#turns out my high school health teacher was right. sleeping three hours then waking up then sleeping 5 hours is fine. but!

[orionangeline]

I'm such a girl who's a guy who doesn't get much sleep. Also I sleep all the time

[poptod]

The Breeding Kings, pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The blacksmith.

Notes: I Love this story but i know yall arent that interested in it which is kinda yikes for me but theres no way im not finishing this fic whether its now or two years from now WC: 7.8k (again im so sorry)

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By the time you and Ahkmen actually made it out of the pyramid, most of the stars had vanished, and the dawning light of the sun sparked a panic in the Prince's heart. He hurried you back to the shore, picking you up and setting you in the boat before pushing the boat far into the water. Constant glances over your head let him keep an eye on the shore, on the rotating guards at the gates, and where was best to tie the canoe back up.

In the end, he found a spot as far away from the gates as possible, securing the boat before helping you out of the rickety contraption.

"Have you school?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered beneath his breath, adjusting his belt.

With that he took your hand, jogging down the wooden docks until you came to the entrance. He ran through that as well, terrified of anyone recognizing him, and didn't leave enough time for you to think on it long. Ever respectful, he saw you home before sprinting back to the palace by himself, wind burning his eyes all the way up.

For the next couple days he took extra care in his physical health. Learning to calculate the time of day and its' relation to the curvature of the earth, while in the blazing heat of the sun, had not fared well on his sleep-deprived mind. When he returned home that evening, he slept over 12 hours in a dead faceplant on his bed. Upon waking he found Piye looming above him with a knowing expression.

"How much time have you been spending with that Yogi?" They asked in a clearer, less clogged voice than Ahkmen had been able to manage through the amount of beer he'd had recently, paired with how little sleep he had.

"Didn't come home one evening," he grumbled, raising his hand to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. "Got a lot of sleep last night, though."

"I can see that. Get up. We've got some time yet before the weekend," Piye said with a clap that roused the young Prince.

"Good morning, my Prince," said Naguib, who slipped in through the door. "The Pharaoh's dinner with the emissaries from Ebla is tonight. He wants you there."

"I have other places to be," Ahkmen whined, his shoulders drooping as he looked up.

"So does he," Piye said flatly.

School passed by without him ever seeing you, a fact that disappointed him more than it saddened him. His mood got him into a small verbal bout with one of his teachers, and though Piye tried to hold him back, the school day ended with him in one of the study rooms watching Yafeu argue with his father.

Ahkmen huffed, resting the weight of his head on his open palm balanced on the table in front of him. Yafeu couldn't tell him that he wasn't allowed in the school anymore, but the Priest would do his best to make sure Ahk got the second best punishment.

"I expect more from you, Ahkmen," his father said quietly as they walked side by side back to the palace. "None of your brothers have the skills or the wherewithal to lead a country. That responsibility may fall to you."

"Kamun is the oldest, isn't he?" Ahkmen grumbled. "He's the one who's going to be Pharaoh."

"Nothing is set in certainty, my son. Now then, in a few hours the Eblans will arrive, and a dinner will follow."

"Does that mean I have some free time, then?" Ahk asked with a sudden, bright change in tone.

"I want you to get ready," Merenkahre said, frowning. "Not play around with your friends."

"I'll only be there an hour at most," he said, playing off his own innocence.

The Pharaoh paused in the street to look down at Ahkmen, before letting out a long sigh.

"Very well. One hour."

Ahkmen didn't wait to return to his room––he turned and immediately set back off down the road, dashing and twisting through the crowds that formed the closer he got to the temple of Osiris. He barely looked to see where his hands and feet were as he climbed over the familiar crates, landing back in your alley and ducking back into your home.

To his surprise, Piye was already sitting in your waiting room, their feet set on a high shelf with their butt in a pile of blankets.

"Oh, hello Ah–"

You entered the room with massive goggles on.

"-hhh whhhat's up?" Piye corrected with wide eyes.

"... not much," Ahkmen said slowly. "I have a dinner with my parents in an hour, so I can't stay for long."

"I do need one help," you said as you pulled your goggles off, examining the material in your glove-clad hands. "I need a.. a..."

You snapped your fingers, attempting to recall the name of something. Ahk and Piye waited patiently.

"A kaentam," you muttered before a curse. "It is the rocks that kiss."

Piye stared at you dumbfounded, their mouth half open.

"You mean a magnet?"

"I think, yes," you said, though you didn't look sure. "Panya and her rock are still not... I do not know the type of her rock. I need your 'magnet' for to find the – the name."

"Well it's not exactly easy to find magnets," Ahkmen said slowly, picking at his chin as he thought.

