully popped open the hood to get a look at the engine and see what needed to be done.

Running the diagnostics gave Kurt something to focus on, taking his mind away from his loneliness. He had to pay attention to what the instruments were telling him and what his own eyes were seeing. This was the part of working with cars that he’d always found the most interesting; trying to figure out just what was wrong and how to fix it in a way that was economical for the customer. It was like working out a large, greasy puzzle and he’d always been pretty good at it.

He took his time, going over the entire car and made careful notes of all the things that were wrong and needed immediate repair. There was a good crack in the radiator that he wasn’t sure could just be repaired and might need a complete replacement. Several hoses were torn or pulled loose, but those were easy fixes. One of the engine mounts was missing and definitely would need to be replaced, otherwise the owner would hit a bump and end up with the engine in his lap.

The rest of the engine seemed okay, he needed to check out the undercarriage and make sure there was no other damage. Getting a creeper board and hanging light, he lay down and slid under the car to see what was going on.

Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any damage to the major structures and while the repairs would be considerable, the owner was lucky that the car wouldn’t have to be junked. Sliding out from unde the car, he wiped off his hands and wrote up the report to be submitted to the owner’s insurance.

There were other jobs on the list that he took over to give the guys a little breathing room. It felt good to do simple tasks like oil changes and brake jobs where he got a bit dirty but was able to keep his head clear. Focusing on the tools in his hands and the machinery in front of him prevented him from dwelling too much on the other things in his life. Here there were no worries about the pressures of school or the loneliness of Adam being away. One of the guys turned on a radio and Kurt found himself humming along with the classic rock tunes, dancing a bit as he worked.

“I don’t hear any singing,” Greg complained from his station, where he was elbows deep in the engine of a Dodge Charger. “What do we have to do around here to get some entertainment?”

Bill laughed, giving Kurt a playful nudge. “Come on, kid,” he urged. “Give us a little show while we still can afford to see you.”

Kurt couldn’t help from grinning at their urging. They’d always been so supportive of him when he was growing up, despite the fact that he couldn’t be more different from them. When he came out, it was probably not much more of a surprise to them as it had been for his father and they never treated him any differently. The teasing was good natured and affectionate and he would always have a place here, no matter where life took him.

“Oh, Mama, I’m in fear for my life from the long arm of the law,” he began, using the lower end of his register. He was standing underneath a classic Chevy, draining the old oil into a disposal pail. He could certainly sing while he worked and gave his father’s employees the show that they wanted.

Kurt left the garage a few hours later after having lunch with the guys and returned home to clean up. He was feeling a bit better about things now that he had a chance to clear his head a little bit. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink with a bar of abrasive soap that his father kept there to scrub the stains off his hands, using a nail brush to get the grime out from under his fingernails. He would need to seriously moisturize his hands afterwards because the soap was so harsh on his skin, but by the time he was done, his hands were in pristine condition. A quick shower and a change of clothes left him fit to face the world again.

Coffee, he decided. He needed coffee and something sweet. It had been over a year since he last went to the Lima Bean and hoped that they were still serving the gingerbread loaf cake that he’d always loved. With a vanilla latte. That would be just the kind of pick-me-up he needed.

Driving to the café, he slipped back into instinct. He knew the way like the back of his hand, having followed the path hundreds of times before leaving this town for good. It still felt a bit strange that he was now starting to see Lima through a visitor’s eyes and not that of boy desperate to leave. Now he was more aware of the charms of the town and less focused on its obvious shortcomings. The feeling of nostalgia was almost pleasant.

The Lima Bean seemed much the same as it ever was; brightly lit and clean, the display cases filled with appetizing treats and smiling baristas preparing drinks. For a moment when he walked through the doors he felt a flash of the panic he’d felt when he’d worn one of those aprons. He’d lived in absolute anguish, fearful that he was doomed to spend his life trapped in Lima and working here because he didn’t have any other options. It had just been something to do that filled his days until he managed to find the courage in him to take the plunge and leave nearly everything and everyone that he knew in order to chase his dreams.

Going to New York without a place or plan had been terrifying, but less frightening than being stuck behind that counter with a fake smile pasted on his face so that the customers would never know that he was screaming inside. Thankfully he had escaped this trap and now felt that could walk in with his head held proudly. He wondered if the day would come when he no longer saw his hometown as a place just waiting to snare him and drag him back.

He was still seeking the balance, Kurt realized as he pulled himself mentally together. He didn’t have many fantastic memories of life in Lima, so coming back home was still hard in a lot of ways. But he had family here and it would always be a part of him no matter where his career took him in the future. Be it a Broadway stage or touring the country the way Adam was, Lima would always be a huge part of his past. It helped make him who he was.

Looking over the offerings in the case, he was torn between the gingerbread that he’d been craving and an absolutely scrumptious looking cranberry scone. He couldn’t afford to eat both, not with the way Carole was going to be stuffing him the whole time he was home. There was no way he would dare show up back at school having gained an ounce because Ms. July would certainly notice and make him suffer the consequences. One treat only.

He ordered the gingerbread since he could get scones back in New York anytime he wanted, along with the much-needed latte. The café was pretty full with the afternoon rush and there didn’t seem to be empty tables. Maybe he could find someone who would be willing to share so he could enjoy his afternoon snack.

He smiled to himself when he saw a tall blond woman sitting at the table in the back reading a magazine while nursing a large coffee that Kurt knew from past history would be black with no fewer than five packets of sugar.

Taking his plate and cup, he walked over to the table. “Mind if I join you?” he asked to get her attention.

She looked up at him with a sharp-eyed glare and prepared to launch what was probably a viciously worded refusal that would have left him gathering up his own entrails when she realized who was standing there. Her blue eyes widened in shock and, Kurt suspected, pleasure.

“Porcelain,” Coach Sylvester said softly, very clearly surprised by his presence. Her mouth drew into a wide smile. “Sit that tight little tush down right now.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling at the command in her voice. He placed his food down and took the chair opposite her. “It’s good to see you, Coach. Even if you are out of uniform.” It felt odd to see her dressed in anything other than her customary track suit.

“I’m off duty right now, and I’m not your coach anymore,” she reminded him playfully. “You can call me Sue if you want.”

Kurt recognized this for the honor that it was. There were moments when he felt like he was one of the few students that she’d not only genuinely liked, but respected in some way.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked. “I would have thought that the only way you’d ever come back to this town would be dragged kicking and screaming. You were already halfway out the door during your sophomore year.”

Kurt was reminded that for all her cutting comments and bizarre behavior, Sue had been one of his chief supporters while he was in high school. He’d never forgotten the lengths that she went through to protect him during the worst of the bullying he’d suffered and he knew that she’d been very upset during her stint as principal that she hadn’t been able to do more. Even after he gave up being a Cheerio, he remained one of her chosen few.

“Just here for a little while on winter break,” he explained. “I start classes again in a few weeks so I thought I’d enjoy a little family time. Dad’s home on recess, so it seemed like a perfect time.”

She nodded understandingly. If there was anyone who appreciated the need for family, it was Sue. “And that gorgeous hunk of English beefcake that looked like he’d follow you to the ends of the earth?”

Kurt couldn’t help from sighing. “He graduated last June and he got cast in a show that’s doing a national tour,” he explained. “We’re going to be doing the long-distance thing for a couple of months.”

His former coach gave him a sympathetic stare. “Well, if he gives you any problems, you let me know. I have several highly skilled and very discreet assassins on retainer if you need a referral.”

Kurt could only stare at her in surprise, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her and he realized that she was joking a little bit. He couldn’t help from laughing. He’d long suspected that Sue’s outrageous behavior at school was something of an act, but this confirmed it for him.

At least, he hoped that it did.

He nodded his head at the magazine, seeing an overly perky cheerleader photographed in mid-leap on the cover. “Professional research?” he asked, not hiding his amusement. “I assume that you’re going to be gearing up for Nationals when school restarts, right?”

