#I mean how he gonna marry a human girl if he don't even have legs

[pianokantzart]

Figuring out how to draw him

[hollybell51]

In this timeline

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Trevor Holden (0115) x Philip Pearson (3326)

Travelers (2016)

Word count: 11.5K

Summary: Philip has made some bad decisions. This isn't one of them.

Content: Smut, hurt/comfort, bit of fluff (I guess?), Philip is horrendously down bad, Trevor is too, making out, hickeys, hand jobs, blow jobs, anal, fingering, dirty talk (like a tiny bit dw), Trevor calls Philip "man" during sex, top Trevor/bottom Philip in an attempt to avoid Trevor's accidental twinkification (I fear this may have backfired), (there are honestly switchy moments too so idk if I'd label it as anything other than a healthy flexible dynamic), Philip's hallucinations, the age gape is mentioned but just in passing, implied/referenced drug use (guys c'mon it's Philip), everything canon typical. This takes place after s3 e3. I may have missed some things so lemme know if I should add anything xx

Notes: Happy valentines day! What even was season 3 honestly these two are so fucking whipped for each other it's stupid. How can anyone look at them and see anything but a married couple who are deeply, disgustingly in love with each other. Honestly. I'm so upset that this got cancelled (even though I lowkey liked the ending) so my insufferable ass is probably gonna deal with that through taking matters into my own hands. Also side note this is the first time I've posted m/m so don't be too mean I actually don't really know how men work so... yeah. Shit's been rough lately, breakup and car crash in the space of two days so I actually haven't proofread this sorry (there might be mistakes but that's ok because to err to be human <3) and also I’m literally a (queer) girl and I know nothing about gay (man) sex and it shows. You have been warned.

Philip had woken that morning (morning? Or afternoon? He can’t remember. It doesn’t feel like it had been morning when he’d finally swum up out of Marcy’s sedative) with Trevor in his bed. Well, it wasn’t Trevor, not really, but it was still nice. Not Trevor was smiling at him, wriggling closer, his hand finding Philip’s and pulling it towards his chest. Philip had blinked and he had shimmered, dispersed into light, reformed. He’d blinked again and Not Trevor was gone, and then the real world was flooding in and he half wished he hadn’t woken up at all. 

It’s been happening more and more often lately. Philip looks up from the computer screens and Not Trevor is already smiling at him. Not Trevor interrupts him with a kiss as he walks past. Not Trevor pads barefoot with a towel wrapped around his waist out of the bathroom and winks as Philip watches him go. Philip kneels next to the couch to pick up a ball bearing he’d knocked off the table from under its edge and when he looks up Not Trevor’s legs are either side of him and he has his head tilted back, shirt discarded and he’s panting hard. Philip has no doubt what that particular version of himself had just been doing. On the flip side, he pushes his chair back to take a break and Not Trevor grins up at him from between his legs, he leans over Philip from behind and slides his hand down his front, braces himself against the shower wall, tells Philip to turn around and get on his hands and knees and a million other things and Philip curses the update because none of those images are ever going to leave his head. 

Philip’s not too proud to admit when he likes someone. He’s human, after all, even if some days he doesn’t feel it, and Trevor is beautiful. It’s not just his host, either, although it probably helps to have been blessed looking like that, but there’s something about what 0115 and Trevor Holden have become — Philip’s Trevor, the team’s Trevor, 0115’s own Trevor — that pulls Philip in like a magnet. His joy is addictive. His enthusiasm for life, while it sometimes grates on Philip’s considerably less enthusiastic nerves, is infectious and maybe what people say about opposites attracting each other is right. Not even opposites, really — Philip doesn’t think they’re opposites, but he knows they’re not so-called twin flames — but something about Trevor balancing Philip. Pulling him out of those particularly dark little holes he knows it’s all too easy to get stuck in. Hell, he fell into one last night.

So Philip’s been peeking into other timelines and it’s been fueling the Trevor thing and now he’s waking up and half wishing that what he’s seeing is real. He wants to reach out and grab Trevor and never let go. He wants to stay in this bed with him and never have to do another mission again and just be and let humanity save itself. But, he tells himself firmly as he swings his legs over the side of the mattress and pauses, letting his body stabilise and adjust, that is not going to happen. No amount of wishing will make it. 

Carly and Marcy have explained, as best they can, and he really does feel bad for pulling that kind of shit when they’re all under stress, when nothing feels like it’s going right for anyone and they all have their own bullshit to deal with (he knows all about that, thanks to the update), but Aleksander’s face is still on the computer screens and Philip also knows Mac and Trevor will follow through. And that is where his brain snags for the second time today. Trevor, who found him on the floor and called Marcy over, “panicked” is the word the medic used, and then took off to kill a kid — to help Mac kill a kid. Trevor has faith in the Director, in the Grand Plan, Philip knows that as well as anyone, but he still cringes at the thought of what his roommate — because calling Trevor friend doesn’t quite feel right when he’s seen what he looks like when Philip is not going to complete that thought, they’re past coworkers, and he doesn’t feel like the other guy’s teammate anymore — must be thinking and feeling and doing right now. 

But then, after a few hours of Marcy and Carly doing their best to help him and Philip doing his best not to scream or break something or walk out the door and never come back, the Messenger comes through and just like that it’s all ok again. Marcy and Carly are relieved. Philip is relieved. A massive weight has been lifted off all their shoulders, so why does he still feel so heavy? 

He walks through erasing Mac’s memory like he’s walking through a dream, manages not to stare too long at the insubstantial vision of Trevor’s hand on his knee as they take their leader back to his house and (not uncarefully) deposit him in his bed. They leave. They drive back to ops. Marcy asks if he’s alright and he nods, doesn’t miss the way she says something too quiet to make out to Trevor as she heads back to David. Carly stays for longer, cleans a gun, then makes her exit with a firm hand on Philip’s shoulder and a tight smile. Then they’re alone, and Philip is staring at the screen with a cup of something (he thinks it might be tea, but it’s not hot anymore) he doesn’t remember getting in his hand.  

He doesn’t even hear Trevor approach until the engineer sighs, settling himself next to Philip’s shoulder. 

“The mother even speaks Romanian,” he says, steaming mug cradled in his hands. 

Philip glances at him and he shrugs. “Well that’s great, I’m obviously happy about that.” And he is, he really is. The woman smiling in the photograph looks like a kind person. She doesn’t have the sharpness about her eyes that Aleksander’s previous foster parents did, and maybe the familiarity of the language will help. He knows it did when they rescued the boy in the first place. The word rescue, even just in his mind, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He could have avoided the whole mission — putting Trevor and Mac through that — if he’d just stuck to what he was supposed to. There’s no way that this wasn’t some sick lesson. But still… “Why didn’t we start there?”

Trevor pauses before he answers, eyes still locked on the computer screen, brow furrowed. “That wasn’t the path he was on.” 

Sometimes Philip forgets how old Trevor — 0115 — is. He doesn’t act like an old man, as much as the others (Philip included) call him that and joke about it, as much as Trevor himself is open and just as willing to talk about the fact. But there are moments like these when Philip can see 0115’s plural lifetimes of experience and knowledge and wisdom poking through that barely adult face, and it catches him off guard. He’s not put off by Trevor’s age, Truth be told, he’s not sure if anything could put him off Trevor, but it can still be a little unnerving. 

“You don’t need to explain that part to me.” Philip tries not to sound annoyed, because he isn’t. Not really. “What I'm asking you is why we didn’t get a mission to change his path in the first place.” 

Again, Trevor shrugs, and on anyone else the gesture would look flippant. Not him, though. Nothing’s ever flippant with Trevor unless he wants it to be. “Maybe we did. The Director has to thread the needle on billions of possibilities happening to billions of people in a billion different places all over the world. If it seems hard to understand the steps that lead to a particular outcome, it’s because it’s literally impossible for any of us to understand that.” 

Philip can feel Trevor’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look up. “I hate that.” 

There’s a pause, and he feels Trevor shift infinitesimally closer. “Yeah,” he says. “But you can’t argue with the results.” 

This time Philip does raise his eyes from the screen, turning in his chair to face his roommate. The other guy is perched on a filing cabinet, and Philip has the distinct urge to tell him to just get a chair. He looks a little ridiculous; elbows on his knees, feet resting against the desk (he really wants to tell him to get a chair), cup in his hands and that look that’s so sincere he’d laugh if he saw it on anyone else. It’s so… him and Philip can’t look away. 

Trevor sighs, leans forward and sets down his cup, his feet slipping off the desk as he twists to face Philip. “It wasn’t your fault,” he tells him. 

Philip shakes his head, looking away. He wishes he could believe Trevor, wishes he had just an ounce of his conviction. “It was. By definition, Trevor.” 

“You were trying to save him.” 

“And I made things worse. The Director was teaching me a lesson, I know it was. I know… I know I shouldn’t have tried to interfere.” 

“Hey, hey.” Trevor’s hand is firm and warm on Philip’s shoulder. “You tried to do what you thought was right. And yeah, it didn’t really work out, but it’s in the past. We can’t change that.” He stops, as if realising the irony of his words, then, “Nobody blames you, Philip.” 

“They should.” I do. 

Trevor is close enough that Philip can see the evening sun gilding the tips of his eyelashes, and his voice is so gentle it hurts. “What good is it gonna do now, huh? How is holding onto all that shit and dishing out blame and responsibility gonna help anyone?” 

Philip doesn’t have an answer for that, but he’s not sure if that matters. Not sure if he could speak even if he wanted to, because Trevor is still touching him and Philip must have slid his chair closer because he doesn’t remember the gap between them being this small. Trevor is searching Philip’s face, and he can practically see the cogs ticking behind his eyes — which, up close, never fail to suck Philip’s focus like a vacuum. 

“It’s not your fault. It was never going to be your fault, Philip.”

Philip swallows hard, tongue darting out over his lips. It’s too quiet and too loud all at once, and he wants to look away and he never wants the moment to end. The world is blurry, all he can see is Trevor, his skin is too tight and Trevor’s simultaneously too close and not close enough and then he is leaning the last few inches and all Philip can think is that this has to be another timeline. Things like this don’t happen to him, at least not this him, and—

Oh. Oh. 

Trevor’s lips are soft against his own, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder sliding up to hover almost hesitantly at his jaw. Philip can feel his own heart beating at a million mph, his blood rushing in his ears, and without even realising it he’s kissing Trevor back, tilting his head and pressing closer, Trevor’s skin so warm against his. 

The thing about what Philip sees — hallucinations, illusions, visions, whatever he calls them — is that he doesn’t feel it. He didn’t process the warmth of Not Trevor’s hand when it had been resting on his leg in the car or against his own that morning. He hadn’t felt the press of Not Trevor’s shoulders between his thighs, hadn’t felt the rush of breath over his skin when Not Trevor had laughed and kissed his cheek. And he certainly hadn’t felt the slick softness of Not Trevor’s tongue brushing over his lip. 

Oh, is all Philip can think again as he lets Trevor part his lips, the barest hint of his tongue sliding against his. A question. A warning. A test. Of course, the answer is yes. Philip knows in his soul that the answer will always be yes for Trevor, no matter what timeline they’re in. He feels himself sinking, floating, and when he pushes back against Trevor and slips his own tongue into his mouth, he can taste the tea he was drinking. Trevor is warm and sweet and Philip has never tasted anything so good and now his hand is moving, fingers tangling in Philip’s hair and if it weren’t for the rushing in his ears he could have sworn that Trevor gives a pleased little hum.  

Philip wants to stand, wants to crowd closer and take Trevor’s face between his hands, stand between his legs and feel the press of his body against his own. He wants to feel Trevor’s skin on his, wants him under him and on top of him and everywhere he can think of. He’s pretty sure that Trevor’s knee is blocking him from getting any closer, that and the fact that he’s still sitting in his chair. 

So, as much as it pains him to do so, Philip pulls back from Trevor’s mouth and pauses, heart still thundering, breathing hard, and looks at him. Trevor’s lips are kiss swollen and still parted, his eyes dark and locked on Philip and Philip alone. His hand doesn’t leave Philip’s hair, thumb moving in a tiny arc over the skin under his ear and he knows that even if he wasn’t a Historian, even if he wasn’t hardwired to remember everything, this moment would be ingrained in his brain forever. 

“Are you…?” Trevor starts, watching as Philip pushes himself to stand, his eyes following his every move, head tipping back. He wavers, and for a moment he’s shirtless and sweaty and his cheeks are flushed pink. Not Trevor tilts his head to the side, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and Philip blinks. His Trevor is still watching him, a hint of concern marring his face. 

Philip just nods, watching Trevor’s hand trail down over his chest, coming to rest right over his heart. He wonders if he can feel how hard it’s beating. He looks so serious and sincere, and Philip still can’t believe that this isn’t just because of the update. This is real. This is happening here and now. 

“Philip,” Trevor murmurs, voice thick. God, Philip could listen to that all day. 

He dips his head, and he’s sure that Trevor is smiling as their lips meet again. Philip is painfully aware of where his legs aren’t quite touching him, just resting either side of his hips, but that doesn’t matter because Trevor’s hand is sliding down his torso to sit feather light on his hip, not quite on the waistband of his pants but close enough that Philip feels blood rushing quickly downwards. He places  his own hands firmly either side of Trevor’s face, feels the muscle there twitch momentarily, the mechanism of Trevor’s neck and jaw sliding smoothly like well oiled machinery as he kisses him deeper, harder. His fingers curve perfectly around the back of Trevor’s neck, and this time he’s sure when he hears the little sound slip from the engineer, muffled by his own tongue. It is going to drive Philip insane. Trevor is going to drive him insane. He already is. 

“Philip,” Trevor says again, and Philip really can’t help but push closer. The edge of the filing cabinet is hard against his thighs, the metal cold through his jeans and somehow that is what brings Philip’s spiralling, out of control, too-much-too-fast brain back to the present. And then it clicks, and a stone sinks deep in his stomach. Trevor is distracting him, taking his mind off a truly terrible day because Philip did something stupid last night and Trevor found him this morning. He breaks away, breathing hard for an entirely different reason now. 

Trevor’s hands stop him from going far, his eyebrows furrowing into that familiar concerned frown. “You alright?” 

“I…” Philip stops, takes a breath, swallows. Yes, he’s alright. He’s more than alright with Trevor kissing him, with kissing Trevor. But here and now… Philip isn’t sure how to voice that. He knows Trevor wouldn’t judge him, not after Jenny. Trevor isn’t someone from the 21st, where sex is currency and intimacy is a completely separate thing. Trevor, like most from their time, knows that there’s more to it than that, he knows about Jenny because Philip has told him about Jenny and that whole mess and he trusts Trevor not to ignore all that. But…

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Trevor says, and Philip unfreezes. “I didn’t think it through. I know it’s been rough, and I don’t wanna rush you or—” 

“Are you trying to distract me?” 

Trevor stops, his frown deepens and he shakes his head. “Not really. Maybe a little.” He sighs. “I mean, I didn’t kiss you to distract you. But if I am… is that a bad thing?” He takes a deep breath, his fingers curling on Philip’s hip. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“I don’t…” He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to make of that. It’s not what he wants to hear, but it's not what he doesn’t want to hear either. Truth be told, he doesn’t even know what that is. All he knows is that Trevor means more than 21st century sex and he is in way too deep here. 

Philip does not consider himself brave. He knows people in the future who would say he is just for being here now, but the truth is, they don’t know what they’re talking about. He is not brave, he simply exists. He is a piece in a machine and there is nothing brave about that. But this is different. This is Trevor, and Trevor has always made Philip feel like more than that. Like he’s a person, and more importantly, like that person is worth something. And no, Philip doesn’t want Trevor to stop. He would be happy to live in this moment forever, and that’s the problem. Philip swallows. He will be brave. 

“I don’t want you to be a distraction.” 

Trevor draws back, a tiny wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “What do you want me to be?”

Philip almost curses, swallows again, looks at his hands. “I want you to be you. You… You mean something to me, Trevor. I want this to mean something.” 

Philip isn’t brave enough to look back at Trevor, but he doesn’t have to be. The other guy’s hand is on his cheek, tilting his face back towards his, and when their eyes meet all Philip can see is the familiar warmth and understanding and joy that Trevor somehow carries within himself no matter what. “It does,” Trevor whispers, and kisses Philip again. 

This kiss tastes different. It has to, Philip supposes as Trevor inches forward on his perch, gripping his shoulders, his arms, his waist, his hips. Trevor really does mean something to Philip, more than he ever would have guessed he could. It’s not because of the visions, and it’s not because Trevor is kissing him now. It’s everything else. It’s Trevor bringing Philip a fastfood meal after he’d been shot. It’s the wordless hands on his shoulders when he’s the first to arrive at the garage and the last to leave. It’s the undiluted wonder and awe in his face when he looks outside. It’s the insistence that he’ll come with Philip, even if it’s because he doesn’t fully trust him — because whatever the reason, Philip likes that he doesn’t feel alone. The reminders that Philip is human, just as human as Trevor, because sometimes that is the hardest thing to remember. 

And Philip really does feel like shit for this morning. For last night, when he’d seen the mission come through and he’d sat there, frozen, and debated calling out Trevor’s name just to see another face and hear his voice, feel another person touch him and remember. But he hadn’t been brave last night. He’d run, and had left Trevor to find and clean up the mess he’d made. He feels his chest tearing apart, ripping violently right down the middle. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, tearing himself away from Trevor’s mouth. 

“What for?” Trevor frowns. 