"No, yeah," Piye agreed in the same contemplating tone. "I know they're used in medicine, but it's a... an unconventional treatment. Kind of expensive."

Ahk stared at the ground, continuing to play with the skin of his jaw.

"I think I know where we might find some," Ahk said after a moment.

"What is it?" You asked, stepping nearer.

"Osiris' temple. Priests have areas for medicine, and we already know the layout of the place."

"It's late, though. We're not allowed to enter after sunset," Piye pointed out.

"That's why it's good we know the layout!" Ahk said as he stood. "Now let's go."

"Don't you have a formal dinner in an hour?" Piye asked, watching Ahkmen leave out the door with a quirked brow.

"Let's gooo!" Ahkmen sang from outside.

Anything to distract from the coming responsibilities––anything to earn your favor, to win you over in some fashion he was convinced he hadn't already won you over in. You followed him out with a smile, murmuring a small greeting and thanks before Piye also appeared from behind you.

"And onwards we go, to Osiris, to Osiris," Ahk sung as he scaled the crates, followed by you and Piye in order.

"We have obtained," Piye continued the song with a grunt, "forever and ever, what your Grace will gift us."

"You talk like your heads have nothing in their side," you said, to Ahkmen's great amusement.

As Ahkmen originally suspected, most of the temple's inhabitants were too preoccupied with the evening adulations to notice three children, however strange looking, entering the complex. Ahk entered first, donned in his usual golden fabrics, followed by Piye, who by themselves always looked out of place no matter where they were or what they wore, and then you, a child at Piye's side, dressed in an unfamiliar but royal fashion.

Murmurings and voices could be heard from the tall roof of Osiris' temple, where many of the hour priests gathered to scan the heavens. Already the brightest stars shone through the light of sunset, a fact Ahkmen was quite glad about, since it would keep attention off him.

"Yafeu's room here has many, many supplies," Ahkmen whispered as the three of you crept down the open hallway.

"How do you know that?" Piye asked.

"I was sent there so he could yell at me and he's got bookcases and chests worth of things in there. What a monetary bastard," Ahk said with a tut, chuckling from his own humor.

When he reached the door to Yafeu's office, he slowly turned the lock, letting the wood door swing open with a creak. He motioned Piye in, then you, before following in himself, locking the door behind him.

Although Ahkmen might've been privy to the private belongings of the high priest, you and Piye shared no such knowledge. Piye, who had to bow down slightly due to the height of the ceiling, slowly scanned the room, from the pots to the jars and tapestries hanging from the walls. A reed mat had been set on the floor, keeping away the dirt and sand anyone might drag in.

"Where does he keep his medical supplies?" Piye asked quietly, taking a ginger step forward as they scanned the shelves with their eyes. When they spotted nothing useful, they began to rifle through them with their hands.

"No clue. Let's start, shall we?"

The three of you set to searching the room, categorically searching the different shelves––Piye for the tallest two, Ahk for the middle, and you for the lowest. You tried your best to keep quiet, wary of those who passed by outside the door.

"Why do you need a magnet again?" Ahkmen asked after several minutes of silent searching.

"Panya's rock seems iron in a... clean.. way? It is.. not how you see it in earth, and I don't know it. But your magnet will," you made a motion with your hands of them colliding together, "if I am right."

"You must know quite a lot about metals," Piye said, not bothering to tear away from the work at hand. You and Ahkmen, however, had stopped to look at each other when he spoke.

"My family is... kaghruppakal, moving.. metal, to make into things," you said as you reluctantly returned to the baskets on the bottom shelves.

"Blacksmiths," Piye said.

"Thank you," you said. "My father father's had it learned by the Kings in my home. They give us a good home for years, but they give no... money. So when new King comes, we had no home after."

"What do you mean, new King?" Ahk asked with a confused furrow in his brow.

"It is long and I do not know the how to say in Egyptian, but a man killed the King and stole his name," you said quietly.

"Is that why you left your home?" Ahkmen asked. "There was a revolution?"

"More of a usurping," Piye muttered.

"A little, yes," you said with a nod, before falling quiet.

Ahkmen waited a moment to see if you would say anything else, and a moment to wonder if he would say anything else, but ultimately returned to scavenging through Yafeu's belongings.

Statuette.

More gold bracelets.

Ancient scripture.

"You have to leave for that dinner pretty soon," Piye said in a dull voice.

"I don't need to leave for anything or anyone."

"Ureka!" you suddenly cried, a toothy smile coming to you as you forgot yourself.

Ahkmen and Piye both shushed you, to which you quickly apologized in a much quieter voice.

"I saw them," you said, extending in your hand a pair of magnets stuck to one another.