She chuckled, nodding. “Just getting a sense of what some of the other teams may have in mind,” she explained. “You know, considering what a few of them tried last year trying to outdo me, my plan to shoot Brittany from a cannon wasn’t that insane.”

“Well, you were always a trail blazer,” Kurt reminded her, taking a taste of his gingerbread. It tasted just the way he remembered, the bite of ginger and cloves perfectly tempered by the creamy glaze.

“I don’t think we ever did so well as when we had you on the team. Your Celine Dion solo was a total showstopper that no one has been able to match,” she reminisced fondly. “What I wouldn’t give to have you back and doing a ten-minute Italian aria while doing a perfect handstand at the top of the formation.” She sighed happily at the concept.

“How NYADA is treating you? I’m assuming that you’re doing well there.”

Kurt smiled. “It’s good,” he insisted. “I’m learning a lot and we’re doing this huge musical in the spring. It’s a pretty amazing place.”

“And you’re looking awfully fit,” she noted admiringly.  “It’s a shame I can’t steal you back for the team.”

Kurt couldn’t help from feeling flattered at her appraisal. “I run now pretty regularly and I’ve been doing a lot of upper body work. And I’ve got dance three times a week with a teacher that I would love to run a DNA test on, because there is no way that she’s not related to you in some way.”

“And she’s going to let you get away with eating that?” Sue asked archly, pointing to Kurt’s cake. “Because I would have had you doing jumping jacks until your limbs came flying off.”

“I usually burn it off pretty quickly because I’m so active, and I’m keeping up on my physical regimen while I’m here,” he assured her. “Ms. July will personally cut off any flab she sees with a letter opener so I need to take care of myself. My body is one of my instruments, after all.”

Sue nodded approvingly. “Well, whatever you’re doing, the results are certainly impressive,” she complimented, eyeing the breadth of his shoulders appreciatively. “You look like you could probably toss any of our fliers one handed now.”

Knowing how rarely Sue gave unvarnished approval gave Kurt a sense of pride at her positive appraisal. “We did a lot of pairs work in dance the past semester and I wasn’t always matched with the lightest girl,” he admitted. “Missing a lift always ends up with Ms. July bitching us out in the middle of class and no one wants that. And I’m taking stage combat this semester so I really need to be in good shape.”

“Now that is something I would look forward to seeing you do,” Sue chuckled, mentally picturing him wielding a sword and slicing through the bullies that had tormented him when he was younger. She paused to look at him, her eyes softening in a way that Kurt rarely remembered her showing to anyone other than her sister.

“Oh Porcelain… I’m glad to see you doing so well,” Sue claimed with clear sincerity. “I never doubted that you’d manage to find your way out of Lima. I think that you would have crawled out of here on your hands and knees if that’s what it took. If only to spite anyone who ever tried to make you feel like nothing.”

Kurt nodded, knowing that there was more than a grain of truth there. All the times he’d ended up atop a pile of trash in a dumpster, the times when he did laundry as soon as he got home from school so that his father wouldn’t see the stains from food being thrown at him or the time when he spent several weeks’ worth of allowance money to buy a designer sweater to replace the one that his father had given him as a gift and ended up destroyed… it had all been fuel to Kurt’s determination to escape Lima.

“And that was something I always appreciated about you,” she explained. “You didn’t need anyone carrying your ass the way Berry did. I mean, Schuster all but ferried her to New York on his back.”

Kurt winced a bit internally, not liking to hear the harsh reminder of how unfair an advantage Rachel had back then and not surprised that Sue still had a rather unforgiving opinion about his friend, but she hadn’t seen how Rachel had matured since coming to New York. His friend had a better understanding of her own flaws and Rachel was constantly striving to prove to Kurt that she could be the kind of friend that she wanted to be. He hoped that in time others might see that shift.

“I’ve run into your father a few times, when he’s in town,” Sue confessed. “I always liked Burt. He’s always talking about how well you’re doing, which is the best ‘screw you’ to everyone in this town that looked down on you. He mentioned that you were in some plays this past summer. I would have liked to have seen that.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt answered softly, surprised at her statement. “I didn’t even think…”

“It’s okay. I’ll forgive the lapse this one time,” Sue assured him, a touch of teasing in her voice. “I checked out some videos on line and your dad gave me a program for the Cheerio display at McKinley. You’re definitely turning out to be one of our prouder legacies.”

Kurt wouldn’t put it past Sue to wanting to brag about him, setting up the constant reminder that someone who she had personally chosen had been mocked and put down so harshly was now succeeding. It didn’t matter that he’d only been on the squad for a few months. In Sue Sylvester’s eyes, no one ever stopped being a Cheerio once they donned the uniform.

“And next time you’re in a show, I expect that you will tell me and have a ticket for me,” she said warningly, a familiar spark that bordered on madness in her eyes. “Because if you don’t, I will personally carve out your right kidney with a grapefruit spoon and sell it on the black market to compensate my hurt feelings. Am I clear?”

He couldn’t help from laughing a bit. “Yes. I promise,” he assured her.

“Good, because I don’t think your boyfriend will be happy to be visiting you in the dialysis unit,” Sue warned playfully.

Kurt’s phone beeped for his attention and he quickly checked it in case it was something important. “Speak of the devil,” he pronounced at seeing that it was a message from Adam.

Sue smiled, amused at the way Kurt’s expression brightened at just receiving a text from his lover. It gratified her that her protégé had found someone worthy of him. “What does he have to say?” she asked, chuckling to herself at the starry-eyed look on Kurt’s face.

Kurt opened up the message and immediately started to laugh. He pressed his hand over his mouth to keep from disturbing the entire café. Adam had texted a photo of him and Nialls at what looked like Boston Commons, both of them with their hands raised in surrender because a man dressed in a colonial military uniform was guarding them at musket point. Adam had added a quick caption, Bad day to be a Brit in Boston.

Kurt handed Sue his phone and watched as she chuckled at Adam’s silly antics, but not in a way that felt like his boyfriend was being mocked.

“I’m glad that you found someone more on your level,” she insisted, handing him back his phone. “He looks like he can keep up with you.”

Kurt nodded. “I’m very happy with him,” he stated confidently.

“Good. I’m glad about that. Otherwise I’d have to take steps,” Sue warned with apparent seriousness. “I have friends in several government agencies that could have him shipped back to England before he could finish his tea.”

“Well, as much as I appreciate the gesture, that won’t be necessary,” Kurt chuckled. “He treats me like absolute royalty and besides… he can’t be deported.”

“Oh?” Sue questioned, one thin eyebrow rising in query.

Kurt couldn’t help from grinning, knowing that he was going to be surprising her. “He’s got dual citizenship,” he boasted, popping the last bit of gingerbread into his mouth.

Sue cocked her head, the surprise apparent in her expression. “Does he now? Well… that does raise my opinion of him a bit.”

“He’s not Blaine,” he assured his former coach. “Not by the furthest stretch of the imagination.”

She nodded evenly, her eyes softening. “That’s good, because if I had any inclination that he was anything at all like that weaselly Muppet that you foolishly allowed yourself to become enamored with, I’d have to arrange for your immediate kidnapping and deprogramming. I know people at Langley that excel in such matters, but I suppose that would put a crimp in your Broadway career aspirations,” she mused.

Kurt laughed at her outlandish threat, accepting that at least the sentiment was sincere. “I think that it would, so I’ll avoid doing anything to warrant such drastic actions,” he promised.

Sue laughed riotously and got a few stares turned in her direction, but she clearly didn’t care about anyone looking. She gazed at him adoringly, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Oh, I’ve missed you. You, Lopez and Fabray… you were my special ones. I saw a lot of me in all of you.”

Kurt smiled, smart enough to recognize what an honor that actually was in Sue’s estimation.

“So make sure that you enjoy your visit here,” she advised. “Take a look around and see how far you’ve come. Because as time goes by, you’re only going to push further away from this place.”