Philip swallows. “Last night. This morning. All of… that.” 

The understanding is so clear in Trevor’s eyes, followed quickly by sadness that hits Philip like a punch. It resolves and shifts, and Trevor’s lips twitch into something that could be called a smile. “You scared me,” he says. 

“I know. I didn’t mean to.” An eyebrow raise at this, and Philip goes on, “I wasn’t trying to. I just… I don’t even know. I was going to tell you when it first came through but I just… I just couldn’t. You know?” 

Trevor nods, and Philip knows he means it. This is the guy who interrupted Grace Day’s TELL, for God’s sake. He doesn’t blame Philip for Aleksander. Things might get murky and complicated sometimes, but at the end of the day Trevor understands when it matters. “I wish you had,” he tells him. There’s no blame or resentment in it, just a statement of fact. “We could have worked something out together.” 

Now it’s Philip’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Worked something out?” 

“Ok,” Trevor concedes, “maybe not work something out. But you didn’t have to be alone. You don’t have to be alone, Philip. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” 

It’s so much. It’s too much, and Philip is too heavy for this. So he just nods, watches as Trevor slides off the filing cabinet and stands before him. Philip lets him put his hands on his face and can’t stop himself from leaning into the touch. It doesn’t matter how small it makes him feel. Doesn’t matter that Trevor’s breath hitches in his chest when Philip keeps going and kisses him again, doesn’t matter that he can’t even begin to express what’s swirling in his update-addled, over-full and under-nourished brain right now. They’ve got time. Philip can untangle it all later. 

He pulls Trevor closer, so close he wonders if he can feel the beating of his heart against his own. He can feel his breathing, the expansion and contraction of his lungs and the rush of air on his cheek, the heat of his body and oh, yeah, ok, Trevor’s hard. The thought of that alone has Philip aching, hips pressing into Trevor’s, their jeans hard and rough between them. Something just this side of a moan slips from Philip as Trevor presses back, his hands once more finding Philip’s hair and commanding him to kiss him harder, kiss him longer, kiss him deeper. Philip is only too happy to oblige.

Trevor hums into his mouth as Philip reaches between them, fingers skirting the hem of his shirt. Trevor gives him an insistent nudge and that’s all Philip needs to slide his hand under the fabric, run it over the hot skin of his hip and the planes of his stomach, bunching his shirt up like it’s nothing. Philip wants to map out every cell of Trevor’s body, commit every curve and dip and hollow to memory like he’s memorised every TELL and candidate and major event. He passes his hand over Trevor’s ribs, up the centre of his abdomen, higher to his sternum and back down again to grip his waist. Touching him isn’t enough. Philip needs this man. 

Trevor’s grip on his hair tightens momentarily when Philip’s lips move from his own to his jaw, down the column of his neck. These kisses are wet, open mouthed, not quite careless but hardly neat, and if he goes any harder he’s going to leave marks. He isn’t sure if that’s something Trevor wants, but the other man’s head is tilted to let Philip continue, so he sucks — oh so lightly — at the spot where neck and shoulder meet. 

“Fuck,” Trevor hisses, fingers curling, hips grinding against Philip’s. Philip can literally feel his brain emptying of all thought except that he needs to make Trevor do that again. 

“Hm?” he asks, just in case (just in case what? He doesn’t know), and Trevor nods. So Philip does the only rational thing and sucks again, moves his head and does it to another spot, and now that he can see the darker patches of skin on Trevor’s neck, he never wants to stop. 

“Philip,” Trevor whispers, voice cracking. His throat moves as he swallows, hard, and Philip pointedly grazes the spot with his teeth. He tastes like the cheap soap they keep in the bathroom, and even though it’s the same one Philip uses day in day out, on Trevor’s skin and up this close it is somehow more. It’s Trevor, and Philip isn’t sure he’s ever going to be able to casually use the stuff again without this moment flooding his overly accurate historian brain. As desperate and insane as he knows the thought is, even as he has it, Philip wants to lick every trace of that soap off Trevor. But his shirt is still bunched around his chest and Philip can only reach so much of his skin around it. 

“Off,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to see Trevor’s tongue dart over his lip, his eyes dark.

His voice is husky and raw when he speaks. “You too.” 

“Here?” The realisation that they’re still at the desk seems to strike Trevor the same moment that Philip fully processes it, eyes darting around the room. 

After a moment, Trevor shakes his head. “No,” he says, untangling himself from Philip enough to take his hand. “No, come on.”

Philip has never been led into his own bedroom. He’s never watched someone else’s hand pull at his, met someone else’s eyes over their shoulder, stumbled to keep up with someone else through his own door. Never been pulled onto his bed by someone else. He’s been pushed, which was exciting and fun and hot at the time, and he’s done the leading, and the looking back and the steadying at the inevitable stumble, but this is new. If Philip is completely honest, it’s a little unnerving. 

But then Trevor is facing him, reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head and all Philip can think is holy shit because all that football pays off. Trevor’s mouth curves as he steps towards him, like he knows exactly what Philip is thinking. Which wouldn’t be that hard, since Philip isn’t exactly trying to keep a straight face. 

“You tryna catch flies, Philip?” Trevor asks him, and Philip feels his cheeks heat. He hadn’t even realised his mouth was open. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, eyes locked firmly on Trevor’s face. His smile. The collection of red marks dotting his neck. 

Trevor just shakes his head, stepping closer. “Don’t be.” His hands settle on the hem of Philip’s own shirt, his fingers barely brushing Philip’s skin. “But,” he goes on, “this isn’t fair.” 

“Oh, fair,” Philip echoes, raising his eyebrows. But he’s already taking over from Trevor, shrugging off the shirt and dropping it like it’s nothing (and it isn’t really, not when he has Trevor standing before him like this). “Better?” he asks. 

Trevor looks away from his face, and Philip can almost physically feel his eyes sliding over his torso, stopping at his chest, lifting back to his face and gleaming with something that he can only describe as incredulous excitement. “What’s that?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

“Piercing.” Because that’s what Trevor’s looking at, and if Philip’s completely honest, he feels a little… proud? He’d had his doubts when he’d first discovered the ring through his nipple, and had been more confused by it than he had by the ear and nose piercings. He can understand jewellery where people are going to see it. He’d done his research on piercings and tattoos outside of the training on 21st century behaviour they’d all taken, at the same time as he’d taken a deep dive into tattoo symbolism (he’d been suddenly consumed by the fear that his host’s tattoos meant something he should know about, which hadn’t really been the case but Philip still thought that it was better to know than not). He hadn’t found much to convince him that the solitary ring through his nipple of all places was a particularly groundbreaking way to modify the body, but now… Now he thinks he might get it. 

Trevor is shaking his head, eyes still glued to the little piece of metal. “That’s so…” 

“Weird?” 

“No, it’s—” He stops, laughs, grins at Philip. “It’s really hot.” 

Philip can feel his eyebrows shooting up his face. “You think?” 

“Yeah, I… I don’t know why.” 

“Oh, ok.” That’s… unexpected. Philip knows that his host isn’t bad to look at, and he knows that some of the reasoning behind piercings is for attractiveness. He’s studied the face that he now calls his in the mirror a thousand times, he sees the body that he now inhabits every day and as far as 21st century guys in their late twenties go, it’s really not bad. Of course, there are the track marks and the occasional (lately more frequent) shadows under his eyes, stubble if it’s been a particularly rough few days (Trevor’s newly almost-permanent presence helps with that, even if he doesn’t know it), but hey, if Trevor’s standing here right now he knows he’s got something going for him. But the look in the engineer’s eyes when they meet Philip’s again makes him feel like a damn artwork. 

Trevor’s grin broadens, and before Philip can even begin to reconcile what that’s doing to him Trevor’s lips are on his once more and he’s being pulled hard against him, skin to skin, heart to heart, Trevor’s hands roaming over his shoulders and his back and his waist and his ribs and his chest and Philip is moaning into the kiss like… he doesn’t even know what. 

They’re moving, almost tripping over each other and it’s a miracle either of them can keep their balance, but then Trevor’s knees hit the edge of the bed and they’re half falling onto it, a little uncoordinated but does that really matter when Trevor is still pulling Philip close, smiling even as his tongue dances alongside Philip’s? He’s all too aware of where his body is, where his leg presses between Trevor’s and his arm is locked, holding his weight off the other man. 

Trevor, however, has both hands free. Gooseflesh prickles across Philip’s chest and stomach as he trails his hands over his body, electricity sparking when his fingers skirt the waistband of his pants. He feels Trevor smile again, and his breath hitches in his throat. Shit, he’s never going to be able to kiss anyone else again. He doesn’t even want to kiss anyone else. Ever. 

“Do you want this?” Trevor murmurs against his lips, the tips of his fingers just dipping below his waistband and oh fuck he hadn’t realised just how badly he wanted that. 

Philip nods, then groans when Trevor palms him because even through his pants his hand is a million times better than his own. The other guy curses, does it again, and Philip’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His eyes are dark and sincere, flicking between Philip’s own and where his fingers are curling gently around his clothed cock. 

“Can I?” Trevor asks. Philip has never nodded faster. He’s not even entirely sure what Trevor’s getting at, but he’s happy to let him touch him however he wants, wherever he wants, and he trusts him completely. Of course he already knew that — you kind of have to trust your team, after all — but he’s only just realising that he’s trusted Trevor as more than a team member for quite some time. Probably right alongside everything else that’s become more than a team member with Trevor. 

Philip isn’t wasting time philosophising, his attention fixed firmly on Trevor’s hand which is back at his pants and oh that’s what he meant. He helps out, shoving his pants down and off with less grace than he’d like, underwear following suit. The air is cool on his hot skin, and for a moment he feels oddly exposed. Then Trevor is pushing at his hip, tongue darting over his lips again and there’s almost an urgency to his movements. 

“C’mon, just— Hold on a second—” he says, still attempting to manoeuvre Philip. 

He almost laughs at his eagerness. “Trev, give me a second, man. What’re you tryna do?” 

Trevor pauses, his thumb running in a tiny arc over Philip’s hip bone — he’s not sure if he’s even doing it consciously. “Swap.” He nods to the mattress, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is and Philip’s just lagging behind. 

“Oh, ok.” He shrugs, half climbing and half rolling sideways. “You could’ve just said that.” 

“Yeah, I know, I…” He sighs, rubs a hand over his forehead. “I keep getting caught up. Sorry.” 

Trevor getting caught up in him? In Philip? He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he just shrugs again. “I’m that irresistible, huh?” 

The look Trevor shoots him is anything but joking. “You have no idea.” 

Philip opens his mouth, shuts it, shakes his head in awe. Who would have thought? “C’mere,” he tells Trevor softly, and the gravity is lifted as he smiles and practically bounces down beside him, pressing his lips to Philip’s. They’re getting better at this. Not that they were bad, of course, but they fall into the easy rhythm of each other much more quickly now. There’s no fumbling or searching or exploring, it’s familiar and Philip never wants that to end. 

Trevor’s hand is resting on Philip’s chest, warm and firm and now Philip is sure he can feel how hard his heart is beating. He stretches up, chasing Trevor as the other guy pulls away, but he can only do so much. Trevor smiles and gives him another quick kiss, almost chaste, the kind that Philip definitely doesn’t imagine he’d give him when their day to day paths cross in the garage. When he leaves to get food. When he comes back again. 

But that thought is wiped away before Philip’s mind can snag on it, because Trevor is spitting into his palm and wrapping his fingers around Philip’s dick, gentle and slick and warm and Philip curses softly. It’s almost almost perfect. 

“Like this?” Trevor asks, eyes fixed on his face. 

Philip swallows. His voice sounds odd even to his own ears, husky and strangled. “Uh, little harder.” 

Trevor squeezes, and it’s all Philip can do not to fall apart right there as his grip tightens and his hand moves. “This?” 

He feels the breath catch in his throat. “Yeah. Fuck Trev, that’s perfect.” And it is. It really is. There’s only so much his mind can come up with, he thinks as he takes in Trevor’s strong arm and large hand moving rhythmically over him, feels the heat of his body where it presses against his own and listens to Trevor’s breathing and soft hum of appreciation in response to his own moan. No matter what the update lets him see, no matter what he manages to dream up by himself, it won’t compare to this. 

Trevor is leaning closer, and Philip shivers as his breath hushes over the skin of his shoulder, his neck, then practically gasps as Trevor kisses the hollow under his jaw. He makes to turn his head, meet the other guy half way, but Trevor doesn’t let him. He kisses his jaw again, nudging him away and Philip just lets him. He even turns his face, just a little, but Trevor notices and his chuckle sends molten heat shooting straight down his spine. Trevor’s lips are moving, up over the muscle of his neck, tongue darting out to taste his skin. Philip gets it now, and then Trevor is whispering “this ok?” and he’s nodding (how could it not be?). 

“Fuck,” he breathes as Trevor sucks at the spot, and Philip really gets it. It’s not like hickeys are foreign to him, but this is something else altogether. Trevor’s hand is still moving firmly on his cock, maybe a little slower than he himself would go but damn is it good, and now he’s working his way down Philip’s neck to his chest. The tiny burst of almost-pain followed by the soft heat of Trevor’s tongue has Philip arching towards him, hips jutting shamelessly into his hand as he does his best to stop the embarrassingly desperate sounds he’s on the verge of making from escaping him. 

“Philip,” Trevor murmurs to his clavicle. 

“Hm?” Philip answers, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. He half wishes he didn’t, another blazing hot spark of pure need rushing through him.

Trevor either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He presses his lips to Philip’s skin yet again, gentle and oddly tender given that he’s still jerking him off, looking at him through his lashes (Philip wonders if he’s doing that deliberately. If he knows what it’s doing to him). “You don’t have to be quiet,” he says softly, and there’s another kiss. Lower this time, on his pectoral.

“I’m— I’m not—” Philip breaks off in a rush of air when he feels Trevor’s teeth graze his skin. 

“Not what?” 

Philip doesn’t even know what he’d been getting at, but it sure isn’t important. “Doesn’t matter,” he breathes. 

“You sure?” 

“Mhm.” Then, as Trevor’s thumb slides over the sensitive head of his cock, “Fucking hell, Trev.” 

“Is that—” 

“Yes. Yes, oh my— Fuck—” 

Trevor’s mouth has found his nipple. Maybe it’s a little weird, but Philip is hardly in any condition to be thinkin about that. Trevor’s tongue is flicking over the ring cautiously, gently, and it feels really good. Better than it has any right to.

“Ok?” Trevor asks, kissing the sensitive spot. 

“Yeah.” Philip swallows, bites down on a moan and then remembers Trevor’s words. You don’t have to be quiet. 

This time, when Trevor’s hand tightens and moves over his aching cock, he groans, and feels Trevor’s body shudder against his. Philip brings his hand up to run across Trevor’s strong shoulders, down over his spine and back up again. He hums, and his hand speeds up every so slightly. 

“Oh fuck,” Philip moans, “fuck, Trev, keep doing that.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Trevor’s voice is low and rough, his chuckle little more than a breath of air. “I’m not… I’m not stopping.” The engineer raises his head, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he studies Philip’s face like he’s trying to memorise it. Philip is torn between holding his gaze and looking away, heat coiling low inside him, and again he jerks in Trevor’s hand. Trevor laughs again, moving hard and fast and if he keeps that up Philip isn’t sure he’ll last another minute. 

“Trev,” he gasps, gripping his shoulder hard enough that he almost feels bad. “Fuck, fuck.” Yeah. Philip’s really articulate when he chooses to be. He wants Trevor inside him, wants to be inside Trevor. He doesn’t care where, exactly, he just knows that he needs to be closer, deeper, needs to feel their bodies blur into one, but right now he isn’t spending particularly long dissecting that thought. He’s got time. 

“‘Salright,” Trevor murmurs, as if he knows exactly what Philip’s thinking. “I got you, man.” 

Philip feels himself tremble and tip, bliss rolling up through his spine. He might be saying Trevor’s name, might be cursing, or the sounds might be just that; wordless and primal and torn from deep within him. Trevor works him through the high, and as the electricity coursing through Philip cools to static, his hand slows and finally withdraws to rest on his stomach. They don’t speak for a moment, their breathing and the ticking of the clock the only sounds in the room. Philip doesn’t look down, he knows his stomach is a mess, and chooses instead to turn towards Trevor. 

The engineer grins, then drops his eyes pointedly to Philip’s stomach. He feels his cheeks heat, but before he can say or do anything Trevor is bending and sliding down the mattress and Philip thinks he knows what he’s about to do but he doesn’t know what he thinks about what Trevor is about to do. Then his tongue is flicking over Philip’s abdomen and his skin is twitching, a small sound that’s half shock and half pleasure catching in his throat. Problem solved, he supposes. 

“Alright?” Trevor asks as he withdraws. 

Philip just nods, pushing himself to sit up. Trevor smiles and leans closer, his lips soft and gentle against Philip’s. This kiss is almost chaste, reassurance and a kind of confirmation (of what, Philip isn’t sure) all at once. He’s only too happy to reciprocate, his body pleasantly warm and heavy and buzzing with Trevor, Trevor, Trevor, whose chest is pressing against his own. 

Philip pulls him closer, hands sliding over the smooth muscle of his arms and shoulders, cupping the back of his neck as he slips his tongue into Trevor’s mouth. He can taste himself on the other guy’s tongue, a thought that has his brain spinning excitedly out of control and his stomach launching into an olympic level acrobatics routine. Does Trevor like the warm saltiness still clinging to his tongue? Is that what Trevor would taste like? God, Philip wants to find that out. 