"Oh thank Gods," Piye said in a rush of breath, their hands immediately falling from the tall shelves. "Let's get back and see if it reacts to your stone."

"No, no, I bring it here," you mumbled distractedly as you dug into your large pockets, pulling out the shiny metal.

He watched in bated breath as you raised the magnets to Panya's stone. The whole of the process meant little to him, but it was part of your job, and he enjoyed partaking in little bits of your life.

This handicapped understanding of your work left him rather confused at your excitement when the magnets stuck to Panya's rock. You gasped, marveling at the reaction. As you moved to your feet, you never looked away, holding it close to your chest.

"Irumpu," you said through your smile. "Iron."

"I'm quite glad you've figured this out, but for the time being, we need to get out of here without being spotted," Ahkmen said, putting his hands on your shoulders before gently moving you aside, and opening the door a crack.

Piye spoke in a mumble with you as he stuck his head outside, the cool air of night filling his lungs, distinct from the stuffy walls of Yafeu's office. There were few people in the courtyard, as most of the priests and workers were still preoccupied with their finishing tasks for the night.

He motioned the two of you over, leading you silently outside. You crept along the wall with quick feet, skipping out of the temple, and running back into your home in a smiling rush.

The rush of adrenaline in his blood soon dissipated, comforted by the familiar shades of red and gold always resting upon your crown. Still staring at the metal, you collapsed down in your cushion pile, moving to hold the ball above your head as you stared. Ahkmen chuckled at your behavior, taking a seat beside you as Piye fell in a similar manner as you did across the room.

"Happy?" Ahk asked teasingly.

"Very," you said. "I must to find who had made it. The old King shows my father father's how to make it, but I never ask. And," you snapped your fingers, "then it is gone. When they go."

"Your grandfather knew how to purify and mold iron?" Piye asked in a low but loud voice, sitting quickly up.

"Yes, and it is good for..." you made a stabbing motion, "things that make people dead."

"Weapons," said Ahkmen.

"Etuvaka. Not many know how it makes, and that is how – why we come here. Makes better money, more than a city. Our city, people know how to," you mimicked squishing and molding things in your empty hands, "do with iron, so it is all every shop. Here, it was my family, only my family."

"That must've been quite the business at the time," Piye said in a softer voice, still low as they contemplated your words.

"We make good money," you said with a nod. "But I know this not. I want... to see.. find the maker. Hear his words."

"You'll probably want to see Panya, then," Ahk said. "It was her who found it, right?"

"I think yes."

"Wonderful. You'll go find her, and I will take him home," Piye said as they stood, gesturing to Ahk with their chin. "Dinner, remember?"

"Has anyone told you how irritating you are?" Ahkmen said, but nonetheless obeyed and stood.

"Your father reminds me every day," Piye responded flatly as the two returned to the palace.

Ahkmen drummed his fingers against the table below him, leaning the weight of his head on his raised knee. His mother had forced him into his royal clothes––the actual royal clothes, not just the expensive ones––and the crown his parents had made him gave him headaches with its' weight. Pure gold was heavy.

Ebla was a trading nation from the north who supplied a small but important type of material rarely found in the desert; wood. That was what Merenkahre and the Eblaite queen spent two hours talking about. Wood. They brought other goods such as rarely-found textiles and handcrafted artifacts as well, but they focused on the wood. It made sense, since that was what Egypt required the most, but it still bored him terribly.

Piye was much luckier by his reckoning. They didn't have to attend duties such as these. All the things they had to do were fun, things like gathering ingredients from the markets or the side of the Nile, going off on quests to defeat mythical beasts.

The young prince huffed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from tapping his fingers too loudly. Walls of grandeur surrounded him, a good enough difference from your home that he was nearly shocked when he entered his own home, staring up at the towering ceiling. His style was slowly changing, as it usually did, to accommodate new aspects of his life; this had happened before on many occasions, as he suspected it did with many other teenagers his age.

A dream to look at. He would reckon your smile would match against any angelic beauty––anything holy was a common miracle in comparison to the subtle, entrancing magic of your laughter, his hand holding yours as he dragged you, pretending not to notice the racing of his heartbeat. A dream.

He wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and drown you in kisses. In order to avoid his own disappointment at his fantasy not currently being reality, he bit deeper into the inside of his cheek, pressing down harder on his open palm.

Hours later, he stared up at the canopy of his bed, the sheets tossed around his body till most of them hung half of the bed. His breathing was the only noise in the still room.

Until his breathing irritated him so fiercely he sat straight up in a huff, a frown on his forced expression.

"Fucking... thoughts," he muttered to himself, halfheartedly punching one of his pillows.