Kurt felt himself nodding, having had very much the same thoughts since he arrived in Lima. He’d long ago made the decision not to let Lima become a trap for him. There was so much waiting for him in New York. Hard work, to be sure, and undoubtedly disappointments with no promise of success. But it was what he hungered for.

He knew that in a few days, he’d be returning to New York. Classes would be starting at the end of the month and he would be moving towards the future he wanted. He looked to his former coach, deeply grateful for all that she had given him.

“I have to thank you,” he said sincerely. “I don’t know if I would have made it out of here if it weren’t for the help you gave me over the years. Or if I’d be able to survive NYADA if I hadn’t experienced learning with you. Surviving you gave me the kind of tough skin I needed.”

Sue chuckled ironically, a touch of color reaching her cheeks. She seemed touched by his statement and a bit at a loss for words. He doubted that too many people thanked her for the insults and teasing, but he recognized how it was helping him now.

“I’d better get going,” he said reluctantly. “I promised my dad that I’d be home for dinner tonight.”

Sue just smiled. “Go on,” she urged. “And say ‘hi’ to Burt for me.”

Kurt nodded and gathered up his trash. Impulsively he bent to quickly kiss Sue on her cheek. “Thank you for everything,” he said again. “I’ll let you know about my next shows.”

It took Sue a moment to recover her wits, but she reached for her wallet and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my personal information,” she said, a suspicious hoarseness in her voice as she tried to maintain her customary air of detachment. “If you need my help… or just to brag about what you’re doing so I can rub it in Schuster’s face.”

Kurt snickered, knowing too well that she would do just that given half a chance.

* * *

“Are you kidding?” Finn asked, astonished at what his stepbrother was telling him. “Sue Sylvester?”

Kurt nodded, laughing out loud. “Finn, I’m telling you that beneath that diamond-hard exterior beats a heart that is pure marshmallow.”

“For you maybe,” Finn said cautiously. “She threatened to rip my spleen out when she thought I’d knocked up Quinn and I didn’t even know what my spleen was at the time.”

“Oh, she’s not that bad,” Kurt insisted, only to be cut off by Finn’s laughter.

“To you! You were one of her favorites,” Finn pointed out. “She would have happily murdered anyone else.”

Kurt leaned back and looked at his brother’s laughing expression on his computer monitor. “Oh, I miss you so much,” he sighed fondly. Finn had always been able to get Kurt to smile. “How are things going down there? The job working out?”

Finn nodded enthusiastically. “It’s been great. You would love it here,” he insisted.

Austin certainly seemed to be agreeing with Finn. He looked tanned and fit and really happy with things. Happier than Kurt could remember him being in quite some time. He seemed to have made some progress on finding his own path, which gratified Kurt tremendously. He’d hated how Finn had felt so lost, but he appeared to be much more secure with himself now.

“And the new apartment is okay?” Kurt asked, glad that his brother had managed to find better accommodations. The one room that he and Puck had managed to find when they first arrived in Austin was neither comfortable nor safe, and Kurt was relieved when they quickly moved out.

“It’s fine,” Finn assured him. “And work has been really great. Our boss has been teaching us a lot and we’ve been going out on a lot of jobs with him. There’s this mansion that we’ve been working on that’s really amazing. Robb, our boss, said that we’re doing so well that he’s giving us a raise and wants us to stay on for good.”

Finn paused, looking a bit contemplative. “You know, I didn’t expect things to turn out this way but I think that it’s really working out well for us. Robb said that we can really do well as craftsmen and I like the work,” he assured Kurt. “He said that if you find something that you’re good at and you like it, you can really be successful if you work hard. And I think I can really see myself this.”

“That’s great, Finn,” Kurt praised happily, delighted that Finn finally seemed to be finding a pathway for himself. “Austin really seems to suit you.”

Finn nodded. “We really like it here. I mean, the people are great and it’s fun and there’s all kinds of stuff to do. Puck and I are looking to put a band together,” he confided. “There are so many clubs down here and the music scene is amazing. We think we might be able to get something going. Just for fun. And we seem to have found another guitarist so we’re off to a good start.”

“I’m so glad, Finn. That sounds amazing!” Kurt said sincerely. He could understand how the two of them might miss music and even if the band turned out to be nothing more than a hobby, it would be good for the both of them.

Finn chuckled to himself. “It’s kind of cool because he moved in with Puck and me. We can share expenses and jam whenever we want,” he explained. “And Robb gave him a job so we can afford to stay here.”

Finn cocked his head. “You want to meet him?” Before Kurt could answer, Finn turned his head and called out, “Hey! I’ve got Kurt on Skype!”

There was a bit of jostling on Finn’s end as the computer image shook and Puck’s face came into view. “Hey, little dude!” he greeted happily. “Good to see you!”

“Hi, Puck!” Kurt couldn’t help from grinning at the sight of his old friend. Like Finn, Puck was looking healthy, tan and happy. Getting out of Lima has definitely been to both of their benefits.

The image on Finn’s end jostled again as the boys shifted so that a third man could squeeze in. Kurt felt his jaw drop in shock at seeing a familiar blond head come into view.

“Sam? Is that you?” he gasped.

Sam’s familiar wide smile came into focus. “Hi Kurt,” he greeted happily. “Bet you’re surprised.”

Kurt nodded, his eyes wide with shock. “You could say that,” he admitted. “How did this happen?”

Sam cocked his head towards the other boys, who sat behind him laughing at Kurt’s reaction. “Well, I’ve been keeping in touch with these bozos and they called me up one day that their boss was looking for more workers and if I was interested in a change of scenery. So, I flew down to Texas last week and the rest is history.”

Finn leaned forward, throwing an arm around Sam’s broad’s shoulders. “It’s really cool,” he told his stepbrother happily. “It’s kind of like us having our own New Directions offshoot down here. All we need is a bassist and we’ll have a proper band.”

Kurt looked at their smiling faces and felt a sense of relief for them. “That’s great,” he stated. “I’m so glad that it’s working out for the three of you.”

Puck gave Finn a playful nudge. “And tell him about Jane,” he urged.

That sparked Kurt’s curiosity. “Jane? Who’s Jane.”

Finn began to blush so deeply that Kurt could see it over his computer, and that got some teasing laughter from the other boys. “I… I kind of started seeing someone,” he confided shyly.

Kurt’s smile widened. “Oh? Tell me more…,” he urged.

“She’s a student over at the university, studying to be a social worker,” he explained. “I met her at this bar where she works as a waitress and we started talking. You’d like her…. She’s really cute and smart and…” His voice trailed off and he started blushing again.

Kurt remembered how moony he’d been when he first met Adam and fully understood what Finn was feeling. “She’s sounds nice,” he agreed. This was the first girl that Finn seemed to be really interested in since his break up with Rachel and Kurt grasped just how big a deal it was for him. It was the last step in Finn moving on.

His phone began to ring for his attention and Kurt quickly checked to see who it was. “Oh, I’ve got Adam trying to call me,” he explained. “Gotta go.”

Finn nodded understandingly. “Okay… say hi to him for us,” he urged.

“I’ll talk to you guys soon,” Kurt promised. “Sam, you keep those two out of trouble!”

“I will,” Sam assured him. “Talk to you soon.”

“Bye Kurt!” Puck chimed in before Finn ended the connection.

Kurt shook his head in amusement at their antics before answering his phone. “Hi sweetie!” he greeted happily, putting his laptop aside.

“Hello darling,” Adam answered and Kurt could all but hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, I miss you!”

“It’s only been two days,” Kurt reminded him, though he wasn’t going to protest as he missed Adam just as much.

“I know,” Adam acquiesced. “But I still miss you.”

Kurt felt his eyes start to water from the emotions that he’d been pushing down all day. “I miss you too,” he confessed. “But you look like you’re having fun.”