Gently, he shifts and nudges at Trevor’s shoulder until he gets the message (faster than Philip had earlier) and lets him push him onto the mattress. His legs fall apart easily when Philip pushes his own between them, and when he moves and his thigh comes into contact with Trevor’s crotch he practically arches off the bed. Philip stifles a laugh. 

“Something funny?” Trevor asks, eyebrow raised when he ceases his assault on his mouth to look at him. But he’s smiling. Flushed, eyes dark and shining, lips swollen and pink and still parted as he breathes hard, but smiling. Philip can feel his brain going into overdrive to store that image perfectly. 

“No,” Philip shrugs, letting his eyes trail lower over Trevor’s torso (the guy has actual abs, which Philip is going to be thinking about for a long time). 

“No? What’s that look for?” 

He debates it for a moment, then, “I’m memorising.” 

Trevor frowns. “Memorising what?” 

Philip presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You.” He pushes his leg firmly in between Trevor’s, basking in the breathy little moan it draws from him, “That.” 

“Fuck, Philip,” he whispers as Philip moves his hand down his side to his hip, across the faint V under his belly button to skirt the waistband of his pants (why the fuck is he still wearing pants?). Philip isn’t even sure if he means to do it, but Trevor’s grinding against his leg and looking up at him like he’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He thinks he might just cum again, right here right now. 

“Can I?” he asks, already dipping his fingers below the line of fabric. 

“Yeah, yeah sure.” Trevor seems almost surprised by the suggestion, as if it’s the last thing he expected. 

Philip pauses, frowns. “You sure?” 

This time, Trevor’s voice is firmer. “I’m sure, Philip.” 

Philip nods, breath hitching in his throat. Trevor’s eyes are fixed on his hands, but he can’t look away from the engineer’s face. He gets Trevor’s pants undone, pulls them down, finally tears his gaze from Trevor’s flushed cheeks and wide eyes and parted lips and— 

“Jesus, Trev.” There’s a sizeable wet spot on Trevor’s underpants, the outline of his cock clear and hard and fuck, the dude is big. Philip’s mouth waters.

Trevor doesn’t seem to know what to say to that (which is doing things for Philip that he doesn’t want to even begin to address), but it doesn’t matter. Philip eases his underwear off, and, softly and with plenty of opportunity for Trevor to stop him, wraps his fingers around his length. 

“This ok?” he asks, watching Trevor’s face carefully. 

“Yeah—” Trevor’s voice cracks, and he tries again. “Yeah, that’s… that’s good.” 

“This?” Philip moves his hand, ignoring the little thrill that goes through him as his fingers come into contact with the moisture already gathered on Trevor’s tip. 

“Yeah.” 

“How about this?” Philip squeezes, watching Trevor’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and his head fall back as he whispers something that sounds like a “yes”, and holy shit has he got a jawline. He’d almost be jealous if he wasn’t so caught up admiring Trevor like this. If he wasn’t so far gone on him. If he wasn’t busy sliding down Trevor’s body, his face now level with his hand. 

“This?” 

“F—fuck,” Trevor gasps as Philip licks the tip of his dick, head whipping up to stare at him. 

He pauses, waiting. “Ok?” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s… that’s fine.” Trevor’s throat moves as he swallows. “You don’t have to, though.” 

“I want to,” he shrugs. “Do you want me to?” 

Trevor nods fast enough that in any other situation it would be comical, and Philip can’t help but smile. He bends, places a soft kiss at the junction of Trevor’s hip, then licks him again. 

Trevor moans, his hand drifting up to wind through Philip’s hair. 

Philip just smiles and flicks his tongue over the sensitive slit. 

“Stop teasing,” Trevor whispers. 

“I’m not.” 

“You are,” he protests. “It’s not fair.” 

“Fine,” Philip shrugs, and before Trevor can say anything else he’s opening his mouth, relaxing his tongue and taking Trevor as deep as he can. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, his fingers tightening momentarily in Philip’s hair. “Oh, you— Jesus.” 

The room could collapse right now and Philip wouldn’t notice. His senses are narrowed and focussed to the hot weight of Trevor’s cock in his mouth, the smell of his sweat and skin and his own spit (not pleasant, not exactly, but addictive nonetheless), his half stifled moan and the faint saltiness of precum. His hand works what doesn’t fit in his mouth, slow and firm and sliding easily with his makeshift spit-lube. His tongue swirls around Trevor’s cock, mapping every curve and ridge and vein. 

Philip raises his eyes as he hollows his cheeks and sucks, relishing the almost-whine that slips from Trevor. Again, he sees the engineer as he had been on the couch — chest heaving, gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, head tipped back and eyes closed. But this is better, because this Trevor — his Trevor — is already looking down at him, biting his lip, the unfairly defined muscles of his stomach tense and moving in time with his rapid breathing. A groan reverberates through his chest, and it’s all Philip can do not to smile. 

“Wish you could see yourself,” Trevor whispers, the hand that isn’t tangled in Philip’s hair twisting the sheets. 

In lieu of speech, he raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re a fucking wet dream, Philip,” he pants, and that is not what he expected to hear. It catches him off guard enough that he falters, his own surprised half moan making Trevor’s hips stutter up against his hand. His mouth. 

“Shit, sorry,” he says quickly, but Philip is shaking his head. Don’t worry. It’s ok. He gives what he thinks is a reassuring suck, his free hand settling on Trevor’s hip — as if he’d be able to do anything if he decided to face fuck him. As if he’d want to. 

Trevor curses again, softly, his eyes not leaving Philip’s face. He’s trying to be gentle, Philip can tell, and he feels something inside him melt because of course he would. Even as he whispers “fuck” like that and moans like that he’s still trying not to hurt him — as if he ever could. Philip doesn’t even know if he’d really care at this point. 

“Hm?” He doesn’t stop, moisture pricking behind his eyes as he relaxes his throat even further and practically swallows Trevor’s dick. His hand is sliding so easily now, slick and a bit messy and maybe it should be gross but nothing is gross with Trevor, who was licking Philip’s cum off his stomach just before and has seen him at his worst and has clasped his shoulder and pushed him through. He moves faster, a little harder, and Trevor’s hips buck up again. Before he can apologise, Philip’s thumb moves in a tiny arc over his hip. He hopes Trevor understands. 

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” he gasps. “Please, Philip, I—” 

He can’t stop himself from moaning, an embarrassingly desperate sound. He could listen to Trevor forever, feel him like this forever, replay the movement of his body and the rough crack of his voice and the delicious tension of his fingers still gripping his hair until the Earth stops spinning. He wants to, future be damned. It’s a feedback loop, Trevor’s body jolting towards him as he tips his head back, Philip’s own need surging hot inside him, and he’s gripping Trevor tighter and taking him deeper, revelling in Trevor’s moans and gasps. 

“Hold on,” he says suddenly, and Philip freezes.

“You alright?” he asks, withdrawing with a wet “pop,” his hand still resting on Trevor’s hip. 

He nods quickly, his hand slipping from Philip’s hair to rest against his jaw. “Yeah, I’m fine. Better than fine.” 

“Ok,” he frowns, “then what’s…?” 

“Do you…” He pauses, thinks, swallows. Tries again. “Do you want to go… further?” 

Philip feels his heartbeat quicken, mind racing with the possibilities. He’s never taken that particular step, but if he wants to with anyone, it’s Trevor. And hell yes he wants to, wants to go as far as is humanly possible and never come back. He’s seen so many variations of further now, he can’t pick what this could possibly be, and not knowing is oddly thrilling. 

“We don’t have to,” Trevor is adding hastily, his hand sliding down to clasp Philip’s shoulder. “It’s ok if you don’t—” 

“I do,” Philip interrupts. “I really, really do, Trev.” 

Trevor nods, shuffles backwards before pushing himself to his knees. Philip follows suit, steadying himself against Trevor’s shoulder. His hair is falling into his face now that Trevor’s not holding it back, and he half wishes he had an elastic band with him. Even if Trevor seems to like putting his hands in it. 

“It’s hot when you do that,” the engineer says as Philip pushes his hair out of his face. 

He arches an eyebrow. “I think you’re biassed.” 

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs, “but I’m not wrong.” 

Philip really needs to learn how to respond to this kind of thing, because at some point simply kissing Trevor isn’t going to be sufficient. But it’s working for now, so he’s got time. Trevor hums softly when he pushes closer, his skin hot in all the places it’s touching Philip’s. Philip cups Trevor’s neck gently but firmly, his tongue sliding easily between Trevor’s parted lips and he wonders if Trevor can still taste himself in Philip’s mouth the way Philip can. He shifts, electric heat surging through him when he feels Trevor’s hardness press against his hip, blood rushing downwards in sympathy. 

Trevor moans, grinding lightly against Philip, the kisses rapidly descending into something too messy to be called a kiss at all by any stringent definition. It’s more like Philip licking into Trevor’s mouth, Trevor licking into his, a whirl of tongues and teeth and lips that somehow has Philip moaning too, striving to get closer to Trevor in any way he can. He knows exactly what he wants now, and, as if Trevor is reading his mind, his hand is sliding down his side and around his hip to rest on his ass. 

“Is—?” 

“Mhm.” Philip gasps as Trevor squeezes, just gently, but God he wants his hands everywhere. If Trevor touches every inch of his skin, he thinks, it still won’t be enough. But damn, this is a good start. 

“Turn around,” Trevor murmurs against his lips, drawing back enough to make eye contact with Philip. 

He doesn’t waste time, as much as it pains him to break away, but when Trevor’s voice is that low, that husky, that raw with want, it’s worth it. Trevor’s hand doesn’t leave his hip, half guiding him as he faces the headboard. 

“Holy shit,” Trevor says, and Philip glances over his shoulder to see the other guy’s eyes locked on the tattoo sprawling across his shoulder blades. “I didn’t know there was more.” 

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs. “Neither did I at first.” He shivers as Trevor runs his hand across the inked skin, tracing the points and whorls of the design. He’d actually forgotten about it, as he does most of the time (until he has to do a double take when he catches sight of it in the mirror), but something about the awe and fascination tingeing Trevor’s expression makes him think that that’s not going to be a problem in the future. 

“Fucking hot,” he proclaims, bending to kiss right between Philip’s shoulder blades. He does it again at Philip’s sigh, then again, then lower. He traces the line of his spine with kisses, fingers curling over his hip, and Philip’s not sure who it is who moves close enough that Trevor’s erection presses against him. Either way, it doesn’t matter because Philip is definitely the one who pushes further back against him, and Trevor is the one who pulls him to do it again. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, because now that he’s feeling the hot hardness and the size of him against his ass, Philip isn’t sure if the spit still coating Trevor’s dick — copious though it may be — will actually be enough. 

“You alright?” Trevor asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Philip.” Trevor rubs his shoulder, gentle but insistent. “Why’re you so tense?” 

Philip sighs, rolls his shoulders, forces them to relax. This is Trevor, who is not going to hurt him, and who he trusts with his life. More than his life. “I’m fine,” he says, “I just… haven’t done this bit before. And you’re kinda big.” 

Trevor chuckles at that, shuffling around so he can see Philip’s face. “That’s ok,” he assures him. “We don’t have to—” 

“I want to.” 

“Then I’ll go slow.” 

That… is actually really reassuring. The tension leaks from Philip, and he offers Trevor a smile. “Ok. Thanks.” 

“You’ll tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?” 

Philip just nods, then Trevor is moving again and he has to twist over his shoulder to catch his smile. He leans into Trevor’s touch as the engineer’s hand skims his arm, his shoulder, his back, up his side and down again to his ass. They move together, slowly and carefully, and Philip feels the last vestiges of his nervousness slide away. 

“Can I?” Trevor asks, fingers slipping lower. His voice is soft, but Philip doesn’t miss the way his breath catches when he nods. Trevor’s fingers are wet with spit, and when he pushes one inside Philip there's only a little resistance. “Ok?” 

Philip nods. It’s an odd sensation, and he isn’t entirely sure if he likes it yet, but he trusts Trevor. He makes himself relax, focusses on Trevor’s free hand where it rests on his hip because he knows he likes that, and lets him move. He doesn’t mind it, he decides, especially when Trevor bends and kisses his shoulder. There’s a bit of pressure, a slight burn and stretch, and now there are two fingers inside him. 

“Ok?” Trevor asks again, and again Philip nods. He’s starting to think that he might like this, and Trevor’s still going slow but now his fingers are curled and yeah, Philip likes this. 

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s good.” 

“You sure?” Trevor whispers against his skin, and this time when he pushes into Philip it really is good.

“Mhm,” he breathes, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Almost involuntarily he rocks his hips back onto Trevor’s hand, and feels the other guy smile. 

“Alright.” He continues for a moment, and Philip’s more than happy with that, but then when his fingers withdraw they go all the way and Philip actually misses the feeling. Misses Trevor inside him, even if it’s just his fingers. He hears Trevor spit, another sound he’s all too familiar with, then something bigger than a finger is poking him and his heart skips a beat. 

“Ready?” Trevor asks. 

Philip swallows and nods for what feels like the millionth time today. “Yeah.” 

Trevor pauses. “Ok, bend over a bit? And maybe…” He pauses, then, “Do you wanna, uh, hold onto something?” 

That’s probably not intended to turn Philip on this much, but it does. He does as Trevor says and leans forward, bracing his hands on the wall, spreading his legs when he feels the pressure of Trevor’s hand between his thighs. “Like this?” he asks. 

Trevor’s voice is husky when he answers. “Yeah, perfect.” Then he’s pushing gently into Philip, who presses his lips together because Trevor feels bigger than he looks. It’s not really painful, and he’s going slow, and the spit lube helps, but it’s still more than his fingers and Philip can’t help the way his breath catches in his throat. 

“I’m alright,” he assures Trevor before he can ask. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, just… gimme a second.” 

“Tell me when.” 

Half of Philip wants to turn around and kiss Trevor for that, the other half wants to shove himself backwards and just take it from there. But he’s got enough of his brain left in his head to know that that would be a terrible idea, so he breathes deeply and waits until the faint burn fades and all that’s left is the pleasant stretch and fullness. “Ok,” he says after a moment, “you can, uh, keep going.” 

He half expects Trevor to do just that and push deeper, but instead he feels him pull out. He spits again, and this time the slide is easier, softer, further. Trevor curses softly, does it again, and now they have a rhythm. It’s slow and measured, careful, and Philip finds that it’s easy to relax into the movement of their bodies, to let Trevor rock into him and just brace against the wall — which is not even bracing anymore, more like stabilising. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Trevor murmurs, the words sending Philip’s mind spinning. 

“So do you,” he replies and revels in the tightening of Trevor’s hand on his hip. This time, when Trevor thrusts into him, he does push back and meets him halfway, something between a gasp and groan falling from his lips. 

“Alright?” Trevor slows just a little, concern clear in his voice. 

Philip thinks he might melt on the spot, but instead he smiles. “I’m fine, Trev. you don’t have to be so… careful.” 

“You sure? Cause I don’t mind. I said I'd go slow.” 

“Well…” Philip pauses, glances over his shoulder. “Can you go a bit harder?”

“Yeah,” Trevor answers, and maybe it’s Philip’s imagination but he sounds a bit breathless. “Sure. Tell me what feels good.” 

Then he’s moving again, pushing deeper than before, and Philip is telling him that that feels good and Trevor is doing it again. It’s not much faster, but it’s somehow more, and Trevor’s gripping his hip damn hard now. Philip hopes he’ll have bruises. 

“Fuck, Trev,” he moans, arching into it, dimly aware of the bedframe squeaking faintly. “Fuck, that’s— that’s fucking great.” 

“Yeah? Not too — ah — fast?” 

“No,” Philip assures him. Then, “Faster?” 

“Shit, ok.” Trevor speeds up, and now he’s hitting something deep inside Philip that has him stumbling over Trevor’s name and pulsing with need. Before he can do anything about that Trevor’s strong arm is sliding around his torso, pulling him back against his chest and his hand is wrapping around Philip’s dick for the second time today as he continues to rearrange his guts. Philip knows he isn’t going to last long. 

“Fucking hell, Trev,” he gasps, because that’s really all he can do. He’s surrounded by Trevor, the engineer’s mouth warm and wet on the skin of his shoulder, his hand firm — just how Philip likes it — around his cock, Trevor’s own cock stroking what feels like every inch of his insides, his warm chest damp with sweat and pressed to Philip’s back. If he died right now he’d go out with a smile on his face, because he’s pretty sure it doesn’t get better than this. 

“Oh God,” Trevor groans. “You feel like fucking Heaven, you know that? You’re Heaven.” 

Philip didn’t know that, but he probably could have guessed from the desperation of Trevor’s combined fist and hips. He feels the words against his shoulder, feels Trevor’s warm breath stirring his hair and it must be all that damned football because he hasn’t faltered once. Philip can’t wait to make him. “You’re talking,” he manages, but any impact it might have had is lost in the unsteadiness of his voice. Maybe he’s still sensitive from his earlier orgasm, maybe it’s just that this is so much more intense, but he can already feel the tight coil of pleasure building low inside him. 

“Yeah, I’m — fuck, Philip — I’m talking.” He gives a particularly hard thrust, and it’s all Philip can do not to collapse right then and there. Trevor is going to be the death of him, and he’s going to say thank you when it happens. 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads — fucking pleads. “Shit, Trev, don’t stop.” 