He could not manage to tear his mind from you. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of you, and adrenaline built in him as he unwillingly imagined your face. Would you mind if he came to see you? It must've been past midnight. You worked during the day. He shouldn't bother you.

Ten minutes later he was fully dressed and sneaking out of the palace, a shroud of cloth concealing his identity as he moved along the shadows. He reckoned Piye, who also slept inside the palace, did not want to see you at this hour, and he left them to sleep.

Ahkmen wasn't sure what he was looking for in returning to you, but as per usual, fantasies spared no expense in the luxurious self-indulgence department, scenes playing behind his eyes of the two of you 'naturally' finding yourselves in intimate situations. Most of it consisted of him finally getting some sleep, this time with you in his arms or wrapped around his waist.

Despite his embarrassment concerning previously mentioned fantasies, they did inspire him to move faster, and before he knew it he found himself standing in front of your tent, hesitating for the first time.

Again his doubts plagued him. He comforted himself with the fact that he had come all this way, and it seemed a rather foolish idea to give it up now.

With that he entered, his eyes immediately falling to the one candle lit in the shadowed room. The usual rushlights set about the entrance room––where he and his friends usually sat about and did nothing––had disappeared, leaving much of the folds of cloths in shadows that casted stark against the single flame.

"Yogi?" Ahk said in a much quieter voice than required.

The sound of rustling blankets had his heart sinking in his chest. He had hoped, at least, that he wouldn't bother you from your sleep––most of him believed you would be up all night working.

"Aganu?" You murmured softly, high and quiet with the sleep pulling at your lips.

"Uh, yes," he said, trying to peek behind the curtain separating your bedroom front your shop. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I thought you'd be up, I – I can leave."

"No, no," you mumbled. "Is good. Come here."

He gulped, gingerly stepping forward and pulling away the cloth door. Behind it, you lay in a pocket of space built into your fabric wall, drowning you in luxurious blankets of red and gold. All that remained visible was your eyes, an adoring sight in his mind.

"Why've you got that light in the other room?" Ahk asked quietly, kneeling down in front of you.

"More not strong. It is very red," you said, poking your finger out to gesture to the room as a whole. "Good for night sleeping. Why are you coming here?"

"You mean your house or your bed?" Ahk said, stepping away as he became aware of his closeness to you.

"My house."

"Couldn't sleep," he said with a shrug. "Thought you might be able to help."

"Why?" You asked, before backtracking. "Wait, that is not the word I mean. Um... how do you want help?"

"I don't know. Maybe you have a potion, or just a better bed than I do," he said, chuckling.

"I have both."

"Hey, you haven't even felt my bed," he said in a teasing manner. "How do you already know your bed's better?"

"Because it is not hard."

Fair enough point––Egyptian beds were essentially a table built for the purpose of sleeping. Good for the hot weather, bad for the joints.

"I don't want to disturb you, though," he said quietly as you began to rise, sheets and thick blankets falling from your shoulders to reveal the naked expanse of your chest and stomach. He gulped, though fortunately not audible, as you stretched your hands up.

"It is no problem," you said, sighing deeply as your arms fell.

Rooting around in your bed, you found a large but thin blanket, wrapping it around your body before you left your comforts. You yawned as you stood, but faithfully wandered to your potion storage. Ahkmen had never seen any of your potions, as he didn't believe a hangover cure counted as one, and thus he looked eagerly over your shoulder when you knelt down. Glass and pottery clinked together as you searched.

"What kind of potions do you make?" Ahk asked, stepping back when you once more rose to your feet.

"To help bodies," you said, gesturing to your own body, "and soul." You tapped your heart.

He frowned. Obviously.

"Do you have like, a love potion?"

"Why you ask that?"

"Just curious," he said quickly.

"I have... khamam potion. You make a man drink it and they will.. have..." you trailed off, unable to explain fully. "Love to you? When they make the children."

"Sex?"

"Sure. They do the sex. Man or woman," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand.

"How do you make a potion like that?"

"You think I give it with no paying? I must make money, Aganu," you chuckled softly, bopping his nose with your finger, before sobering to speak. "This is a potion that will make you calm. Ready for sleep, yes."

"Oh, thank you," Ahkmen said, taking the small, clay bottle. "How much do I owe you?"

"Speak more about the sky."

He quirked a brow.

"That's your price?"

"I want to know more. I go to school to clean, not hear, but I want to," you said, taking his hands in your cloth-covered hands, and staring upwards. "I am alive to see and hear and I want to hear you."

You couldn't be aware of the effect of your words. Not with eyes that innocent. But, as usual, his heart raced painfully in his chest, overflown with an affection he had no choice but to hold back.