Adam laughed a bit. “We had most of the day to ourselves so we did a bit of sightseeing about the city,” he explained. “We visited the Freedom Trail and Independence Hall… I’ll tell you, love, that there seems to be a bit of anti-British bias in all this.”

Kurt chuckled in amusement at the playfully hurt tone in his lover’s voice. “Imagine that,” he teased.

Adam sighed a bit dramatically. “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected,” he granted. “Admittedly this part of history gets a bit glossed over in school across the pond.”

“I assume that it would be,” Kurt laughed. “So, tell me everything. What do they have planned for all of you?”

He could hear Adam settling down more comfortably on the other end. “The hotel is quite nice and I’m rooming with Nialls. Apparently, the others decided that us ‘old marrieds’ should bunk together, but that’s fine. He and I get along well enough. Oh, and we saw the theater this morning and it’s huge! I’ve never performed in a venue this large before.”

“That’s so exciting,” Kurt said happily. “That sounds like it’s going to be amazing. Now what kind of schedule do they have for you?”

“Tomorrow we have a cast and crew meeting that’s probably going to take up a lot of the day,” Adam explained. “And in the afternoon, there’s a meet and greet with the local press so you’ll probably see some things in the next few days before our opening.

“Then we go right into tech and our final dress rehearsals before our opening night,” Adam sighed. “The producers have already warned that most of our run in Boston is selling out. It’s a bit intimidating.”

Kurt wished that he could reach through the phone and wrap his arms about the older man. It broke his heart that Adam was facing such a huge step in his career and that he wasn’t there to support him in person. He knew that Adam was capable of meeting this challenge and that he would be wildly successful, but he wanted to be at his lover’s side to encourage him.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” Kurt insisted. “You are going to be so amazing and everyone is going to see what I see in you. You deserve this so much.”

Adam didn’t answer for moment and Kurt thought that he could hear the older man sniffling. “Thank you, darling. But I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for you,” he insisted. “You’ve been so generous in encouraging me, even when it caused difficulty for you. I owe you so much…”

“Hush,” Kurt admonished gently, feeling his heart swell for this wonderful, gentle man. Adam had been so giving and supportive since the two of them first met that he couldn’t imagine not making the same effort for his lover’s benefit. “I’m fine and the next few months are going to go by so quickly for the both of us. Before we know it, your tour will be done and you’ll be back in New York with me.

“And you’ll be the big star that everyone will the clamoring to hire for their shows,” Kurt claimed. “It’ll be worth all the hard work in the end.”

“I hope so,” Adam sighed.

“It will be,” Kurt insisted gently, sensing that Adam needed a bit of metaphysical hand-holding.

He heard Adam huff a bit, as if trying to regain his composure. “Tell me what you’ve been doing, love,” he urged. “How are Burt and Carole?”

Kurt could see a deflection from a mile away but decided that it wasn’t worth pointing out. Adam was going to have to deal with his worries on his own for now. He didn’t want to start an argument right at the start of Adam’s trip.

They chatted quietly about the kind of small, unimportant things that they always discussed when together. Kurt listened to Adam’s amusing stories about the cast and updated him on his family’s antics. They laughed as they shared their stories, both of them wishing that they could be with their partner.

Kurt lay down on his bed and stretched out, cradling his phone against his cheek so he could hear Adam’s voice clearly. He closed his eyes as he listened to Adam regaling him to stories about a group of British expats on the wrong side of American patriotic exhibitions and feeling a bit on display to the other tourists.

“It was so absurd darling, but I thought that this flock of schoolchildren were actually going to demand that we personally apologize for the starting the war,” Adam laughed. “One little boy was eying me very angrily. I thought he was going to start kicking me.”

“You poor thing,” Kurt chuckled teasingly.

“Their teacher was most apologetic,” Adam reassured him. “She reminded her class that none of us had been born at the time and that we shouldn’t be held responsible for what Old King George did.

“Oh… and maybe you can clear up something for me,” he requested. “That bell… why didn’t anyone ever fix the crack? Because it’s looks so odd!”

Kurt just smiled, listening to Adam chatter about the things he’d seen and was content to let his boyfriend tell his stories. He kept his eyes closed so he could imagine that Adam was in the room with him and not several states away. And maybe if he waited long enough, he would feel Adam’s hand reaching out to touch his.

* * *

“See anything interesting?” Kurt asked as he thumbed through the racks of sheet music.

Tina shook her head. “Not really. I just don’t know what my teachers are going to be asking me to do,” she sighed.

The past few days of his vacation had gone quietly for Kurt as he’d settled into something of a routine. He would wake up early, have a cup of coffee and then go out for a quick run. He stopped by the garage a few times to help out, glad to have a chance to see the guys for a bit before he returned to New York and keep his mechanic skills up to snuff. He spent time with his father and preparing meals with Carole. He did some studying for school, rested a bit and talked with Adam every moment that Adam could steal away from his work.

To be honest, he was very much looking forward to getting back to school and what passed for normal in his life at this point. Being at loose ends was wearing on him and he wasn’t very good at coping with not having a hundred things to do at a time. He just wasn’t’ made for inactivity

He had been lazing in front of the television while his father and Carole were out for the day, feeling his brain cells dying one by one from too many hours of appalling stupid daytime television shows. Not sure if he could stand another moment of watching pathetic dramas about paternity claims, he was nearly delirious with gratitude when Tina had called to ask if he could join her at Between The Sheets to help choose some material for the upcoming semester.

Kurt looked at the stack that she’d picked, seeing that she had chosen an assortment of classic and contemporary musicals. “I think you’re off to a good start,” he consoled. “You’ve got a little of everything. Some of these are just perfect to showcase your voice.” And to push her a little out of her comfort zone, he added mentally.

She looked at the books and shrugged. “I guess,” she conceded. “I just wish that I knew myself as a performer a bit more. Rachel never had that problem.”

“That is not true,” he corrected. “Rachel thought that she did and learned the hard way that trying to copy he favorite performers wasn’t going to get her the career she wants. She’s trying to find herself just as much the rest of us are so don’t feel like you’re at a disadvantage. That’s what going to school is supposed to be about. Don’t be afraid to try new things.”

Tina looked over her selections, making sure that the music she had selected was in the key for her voice.  “Did you find anything for yourself?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t need any classic musicals and they don’t have too much contemporary for my range,” he admitted. There was a decided lack of anything written specifically for a countertenor’s range, so he was concentrating on traditional tenor material. “I’m going to check out some other stuff.”

While Tina continued her search in the musical theater section, Kurt moved to where the books for other musical genres were kept. Working with the Apples had expanded his comfort zone and he wanted to utilize that more unorthodox material in his voice work in class to help him stand out from the other students. He pulled out a book of Gilbert and Sullivan operettas that looked promising and began to thumb through it. He’d like to be able to surprise his voice teachers with some unorthodox material.

“Kurt?”

He felt himself freeze at the tentative greeting, his shoulders instinctively stiffening. Taking a breath to maintain his calm, Kurt turned to find his ex-boyfriend standing too close for his comfort.

“Blaine,” he said with cool indifference, pleased that he was able to keep any anger out of his voice.

The shorter man gave Kurt a tentative smile. “Hi. I wasn’t sure if I would see you while I was in town,” he said carefully. “I’m home on winter break.”

Kurt nodded. “Dad’s home on winter recess from Congress so I thought I’d spend a little time with him before classes start.”

“That’s nice,” Blaine responded, still clearly trying to gage Kurt’s reactions.

Kurt looked Blaine over, seeing that his olive complexion was darker from the California sun and that he still had the tendency to dress like a color-blind geriatric. And he felt…. He was surprised that he felt nothing. No real anger or frustration or lingering affection. Just a bit of annoyance at being bothered when he had things to do.

It was as if he was looking at a stranger that he had no past or present contact with.

“Is… is your boyfriend with you?” Blaine asked carefully, obviously putting out feelers over Kurt’s current relationship status.

Kurt snorted, not surprised that Blaine either couldn’t be bothered to remember Adam’s name or couldn’t bring himself to actually use it.