“‘M not,” Trevor pants. “Don’t worry, I’m not fucking stopping.” And he isn’t. If anything, he’s going harder. “I’m— shit, fuck, fuck, Philip I’m gonna— Philip, where do I—?” 

Oh, is all Philip can think. “In me,” he blurts, because protocol 4 isn’t going to be a problem and this is the 21st century. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Fuck, Trevor I’m so— I’m gonna—” 

Trevor is groaning deeply, spilling hot and thick inside Philip and with that, white hot bliss explodes through his body. He’s dimly aware of Trevor’s chest heaving against his back, his own name being chanted like a prayer, an incantation, and Philip’s never loved the sound of it more than he does right now. Right now it really is his name, and he knows he’s never coming back from this, and that he doesn’t want to. He thinks he says Trevor’s, too, over and over and punctuated with curses, but how is he supposed to do anything else when it feels like this? 

Trevor’s movements slow eventually until they stop altogether, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing and the rustle of the sheets and Trevor pulls out and flops onto the mattress. Philip mourns the loss of the feeling of fullness for a moment as he adjusts to the sudden emptiness, forcing his arms to unlock and relax, his legs to shift — he hadn’t realised they were shaking, but now that he has he can’t stop it — and collapses next to Trevor. 

“God, Philip,” he whispers to the ceiling, then raises his head and smiles. 

“You alright?” Philip asks. Idly, he traces a circle over Trevor’s heart. 

“I am so alright,” he sighs, breathes a laugh, turns to lie on his stomach and looks at Philip over the muscle of his arm. “You?” 

Philip smiles too, his whole body heavy and satisfied. “So alright,” he echoes softly, and if he wasn’t so completely boneless he’d lean over, press his lips to Trevor’s, soft and careful. Instead, he stretches out alongside Trevor. He can feel his cum leaking out of him, and the rational part of his brain says that’s gross and he should clean it up — along with the mess on his stomach. The irrational part of his brain that had his heart speeding up when he watched Trevor lick him clean earlier says it’s hot. Either way, Philip is not getting out of this bed any time soon. 

“What?” 

He blinks, jerks out of his thoughts. Trevor is frowning, still turned towards him and close enough that when Philip extends his pinkie finger it meets warm skin. “Nothing,” he says. Then, because he’s not brave enough to say what he really means, “Do you wanna stay?” 

The wrinkle disappears from between Trevor’s brows and he pretends to think. “Do I wanna get up, get dressed, walk up the loft stairs and try to go to sleep by myself while I know you’re down here?” He scoffs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe to him it is. But he still asks, “Do you want me to?” 

“I just want you,” Philip breathes. It doesn’t quite sound right and he’s not even sure if it’s really what he wants to say, but it’s close enough.

“You just had me.” 

“No,” he sighs, “I mean this. I want this.”

“Oh.” Trevor’s face softens. “Right. Well, you’ve got it, Philip.” Slowly, he wriggles his hand close enough to lace his fingers with Philip’s and pulls their hands towards himself, lips brushing his knuckles. Philip thinks his heart is going to burst, and since when is he such a sap? Must be something about Trevor that makes his brain fly out the window. 

He slips his hand from Trevor’s to run it down the curve of his spine like he’d wished he could this morning, mapping every vertebrae as if the world is depending on it. And maybe his is. He watches the smooth motion of muscle and bone and ligaments and skin as Trevor shifts infinitesimally closer, mesmerised by the simultaneous complexity and simplicity of the movement. The dying light cascades over Trevor’s back and neck, glancing off his hair, pooling on his cheek, catching on his eyelashes as he blinks and suddenly he understands artists. 

Philip has always appreciated art in a practical sense (if there is one), as a historian, admired the richness and depth of the maker’s mark on the world, their cry to be seen and remembered. But in that moment Philip understands the need to capture and render, share, immortalise. For the first time, he doesn’t know if his memory is enough to hold Trevor as he is now, smiling softly and extending his arm, his own hand sliding over Philip's torso. He blinks and the feeling fades enough that he can move to accommodate the engineer as he shuffles across the space between them and drapes his body over Philip’s, lips pressing oh so gently to his pulse point before he lays his head over his heart. Philip knows he’ll never be able to capture this, and for a moment he wonders if how much is lost is equal to how much is preserved. If it’s greater. If it’s less. He swallows, turns and kisses Trevor’s temple, decides it doesn’t matter. He has this now, and he is determined to take it for all that it’s worth. 

“Memorising?” 

“What?” 

Trevor shrugs, shifting closer still. “Are you memorising me again?” 

Philip can’t begin to explain, but Trevor’s on the right track so just smiles and says, “yeah,” sliding his arm around his shoulders and holding him close. 

“Me too.” The engineer's body jerks with a soft chuckle, but he presses against Philip anyway, his breathing deep and even and his arm heavy across Philip’s chest. Then, “Can’t believe you’ve just been walking around with this.”

Philip cranes his neck, looking down at where Trevor is staring at his chest. Or rather, his piercing. He almost laughs because of course that’s what Trevor’s stuck on. 

“Doing missions with a ring through your nipple,” he goes on. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

“That’d be a weird conversation,” he snorts. “‘Hey Trev, wanna see this random bit of metal through my fucking nipple?’” Because Philip is aware that it’s weird, and that’s part of the reason he hadn’t exactly shown it off. Not that he would have had any excuse to, or wanted to, but still. 

Trevor tsks. “Yeah, but… I don’t know. Does it hurt?” 

“Uh… no?” He thinks for a minute, frowns. “Sometimes, a little. Sometimes I forget it’s there and it gets stuck on stuff.” 

“Jesus. 21st century, man, I’m telling you.” 

“Yeah. I know.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Trevor’s lips are pressing against his chest and he’s whispering, “I still think it’s hot as fuck,” and Philip, despite himself, is smiling. Whatever he sees in other timelines, and whatever else happens, he’s glad he exists here and now. He’s glad he woke up, and he’s glad he’ll wake up tomorrow — and this time it won’t be to an illusion.

Note: guys I'll be real for a sec I have no idea if this is any good. It feels ok right up until butt stuff gets involved so maybe this is a sign that gay porn specifically isn't my calling and I should just stick to YN shit (which is so sad cause I wanna write destiel smut and I wanna write more about these two silly little dudes). I wrote this originally where Philip just sucked Trevor off and they called it a day but it just genuinely did not feel right and it would not leave me alone and it just kept playing out in my head (something) like this so I wrote it and I'm not feeling the itch anymore but what I am feeling is really unsure. Any feedback at all would be so so appreciated (I feel like that ant with the bindle)

[sea-owl]

About to expose myself a little bit but I don't care.

So back in my fanfiction.net days there was a certain flavor of How to Train your Dragon aus that I really enjoyed. There was only like two and to my knowledge both remain unfinished to this day but for some reason they were my favorites.

The fics were hybrid dragon x human romance with Hiccup being the human and Astrid being the hybrid, usually half night fury and Toothless' sister. Two outcasts coming together. They both had the premis that the night Hiccup was supposed to shoot down Toothless Astrid takes that place as the one who gets shot down with either her tail fin being gone or a damaged wing. Up for debate if Toothless is with her or finds her later. Like I said there was like and both were unfinished but I want to throw some thoughts into this au as well.

So, to start, I would set up Astrid's birth as like she's the byproduct of the gods messing with mortal lives. Say her mom, let's call her Hilda, was from House Hofferson and a shield maiden who had no intentions to marry and unknowingly rejected a god. The god wanting revenge curses her to temporarily fall in love with one of her village's greatest enemies, and that one night affair led to her being pregnant. In shame, Hilda fled before anyone else could no.

During her time away Hilda gave birth to a baby girl who many would say is cursed. Born with patches of black scales on her body, black wings, tail fins attached to the sides of her legs, ears like the night fury on top of her head, and pupils that change like a dragons there was no hidding the baby girl's paternity. Though she did inheirt from her mother as well, she was bipedal like her mother, having all ten fingers and toes even if they were covered in scales, her mama's blonde hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes.

Hilda wanted nothing to do with her baby, and the last thing she gave her was her name, Astrid.

Astrid was taken in by her father, who had a son already. They taught her all they knew about being a dragon. Eventually, their father passes, and Toothless and Astrid stay together.

Now, this is where I might differ from the others. Because a part of me wants to go the route where Astrid and Toothless get caught in the Red Death's nest and Astrid escapes while Toothless stays behind to ensure she survives. I also want to add Stormfly into their little family because I love her and Astrid's relationship, and I ship her with Toothless, so yes, I'm gonna be self-indulgent. Stormfly escapes with Astrid, carrying the hatching on her back since this point in time she was much faster than Astrid.

The two of them eventually find their way to Valka's sanctuary, who, over the years, teaches Astrid about her human half. From Valka Astrid learns how to talk in a human language instead of just dragonese, she learns to read and write, her numbers, and much more a child her age should know. Years pass, and Astrid can't sit still anymore she has to find her brother. Valka advises against it but Astrid has to go.

It was during that fateful raid that Astrid once again was reunited with her brother but they both get tangled up in a bola and shot out of the sky.

A viking hatchling frees them, and her brother pins him to the ground. He roars at the viking hatchling, and they both fly off or attempt to. Astrid was mostly protected by her brother during the fall and her wing ended up sprained. Easy fix she could do. It was her brother's tail she didn't know what to do. No tail fin means no flight.

The viking hatchling finds them the next day. Astrid thinks he looks a bit like Auntie. He's certainly curious though. He won't leave but he's also not doing any harm, well more harm than he already did.

Astrid nearly gives poor Hiccup heart failure the first time she speaks Norse to him.

Or place Toothless and Astrid's reunion after the first movie. Toothless is gonna try matchmaking his sister and new brother. He thinks Astrid and Hiccup would he perfect mates. Astrid tries to foil this plan by pretending to be more dragon than what she really is. Toothless know she's lying. Astrid gives herself away when Hiccup catches her editing the book of dragons.

Either way Astrid gonna be a proper little sister and make fun of her brother's new name when she learns Hiccup named him Toothless.

[yallemagne]

Instead of sleeping or doing anything else productive, I'm gonna talk about Monster High.

So like. We all know. About the new generation. I'm gonna get out all my complaining here: wahhhh I don't liiiike it, it's not like the original!!

Okay, that's done. What can we do about it? Nothing. But I can DREAM.

So in the shower, I was just thinking: "This doesn't feel like Monster High. It feels like a yuppie middle school. This is Monster Middle." and is it mostly just because all the characters look like babies? yeah. Also from what I've seen of it... it feels like none of the characters are allowed to be mean. If you're gonna set something in high school, where are the catty mean girls?? the bull-headed bullies?

BUT THEN BUT THEN--- so my major problem is that the characters don't really feel like themselves. I would like them better if they were their own original characters, not burdened with the titles of their forefathers.

Forefathers. Foremothers. Foreparents.

Now, picture you are tied to a chair and I'm showing you my corkboard right now.

Imagine how cool it would be if they made the reboot about the children of the originals! So many fusions also!!

The new Cleo is so nice because she's not actually Cleo, she's the daughter of Cleo de Nile and Deuce Gorgon. Hell, you could keep the name if you want, have her be Cleo II, that fits the original Cleo's vanity. Deuce's kind personality mellows out Cleo's diva and we get this character I cannot believe they tried to pass for THE Cleo de Nile ijoergpoi.

The new Draculaura's whole witch thing doesn't really make sense to me and it never will. (especially her apparently being the bio daughter of Dracula now when she was previously adopted-- also Dracula is scared of witches or smth but if you READ THE BOOK HE IS A SORCERER) Buuuut if Draculaura and Clawd had a daughter and she just happened to be into witchcraft, sick dude. Also, even though it's such an obvious fusion I don't think Mattel ever did a Vampire/Werewolf hybrid. Now is the time, people!!

I don't think Clawdeen would really have children of her own? She feels like... a lesbian aunt. She and her wife are career women and shower Draculaura and Clawd's kids with gifts. Maybe Clawdeen's married to a witch and that's why their niece became so enamoured with witchcraft.

New Frankie would be made by Old Frankie in a lab and... with that robo leg... and blue highlights... hear me out... So one time speaking with a friend, we were kinda spitballing who would be a good match for Frankie with her endless line of suitors... I suggested hmmm maybe Robecca Steam?? I just think it'd be neat! Imagine them married and in the lab piecing together their perfect child ahhhh. Cute?? Right??

It's not a perfect solution because we have so many characters to reckon with. Maybe some drama from older fans mad that their pairing is not canon... but that's just already true. So many ships, characterizations, and backstories have been scrapped :(((.

like... not all of my thoughts can fit into this post but CAN YOU BELIEVE THEY ERASED MY SONS JACKSON AND HOLT??? and made Clawdeen half-human (bitch werewolves are already half-human what the fuck) so they could slap Jackson's/Holt's conflict onto her. They couldn't handle my sons' autistic swagger.

[alexandersimpleton]

Cursed

When Prez finds Frederick in the woods, cursed and hurt, she plans to fix him up and make him his family's problem as soon as humanly possible.

Prez starts to realize quickly, however, that sending him back may not be the best idea.

Prez was just wandering through the woods at this point. The club had all been dancing, it had been fun, and then Prez heard a rustling in the woods. She had wandered off to make sure it wasn't a bear or something, and here she was.

Honestly, she thought, if it was an animal than it had certainly run off. Even abush predators didn't take this long to attack their prey.

Prez was about to find her way back when she heard breathing. Breathing so quite that a pain drop would drown it out. And it was nearby.

Prez silently decided to pray she wasn't in a horror novel as she checked behind a tree. But it wasn't a monster. It was a kid, looking to be barely 16. He had blond hair, sticking every way at once, and his eyes were so green she swore she could see them even when the boy blinked.

There were also some.. less human attributes. A long, thin tail swished back and forth, his eyes were wide and dilated, his arms ended with sharp claws rather than human hands and his legs were digitigrade, kind of like a cat's without fur.

Prez didn't really notice any of that. She noticed that he was scared. He tried to get up, but winced, cradling a nasty gash. He tried to back away from her, but he couldn't get away before Prez grabbed his wrist.

"Whoa whoa whoa, I don't wanna hurt you you." Prez sputtered, panicked, as she grabbed the boy. "Let's all just calm down."

The teen tried to yank his wrist away. "L-let go of me!" But he quickly realized the effort was fruitless.

Prez realized something too. Green eyes, messy hair... This was Frederick.

Prez's hand unconsciously clenched harder upon the realization. The act caused the boy's ragged breathing to return, so she tried her best to relax it again.

"Oh, kid, I- uh.." Prez sputtered before mumbling "you know what lying never ends well" and decided to just play it straight. "Look, kid. I don't like you. I don't like you, or what you did to my friend."

Frederick's eyes got wider as he wondered what she'd do to him. "But that's no excuse to leave you out here to die. Come on." The woman lifted him up, giving him her back to lean on. "We're gonna make sure you're all right here, and then we're gonna get you back to your family.

As Frederick staggered, he asked a question. "What did I do to your friend, exactly? I'm sorry, I just don't know who you are and-"

Prez frankly didn't know how he'd react to the news. Maybe he'd be a cackling misogynist psychopath, but now that she had met the boy for more than a singular second she doubted that.

She at first decided to take it show before a realization struck her. "Uhm, you're Frederick, right? Of the plaid kingdom?" "Oh, uhm yeah?" "Okay good. That would have been embarrassing if you were someone else." The two both laughed a bit.

Anyways, back on track. "So, do you.. do you remember that wake you went to yesterday? With the pastel princesses?"

Frederick groaned and slammed his head into Prez's shoulder. "Oh yeah, that dumpster fire."

"What do you mean, dumpster fire?"

"Okay, here we go. Long story short, me and my brothers were supposed to marry these girls, I thought mine was beautiful, turns out I was looking at the wrong princess, I tried to go home to process everything but my family didn't let me, me and Blaine got in this fight, I said something about that princess that I'm really glad she didn't hear and then I had a panic attack in a bathroom. As I said. Dumpster fire." The boy paused for a moment, before realizing one last piece. "Oh, and apparently some witch heard that, somehow, and now I'm stuck like this." Frederick waved his tail in front of the woman.

"Well, uhm, you know how you said you were glad Gwen didn't hear that."

Frederick let out a long sigh. "Let me guess, she did and I hurt her feelings way more than I thought I would?"

"Bingo."

"God damn it."

Prex only heard defeatedness in his voice. Had this happened multiple times? Had Frederick done nothing to stop hurting people?

"Does- does you family just let you get away with this?" That was the only question Prez could ask.

Frederick panicked to correct the misunderstanding. "What!? No, I'm not some spoiled brat or anything, I'm just an autistic freak with the social skills of a senile earth worm! Look" Frederick stumbled forward enough for Prez to see his face. "The mark is still there." There was a red patch on the boy's cheek, slightly faded now but still clearly in the shape of a hand.

His family didn't let him just walk off scot free, but somehow Prez was left more disturbed than if they had.

They faded off into silence after that. That was until Frederick thought of one last thing to say.

"If you know Gwen, than.. am I really just being dramatic? Blaine says I'm just being a baby and that Gwen is a sweet girl, but I still don't.. I don't want her to hurt me-"

Frederick cut himself off as the finally entered the clearing, in which Curtis had seemingly been waiting. He took one look at the gash on Frederick's leg and took him straight to the infirmary, leaving Prez with a sense of dread in her stomach. A familiar sense of dread.