"... very well," he murmured, and led you back to your bed. You crawled in, surrounding yourself in blankets once more as Ahk sat on the floor, carefully watching your sleepy, fluttering eyes.

"The sky––well, more specifically the night sky, is a woman. Her name is Nuit. At sunset, her head in the west consumes Ra, and in the morning, she births him again. Her eyes are the sun and moon. Her lover, Geb, is the earth, but they are forever forced apart by Ra, who placed their father to separate them," Ahk said, reciting information he had long known. "His name is Shu. He is the air that lets us breathe."

"Why did Ra want them apart?" You asked quietly, muffled behind your blankets.

"Nuit became pregnant by Geb. Ra found it an abomination, cursed her to never give birth on any day of the year. But Thoth helped her––won a few games of Senet against Khonsu, god of time, and earned her five days in which she gave birth to five children."

"Who?"

"Osiris on the first day. That's his temple you work at. Then I believe it was.. Horus.. Seth, Isis, and her sister, Nephthys." He paused to yawn. "Those are the epagomenal days, at the end of the year. Pretty big celebration."

"I like to see this," you mumbled.

"I'll take you this next year," he said. "There's plenty of food and beer for everyone."

Your breathing was beginning to slow, and when Ahk noticed that, he fell into silence. Instead he stared at your closed eyes, your cheek squished into your pillow. Too much to look at. The better half of him yearned to reach out and touch you, but the remaining bits of his conscious reminded him that that was, beyond anything, an incredibly strange thing to do.

He was even more grateful for his decision to remain still when your eyes opened on an inhale, blinking slowly as you met his gaze.

"Tired?" You asked. "Potion does not takes long."

He chuckled, "yeah. I'm pretty tired now."

"What time does it take to walk to your house?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe thirty minutes."

"You are.. you will fall by then," you murmured.

"Asleep?"

"Yes. It is a strong potion."

You paused, scanning his body and its' position near you.

"Remain here," you said, soft as the silk you drowned yourself in. "For the night."

The rope around his heart tightened at your request. His imagination, somehow, had come to fruition.

"Where will I sleep?" He asked, fighting back another yawn.

"All places. Do what you want," you sighed. "Or you fall sleep in the street."

"Very funny. Scoot over."

You glared up at him, but eventually gave in, scooting closer to the wall to make room for him. He pulled his jewelry off him before sidling in, hoping to avoid hurting you accidentally.

When he turned to face you, he found his forehead crowning you, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

"Thanks," he murmured. "You didn't have to."

"I know," you whispered in a breath, closing your eyes.

Only a few hours later he was awakened by something prodding at his face. His eyes fluttered open, blearily finding Piye above him, poking his cheek with a fireplace fork. Ahkmen groaned, turning over on his side.

"Don't you ignore me, you royal pain," Piye said, prodding him harder yet. "Do you know how many lies I had to tell to your father?"

"Piye, it's way too early in the morning for this," he said groggily, throwing his arm over his eyes.

"It's midday!"

"I got here late," Ahkmen said as he slowly fell out of the bed, sliding onto the floor.

Piye grasped the top of Ahk's head by his hair, lifting his face and kneeling to meet him.

"I swear to the Gods if you had sex with a ci–"

"I did not," Ahk hissed, wriggling till Piye's grip loosened.

Reluctantly, Ahkmen rose to his feet, brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes and pulling your blankets off the floor, placing them back on the bed. The lumps in the cloth suggested your presence, but as he pulled them away he found the rest of the bed empty. He stepped back in surprise.

Piye looked over his shoulder, frowning as they, too, saw your absence.

"Isn't this Yogi's bed?"

"It was last night," Ahk said.

"I am here," you said from behind. Ahk whirled around, coming face to face with you struggling to pull on a large, ornate coat.

"Oh. What are you doing?" Ahk asked with a frown.

"I am placing my coat."

"We can see that," Piye said flatly. "It's hot outside. Why do you need it."

"Pockets," you said, opening your jacket to reveal a plethora of pockets sewn into the inner seams. "I do go to market now. I will see for the man that had made this."

You reached into one of your pockets, pulling out the block of pure iron some blacksmith had thrown away.

"Will I go to Panya? If she wants to?" You asked, pocketing the metal once more.

"Probably should," Ahk said with a yawn, stretching his hands high enough that they raised the cloth ceiling. Piye nodded in agreement.

"She likes to stay in control," Piye added.

"I can help you get there," Ahk offered expectantly.

"Oh! Thanks many," you said, grinning wide. "I do not know to find her."

"I better come too," said Piye, who crossed their arms. "He always seems to get into trouble without me there."

"You say that as though I don't get into trouble when you're with me, too," Ahk chuckled.