“No, Adam is out of town right now on a job. He got cast in a play that’s doing a national tour,” he proclaimed proudly. “And yes, he and I are still together. Just in case you were wondering.”

“No! I mean…. That wasn’t…,” Blaine stammered, clearly caught off guard by Kurt’s blunt assessment of his motives. His cheeks began to burn red. “I just saw you and stopped to say hi. Nothing more, I swear.”

Kurt shrugged, honestly not caring what Blaine’s motives were. “Sam said that you’re going to school in California,” Kurt said indifferently, as if he was making polite party conversation. He eyed Blaine’s gelled helmet of a hairstyle and wondered what the hell he’d ever seen in his former boyfriend.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tina notice the unwanted intrusion on Kurt’s personal space and gave him a silent signal to see if he wanted her to step in. He shook his head, letting her know to keep her distance, aware that she didn’t want to be around Blaine any more than he did but he was grateful to see that she was ready to step in if needed.

Blaine seemed to brighten a bit at Kurt’s vague knowledge about his current activities, apparently mistaking neutral awareness for genuine interest. He still clearly lacked anything in the way of self-awareness, not realizing that the only real emotion Kurt felt was relief that Blaine was on the opposite side of the country and that he could avoid most of Blaine’s drama.

“Yeah, I’m living with Cooper while I go to UCLA,” he explained, displaying his usual pleasure in discussing anything revolving about himself. “It’s really amazing out there. I’m doing well there in my acting classes and am already being considered for television roles. I met an agent at one of Cooper’s parties and she’s convinced that she can get me a lead role.”

Somehow, Kurt doubted that, though he kept his opinion to himself. The boasting reminded him far too much of the way Rachel used to brag about her questionable achievements in a way to puff herself up when she wanted to impress others. And whether or not it was true, no longer mattered to him.

Kurt was surprised at the lack of anger and resentment he felt towards Blaine. He hadn’t forgotten what Blaine had done, but he realized that he had truly moved on. Blaine and his actions was no longer a factor in his life. The only emotion he felt was gladness that Blaine wasn’t in his life.

He felt himself nodding absently, offering the barest of compliments for whatever fortune Blaine was finding for himself without any emotional investment, good or bad. He didn’t wish any misfortune on Blaine, but he was thankful that that their lives were on completely separate tracks and would likely not be intersecting in anything other than the most superficial way ever again.

“Kurt, listen… It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Why don’t we go grab a cup of coffee? My treat,” Blaine offered, a bit desperately in Kurt’s opinion. “We can talk… catch up a little…”

Kurt just shook his head. “No thanks. I’ve got to get going,” Kurt pronounced, a trace of firmness in his voice that warned Blaine not to try to argue him into lingering.

“Oh, come on Kurt,” Blaine whined. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and…”

“I said no, Blaine,” Kurt said again, making the refusal as clear as possible since Blaine was determined to be obtuse. “Tina’s waiting for me, but good luck in L.A.”

Blaine’s expression fell at the realization that Kurt was so totally closed off to him. He could only nod in defeat and mutter, “It was good to see you, Kurt. I’ve missed you.”

Kurt didn’t say anything more, only gathering up his purchases to join Tina over by the cash register. She looked over to him with gentle concern while the cashier bagged up her purchases. “You okay?” she asked. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to cut in, but you seemed to be handling him.”

Kurt smiled brightly, openly displaying the emotions that he refused to with Blaine. “Oh, definitely,” he assured her. “Let me just pay for my stuff and we can go grab lunch. There’s a burger joint that opened up that the guys in the garage said is really amazing.”

“Sounds good,” she chirped, accepting the shopping bag with her music.

Neither of the bothered to look behind them to see Blaine’s longing stare, the final realization of just how much he’d lost evident on his face.

* * *

The moment Kurt and Tina walked into Brew & Que, Kurt knew that his father’s employees had it right. The smells coming out of the restaurant kitchen were amazing and Kurt found himself liking the casual atmosphere. The restaurant had been designed to look like a roadhouse, but it was clean and the staff appeared to be friendly.

Tina picked up the menu and looked it over. “Well, there goes my diet,” she laughed when she looked at all the choices. “This all looks so good.”

“You don’t need to diet,” Kurt assured her honestly as he looked over the options. He could see why the guys at the garage liked this place so much, as the overwhelming majority of the menu was meat-based and there didn’t seem to be a low-calorie option in sight. Well, there was a salad but given how woefully out of place it looked on the menu, Kurt decided that it probably wasn’t the best offering.

Once they gave the smiling waitress their orders, Tina settled back in her seat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “I know that Blaine can be a pill and he didn’t look like he wanted to take ‘fuck off’ for an answer.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing at his friend’s words. He was so glad that they had reconciled and that he had given her the chance to regain his trust. “I’m starting to think that I’m never going to totally shake him,” he sighed dramatically. “I could be celebrating my ten-year anniversary and I’ll have him showing up, trying to serenade me with Katy Perry. I really wish that he’d meet someone else so he’ll forget about me.”

Tina smiled gently. “You are kind of unforgettable,” she advised. “And I know what it’s like to be hung up on an ex longer than is healthy.”

Kurt’s gaze softened. He hadn’t been around when Tina was dealing with the aftermath of her breakup with Mike, but he had been on the receiving end of some of her poor behavior. He was glad that she woke up and recognized what she’d been doing and only hurting herself before it was too late.

“So, tell me more about your classes,” he urged, changing the conversation to something more pleasant. He didn’t want to discuss Blaine any further.

He let Tina ramble on about her teachers and classmates while they waited for their lunch, giving her his full attention. On some things, NYU didn’t seem all that different than NYADA. Demanding teachers, challenging classes and competitive classmates. Tina was faced with the same challenges that he and Rachel faced; figuring out how to stand out in a school filled with talented students while developing her own unique gifts as a performer.

“Are you taking any dance classes this year?” Kurt asked, sipping at his iced tea. “You should do well in that.”

She nodded. “Dance, voice and acting,” she confirmed. “I’m going to have a pretty full schedule.”

“How are your teachers?”

Tina couldn’t help wincing. “Tough,” she sighed.

“That’s good,” he assured her. “I know that it doesn’t feel like it at times, but the tougher they are, the better a performer you’re going to become. The key is to learn to take criticism and use it to grow. Not let it demoralize you.

“You know, you can always talk to Elliot if you’re feeling a little overwhelmed,” he reminded her. “He’s still at NYU, and I’m sure he’d be glad to help.”

Tina smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “There are times when I envy you and Rachel being able to support one another at school. I feel kind of on my own.”

“Well, you’re not,” Kurt promised. “Just because I’m at NYADA doesn’t mean that I can’t be there if you need me. NYU isn’t that far away.”

Tina couldn’t resist reaching out to grasp his hand in gratitude. “Thank you, Kurt,” she said earnestly. “I’m so glad that we’re still friends. Especially after how I treated you. I was such a jerk, and…”

“Shush. It’s fine,” Kurt insisted gently. “We went through a rough patch, but we’re good now.”

And they were. Kurt recognized what a dark place Tina had been in and that Blaine had taken advantage of her vulnerability, playing with her feelings in order to make himself feel better about his lot in life. Holding a grudge would not do either one of them any good. And it would give Blaine a win by letting him destroy a friendship that Kurt had cherished. He was sure that Blaine must have been annoyed to see Tina with him and not willing to give him even a word of greeting.

He probably should feel a trace of sympathy for his ex. After all, he was the one exiled to the other end of the country with none of his old friends to support him, but Kurt didn’t have quite that much nobility in him. There was just enough vindictive pettiness within him to take a rare bit of pleasure in Blaine’s misfortune.

“Kurt Hummel! Is that you?”

Kurt looked up in surprise at the familiar voice calling his name and grinned when he saw Dave Karofsky approaching their table with a huge grin on his face.