But Prez had to talk to the club. They had stopped dancing, and now stared curiously at the drops of blood that were left on the grass. Gwen in particular looked conflicted. Prez walked to the front of the ground to explain.

"Okay. Guys. Don't freak out, but that was prince Frederick." The club promptly freaked out. "Everyone calm down!" Prez yelled. "Look. I'm just as upset as you guys are, but the only alternative was leaving him to bleed out in the middle of the woods." Some CPC members still grumbled, but most ultimately agreed that taking him here was the right choice. "Now," Prez smiled "that doesn't mean we can't mess with him a bit." The club erupted into cheers, save Gwen, because Gwen. "Mess with him all you want, but there are three rules. One, don't touch him. He's already hurt pretty bad, we don't want to make it worse, Abbi. Two, don't like, bully bully him. Just because he's a bad person doesn't give us an excuse to stoop to his level. Three, only one or two people are allowed in there at a time. Crowding might lead to accidents, and none of us want him here longer than he has to be. Everyone got that?"

The crowd all said yes.

"Cool. Than, go nuts."

Most of the club continued their activity, not really wanting to associate with Frederick. A few chatted about him behind his back, which was ironic. Gwen however, went into the CPC building, not to see Frederick, but to do something in the kitchen.

That sinking feeling him her stomach was still there, so Prez figured she had to acknowledge it some time. So she went to the infirmary to talk to Frederick. He was lying down with gauze on his leg.

"Hey, kid."

"Uhm, hi? Why are you here? Didn't you not like me?"

"Yeah, and I still don't, but I've gotta make some things clear. About that question, the one I never got to answer. I know Gwen pretty well by this point, and I happen to know she's the sweetest girl you'll ever meet." Frederick couldn't help his face dropping a bit. He was glad he wasn't engaged to a witch, but somehow that was overshadowed by that familiar shame. "But if you get to see that for yourself, that should be your choice. If you choose to keep your distance, even after all this is is over, than I won't stop you."

Frederick looked up at the woman with what could only be described as wonder. "Thanks. I know you said you didn't like me, but I think I like you a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah you just.. you just make me feel like I matter." A soft smile, so small it could hardly be noticed, dropped from Frederick's face. "When I tried to stand up to my father and refuse the marriages he.. he put a knife to my throat." Prez startled, little to Frederick's notice, and started to realize why he was so jumpy when they had first met. "He said that I should "show my devotion to her her or he'd.. y'know..."

Prez put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Your father was wrong."

Frederick nodded, seemingly unconvinced.

Before Prez could say anything else, the door opened, revealing Gwen. The girl looked at Prez, than at Frederick. She was holding a bowl of something.

"Uhm, hi, Frederick. Prez said you got hurt so I made this. I hope it helps." The girl passed Frederick the bowl, which he realized was full of piping hot soup. He hesitated for a moment. He looked at Prez, than at Gwen.

When the boy took a bite he felt warm. It wasn't the burning he felt when Leland or Blaine hit him. It wasn't the shame he felt when he messed up in front of Blaine. It wasn't the acid he felt in his heart when Leland threw a snide comment, or even that fire he felt when Lance got too into training. It was a warmth he couldn't describe. One he hadn't felt before.

Prez smiled at him, and suddenly all of it was gone. Frederick felt drowsy now.

"By the way, I'm sorry for what I said." Frederick looked at the girl, seemingly about to leave, as she tensed up. "Prez said I really hurt your feelings. I didn't really consider you'd take that to heart. Sorry."

Gwen looked back at him sadly. "It's.. it's alright." And then she left.

Prez turned to Frederick, smiling. "Thanks for giving her a chance. You're not so bad kid."

"M hm." Frederick unconsciously leaned on the woman. Part of him registered he should be surprised she wasn't shoving him off and calling him some bad name, but frankly he couldn't bring himself to be.

"Also, you're not a freak."

As Frederick drifted off, he finally realized what that warm feeling was. It was love.

Frederick woke up groggy. He didn't know what year it was. Maybe that soup was poisoned.

He heard two people. One was Prez, and he didn't recognize the other.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes..."

Frederick cracked open his eyes. The man he didn't recognize wore the kind of doctor attire he'd see in one of his kids books.

Frederick sat up in his bed, causing both the adults to look over to him. "I'm up. What are we talking about?"

The two looked at each other. "I can tell him." Prez told the doctor. The man nodded. "I'll get him a glass of water then. He might be dehydrated."

"Okay, so, kid. You know that curse that you got from that witch."

"Yes, I don't see how I could forget." Frederick raised his still inhuman leg.

"Yeah, so, the doctors can't actually cure it."

Frederick's eyes went wide. He stared at Prez, hoping she'd say that it was a joke, but she didn't.

Frederick looked down at his, at least for the foreseeable future, permanently inhuman legs. "I won't be able to go back to my family like this, will I?" The boy brought him legs up to his chest, curling up in a ball.

"Considering how many other long term health issues you had, we weren't doing that anyways." Prez mumbled. No sane adult would let a kid's health get this bad. "Kid, I'm gonna be honest with you. I wasn't going to tell you what this place was so you couldn't rat us out, but that doesn't seem like a problem anymore. So, this place is a support group for people who's curses can't be cursed. And Gwen."

Frederick stared at Prez, confused. "Are- are you serious?" Prez nodded "What are the odds?" "Astronomical. But yeah, you probably couldn't have picked a better place to get cursed. I won't make you stay here with us, but just know it's an option." Frederick nodded as Prez got up to leave the room. Just before she could go, the boy asked "I.. uhm.. could you get me a book? It's fine if you don't want to you're already doing a lit my keeping me here but just-"

"Sure. Anything you got in mind?"

"I, uhm, I like fairy tales. If that's alright..."

"Sure thing kid."

[anisstories]

I Don't Want This

Chapter 6

The Next Morning

When Y/N awoke in the morning, she panicked, she didn’t know this room, and then she turned around. There was Anakin asleep, the sun shining on his face. His hair seemed to become even more golden. Y/N still felt tipsy. She looked at the foot of the bed and there were her clothes. It was 5 in the morning and no sound was heard. I doubt anyone’s awake, I’ll change, leave a note, and get a cab to the company. Shit, how strong is a Flameout? I'm falling back into a drunken state. Before that could happen she stood up, put her clothes on, went to Anakin’s desk grabbed a post-it, and started to right:

Hey Anakin,

I didn’t want to wake you up. Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Sorry for being such a bother. I promise I will never drink when you're around.

Next time I see you we'll be "happily married".

Warm Regards,

Y/N

Heiress to the Aridam Empire XD.

Anakin awoke to the sound of shuffling in his room. He turned around and saw Y/N writing something on a sticky note. The events of last night came to his mind. WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE? I should have kicked her out yesterday. She'll pay at this moment. Anakin got out of bed and stalked over to her. Y/N turned around only to be met with Anakin's bare chest. His pectorals glistened in the sunlight. "Hey, sorry I didn't mean to wake you. I was just about to leave. Sorry for-" "Last night I brought you into my home and you know who saw? Padmé. You already ruined my relationship. So you're going to stay here and we're going to be caught sleeping together. I don't care if your dignity is at stake." Anakin said as he pushed Y/N onto the bed. "Strip" Anakin said his voice and face were void of emotion. "w-what do you m-mean strip?" "Strip. Don't make me repeat myself." She felt a weight next to her. "I don't want to touch your disgusting body. So strip and go back to sleep. If you don’t I’m going to have to strip you myself, and you won’t like that." Y/N felt so embarrassed but she started stripping, fearing what Anakin would do if she disobeyed. She hesitated when she reached her panties. "Keep your underwear on." He opened the comforter for her. She stepped in, her back facing his chest, and felt Anakin's arms wrap around her bare waist. She felt so vulnerable in only her bra and panties. She knew that if someone walked in she would face the biggest embarrassment of her life. She started to squirm, to get away. But his grip tightened. "I said go to sleep," he growled. Anakin wasn't human anymore. He had gone feral. The love of his life was probably lost and all because of this stupid girl that laid next to him.

There was no going through to him. He roughly turned Y/N around. "Stop squirming. You said you'd follow my lead, so do it." He pulled her closer. Y/N started hitting his chest, muttering I hate you. Anakin grabbed her wrists. "Stop" his voice an octave lower. Y/N stopped. I hate you too, Y/N. Once we get married, I'll make your life a living hell. Anakin started to rub her back. Trying to get her to sleep. He wanted this to seem natural. He finally heard light snoring from Y/N. He went to grab his phone but feared the messages he would find there. He placed it back and started playing with Y/N's hair to help him fall asleep.

At 7 there was a knock at his door. Y/N jolted but Anakin held her tighter. He pulled the comforter low enough to reveal his bare chest and Y/N's bra. Then he heard Owen's voice "If I don't hear shuffling in 1 second I'm coming in." Of course it had to be this asshole. He grabbed Y/N's chin and started nuzzling into her neck. This caused Y/N to start whimpering. "You’re a piece of shit, you know that?" she said as she tried to push him away. “So I’ve heard” he mumbled. Anakin got tired of getting pushed away, so he flipped them over. He was hovering above her. Y/N’s arms got tired so he just pulled them to her side. This caused the comforter to fall off the bed. Owen walked in to see Anakin on top of Y/N. "Oh Maker. Fuck. Oh shit, I'm so sorry." Owen stuttered. "Can you stop staring at MY girl?" Anakin growled. "I wasn't staring at her. I was staring at you. Are you that insatiable?" Owen started laughing. "What do you - " and Anakin groans. Y/N accidentally brushed her leg against Anakin's groin and he felt a strong surge of pleasure coarse through his body. Shit, I was supposed to be mad. Not get turned on. "USE PROTECTION KIDS '' Owen closed the door and Anakin’s alarm clock hit it. He could hear Owen's laughter down the hall.

Y/N looked at Anakin’s sweatpants. There was a large bulge in them. When I brushed against it, his face contorted, I think it was out of pain. Y/N started brushing her knee against it. Anakin's eyes nearly popped out of his socket. "Mm..stop." Anakin was becoming less mad. Fuck this is bad... "No, this is payback for this morning." Y/N started brushing faster and harder. "Y-Y/N, h-hold o-o-oh Fuck!" Anakin spit. He fell on top of her chest. Y/N would've been mad. But when he fell onto her chest she had better access to that spot. Anakin started thrusting his hips into her knee. Y/N's name falling out of his lips. At this moment Y/N realized he hadn't groaned out of pain, he had groaned out of pleasure. So she pulled her knee away. Anakin's hips thrust into the air. Y/N heard Anakin moan out in pain. "Y-you, you’re a bitch" he growled. “Says the guy who forced me to strip.” She tried to get up only to fail, as Anakin had a death grip on her waist. "Hey let go," Y/N grumbled. Anakin refused. His breathing was labored and his forehead had a layer of sweat. "It hurts. Give me a fucking second!” he yelled. Y/N rolled her eyes, muttered I hope you die of pain and reached for her phone, or that’s what she thought at least. When she opened “her” phone she saw a bunch of messages.

Anakin I can’t believe you did that.

I fucking knew it. You’re a piece of shit.

I hope you get thrown into a ditch.

I can’t believe you got with my best friend.

I hope you both die.

We are done.

Don’t look or try to talk to me.

Y/N dropped the cellphone. It fell on Anakin’s head. “I’m already in pain and you dropped a cellphone on my head. I fucking hate you.” as he looked up he saw Y/N looking at him with guilty eyes. “I thought that was my phone and I read the messages Padme sent you. I’m sorry I fucked up your relationship,” she mumbled. “What do they say?” he asked, his tone cold and detached. Y/N started to read aloud the messages and Anakin felt his heart crack piece by piece. “Oh well, it was bound to happen,” he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. “How can you say that? I mean you have her as LOML on your contacts. You said you were gonna get us out of it and suddenly you're okay with getting married to me?” she said. “You don’t even feel a tiny bit sad. Don’t you want to scream or cry? If that was me I'd be very outraged." Y/N looked out the window. "Can you be logical? You think we were going to convince our parents. That was a false hope Y/N. They were gonna force us to get married. Padme isn't the type to share her boyfriend so its end was inevitable anyway." Anakin grumbled. I can't make her life miserable. She is suffering just as much as I am. I mean Y/N's here saying sorry for ruining my relationship. And it wasn't even her fault. I should be the one on my knees begging for forgiveness. I forced her to strip. Anakin got up and knelt before her. "Huh?! Anakin what are you doing?" She asked as she sat up. "I'm sorry. I was just so mad and so sad that I had lost Padme. I lost all human decency and forced you to strip. I'm sorry. I know that's not enough but I'm afraid that's all I have." Anakin's voice cracked. He was so ashamed of what he'd done.

Y/N felt bad. She knew he had done those things out of rage, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt her. She reached for his arm and pulled him up. “It’s okay, I know you did them out of rage.” Anakin’s face lit up, he was so happy he could hug her, as he was about to, she opened her mouth. “But, can I ask you for a favor?” She asked. Anakin blankly looked at her. She panicked and spoke up “I’m sorry, never mind, I just-” “Hey, I didn’t even answer. What is your request?” Anakin grabbed onto her shoulders. “I was wondering if you could convince my father to let me finish my Master's?” She asked while looking at her lap. “I don't know if I could convince your Father” Y/N’s eyes started to get sad, “But I can convince my father to pay your college tuition and you can go secretly.” Y/N jumped up and into Anakin’s arms. He lost his balance so before he fell he pushed himself onto the bed. His cheek falling against her lips. “Oh damn, I smeared your lipstick.” “It’s fine.” Y/N started to giggle. “Thank you, Anakin,” she smiled so brightly and softly, but she was also crying, his heart fluttering. “Yea, no problem.” Anakin's voice sounded wistful, but Y/N didn’t hear it, she was too busy swimming in his clear blue eyes. “I never noticed,” Y/N whispered. Anakin hummed, asking her to continue. “Your eyes, they look like a lake.” she giggled. “They are pretty. If you looked up at the sun, your eyes would probably glitter like a real lake.” Anakin felt so flustered. No one ever complimented his eyes. Well, they had, but not in the way Y/N had. It was always nice eyes. You probably get all the chick with those eyes. “Thank you, your eyes are pretty too.” “Your E/C eyes lit up. “They get all bright and shimmery when you're excited about something. They get dull when you’re sad or frustrated. When you get embarrassed they glitter more than they’re supposed to.” Anakin started leaning in. The moment was shattered when they heard a commotion downstairs.

Taglist

@songbirdcannabe

@blondekel77

Note:

My summer classes have started so I will begin to post on Mondays. Thank you for understanding.

[jay-zzz87]

Prompt: Luz comes back

I feel angsty today so have some hard written angst. I tried not to hold back so if you cry, whoops. Don't worry, there's other stuff at the end.

3 years

It's been 3 years since Luz left the demon realm, and now she's making her way back. Camila was stern on when Luz could return, but after some discussions, she allowed Luz to go back after she graduated. Luz was now 18 and ready to go back to the Boiling Isles. Luz couldn't believe it's been 3 years since she left. She grabbed the key from a drawer in her desk and pressed the eye. The portal unfolded and in she went. Luz felt tears in her eyes as she look to the side to find the owl house. She immediately ran to the front, only to be greeted by the infamous bird tube.

Hooty: LUZ

Luz: HOOTY

Hooty wrapped around Luz and squeezed her a bit too hard. He quickly released her and Luz caught her breath.

Hooty: IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU. WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU EVERYDAY. I CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW. THE COOL THINGS I'VE DONE.

Luz: I can't wait to here all about it but where's Eda and King?

Hooty: THEY'RE INSIDE

Luz swung oppen the door and took a peep inside. The place almost looked abandoned. She walk in and the lights suddenly came on.

Everyone: SURPRISE

Luz screamed. She didn't expect to see everyone in the house.

Luz: Hi everyone. You almost scared me to death.

Eda: Sorry kid, we just wanted to give you a warm welcome.

Luz rushed over to hug everyone. She noticed that all was here except for one person.

Luz: Hey guys, where's Amity.

Willow and Gus looked a each other nervously.

Willow: She's...uh...busy.

Luz: Of course she is. What's she up to?

Willow: She still does abomination magic

Willow looked over at Gus for help.

Gus: She's better at it

Luz could sense something was wrong, but didn't really question it.

Luz: Is there a chance that I could see her

Gus: NO

Luz stared at Gus who just realized he might've made the situation worse.

Willow: She's probably really busy and doesn't want anyone to bother her. You know how she can get.

Luz: I'm sure she wouldn't mind seeing me though?

Willow and Gus forgot how stubborn Luz can somtimes be. Willow gave in and sighed, hoping she wasn't gonna need to deliver the news.

Willow: Look Luz, I didn't wanna say anything because it's not my place but there is something you should know about Amity.

Luz got worried. Really worried. She started thinking of what horrible things could've happened while she was gone.

Luz: What happened to my Amity. DID SHE DIE?

Willow: NO. No. She didn't die. She's just... engaged.

Luz was stunned. Amity? Engaged? HOW? Luz remembered the promise they made before Luz left.

-Flashback-

Amity was sobbing loudly into Luz's chest. She didn't want to let Luz go. She was too scared too. Luz held onto Amity and tried to calm her down. This wasn't easy for any of them, but they knew this would happen eventually.

Luz: Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean this is goodbye forever. I will always be with you and I promise I'll come back.

Amity: But what if something happens. What if you lose feelings and fall for a human. Or what if you get hurt. I don't wanna lose you.

Luz: You won't lose me. I would never fall for someone in the human world. You will always be my cotton candy haired goddess.