"I'm not in the mood today, Ahk," Piye whispered, gripping Ahk's upper arm tight enough to leave temporary marks.

"Then don't come along," Ahk whispered back. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Piye glared at him but said nothing, walking swiftly out the door and closing the flap behind them. It left Ahkmen once more alone with you, awkwardly shuffling his feet as you prepared yourself, carefuly to remember all your tools.

"Thank you, again," Ahkmen said after a moment of silence. "For letting me sleep here."

"Yes, yes. Go now."

You pushed him out the door, following as you fixed the tassels of your pants. Thin ropes flipped every which way till you knotted them, tightening around your waist, before you set off towards the common streets. Ahkmen followed, though he couldn't see where Piye had gone.

Murmuring conversations surrounded him, circled by flocks of people heading towards Osiris' temple. Shoulders and feet pushed on him, shoving him about as he headed in the opposite direction, always searching for your scarlet red robes. They set you quite wide apart from the usual crowd, and thus the Prince used them as an identifier.

People cast looks in his direction as he continued to shove and push, a constant stream of shaky apologies tumbling from his mouth. He considered himself adept at moving through crowds, but he had clearly not gotten as much practice as you did, which combined with your smaller size, led you to stop far ahead to wait for him.

He panted as he reached you, pausing with a heavy chest.

"Feel you good?" You asked, quirking a brow.

"I don't do well when I haven't eaten in the morning," he said, his voice cracking as he bent over slightly, his hands on his knees.

"Funny Egyptian man," you laughed, reaching up to ruffle his already messy hair. "You are... too full of money."

"I wouldn't doubt that," he muttered, recalling the many luxuries his father had given him throughout his life.

"I buy your food, we will go," you said as you returned to walking, slow to allow him time to catch up.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, waving his hand dismissively as he rose to follow you. "I can pay for it. Don't waste your money."

"Right?"

"... yes," he said, after having given up on trying to decode what exactly you'd meant.

As the two of you entered the main streets of the city, the conversations of strangers grew louder, more densely packed between houses and stalls full of goods. Through the street you now walked down, there must've been at least five different spice carts. Careful mountains of cumin and ginger were placed in the corner of nearly every stop.

Near the end, he found a small stall of a woman selling beer. He reached for you, pausing your step as he dug into his own pocket, pulling out a silver ring.

"One cup, please," he asked, to which the lady politely acquiesced. He set the ring down on her counter. "Will this do?"

"... one more than that," she said, her gaze flickering from the ring to Ahk's eyes.

He pulled out another ring, and with that she handed him the cup, taking the rings simultaneously.

"Have a good day!" She said as the two of you left.

Ahkmen sipped at his drink with a satisfied sigh, relaxing into the sweet, familiar taste. Your drinks were good, but far too alcoholic to be worth any sustenance.

"I want a little," you said, moving on your toes so as to see inside his cup.

"Sure," he said, and handed it to you. You returned it after a couple swallows.

"We look for Panya, yes?" You asked.

"Oh, right. I'll take you to her house."

Panya didn't live far away from the center of town, so in a matter of minutes you were already knocking on her door. What you didn't expect, however, was for the High Priest of Osiris' temple to answer it.

He eyed you up and down, your odd way of dress, the dot on your forehead, before his gaze fell to Ahkmen. It was then his eyes narrowed, coldly recognizing the prince.

"What do you want," he said, leering down at you.

"Your daughter," said Ahk, who was leant against one of the pillars outside Panya's mansion of a house.

"You may not have her."

"I –"

Before Ahk could finish, something tugged on the inside of his arm, pulling him away from the doorstep. You didn't seem to notice, busy conversing with Yafeu. He turned round, stumbling with broken balance before he looked up, meeting Piye's eye.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, glancing back to you and the priest.

"I've been thinking," Piye murmured, leaning down to lessen the space between them, "I don't think we should go around the markets just talking about a purified iron. I think it might land you in trouble."

"Why?" He scoffed.

"I’ve been at all my father’s meetings with the Pharaoh and his generals and they’re talking about iron. How to get it, how to use it, how to control it, everything,” they said.

“Well why’s that a problem? They did the same thing with wood.”

"Not like this! Iron, it – it's incredibly strong. If we had armor made of that, shields made of it, weapons made of it, it'd give us an enormous amount of military power, and with your father in rule, I don't think that's a good idea," they said in a growing volume before they remembered Yafeu was there, and quieted down again.

"What's wrong with my father?!" Ahk gasped.

"Nothing!" Piye hissed, eyes darting back up to Yafeu to see if he had noticed. "He just has a habit of oppressing people!"

Ahkmen snorted. His hand shot up to cover his mouth, quiet giggles wracking his body.