“Oh my God,” Kurt exclaimed happily, letting the bigger man sweep him up into a hug. “How long has it been?”

“Too long,” Dave admitted, letting Kurt find his feet again. He looked Kurt over from head to toe. “Wow…. You look fantastic.”

“Thanks! So do you.” And Dave did look good, in Kurt’s opinion. He was still a big, brawny young man but he was solid muscle underneath his snug fitting shirt. But what made him good looking was the brightness of his brown eyes and the open smile that contained none of the anger that had so marked him back in high school.

“You remember Tina, right?” Kurt asked, motioning to his table-mate.

Dave nodded animatedly, offering her a warm smile. “It’s good to see you,” he greeted sincerely.

“So how are things at OSU?” Kurt asked curiously.

“Good… good,” Dave confirmed. “It’s been great there.”

“You still majoring in sports business?”

Before Dave could answer, a tall young man approached him with a warm smile. “Hey, I paid the check. Are you ready to go?”

Dave’s eyes softened at the other man’s approach. “Hey, come here… I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Taylor, this is Kurt… from my high school.”

He looked to Kurt, with a gentle smile on his face. “This is Taylor. My boyfriend.”

Kurt’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly remembered his manners and moved to shake the other man’s hand in greeting. “Hi! This is… wow… It is so good to meet you.”

Dave’s boyfriend was a good looking young man with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to glimmer with spirit. He appeared to be about Kurt’s and Dave’s age and was dressed neatly in a pair of dark wash jeans and a soft knit sweater that clung to surprisingly broad shoulders.

And it didn’t miss Kurt’s attention that Taylor bore more than a fleeting resemblance to himself, and he turned a teasing arched eyebrow to the larger man. Dave just gave a small shrug, as if to say, “Hey, I’ve got a type.”

Taylor seemed just as surprised at the unexpected introduction. “So, you’re the Kurt he’s always talking about,” he laughed. “Dave was always going on about you and how I reminded him of you a bit so I feel like I probably already know you.”

Kurt felt his cheeks warm. He probably shouldn’t be too surprised that Dave apparently still regarded him so strongly.

Dave placed his arm about Taylor’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Taylor’s also a student at OSU. We met when he came to see a rugby game that I was playing in.”

The other boy laughed brightly. “I was actually there to cheer on my cousin when I saw Dave. He was totally adorable pushing around the other guys and totally kicking butt.”

Dave blushed at his boyfriend’s compliments and Kurt noticed the way the slimmer man leaned in to nuzzle teasingly under Dave’s jaw. To see Dave so easily accepting physical affection warmed Kurt’s heart because he knew just how fearful Dave had been when he was younger. It was gratifying to see just how far Dave had come. And if he had any worries that Dave’s attraction to Taylor was because of any resemblance to Kurt, the genuine affection between the two of them put his mind at least. Dave clearly liked his boyfriend for himself and not any lingering torch he might have carried.

“You’re home visiting your folks?” Kurt asked. Dave looked so happy and he hoped that everything was well with his family.

“Yup,” the larger man confirmed. “I wanted them to meet Taylor since we’ve been together for a while. Dad’s just happy that I’m happy, and Mom… she’s learning to deal.”

Kurt nodded sympathetically, knowing that Mrs. Karofsky was still learning to accept that her son was gay. Still, it sounded like she was trying, which was a lot better than the outright rejection Dave had experienced when he was first outed.

“We’re going up to Dayton to spend a few days with Taylor’s family before we head back to school,” Dave explained. “This is kind of the ‘meet the mutual folks’ tour.”

“And they’re gonna love you,” Taylor insisted.

“So, what are you doing in Lima?” Dave asked. “I would think you’d have to be pried out of New York with a crowbar.”

He turned to his boyfriend and explained, “This guy is at the best singer you ever heard. He got into this super-elite theater school. It’s like the best in the country.”

Tina couldn’t help from laughing at Dave’s effusive praise of her friend. “Careful Kurofsky, or you’re going to make your boyfriend jealous,” she teased.

“You’re mine, big guy,” Taylor reminded his boyfriend possessively. “And I don’t share, so don’t forget it.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to do that,” Dave agreed, giving Taylor an affectionate glance. “We already saw what happens if he thinks that someone is poaching.”

Kurt found himself liking Dave’s guy, if only for the fact that he seemed completely head over heels for his former classmate.

Dave gave Kurt a rueful grin. “We were at Scandals the other night and ran into your ex,” he admitted. “Taylor was in the bathroom and Blaine… Well, he started hitting on me.”

He paused, gaging Kurt’s reaction to that bit of news but Kurt just sighed.

“I’m not surprised, to be honest,” Kurt said evenly. “That’s a primary reason why he’s my ex. Was he drunk?”

Dave nodded. “He’d definitely been drinking. And he was really pushy. He kept going on about… well, about what happened back in high school and that I could do so much better.”

Kurt couldn’t help from wincing. After the way Blaine had behaved at the music store, he was left wondering if Blaine had any real feelings at all besides his own immediate gratification. Trying to use Dave’s old crush to entice him seemed to be just the kind of childish pettiness that was up Blaine’s alley. And trying to use Dave to get back at Kurt for rejecting him really ticked him off.

“Anyway, this one,” Dave continued, giving his boyfriend a playful nudge.  “He comes out of the bathroom and…”

“I see this badly dressed, drunk creep all over my boyfriend and I told him that if he didn’t remove his hands from my man, then I was going to rip his arms off and beat him over his greasy head with them.”

Taylor laughed wickedly. “You never saw someone back pedal so fast in your life!”

“And he would have done it!” Dave insisted, giving Taylor and affectionate look. Having someone that looked like him being treated with such possessiveness was more than a little satisfying.

Looking at Taylor’s hands, Kurt had to agree with Dave’s assessment. They were surprisingly strong-looking, with unexpected calluses on the fingers and palms that hinted at a lot of hard physical activity. The young man’s forearms were corded with powerful muscle and sinew. Paired with those strong shoulders, there was a lot of upper body strength there. Taylor looked like he could probably lift Dave without too much effort.

Dave couldn’t resist leaning close to Kurt and whispering confidingly, “He’s on the gymnastics team.”

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

Dave nodded, looking very pleased with himself. “He’s super bendy.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing. He was genuinely happy for Dave, glad that he was finally in a good place and seemed really content with his life. That was all Kurt could have ever wanted for him.

“Are you still seeing that guy you met at school?” Dave asked curiously.

Kurt nodded and got out his phone. “Yup. Adam’s working on a national tour right now, but we’re still together.”

“They’re disgustingly in love,” Tina inserted, giving her friend an affectionate smile.

Kurt pulled up a photo of the two of them from Thanksgiving and showed it to Dave and Taylor.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Taylor cooed admiringly. He looked to Kurt and nodded in approval. “Very nice.”

Kurt smiled proudly. “We know how to pick the good ones,” he informed Taylor, causing Dave to blush.

And Dave was a good guy to Kurt. He’d come so far from the fearful, bullying boy he’d been and was now a man who was confident and open about who and what he was. It was wonderful to see.

When the waitress returned with Kurt’s and Tina’s lunch, Dave stepped back. “It was great to see the both of you, but we’d better get going,” he said graciously. “I promised my dad that we’d spend the afternoon with him.”

Kurt nodded, turning to shake Taylor’s hand again. “It was really great meeting you,” he insisted sincerely. “Take good care of the big guy here.”

Taylor nodded. “I will. Good luck back in New York.”

Kurt smiled appreciatively, glad to see that Dave had found himself a really good guy. He turned to give Dave a hug. “Take care of yourself,” he urged. “And let’s make sure that we keep in touch more.”

“You got it,” Dave confirmed. He glanced over to Tina and gave her a friendly wave. “It was nice to see you, Tina.”

She smiled back. “You too!”