Amity looked up to see Luz's golden eyes. Luz pulled Amity into a long passionate kiss. The two girls savored the kiss, for it felt like it would be their last.

Luz: I love you Amity Blight. Nothing will ever change that

Amity: I love you too, Luz Noceda.

Luz: I promise I'll come back

Amity: I promise I'll never love another.

-flash-forward-

Luz couldn't find the strength to move. She was distraught. Did Amity really move on? No. There has to be an explanation. Right? Luz couldn't feel the hot tears falling on the side of her face. Willow felt terrible. She should've never told Luz about Amity. But she was bound to find out eventually.

The welcoming party ended shortly after and everyone went home. Luz laid on the floor in her room. She didn't feel like eating or going outside for the rest of the day. She couldn't even sleep at night. She just stayed awake thinking about Amity. After some time, Luz decided to head into the woods to clear her mind.

Luz walked around the woods and observed the scenery. She picked up a stick and begin to play with. She remembered the time in the woods when she decided to stand in Amity's place as grom queen. Luz immediately dropped the stick like it was burning her hand. She kicked it out of the way and kept moving foward. Luz realized she had no way of getting back but kept walking. She stopped after she heard a twig snap nearby. She grabbed a glyph from her pocket and proceeded cautiously.

Luz: Ok Luz, it's probably nothing. You're ok.

Luz prepared herself. She let out a war cry and threw out a plant glyph. Vines shot out of the paper and captured a young witch by the leg. Luz lit the forest with a light glyph and guided the light towards the witch. Luz stumbled backwards after seeing who the witch was before her. Luz caught Amity Blight.

Amity struggled to get down. She drew a circle and cast fire magic to burn the vines that held her captive. Amity fell to the forest floor. Luz was hesitant in reaching her hand to help the witch. Luz lifted up the witch and they met eye to eye. Amity's eyes widened at the sight before her. Her eyes were filled with tears.

Amity: LUZ?

Luz couldn't do much. She wanted to run away but she knew she couldn't. Luz looked at Amity's finger and sure enough, there was a golden ring present. Before Luz could do or say anything, Amity wrapped her arms around Luz to hug her. Luz didn't know how to respond. There were many mixed signals her. Luz pushed off Amity which left Amity confused.

Luz: Why are you happy to see me?

Amity: What? Why wouldn't I be.

Luz: Because I know you don't love me anymore.

Amity: What? Of course I still love you

Luz: THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS

Luz grabbed Amity's hand with the ring on it and held it up. Amity was shocked to see Luz noticed. But she couldn't hide it.

Amity: Luz, please let me explain.

Luz: EXPLAIN WHAT. You don't love me anymore. I thought you would've kept your promise, but I guess that was just wishful thinking. Either way, I should've known you would've found someone better than me.

Amity: Luz, you don't know the whole story. Just let me explain.

Luz didn't wanna hear it. For all she knew, the situation could've been worse. Luz tried walking away but Amity held onto her arm. Amity cried for Luz to stay.

Amity: Please Luz. Just hear me out.

Luz turned around and faced Amity.

Amity: Thank you. Luz I promise I still love you, but this marriage was not by choice. This was an arranged marriage set up by my parents.

Luz couldn't say anything. She felt bad for yelling at Amity. She let her emotions get the better of her. Luz looked at Amity. She reached out to caress Amity's cheek. Amity leaned against her touch and purred. Luz giggled at the sound the Blight made.

Luz: I missed your purrs.

Amity blushed.

Amity: I missed you.

Luz pulled Amity into a passionate kiss. Luz and Amity's tongues danced as they were hungry for eachother. As they pulled away, Luz whispered into Amity's ear.

Luz: So who were you supposed to marry?

Amity: Boscha.

Luz: WHAT

Amity: I know it's bad, but I'm trying to find a way to escape.

Luz thought for a moment. She knew the perfect way to get Amity out of this.

Luz: I could help you.

Amity: It's no use. My parents hardly let go out and they're always watching me.

Luz: How did you escape this time?

Amity: I had Em cover for me.

Luz: Then lets run. Right now.

Amity: I can't leave Em by herself.

Luz: Then we'll go back for her. Is she allowed to leave?

Amity: She doesn't live with us anymore. So maybe?

Luz: Then we can tell her to leave right?

Amity: I guess. But what if she gets in trouble and gets hurt or something because I'm not there.

Luz: Don't worry. We can work this out.

Amity: Thank you Luz

Luz: Also, why were you in the woods at night?

Amity: I heard you came back

Luz: You really waited for me after all this time?

Amity: Of course I did my love. I promised, didn't I?

Luz smiled and gave Amity a peck on the lips. The two were happy to be in each others arms after 3 years.

[kornito]

SOURCE: https://korngiant.tripod.com/kornisgoodforu/id10.html

Dead

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

All I want in life is to be happy", it's that simple. People say that it's become their own anthem. It's like whenever I start to feel good, something comes and takes it away and I feel like I'm nothing again, like I'm dead.

Falling Away From Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The song is about domestic abuse and that there ways to get help whether it's telling someone or calling a help line, there are ways to get out of those situations. Noone has to be treated like that.

Trash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Trash" is about how I threw my world and everything out. I threw her away. I threw my old self away. It basically comes back down to the sex thing. The battles I did on the road, this whole album is what I went through because I was on the road and I went crazy.

Beg for Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Beg For Me" is more of an angry thing because the whole thing for "Beg For Me" is the crowd. The only time I was good on tour was when I walked up onstage and that's what the song is about. Feeling wanted is something one thing I've always needed. I was shuffled around so much when I was a kid...Being up onstage was the only point was the only time when my anxiety would go away for an hour.

Make Me Bad

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

I need to feel the sickness in you" ... It's spawned from f**kin', basically, from having sex. That's where that line comes from, but it means a whole bunch of things to me. "Make Me Bad" was about the battles I had being on the road, being married and being with other women. I'm not married anymore... beause of my lifestlyle, and I just couldnt do that to my wife anymore. So that ended. But does it make me bad that I have a dick and I have f**ken other feelings to be with other people? Why should I be with just one? It seems like human beings are genetically engineered to procreate. Thats what we do, f**k everything, and that's what our natural insides want to do. It is hard to find someone like that. But she was a good woman and I didnt want to keep on... I did the right thing, I was a man about it. It was better for me to tell her and let her go on with her life and find someone who could help her and be like that. So that song was spawned by that, does it make me bad to want to be with other women? In a sence it was my only drug, why... because I dont drink anymore, I cant drink. I've been sober for a year. I dont have any other vices. So at least doing that could be something.

Hey Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Hey Daddy" where I was schizophrenic and there were these voices telling me to do sh*t... To kill myself, basically. Daddy is one of my nicknames, so its like I'm talking to myself the whole time. It's hard to explain.

Dirty

Song Meaning: Jonathan

"I feel like a fucking whore to record companies." "You know how it is...the way we are used and marketed." "How they make all the money off us and we don't make shit!" "The only way we make money is to go out on tour and sell merchandise" "Basiclly we write all the music and turn in and they make all the money." "So I feel like that and also I feel like a slut cuz I'd go out at night and fucking girls and so I said fuck it, I'm going to do it. The only way to escape is to have sex." "Its all kind of different issues."

Its On!

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's On is my sh*t peer pressure song. Me being so stressed out going out and partying. Everybody's just going 'Come on dude, it's on.' That's partying, it's alcohol, cocaine, women. All that wrapped into one. I wrote a song about it. And the chorus I talked about Why am I really doing this? It's all my fault that I'm doing this because all the alcohol, the booze an the chicks do is just make it worse. They just rearrange all the problems in a different order that I can deal with at that moment.

Freak on a Leash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

One of the best titles I've heard ever for a song. That's my song against the music industry. Like me feeling like I'm f**kin' a pimp, a prostitute. Like I'm paraded around. I'm this freak paraded around but I got corporate America f**kin' making all the money while it's taking a part of me. It's like they stole something from me, they stole my innocence and I'm not calm anymore. I worry constantly.

Got the Life

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a song baggin' on myself. How everything's always handed to me. How I look up to God and don't want this anymore. Like I want something more out of life than all this. And I've got everything I really need but I sometimes don't like. I don't know how to explain it. I have to let it sit through the songs more to actually get into what I write. I truly know, really, the meanings of the songs almost. That's what I'm getting out of it right now.

Dead Bodies Everywhere

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the song about my parents trying to keep me out of the music business. My father was in it and he knew how it was and I totally understand now that I have a son. I want Nathan to be a musician but I him don't want him to go through the hell I went through. That's the same thing my Dad was doing. A lot of people can relate to it, because it's like the Dad's wanting their sons to be football players and their sons want to be doctors or something. That peer pressure its like trying to make them something they're really not. And the Dead Bodies thing is like so I did it and all I got out of it was dead bodies everywhere and got all traumatized. Thanks a lot Dad, Mom.

Children of the Korn

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's the song that Ice Cube is on Cube came up with the title. I fed off of what he wrote, he was talking about growing up and puberty. Dictating what he can do, like how you gonna tell me how to live and who to f**k? And all this stuff. And I took that and in my stuff I was talking about being a kid always known as the f**kin' town faggot. It's funny how things change. That some of these people picked on me and all of a sudden look who's laughing now. Also in another of the verse I talked about all these parents f**kin hating me for what I do, saying I'm corrupting their children, but in turn these parents need to step outside of themselves and really listen to what I'm talking about. Then I think they can understand that they were kids before. They're just really quick to judge me. All the Children of The Korn are all our Korn fans. All those kids going through that sh*t and feeling what I feel.

B.B.K.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Big black cock! That's what I call a jack and coke. Those little glasses they serve in Europe and everything. That's what I named it, big black cock. And that's another song about me dealing with the pressures of this album and how I, you know, I'm trying to kill myself, but you know? Do I really want to kill myself? Things I'm just questioning myself. Most of this is self-structured.

Pretty

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's a story about this little girl that came into the coroner's office when I was working there and she was f**ked by her dad. She was an 11 month old little baby girl. Her legs were broken back behind her and he just f**ked her like a toy doll and chucked her in the bathroom. It was the most heinous thing I've ever seen in my life and I still have nightmares about it.

All in the Family

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Fred was there after Korn TV and we said, 'Let's do a song together, Hey, man, let's go back and forth and rip on each other like an old school battle.' I don't know who's idea it was, I can't remember if it was mine or Fieldy's or Fred's but we came up with the idea and we started writing and we worked on it together. I came up with some bags on myself for Fred to say. It was all in good natured fun.

Reclaim My Place

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

This one is about the whole band and about all my life being called a homosexual. And then I became this big rock star in a band and I'm still called a fag even by my own band. So it's like I was f**kin' pissed off at them. It's like erase them all because I'm gonna reclaim my place and say hey, they owe a lot to me for what I did, and I owe a lot to them back. But, it still kinda sucks. I've never ever gotten away from that fag f**kin' title. Just because I'm a sensitive kinda guy. Kinda feminine it really sucks.

Justin

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Justin, that was the kid dying terminally with intestinal cancer. His last dying wish was to meet us and it really freaked me out. That threw a whole bunch of new kind of pressures on my head. That's really intense. Someone's gonna die and his last thing he wants to do is come hang out with us. So I truly just freaked out. It's like why would you want to meet me? What makes me so special? And in turn I talk about how I admire his strength and his life. I couldn't stare at him because he was so content he was gonna die. No one could look him in the eyes. And I totally admire his strength. I wish I had it.

Seed

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Seed. That's all about the same thing again. I laying in bed in my hotel room, thinking about do I really need all this stuff? All this pressure on me? Because I'm a stressed out freak. It's about Nathan, it's about every time that I look into his eyes, I see myself how I used to be, innocent and stress free. I'm kind of jealous of it. It really sucks, I used to be that way. It's like I have to work so hard at this thing in my life. I have to become a stressed out freak. I put food on the table for my child. Every time I look in his eyes, I just see myself staring right back at my @ss laughing. I was like care free, innocent as a child. It's really weird and I'm really jealous of it.

Cameltosis

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a love song. It's about women in general, women who hurt me. It's Tre's lyrics. He's going on about chicks and my chorus is like I'm so scared to love anyone and really let them in after I got hurt really really bad by a girl. I've let Renee in a little bit, to be honest, but I'll never be that in love ever again. That's what I'm saying, if you've loved twice, you're gonna get f**ked, 'cause you usually do.

My Gift to You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Renee always wanted me to write her a love song and that's why I called it My Gift To You. It's my gift to her, you know how I get sick. I always had a fantasy of f**king her and choking her to death. I fantasize about what it would look like me in her body and watching me do it. So it's like a really sick f**ked up song. I did it totally like, I love her so much, I want to take her out of this world. It's really strange. She used to leave notes on my pillow like 25 ways she'd like to kill me. She's got this weird death fetish. We're kinda f**kin' freaky. She got it. She's all 'Thank you that's kinda f**ked up. I was expecting a f**kin' I love you, baby kinda song.' I'm all, 'No, you know me.' I mean I can't do that.

Chi

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Chi is about a lot of alcohol and drug abuse. People turn to that when they have problems so that they won't have to feel their pain. The song was named after Chi Cheng from the Deftones. We named it after him because he used to call it reggae, and he loves reggae music.

Lost

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's the sterotypical thing about your best friend meeting a chick, and then you're nothing

Swallow

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's about being paranoid. Drug-induced paranoia.

Good God

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a guy I knew in school who I thought was a my friend, but who f**ked me. He came into my life with nothing, hung out at my house, lived off me, and made me do sh*t I didn't really wanna do." "I was into new romantic music and he was a mod, and he'd tell me if I didn't dress like a mod he wouldn't be my friend anymore."

"Whenever I had plans to go on a date with a chick he'd sabotage it, because he didn't have a date or nothing. He was a gutless f**king nothing. I haven't talked to him for years.

Mr. Rogers

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Back in the day when I was a speed freak, um... even further back when I was a little kid watchin' Mr. Rogers, that sh*t was scary. He was a freaky old man... Land of Makebelieve and Mr. f**kinMcFeely and sh*t... made me sick. So back when I was doing speed, like for 5 or 6 days I'd be trippin out and my brain would start to get freaky and get schizophrenic and stuff, and I'd tape it and watch it everyday over and over... I don't know, I was sick in the head. As a kid he told me to be polite and all it did was get me picked on. I f**king hate that man. Thanks for making me polite and trusting everyone, and easy to take advantage of. So I spent 3 months on that one song, just tweakin' on it, and it was totally just my Mr. Rogers obsession, about how evil I thought he was. Pretty much drug induced.

K @ # Ø % (Kunt)

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think it's sexist but it isn't. It's more subconcious b*tching at all the women who've been with me in my life. It's not about women in feneral, just those women who hurt me." "Initially, we wrote it to send to American radio for a joke, because they always chop up all the other songs. So we were going to send a 'real' single seven days later."

A.D.I.D.A.S.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It stands for all day I dream about sex. It's about how much of a pervert my ass is, and how I daydream about what a stud I am. But when it comes down to it, I'm a f**king pussy and I'm in there jacking off.

a** Itch

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the last song I wrote, and I was so burned at writing out lyrics because everytime I write I get depressed because I start thinking about things, you know? So the whole song is about that. In the chorus it says, 'Before day, my sun will be dying'. It's because I put myself on the line all the time and for what? Because people aren't going to be listening to it anyway.

Kill You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a relative I first met when I was 12. I f**king hate that b*tch. She's the most evil, f**ked up person I've met in my whole life. She hated my guts. She did everything she could to make my life hell. Like, when I was sick she'd feed me tea with Tabasco, which is really hot pepper oil. She'd make me drink it and say, 'You have to burn that cold out, boy'. f**ked up sh*t like that. So every night when I'd go to sleep, I'd dream of killing that b*tch. In some sick way I had a sexual fantasy about her, and I don't know what that stems from or why, but I always dreamt about f**king her and killing her

Ball Tongue

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The meaning of ball tongue is simple. Some thought it had to do with oral sex, but in fact its about a guy we had to work with on a t-shirt (Jeff Creath). He either had a pierced tongue or a wart or something on his tongue and he was a dick to us.

Different live: Jonathan goes into a Rap (by Coolio) Called "Loddi Doddi" in the middle of the song.

Clown

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Korn was playing a show in San Diego for a clothing card. This skinhead guy came up and started flippin' me off. When we started, I bent down and the guy took a swing at me. Our tour manager, Jeff, got into it and knocked the guy out. I wrote this song about him: 'Scared to be honest with yourself/you're a cowardly man.

Faget

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Everyone thinks I'm bashing gay people in this song, and I'm not. It's really about me going through high school being called 'pussy,' 'queer' and all that stuff, about getting picked on by all these jocks.

Shoots and Ladders

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It was written because all these little kids sing these nursery rhymes and they don't know what they originally meant. Everyone is so happy when singing but 'London Bridge' is about the Black Plague. All of them have these evil stories behind them." "The lyrics are all from nursery rhymes, and a lot of nursery rhymes go back to the Middle Ages. They're actually pretty twisted if you know the stories behind them, like about Black Death and stuff.

Helmet in the Bush

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a speed problem that I had. You know, you do a lot of speed and -- if you're a male -- your penis retracts severly. The guy heard at the beginning of the song is La Caco, a friend of the band. His real name is Michael and likes taco bell. He's a really Nice Guy and he has been friends with the band for years

Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think daddy' was writen because my dad f**ked me up the ass,thats not what the song's about. It wasn't about my dad or my mum. When I was a kid I was being abused by someone else and I went to my parents and told them about it. and they thought I was lying and joking around, they never did sh*t about it. They didn't belive it was happening to their son. I don't like to talk about that song, this is the most I've ever talked about it...