"I'm sorry," he wheezed, "that shouldn't be funny. Sorry."

"It's fine," Piye said with a long sigh. "You know what I mean. If word gets to him that this little immigrant over here has a key to finding how to shape iron, he isn't going to take a visit and credit them with the discovery. He's going to deport them, cover it up, and claim he learned it from the Gods. You know everything’s a game to him."

Ahkmen's breath caught in his throat as Piye laid out the consequences in plain, simple terms he could understand. That would be the end of your friendship, but more importantly, it was also the end of your livelihood. You were still young––around his age––and you didn't know much else except living in Egypt. If he were to take your word, your home to the east was far, far away, and ruled by an unjust dictator. You would not make the journey there alone, let alone when you actually reached your city.

"What do you suppose we do?" Ahkmen said after a minute or two of deep thought.

"I think –"

"We can go here," you said, passing by them with Panya and, unsurprisingly, Unas bringing up the rear.

"Wait –"

He went to stop you, but Piye stopped him first.

"Best you don't tell them. We're not from the palace, remember?" Piye muttered, before promptly following you off the steps of Panya's house. Ahkmen, however disgruntled as he was, followed as well.

"I wish I was poor," he grumbled, walking alongside Piye, who kept a fair enough distance from you and your customers.

Piye struck him with a flat palm against the back of his head. The weight in his neck rolled forward, kinking it awkwardly, to which he let out a yelp of pain.

"Don't say that. Others in your country, in this city, starve. They would give anything to be you."

His frown drew tighter, irritant clogging his thoughts. Every inconvenience angering. He breathed deeply, willing the feeling away, and sped his pace to catch up to you. Panya might've been up there, but her presence would be a small price for yours.

The markets approached faster than he realized, and soon he was once more surrounded by strangers bartering and advertising. Thin tarps of orange and dusty yellow spread from one side of the thin street to the other, sheltering merchants from the hot sun, and allowing them to hang different products on the lines. He ducked under rings of cloth and over piles of incense, shakily following your wavy trail through the walkway.

Heat began to redden his cheeks, and it was then he realized that you'd made it to the blacksmith area of market, near to the kitchens. Fire stoking bread and metal filled the open air, made much clearer by the absence of the shading tarps.

"Uh, Yogi," he said, grabbing your shoulder to stop you before you could enter. "I think we should keep on the down-low, this purified iron, people might start talking."

You looked him up and down.

"Okay," you said, turning back round to enter the shop.

It took until evening before you made any progress. Most everyone you met was skeptical of you, which wasn't surprising considering the size and age of your group. But the last man you came to was still working, even as everyone around him ate dinner, readying to leave for home or staying for music.

He had long hair––longer than Piye's, trailing down to his mid-thigh. Unlike theirs, his was black, and much stringier in comparison. The knotted rope used to hold his hair back as he worked was crude at best, and one he had to constantly fix. Ahkmen didn't see it, but you noticed he was much skinnier than most of the other blacksmiths, who had grown muscles over the years of their work.

You approached him much like you approached everyone; a bright, commercial cheerfulness that came across as dangerously fake. To those who had spent good time in the markets, it was easy to see through. Those who hadn't, however, couldn't quite decode why you were unsettling, other than you being foreign.

"What did you say this was for again?" The man asked, his voice a quiet, low rasp. He had seated himself amongst your menagerie, matching the height of Piye, who was of course the tallest member.

"We are trying to find the owner of an amulet," Panya lied smoothly, pulling off one of her many necklaces and handing it to the man. "Or rather, the maker."

He took the necklace with skinny fingers, twisting it round in them as he surveyed the whole of it.

"Gold, ruby.. copper," he muttered, pointing to each of the different beads as though you could understand him mumbling. "Silver?"

Panya gestured for the amulet back, which he gave, and she strung it back around her neck.

"Iron. It's the purest we've ever seen and we're looking for the source," she said, pointing to the rest of the group.

"The durability is incredible. I would love to have access to that kind of things in my buildings and such," Unas added.

"I know," the blacksmith said, his hair still drooping long in front of his face. "I have been searching for a way to purify the ore, but I cannot get my fires hot enough. I keep getting... what might be iron, but it never looks right. Then again, I – I don't know what the correct product would look like."

Well then, Ahk thought, that explains why it was in the junkyard.

You leant over to Ahk, moving to your knees so your lips met his ear as you whispered.

"Can I show him what we found now?"

"Um.." his eyes darted over to Piye, who was listening intently to the man's woes, "sure."

Tapping on the blacksmith's shoulder, you brought his attention to you and the heavy malformed metal in your hand. His eyes widened, near imperceptive behind all his hair, but certainly filled with shock.