Once the two men left, Dave’s arm casually thrown around the other man’s shoulders to keep him close, Kurt and Tina sat down to enjoy their lunch. Tina picked up a french fry and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“It’s funny,” she mused. “Some people change so much and others… they don’t really change at all. Do they?”

Kurt knew that Tina was talking about Blaine and sad realization that the behaviors he’d been displaying of late were his true colors showing through. And that he probably had been showing for a very long time. And that it hurt to have loved and trusted someone who clearly had been so unworthy of that consideration.

And he wasn’t the same person that he’d been when he first left Lima. He was discovering strengths and desires that he’d barely begun to tap. He could see the boy he’d been when his father first put him on a plane for New York and the man who had returned for a brief visit.

All they could do was take what they had learned from the experience and move on. Kurt took a bite from his burger and took a moment to savor the taste, putting Blaine from his mind. He had so much to look forward to in life and it was something of relief that his old relationship no longer haunted him quite so strongly.

Blaine, like Lima itself, could hold him back only if he permitted them to. And he had long since made the decision that they wouldn’t.

He had dreams to follow and Blaine had long since ceased to be a part of them.

* * *

The last days of Kurt’s visit home were pleasant and easy ones. He allowed Carole to mother him, and spent quiet hours with her and his father to reconnect. He rested and prepared for his upcoming classes and rehearsals. He hung around with his friends who were in town. And he spoke with Adam every moment that his boyfriend could spare during his tech preparations.

Still, he would be lying if he tried to claim that he wasn’t glad to be returning to New York. Back where he really belonged.

He nearly went back to the apartment that he’d shared with Adam, only recognizing after he stepped onto the subway with his luggage in tow that he couldn’t go back there again. A change of trains brought him to NYADA, which would now be his base of operations in all things

His room in the dorms was stark and bare, the only amenities being the bed, dresser and desk that had clearly seen a lot of wear and tear since they were installed. The cinderblock wall behind his bed was painted a clean white, providing him with a blank canvas that he could transform into his own space. The boxes and bags containing his possessions sat on the floor, waiting to be unpacked.

Kurt sighed to himself, the realization of what the next few months would really entail finally hitting him. But there was no use in moping, not when he had things to do. Adam needed him to be strong enough to stand on his own two feet while the older man was away and the last thing that Kurt wanted to do was disappoint him. He needed to be able to do this for the both of them.

With quiet resolve, he took up the box cutter and opened up the first box. A framed photo of himself and Adam took a prominent spot on the desk where he would be able to see it from anywhere in the room. After that, the rest of things would fall into place.

[cummunication]

23 Lessons

Today is my birthday. 24 years of ups, downs and everything in between. 23 was a challenging year full of obstacles but needless to say, I got through it (always do). At the heart of a birthday is an opportunity to tell someone, “I’m glad you were born,” also “I’m happy you’re alive.” Despite the fact I am getting older, aging is a sign I have breath in my lungs and my heart is still beating. I am blessed for the lessons I continually learn the more time I spend on earth and the amazing people I continue to meet. So I will let my story unfold and see what 24 has in store. Every one of our stories is important and that is something worth celebrating. So here are 23 lessons I have learned over time plus 1 bonus for my birthday.

1. There is no such thing as a pain free life. Living life to the fullest requires bad experiences. In order to genuinely enjoy life, you must take the bad with the good and vice versa. “Courage is not the absence of fear.” Meaning, fear and courage co-exist. There are voices in my head that tell me to give up and I let them boss me around. Fear can be crippling and it has prevented me from doing things many years. It can seem as though everybody else is moving forward while I’m left behind. That’s terrifying. Bravery is accepting your fear and doing it anyway. 

2. It’s nearly impossible to accept love until you love yourself. For so long I pushed people away; creating walls between me and people I care about. The thought process behind this was if I did not let love in, they could not hurt me. I know letting people close is uncomfortable for me because when you’re unable to love yourself, any type of love given seems threatening. Human connection can feel repulsive and foreign when you push it away for so long. But if you don’t love yourself, how do you expect others to? 

3. I am not a label. Just because you’re diagnosed with something does not mean it is your identity. Having bipolar disorder does not mean I am bipolar. We are so much more than the boxes society puts us in. You need not be ashamed of your illness, mental or physical. If you wouldn’t be ashamed to tell somebody you had cancer, you shouldn’t feel embarrassed of your mental illness. 

4. All emotions are valid. Sometimes we can feel depressed and we don’t have to justify it. No matter how insignificant our feelings may seem, they are important. You are entitled to your emotions because your experiences are real. Don’t let someone tell you it’s “all in your head.” Being continuously invalidated is one of the most damaging things you can do to the psyche. However, don’t fool yourself into thinking your entitlement to emotions is entitlement to unacceptable behavior. If you hurt someone, you are accountable. We should always take responsibility for our decisions.

5. Emotions do not own me. I am guilty of letting emotions overpower me at times. It’s easy to let them take control and get flustered. Sometimes we choose our battles and sometimes, our battles choose us. There’s a quote that says “God only gives us battles he knows we can handle.” Or something to that extent. I’ve been dealt some hands in this game of life I did not want. And yet, we are much stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Someone once said the hardest battles are given to the best warriors. Instead of asking why me? I’m learning to ask why not me?

6. There are wars we must face to uncover our full potential. And sometimes we must win without support. Meaning, it sucks when we feel misunderstood by people closest to us. We need to be “saved” because we feel we won’t make it. While guidance is always appreciated, at times, there is no hand to save us from drowning. I have learned that I can walk this road alone if I must. 

7. Everyone everywhere is going through something. Everybody is fighting their own version of hell. You never know what the person next to you is going through so try not to be an asshole. You probably have a lot more in common than you realize.

8. Quality over quantity. What good is a lot of something if the quality is shit? This especially applies to relationships. Having thousands of Facebook friend’s left me feeling empty when I had zero friends in real life. Nurture your close relationships to create strong support systems. 

9. Try to embrace the present and live less in the past/future. Basically, stop and smell the roses. When you remember to, practice mindfulness. Practice gratitude. It’s super helpful and important to appreciate all we have in our lives, good and bad. Each day I try and reflect on something I’m thankful for. It can be easy to take things for granted and focus on what we don’t have; comparing our negative to everyone else’s positive, resulting in feeling inadequate. Studies show practicing gratitude daily results in increased life satisfaction. 

10. Treat everyone you meet with respect. This is a simple rule that can be hard to implement. When people are mean spirited, it can be tempting to spew it right back. But the way we treat others says more about us than it does them. 

11. Don't sweat the small stuff. Not everything is a tragedy. I’ve spent so much time and energy on things I later realized I stressed over for no reason. I understand having anxiety can be relentless & debilitating however, we can train ourselves to prioritize what consumes the majority of our attention.

12. People are quick to judge. That doesn’t necessarily mean they are bad people, only human. People will jump to conclusions about what you’re doing wrong & how you could be better but I’ve learned this is to take the focus off of them. I’ve come to realize it’s less important what we say and more important what we understand. That’s why we have two ears and one mouth. 

13. There’s more to being beautiful than our looks. There’s more to a person than their clothes, their car, the size of their waist, and their inherent value can never come from the outside. I’ve hated myself because of what I look like, basing my worth on my weight, if my skin is breaking out etc. Throughout my life my appearance will change but at the end of the day I am still me no matter what. Instead of aiming to be “perfect”, I now dedicate most of my awareness to how I can better myself as an intellectual. A boob job or whiting my teeth doesn’t make me more lovable. Real confidence can only come from knowing who you are. 

14. Just because I believe something is true, doesn’t mean that it is. A famous quote says “we see things not as they are, but as we are” or something like that. Thoughts are extremely powerful in affecting our beliefs and morals etc. and these are shaped by our experiences growing up/what we were taught. Nonetheless, it is helpful to question our perception of reality. I’ve been forced to challenge what I tell myself in therapy since for a long time all I told myself was that I’m fat, ugly, and useless. We do not see ourselves as others do. Something may feel true in the moment and we are entitled to our feelings but remember, we can not see it from an objective lens. Being in therapy has been especially useful in distinguishing my mental illness and me. It can be tempting to give into my ANTS when things don’t go my way, yet the older I get the better able I am to take a step back. 