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 3

Hey there! Thank you for taking the time to read this

There are so many left out details here that I did on purpose for future explanation within the fic for the element of mystery I'm trying to brew . Hope you don't mind! Enjoy reading❤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

1.7k words.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury and fighting.

*

Without thinking, I drove my fist towards the voice, regretting it the instant I recognized who it was.

Tai'chi.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found my fist encased in his hand. He seems unfazed by my reaction, seemingly expecting it.

“Oh shi— I’m so sorry!”

How the hell did he sneak up on me without making a sound??

“Feisty- I mean, I should be the one sorry, for startling you...And for following you. I just wanted to, make sure you were alright.”

I blinked. He was concerned?

He spoke up when I didn’t respond.

“So, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. Just, disappointed.” I breathed in and sighed as he gently let go of my fist.

Oh, and his scent helps right now. He smells so...wonderful I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve been surrounded by disgusting odors my entire life. I swear I’ve inhaled appealing scents like lilac, sandalwood, cinnamon, even rain has its particular smell! But Tai'chi, he—he’s something else entirely.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else like, I don’t know, maybe getting lunch with some of your friends or in a classroom?” I asked. I wonder why he would even bother to be in my presence. Anyone should be creeped out by the way I spoke up earlier. I mean, who does that? Plus, I did throw a stranger down to the floor. But part of me knows he deserved that.

Definitely.

“Want to talk about it?” He ignored my question. Tai'chi was now sitting cross-legged beside me, the oak’s root in between us. His deep azure eyes studying, watching me carefully.

“What?”

“What you did back there, wasn’t something a plain, timid college girl would do.”

Wait. He knew I was pretending to be one?

“Yes, I knew.”

“You can read minds?!” I stammered out. He can read my mind this whole time?! Shit.

He held up for a second before a boisterous laugh broke out of him and echoed through the circling trees, scaring away some birds perched above. I don’t know if I should be offended or flustered by his guffaw. It was so, so deep and rich and —

What the hell Pearl? What if he's reading your mind??

Tai'chi faced me again, sighing once he calmed down.

“To answer your question, no, I can’t read minds. But like I stated before, your face gives it away. Or your brows since you’re wearing a mask, but I can imagine your expression.”

I let out an incomprehensible noise.

“How did you find out I was pretending to be…you know,” waving my hands around.

“The moment we made eye contact this morning when you entered. And the way you shifted your body at the last second to prevent yourself from plunging into the trash bin, I knew you were something more. Your eyes and your actions show your experience in combat. A skilled warrior would notice these little things right away.”

My jaw fell open, and I’m sure he knows. He left me speechless.

Should I tell him I am a trained martial artist and a weapon wielder?

But we just met like 5 hours ago!

He seems trustworthy. And he’s an orc, didn’t they have a code of honor or something?

My thoughts ran wild I swear Tai'chi could hear my mind, screaming.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t wish to. And I must’ve sounded, creepy when I admitted I’ve been observing you. But before anything else, will you allow me to introduce myself, for real this time?”

“You mean your name isn’t Tai'chi?”

Letting out a chuckle, he replied, “I swear to you, my name is Tai'chi. What I mean is, I want you to know my full name. Do you understand what this implies, Pearl?”

I racked my brain for a moment, trying to recall what my parents said about orc traditions when my uncle, papa’s brother, married the orcess he fell in love with. Something about an orc’s real name being reserved only to those they’re close to?

“I guess so? But what exactly?”

“I want to become your friend.”

I couldn’t help the slight warmth creeping into my cheeks behind my mask. He can’t see it, can he? A friend, he says. A friend!

“Oh,” was all that came out. A pause and;

“Uh, I mean, I’d love to be your friend! I never had an actual friend before. I mean, have cousins, but we aren’t acquainted enough to consider myself their friend— I mean— uh, what should I do?” I blurted out a little rapidly.

He smiled. He actually smiled! Oh, damn, it was adorable!

Tai'chi was about to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut and grimaced. I was confused by his sudden change of mood, along with his scent.

Then it struck me.

The two of us shot up when multiple smells filled the air, making my stomach clench.

We were followed, not just one but six individuals. One of them was the pretentious human from earlier.

My day can’t get any better. And is that a baseball bat? Great. Fucking great.

I swear. I’m cursed to find trouble anywhere I go.

“Hello, freaks.” The guy in the middle began. “Whatcha doin’ out here in the forest?”

The others began spreading out and surrounded us.

“Planning something nasty I bet.” A human to my right spat.

“You will pay for what you did to me, you bitch. Just so you know, my father is the dean of this university. No one will ever hear a word of what I did here and what we will do to you.

'Dean’s son, David Silverstone, assaulted by an insane student in the woods within campus grounds. His friends graciously helping him fight off the lunatic until she passed out and was carried to an isolation chamber for monitoring, later finding out about her severe psychological disorder.’ Now wouldn’t that be a hit in the papers!” The bastard and his companions cackled and snickered, some of them stealing glances between my legs and I felt my skin crawl.

Tai'chi growled lowly, silencing them for a brief moment. He was getting mad but held his ground.

“And you,” the human pointed, “you beast. It won’t be hard antagonizing you, people will no doubt believe you were the one who violated the schoolgirl and left her in the woods to die.”

This fucking—

I felt a hand on my shoulder just as I was about to start, gently gripping, in hopes of trying to calm me down. He knows they were baiting us on making the first move. He shook his head, and an idea popped up.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to make my voice as girly as possible, sounding so hilarious, like those overdressed, flashy high school girls with flowery perfume so strong I wrenched every time I get a whiff of it.

Provoking them would do.

“Oh, I’m so scared! Should I get on my knees and beg for mercy? Oh please, great and noble one, have mercy on my poor soul.” My voice laced with mockery and sadness, with my legs fake trembling and my arms flailing.

And did Tai'chi just snort?

“If you beg nicely, I will perhaps give you a chance to— ”

My sudden wheezing interrupted him and I laughed. Hard. I can’t believe he bought my terrible acting! I expected him to straight-up be offended rather than actually bite the false bait. He is dumber than I thought.

I was holding my middle by the time I was done. Tai'chi’s shoulders were moving slightly, probably chuckling and trying to hold back his amusement.

“Did you honestly take it seriously??? I can't— oh my God!” I choked out once more before I went on.

“There’s no chance in hell I’m gonna bow to you, not even one degree of an angle, you foolish, idiotic, spoiled, bastardized son of a bitch.”

His face was turning red out of rage and oh! Wasn’t that a sight to behold?

“You brat!” Turning his head to the others, he yelled, “What are guys standing there for?! Get them!”

Good.

Perhaps they didn’t catch my hands slipping on my beloved crimson knuckle dusters out of the bag when I was laughing then, tugging down my hoodie’s sleeve to hide it.

“Don’t move.” I told the orc, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“But—”

“Just don’t.” I said with my voice firm. I will take them on my own. I can’t have him getting in trouble and people blaming him for being an orc. Imagine that. The ones who attacked him will be viewed as victims because they were up against him, an orc. Numerous humans will jump at the chance to throw dirt at their race, a single act of self-defense treated as a one-sided assault to humans, the thought of it being enough to somehow remove all of them from the city, but everyone knows it's not that simple. Dimwits.

I strode forward without earning his response, waiting for the first person to come at me.

I took my stance, although it was more of preparing half of my body since I was still hiding both of my hands.

They all seemed confused and hesitant, which was what I was going for. To me, and those with experience in hand-to-hand combat, this is one of the most basic stances, but fundamental, nonetheless. A simple form that can determine the outcome of a fight. With my right foot forward, left foot back, both firmly planted to the ground, and my dominant hand wearing my dusters. In their eyes, it was…wrong, foreign. Some may even say it’s an open vulnerability, showing how inexperienced the opponent is, but oh, it is the exact opposite.

I didn’t see Tai'chi’s expression, though. I was on alert and getting into my zone to peer at him, one motion that can put me in a compromising position. Did he notice my brass knuckles? Likely.

“Scared to hurt a little girl like me?” I enticed.

Finally, the one beside their alleged leader charged at me.

A typical amateur approach.

The guy, about two inches taller than me, threw a right punch, which was a huge mistake.

Predictable.

I smirked under my mask and dodged it not a second before it connected. Making him falter as I grabbed his arm and brought it down to my knee, dislodging his joints.

A high-pitched scream of pain broke out of him as he dropped down on the forest ground, gripping his bent-off arm, cursing, but refused to rise and fight me again.

I gave him one last glance before I looked back at the others.

“Who’s next?”

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

Those human shits just can't leave them alone! Interrupting their supposed-to-be official introduction! There's more to the orc that meets the eye *wink* Who is he exactly? Why was he so... observant?

Part 4 is actually on its third revising— and I'm still trying to come up on HOW to phrase my next words to lead to part 5. I let me brain take a break from spewing senseless words for now so I'll probably post the next part of this later or tomorrow

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And I'd appreciate it if you have some advice for me, or just point out some mistakes I made! Thank you

Ps. This is really not perfect formal writing if you're wondering. I just type away whatever comes into my mind, and then proofread it to the best I can. And I hope you don't mind me using a lot of spaces. It... sort of makes my mind clear and continue moving forward, and it helps me when I'm reading it again, mentally taking note that with every line between spaces there's a slight pause and again, read it clearly like you were the one thinking it. I don't know how to explain how my own brain works but I guess that's that?

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

Imagine:Imagine Requested by Anon. You move to New Orleans and meet Elijah who then introduces you to his younger brothers. You take him to your brothers wedding as your date but he also brings his brothers as plus ones.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Human!Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 3596

Edited: Yes

Hi! I'm sorry so for the long wait, this was a really good request and I wanted to make it perfect for you. Now I can honestly say it still isn't to the best of my ability but I was stumped half way through and had to power through it. Sorry about the length I wasn't planning for it to be this long but it just ended up being so. Anyway I really hope you enjoy! Please comment requests or what you think of the imagine please. Thank you !

Recently, I moved to New Orleans. I did so because I heard great things and I am not disappointed. I moved here right in Mardi Gras season so it was okay but it's been a couple of months now and the tingles of excitement thinking about living here is incredible. At this moment in time, I was walking my dog. Barney. He's a beautiful German Shepard, he's getting older now but he'll always be my baby. We were walking down bourbon street and I was looking at my phone to check the time when I bumped into a pristine looking man. I dropped my phone and started giggling nervously.

"I'm so sorry, sir."

I bent down to pick up my phone but as I did we bumped heads, seeming as he lowered to pick it up too. We both looked at each other and started laughing. It's like I came straight out of a high school romance movie.

"It's absolutely okay. I should've moved when I saw you on your phone. I couldn't help but be-and forgive me if I'm overstepping-but be captivatingly beautiful."

I couldn't stop or even stall the luminous red blush engulfing my cheeks. The wind picked up in time to cover my face with my Y/H/C coloured hair.

"Oh, uh thank you."

"Sorry I shouldn't of said it, that was out of line."

I giggled as he walked away.

"Wait ! It wasn't, I'm just not used to compliments from people I bump into on the street."

He looked down with his hands in his trouser pockets and blessed my Y/E/C eyes with his sweet and wide grin.

"Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Would you let me buy you a coffee ?"

I giggled and Barney started licking the man's hand.

"Barney ! Stop it baby."

He laughed.

"It's quite alright. So coffee ? We can have it to go if you'd like?"

I smiled and Barney sat down next to my legs.

"Uh yeah, that would be nice."

                                                         ***

"So you've bought me coffee and are walking around with me and I still don't know your name."

We laughed together.

"I apologise. My name's Elijah."

I looked at him in awe. His name was so beautiful and it matched his pristine look.

"I love your name, it's beautiful. My name's Y/N."

"Talk about beautiful names."

I looked away, again blushing. It made me smile so much because I always used to get picked on for my name despite loving it myself. It made me uncertain of the importance of self-love.

"Thank you, it means more than you may think."

We smiled and continued to walk in a serene silence.

"So, Elijah. When your not carelessly bumping into girls and dishing out compliments, what do you like to do ?"

He chuckled softly.

"I like to read a lot and I can cook when necessary."

This man becomes more intriguing by the second. I bet he's a great cook and the reading explains his extensive range of vocab.

"That's so cool, I cook and bake all the time. I love it so much and I don't read as much as I'd want but I like to sing."

"Oh yeah, do you sing for people ?"

"Uh sometimes, mainly special occasions like birthdays and stuff. I'm actually singing at my brother's wedding in a couple of months."

"Really, what a shame I don't get to see for myself your talent."

"I wouldn't really call it a big thing but I mean if it means that much. You seem nice so far, I was just gonna go stag but if you want to join me you can. It might be more fun if your there, I don't particularly love the women he's marrying so."

"That would be lovely. What's wrong with the woman?"

"Well, she's always stuck up around him you know. She licks his ass so much but whenever he's not around for a second she is the bitchiest most irritating girl in the world and not forgetting she's incredibly immature."

"Really, must be a irritating women then ?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

I looked up and realised that it's already quite dark out, which means I've spent a good couple of hours talking to Elijah. I told him where my apartment was and he left but not before exchanging numbers. That very night, I had no sleep because Elijah and I were texting all night.

In the morning, after still not getting any sleep. I had a text from Elijah just as I had finished brushing my teeth.

Elijah: Good morning Y/N! I hope your energised. How would you like to get lunch today ?- E.M

Reply: As energised as I can be, Elijah. I would love to get lunch today. I also need to get my dress for the wedding, help me pick ? Good morning by the way.

Elijah: Of course you do, trust you to not be prepared. I would be honoured to help you, I don't want to go to a complete stranger's wedding with my date looking like a tart.

Reply: Thank you Elijah. Self-confidence risen dramatically... what time do you want to meet ?

Elijah: I'll pick you up at 12:30.

Reply: Okay, see you then.

As soon as I sent my reply, I ran and jumped into the shower. I lathered my vanilla body wash all over my body and soaked my hair in cherry almond shampoo and conditioner. I hopped out and decided to leave my face free from makeup and put on a mask whilst getting ready. I quickly applied my charcoal face mask and started rooting through my wardrobe for some clothes. I looked at the clock and realised I only have 50 minutes to get ready. I decided to wear a sheet black crop top with coloured flowers on and flared sleeves along with a short denim skirt, brown ankle boots, some black tights and and brown bag to match my shoes.

I was just spraying some of my vanilla perfume when there was a knock at the door. My eyes shot to the clock and I watched as the clock turned 12:30. I opened the door to see him stood there with a warm smile on his face. I smiled back at him with just as much warmth.

"Hey Elijah. You weren't kidding when you said 12:30 were you ?"

He chuckled and straightened his posture more even if it was impossible to be standing any straighter than he already was. I get it now, he's a perfectionist.

"When I say a time, I mean it."

I giggled and shut the door, locking it behind me. I replied to his comment with a smirk on my face and walked off.

"I can see that, Mr Perfectionist."

He chuckled and followed me out. We we're taking a comfortably quiet stroll down bourbon street, not rushing to get to the mall.

"So Elijah, what is it ?"

He turned to me with slight confusion.

"What ever do you mean, Y/N?"

I could tell he was genuinely confused so I made the choice to elaborate. I turned my head to look at him with my arms crossed but still walking.

"You. The way you talk, your timing ? I mean your not just on time you were there in the second of it turning 12:30. How about that both times I've seen you, you've been wearing $10 000 suits. I mean we are going to lunch. Probably to get some pizza or sushi, not for a meal that costs like $300 take like one zero off that at least."

He looked shocked at me understandably so. I just called him out on practically everything that makes him Elijah. It's not that I have a problem with any of it. A man who has impeccable timing, amazing-expensive-but amazing dress sense and knows how to talk properly not "Sup baby, you busy tonight ?" The number of times that lines been used in me is incredible.

He looked at me with a prominent look of worry. Maybe I said the wrong thing, was I too blunt maybe ? Or he might think I don't like any of it. So I quickly decided to save myself.

"Before you think or even ask yourself if I don't like any of that, I do. I'm just not used to speaking to a man. Someone with great fashion sense, doesn't talk like in idiot and can actually pronounce and word things properly-in other words speaking actual english, someone who has manners, the looks, impeccable timing and knows how to charm a women. Your a women's dream I just didn't know you were so....dreamy."

A wide grin broke out on his face, with made me blush profusely. I saw the mall in front of us.

"Dreamy ? You have a way with words Miss Y/L/N. I apologise if I may have distracted you for being so dreamy."

I giggled and smacked his arm playfully.

"Hey it's not funny. Take the compliment or leave it, alright ? It just slipped out."

"Slipped out of your mouth or your dreams."

We started laughing together feeling more comfortable than when I had my curious outburst minutes ago.

We walked in the mall and I was lost for which shop to buy my dress in. I nudged Elijah's arm.

"You know any good shops to buy dresses ?"

I asked jokingly but to my surprise he dragged me into a shop I didn't see the name of. He stopped at the entrance and turned to me.

"We are going to do something because you have massively boosted my ego today unintentionally, I think. Your going to let me do something for you. To make sure you don't look like a tart is why I came with you, correct ?"

I nodded.

"Your are going to pick five dresses you like in this store and I am going to pick my favourite one and you have to wear it to the wedding, deal ?"