15. This too shall pass. Everything is temporary. Cliche but true. I enjoy learning Buddhism since it teaches that ultimately, nothing is ours. We own nothing and have control of very little. At first glance this can seem overwhelming and depressing but it gives us a chance to live life to the fullest because, well, in 100 years we’re all going to be dead anyway so why not?! It can be nearly impossible to believe the worst moment of our lives will be a thing of the past when we are entrenched in them, but life is full of ups and downs. It helps to recall the last time I was feeling that way and remind myself I got through it, even though I doubted I would. At times I am scared of happiness in fear of it slipping away, afraid of love because I know all good things end, but living like this will prevent me from seizing opportunities and experiencing joy. Pain passes and so does happiness but when we are willing to let things go with the knowledge they return, they do infact, come back. 

16. Nobody thinks about us as much as we do. It is human nature to be all up in our head about ourselves. Humans have a tendency to be self focused and narcissistic. But when I’m feeling particularly self conscious, I tell myself nobody judges me as much as me. Basically, we are our own worst critic. We worry what others think when most likely nobody is worried about us in the first place, they are too busy worrying about themselves. Free yourself of your self scrutiny and let people think what they want. It’s more important what you think of yourself. 17. You can’t change people. I had trouble accepting I could not change my ex. We make excuses for people as to why they are like they are and remain in denial, letting love blind us and keep us in harmful situations. But sometimes love isn’t enough. You can love someone from a distance and let them go. People have to want to change themselves, you can’t do it for them. And you can’t help someone unless they are willing to help themselves. 

18. Healing is a journey that comes in many forms. Recovery is not linear and is about progress, not perfection. Self care is vital: don’t let anybody make you think taking care of yourself is selfish. You should always be your number one priority. There’s a different between self love and selfishness. 

19. Being single is nothing to frown upon. Never depend upon another to be the source of your joy. You have to get comfortable with yourself before you can ever be in a healthy, interdependent relationship. It’s totally normal to want to be in a relationship but it’s another to need to be in one. I would so much rather be alone than in a relationship out of desperation or loneliness. Celebrate your single-hood and take it as a time to enjoy your independence and self discovery. After all, love comes when you least expect it. 

20. Boundaries are necessary. We can’t be truly vulnerable and deeply intimate with someone without clear communication and setting boundaries. I was and still am to an extent, very bad at this. I tend to be an enabler, a doormat, a people pleaser. I want to avoid conflict and not rock the boat so I just say yes to everything. But something I’ve learned is to never destroy yourself in aims to make others happy. It is never worth sacrificing your own peace of mind to try and appease somebody else. At the end of the day, you have to live with yourself and your sanity is what’s most important. Trust your intuition; your gut instinct is almost always right and can never lead you wrong. If you don’t want to do something say no! If you want to do something, say yes! Speak up! Setting boundaries and speaking your truth is hard but imperative if you want to have genuine, equal relationships. If not, you will be full of resentment, take it from me. I’ve learned the truth always comes out one way or another anyway, and people respect those who respect themselves enough to be honest. Besides, the most kind people are those who are in touch with themselves and can be assertive in a caring way.

21. Forgiveness is one of the hardest but most crucial steps to happiness. I’m not saying it is necessary to automatically forgive every person who wronged you, trust me I know how shitty it is. But at least have the intent to, at least be open to it. It’s hard to be free until you release the chains of hate from your heart. We may have to continuously address this searing emotional pain and continually work on it but be aware that holding on to past traumas does not prevent them from occurring in the future. While experiences makes us grow, holding things against people only makes us weak and bitter. It’s something I’m still working on, but I know the more I try to forgive people who have scarred me, the less power I give them. 

22. That being said, even though certain events may make us feel powerless, our power can never be taken from us. I have dealt with many tragedies in my 24 years. I have felt hopeless, out of control, victimized, helpless and everywhere in between. People may have broken my heart and crushed my spirit, but they can never destroy my soul. They can never touch me at the core of who I am. And the same goes for you. 

23. One of the best things we can do for ourselves is to eliminate anybody or anything from our lives that makes us feel less than, or less powerful than we really are. Cutting out toxic, unhealthy and dysfunctional people is the biggest favor you can do for yourself and you will see immediate change. 

BONUS - We are never alone, no matter how isolated we may feel. There are people out there who feel the same as you. Find your tribe. Reach out for help. Speak up. You are worth it. 

Each time a birthday passes we can take it as an opportunity to reflect and celebrate. It’s a chance to celebrate your story and to give those struggling a chance to find hope in that we can survive all that questions our strength. No matter where life has taken me or what I come across this year, I know for the most part, my worst days are behind me. I have the tools and insight to survive almost anything that crosses my path and with that, I can make light out of the darkest nights. I am a survivor, and so are you.

[responsibleformyweight-blog]

5/30/18 Update

Binged today and yesterday, talking to an honest-to-God nutritionist tomorrow. 

Its not like I don’t know what’s healthy and what’s not. What I need help with is figuring out how to quit going back to the mindset of ‘I don’t care what I’m putting in my body right now,’ b/c I super duper know I’m going to care later, that eating like shit is going to keep pushing me back farther away from my goals and leave me feeling awful both physically and mentally. 

What set me off yesterday was a really terrible therapy session. I hadn’t seen my therapist in maybe 7 months. I’d decided to stop going b/c it felt like I’d hit a wall and yes, it is expensive. I was in there chatting and from where I was, I thought I was just trying to give her enough information about what’s happened since I last saw here to give her a good picture of where I am now. But from her perspective, I was just talking at her and not seeing her as a person, that I wasn’t leaving room for her to ask questions or get a word in. I totally disagree with this b/c I clearly remember she did ask questions and I did stop and answer them, or if she had a response to interject I would stop and listen and respond.

 I will concede that by the point in the session that she told me she felt like she was just being talked at, I had gotten a bit bogged down in some details pertaining to the guy I’ve been hung up on/ know better than to bother with yet here I am. That I would concede was getting a little more obscure and possibly beside the point, but she didn’t say that. She said, and this really got me steamed, that she feels like this must be how I talk to other people and this is obviously a big problem in my relationships with other people. Um, no. No no no. It is so crazy that she is assuming from having only heard me talk to her one-on-one as a patient to a therapist that that is how I talk to everyone, just non-stop oversharing and again, from her perspective, steam rolling over everyone else. I ask other people how they’re doing, what they’ve been up to, I want to hear what they have to say. Also from an objective point of view, I very much understand that people love to talk about themselves and a great way to make friends is to act interested in the other person and just let them talk. I get that. How can she make this assumption though? I am here in the therapists office to specifically talk about myself and my issues and try to get some feedback about that. I am paying her so much money to get her feedback.

Unfortunately, I was so upset by this, the idea that maybe I was possibly being so unaware of being so incredibly rude but also knowing that she was wrong about this but knowing that if I disagreed it might come across as just being defensive, that I got all choked up and started stammering and really just couldn’t respond very well. It was eventually agreed that I would come back again next week, but I’m also dreading it to a degree. I might email her about all of this sometime before then. 

This isn’t my first therapist. What’s frustrating is trying to find one that you really jive with, going through the process of meeting with a total stranger, divulging all of these innermost turmoils and having to artificially create what is honestly a very one sided relationship. I understand that I don’t have to go back to this woman, I am reluctant to put energy into fixing this but I also don’t want to just call it quits. 

In summation, that was why I binged yesterday and today. I’d been looking into a nutritionist for a bit and was finally able to schedule an initial phone consultation for tomorrow. I am very tired and frustrated. There are so many things I want and I am willing to work for them but its tough to keep going when there’s just roadblock after roadblock in the way.