Not how I expected the day to go, being bossed around by a man who was a stranger not more than 2 days ago.

"How do you not have women lining up to be with you? As long as your this bossy in the bedroom, I will say deal to you as many times as you like."

I winked at him and walked further into the shop. Elijah stood there with a wide grin at the once innocent flirty comments turning rapidly less innocent and followed her.

Five. Five dresses is not hard to pick. Come on Y/n. Just one more. I stopped and looked around until I spotted the last one. I handed them to Elijah with a whispered comment as I walked out.

"One of those dresses are harder to get off then the rest I might need some assistance, make the right decision Mr Precision."

I waited outside for him to pick the dress. Minutes later he walked out of the shop with a wide grin on his face and a white paper bag that most likely has my dress in it.

"So ?"

He looked at me and winked.

"I made the right decision, don't you worry."

                                                        ***

We walked over to Rousseau's and I persuaded him to sit down and eat. When the food arrived he looked at me weirdly.

"I can't eat this, Y/N."

I giggled at him a rolled my eyes.

"What worried about getting grease on your $10 000 suit. Don't even tell me you don't like it, what's not to love about a big greasy burger and fries with a beer. Or do you only drink wine and eat lobster with caviar ?"

He chuckled at me and took his jacket off and placed it on the back of his chair. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up so they were now three quarters in length. The next thing I know is he's picking it up and taking a big bite of the burger whilst staring at me in the eyes to prove a point.

                                                          ***

A little while later after it's like 6 pm we decide to leave the bar and go back to my apartment. I unlock the door and hang my jacket up whilst throwing my keys on the worktop in the kitchen. I kick my shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen to look for some wine. Elijah follows me in a little later, having just taken his jacket off and hung it up.

"You look confused."

I'm rooting around in my pantry looking down my wine rack not finding the alcohol I wanted. Then the idea that it might be in the fridge popped into my head. I walked out of my pantry closing the door and opening my fridge finding the label staring at me in the face. I smiled and grabbed it before turning around and showing it to Elijah.

"I was trying to find this. A bottle of wine I was saving for when I had good company."

He grabbed the bottle out of my hands and inspected it, lastly he smirked.

"No wonder you saved it Y/N, this is an expensive wine. One they don't even sell in the United States. What did you do? Go on holiday and smuggle a bottle of rare and incredibly expensive wine back here ?"

"I guess you could say that but I didn't buy it...I won it. In a game of poker on my 26th birthday, I lived in Italy with my family and it was a bottle that was made the year I was born and my mother saved up for it and bought it. My dad annoyed her buy using it as a prize for our game of poker, he said it was pure luck just because it was made on my birthday. $6 863. That's the total cost."

"So your Italian ?"

I giggled and grabbed two glasses.

"Si signore."

He chuckled and followed me into the living room. I threw myself on the couch and sat upright so I could pour the wine.

"So you've juiced everything interesting out of me. What about you ?"

"The only interesting thing about me is my family I suppose. I have two older siblings and four younger siblings."

"Tell me about them."

"Okay. There's my eldest sister Freya she's 34; 5 years older than me. She's quite sweet but she was more of a long distance sibling for a while.Finn who's 33, we're not especially close. Niklaus or Klaus as he prefers, he's 25 and a menace all of the time consistently getting on my nerves. He's 4 years younger than me. Then Kol who is worse than Klaus, he's the most menacing of us all and an irritatingly common flirt even at 24.My youngest sister Rebekah, 17 and she's always had a flair for the dramatics, always looking for love. Then Henrik, who was 11 when he died. None of us really knew a lot about him except Klaus, he was the closest to him."

I widened my eyes and polished off my third glass of wine already. I put my hand on his, I leant forward a touch to pour more wine.

"I apologise for your loss. But, also for your seemingly irritant siblings."

"It's quite alright."

I grabbed his glass and placed the glasses down on the table and I felt my arm being dragged back and when looking forward, I noticed the close proximity of Elijah and I. Mere centimetres away we sat staring into each other's eyes with curiosity. I couldn't help but feel intimidated by the lingering stare he had on me and also slightly exhilarated. Swiftly our noses touched ever so slightly. It made it impossible to pull away like I probably should have. He leant forward some more making the pressure on our noses more noticeable and so suddenly his small soft lips reached for mine in a gentle peck. Our eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed from the feeling a small kiss could make us feel. It was a foreign feeling, feeling this way from a kiss.

He gradually moved away a little and looked at me in the eyes. I didn't know what to say. His hands slowly raised and stroked the sides of my face before leaning in and giving me a quick peck. Just after he allowed me to cuddle into his side to watch a movie, I'd put on in the background when we sat down.

                                                       ***

A couple of months later, we are still going strong. Elijah and I actually have the wedding to go to today, we flew out with his brothers unfortunately so we couldn't have much personal time. I am excited about seeing my dress though, I haven't seen it since when I picked the 5 dresses out at that store, I can't even remember what they all looked like.

I opened the bag and I pulled out a beautiful baby blue halter neck dress that will hug my body tightly, no wonder he liked it and of course it was the one with the zip. I actually will need help later now.

I decided to start getting ready and then spotting the lingerie he threw in there as well.

These last few months have been a dream. I have not been this happy for years. Elijah's perfect, yes we have a few differences that haven't been great to deal with but we've made it through and he makes me feel i'm living in my dream.

                                                        ***

I walked out of the bathroom that I was getting ready in to see Elijah drinking a glass of wine on the bed.

"Babe it's 11 am, why are you drinking wine ?"

He jumped up and spat it out on the floor, unfortunately it was red wine. My eyes widened as I saw it immediately stain the floor.

"Lijah ! This is a hotel room, we aren't at home."

He shook his bed and fell on the floor on his knees, eyes still widened.

"Elijah. What's wrong with you, baby ?"

He shook his head and helped me scrub the floor. We are most definitely going to be late for this wedding. As I was squirting soap on the floor I hear a knock. I get up, leaving Elijah on the floor. I open the door to greet the brothers. They walked in and followed me to the bedroom where Elijah was still on the floor.

"Elijah mate, why are you on the floor ?"

He just continued to stare off. They looked at me and I shrugged.

"I don't know what happened. I walked out the bathroom, he spark his wine on the floor. Now we have to explain why we've stained their carpet."

                                                          ***

We are greeting other guests and trying to find my brother. When I spot him he walks over. He hugs me and spins me around.

"God I missed you Y/N !"

"I missed you too Y/B/N, like you wouldn't believe. I would like to introduce you to some people I bought. This is Elijah, my boyfriend and has been for a couple of months now and-"

I introduced Elijah who was back to normal after I gave him a kiss apparently it was because I looked so beautiful. I cut myself off when going to introduce the brothers because when I looked over at them. They were the only two causing trouble, Kol was consistently flirting with married women and Klaus threatening people.

"and that's it. They are NOT with us."

Elijah and I looked at each other and he nodded. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the brothers, grabbing them by the wrists and dragging them over.

"Y/B/N these are Elijah's brothers. Kol and Klaus."

"Nice to meet you all, it's a shame I can't talk more to Elijah. I guess it's hard to talk to him when your sister doesn't tell you about him."

I looked down to the floor and back up innocently.

"I love you."

"I love you too. Right, we need to start getting ready."

"Okay go."

                                                        ***

Flashback

I was sitting nervously on a couch at Elijah's House when he walks in with two good looking gentlemen.

"Y/N my darling, I would like for you to meet my brothers Kol and Niklaus."

"Call me Klaus. All my friends do."

He grabs my hand and kisses it. I blushed hard before most fortunately it disappeared, very quickly.

Kol walks closer and kisses me on the cheek and as he pulls away winks. Unfortunately, the blushed arose. Once again.

"Nice to meet you darling."

They are all insanely charming and flirtatious, it's nerve racking. No wonder, why they have so many female admirers.

                                                         ***

I remember how different the greetings were for me and my brother. They were more chilled with my brother although still mischievous, yet with me it was flirtatious and misbehaving.

I can live with it now though. The flirtatiousness, I get enough from Elijah so I'm used to it. Kol and Klaus now are more comedic in my eyes with their fake sentiments of love for me, annoying Elijah and even bursting into our room after I've taken a shower to see if they scare me enough to drop my towel. Although, that's more Kol.

All I can say is, I'm way more comfortable with them now and I couldn't be happier to know that Elijah and I are going to last, a gut feeling tells me so.

OUTFIT

MASTERLIST

[locktobre]

In your Barbie-verse, what was it like for Rip growing up, and when he was an adult, post-getting out of fairy prison? Also, what happened to his mom? In the movies, we don't see her, and iirc, she was never mentioned, so I just assumed she died at some point, or Break was just a single dad.- That PCS Anon

Rip backstory is my favorite and I sure have a lot of it lmao

Rip’s mother was Barbra “Barb” Bloom, and she died when he was 9 (his brother Chuck was 11). But up to that point, Rip actually had a pretty good childhood. Barb also has a power, she was pretty sure, but it was so nebulous she could neither prove nor quite define it--either the ability to always find what she was looking for, or simply being in the right place at the right time, one of the two. Break didn’t believe it, and she didn’t bring it up a lot, since again, she couldn’t really explain the feelings she got, she just knew that some moments were special.

When Rip first started seeing things, she thought he was just being an imaginative kid, but then she realized it could actually be magic when she noticed that like... Rip doesn’t really have that great of an imagination. He’s more analytical, he doesn’t really color outside the lines or tell lies or get in trouble. Idk how to explain it, but sometimes ppl just seem like the type to say anything, you know? And then there’s ppl you can’t imagine ever lying or doing anything crazy or anything like that.

Anyway, so they were in it together while she was alive, and he had her there to talk about what he was seeing. But then she died, and Rip took it very hard. Everyone did, but Rip lost the one person he could really talk about magic with. And on top of that, he didn’t even know if he believed in magic anymore, bc if Barb was in the right place at the right time, she wouldn’t have been hit by that car, would she? So he doesn’t know what to believe, bc if she was wrong about her magic, then was she wrong about his? How does he know that he’s not just crazy? And he can’t talk to Break about it, bc Break does not believe. Chuck doesn’t really, either, but he’s nicer about it.

So that all leads to sort of a downward spiral as Rip grows up, bc he doesn’t always trust his perceptions. And that leads to the desperation to just jump thru a flyway when he’s 17, he was really not in a good place at the time. I touched on it in my other post, but he was gone for a couple weeks, and Break legitimately thought he was dead. And then when he tried to explain about the flyways and getting lost, of course that just pissed off Break even more bc it’s just more of Rip’s bullshit, right? So Rip eventually just says he ran away and then came back when he ran out of money (which is kinda-sorta the truth, if you strip the magic out). So Break’s furious with him (and so is Chuck), he’s grounded forever... But that’s actually a good turning point for him, bc he met Lilliana. And after the flyways, and Lilliana giving him some (begrudging) answers, he knows he’s not crazy. His friendship with Lilliana only lasts a few months, but by the time she cuts him off he’s friends with Finn, who may not believe him but also doesn’t fight him at every turn when he brings up magic, he’s more like lmao ok buddy whatever you say, which is honestly better than what Rip gets at home. And Finn does come around awhile to like wait no shit, really? For real? Which Rip can’t really believe but he’s so grateful.

Anyway so that’s up to 1989. Fast forward a couple years to 1991. Finn and Anne have been together for awhile, but Finn’s kind of like... He doesn’t want to break up with Anne, he still loves her a lot, but since their relationship has to be a secret, and it can’t really be any other way, it’s starting to wear on him. And he’s started to develop some romantic feelings for Rip that he wants to pursue, in part bc it would be much easier, honestly. But when he brings this up to Anne, she really doesn’t want to break up with him, either, so she says that he should just date Rip, too. And Finn’s like and... you’d be fine with that? And Anne’s like I will learn to be, anyway. And Finn’s not really sure if this will work or if Rip will even go for it. Rip is hesitant but he’s open to basically whatever so he’s like we can try it for awhile, I guess. Anne really makes an effort to be chill but it is hard on her and Rip’s like maybe we shouldn’t do this and Anne’s like I think the problem is that we don’t really know each other. Like Rip and Anne aren’t really friends, they’ve obviously met before but never really hung out one on one so Rip really knows her as Finn’s girlfriend, and she knows him as Finn’s weird friend. So they decide to start trying to get to know each other and be friends.

Rip doesn’t talk about any magic stuff with Anne for a couple reasons, one of which is that he doesn’t want to come off any weirder than he does when he’s trying to befriend the woman, and also bc she’s a royal and Rip does not care for royals. Not bc of anything politically, he just doesn’t think they are careful enough with magic and he doesn’t trust them with it. (He doesn’t trust anyone with magic, actually. Not humans, not fairies, not anyone.) So he has to give her the edited version of events when she’s like have you dated anyone before? And Rip’s like it wasn’t really dating but I did have a brief relationship with Lilliana Roxelle and Anne’s like. You mean the French supermodel? And Rip’s like yeah and Anne’s like how did you even meet her and he’s like I crashed her NYE party. And Anne doesn’t know what to make of him, bc it’s such a wild, specific thing to say that it could be a lie but it just feels like it’s true, bc why not say something more believable if you were going to lie? Anyway Rip’s more chill about not being believed at this point bc he has one person on his side again (Finn), so he just shrugs it off. And they just kinda move on and talk about their families and not getting along with their fathers, which are very different situations but it’s enough to commiserate over, and they just keep going like that.

And at the beginning of this, remember, Anne thinks of Rip as just Finn’s weird friend. She has no idea what he sees in Rip, romantically. (Or platonically, for that matter. Like he’s fun to hang out with but why not literally anyone else?) And Rip’s not super good looking, either. Like, he’s handsome enough, but you probably wouldn’t look at him twice. (He’s Break’s son, so that kinda limits how hot he can be lmao.) But he just has something about him. Like, when you talk to him, you get his full attention, he’s really supportive and sympathetic and he always feels like he gets what you’re going thru. So Anne starts to get it, and then she’s like wait am I catching feelings for this guy? THIS guy? And yeah, she is. So the three of them actually end up dating for awhile, which is a lot more complicated but they like each other enough to make it work.

However, meanwhile, Rip has met Calissa. And she’s a mermaid, and a queen, and she’s married, and she has a kid, but... Well. The heart wants what it wants. So Rip has to break it off with Finn and Anne. He can explain to Finn about Calissa, so they could maybe still date, but he can’t really tell Anne about a mermaid, and if he doesn’t tell her she’s a mermaid he doesn’t really have a good excuse for why they can’t ever meet this other girl and it just feels weird. And it’s already complicated, he can’t be in so many complicated relationships at once. And Anne’s really confused about why Rip would break it off, until he says that the girl he wants to see is already married, and Anne’s pissed that Rip would pursue something with a married woman. And he says he knows it’s wrong but... he’s gonna do it anyway. (He can’t exactly say that she’s not in love with her husband but can’t get a divorce bc she’s a queen and it would be a political nightmare... Which might not help, anyway, but at least it’s better than interfering in a loving marriage, right? Right?) Anyway, Anne thinks he’s not the man she thought he was and she doesn’t even want to be friends with him anymore. Finn still is, but they don’t hang out the three of them pretty much ever again.

Rip has his secret relationship with Calissa, she gets pregnant, and then they don’t really know what to do bc they don’t know if it’s Caligo’s baby and it’s fine or if it’s Rip’s baby and they need to panic. But as her pregnancy progresses, she’s pretty sure it’s Rip’s bc the baby’s movement feels different, she’s pretty sure the baby has legs and not a tail. So they really start to panic. Rip obviously wants to take the baby, but he can’t just show up at home with a random kid and say that hey btw my mermaid girlfriend gave birth. Break would think he was insane. Anyway so that’s when Rip gets the idea to fake his death, which he does. And he moves down the coast a ways and raises baby Merliah for about a year, until the Gloss Angeles guard track him down.

Cue botched execution and 17 year exile in Fairytopia, and then he returns to Earth in December 2012.

And life is actually... pretty damn good. He’s reunited with Calissa and Merliah, and his dad now knows he wasn’t lying about seeing fairies and meeting a mermaid and all of that. He has a lot to contend with, re-adjustment-wise, with how much the world has changed in the intervening time, and he also has 2 other daughters he had no idea about, and then Calissa gets pregnant with twins pretty fast so there’s a lot going on, but he’s used to chaos and having to learn about new environments so he takes it in stride, pretty much. He also reconnects with Finn (at Merliah and Kylie’s urging), so he even gets his old friend back.

And then, in 2016, a year post-RNR, Finn tells Anne that Rip’s alive. Which is in response to her telling him about keeping Sloane from him, and so he takes the opportunity to say I’ve actually been keeping something from you, too. (Idk if those two secrets are roughly equal, but for the characters I’m going to say they are.) And so Anne reconnects with Rip, too, and finally gets brought into the loop and learns about Rip’s powers and what really went down with him and Calissa and all of that. Which is a big shock but also he has some helpful advice about how to approach the situation with Sloane, having done it twice himself lmao. So honestly, everything comes up roses for Rip. He gets to live the rest of his life in quiet domesticity, which is all he ever really wanted.

The ONLY thing that kinda sucks is that due to how mermaids (and fairies) age, Calissa basically looks the same for their whole marriage. So as he gets older, she looks more and more like some young trophy wife, and he hates that anyone looking at him would think he’s some weird old man lmao. (He’s only 3 years older than her in actuality.) But that’s basically the only thing that sucks. Everything else in his life is very good, bc he deserves that goddammit.