"Is that my...?"

"It is iron," you said with a grin. "I live in a city where lots of iron everywhere. Here, not so much, but that is iron."

"Unas found it in the junkyard in the southern part of Memphis," Panya said, pointing a thumb to her friend.

"Shit," the man breathed out, combing a hand through his hair. "I don't know which one that was."

"Which what?" Ahkmen asked.

"Which heat level," Unas answered for him. "It takes a specific amount to actually purify different ores. Otherwise you might burn it into a charcoal."

"And the all other rocks and," you motioned grinding your fist into the palm of your other hand, "the rocks you smash until they are sand."

"Powder," Ahk said.

"Yes. I see, when I was 5, my father has powder in his furnace, in the iron," you said with a variety of questionable hand motions. "Red, and... a bright black. Shiny."

Ahkmen listened intently for the next hour and a half as you, Unas, and the blacksmith conversed about smelting techniques. Apparently, all of you had, at one point, attempted to smelt iron out of the ore, a fact that was made appalling because Egypt didn't have any iron. Most of the iron within the country was either imported or from the meteor, which was confined to only serving the royal family.

Even Piye eventually tired of the conversation that never seemed to stray from smelting, though you did for a short time discuss techniques for copper. Piye had an incredible sense of patience, so when they tapped Ahk to tell him they were leaving, Ahk realized he usually would've left ten minutes into the conversation.

It clicked quite quickly that he wasn't really listening––he was watching you, and that had somehow occupied him for a full hour and a half. A creeping sense of embarrassment had him hunching his shoulders.

"Unas, we should go, we have that thing in the morning," Panya murmured into Unas' ear, though Ahkmen still caught it.

"Oh, right," he said in a deflated tone. He stood, brushing off his skirt before facing the blacksmith. "Thank you for your time. Is it alright if I come back sometime? Might be better to have more than one person working on this."

"How old are you?" The blacksmith asked in his usual mumble.

"16."

"... okay," he said after a moment. "You're old enough."

"Oh, good. Well thank you, anyway," Unas said, before motioning to Panya to leave. He bowed his head slightly as he left the circle of conversation, following his friend back into the markets.

As she left, Panya turned to walk backwards, holding her hands out to you. You quickly caught her drift, and threw the ball to her. She thanked you from a distance.

"We should leave soon as well," Ahk whispered to you.

A few minutes later, the two of you were once more walking side by side, wandering down the now-vacant streets. Ahkmen had no idea where you were going, but was along for the ride no matter where you ended up. As you hastened your step, you took Ahk's hand, forcing him to match your pace with a giddy laugh.

"The night is clear," you said, walking backwards to face him without halting your step. "You will show me the star shapes, yes?"

"The constellations," he said with a soft chuckle, his body filling with a warm, lighthearted haze. "Of course."

You led him back towards your home but ignored the alleyway entrance, instead reaching the doors of Osiris' temple. The tall walls marked themselves steep against your small stature, casting long shadows in the moonlight, that tonight shone like a shell of the sun. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died stillborn as you tugged him into you. His chest met yours as he stumbled clumsily.

"Be safe, funny man," you giggled, looking down at him as his head's weight rested awkwardly in the crook of your neck.

What little citylights remained in the dead of night faded away as you scaled the tower, your neck craned upwards to the heavens. No matter how tall the roof of the temple was, no matter how high you climbed, the stars never seemed to move any closer. Their distance must've been incomprehensible, but inconsequential when grasping Ahk's hand to help him onto the roof.

He panted softly as he stood on his feet once more, brushing off the dust that came from the temple walls. You left him to wander to the center of the stone plateau. His breathing slowed, attention centering on you as your eyes still stared up into empty space.

You turned, noticing the heat of his gaze.

"Speak to me," you said in a voice that moved like music. "You tell on Sopdet, yes? And.. Sah. Nuit and Geb."

"Lie down with me," he said.

You dutifully obeyed, sliding down next to him, your clothes and hair splayed out.

For a good hour he pointed up, tracing the outlines of constellations he had studied all his life. Since you didn't know their shapes on paper, he drew the images in the dirt and sand collected on the roof, showing you how random collections of dots made up women and beautiful creatures, the everlasting Gods in the sky.

"I want to be... something beautiful," he murmured, looking down at his own shoddy illustrations. "Like the stars."

"You had say that when you will die, you will go to the stars, right?" You asked softly.

"In death," he said with a small nod. "I will not be able to see this earth. I will be one amongst millions. It's strange, but... I wish I could stay here forever. A star close to home."

"You are scared of being nothing," you said. "But we are nothing. We are nothing to birds, or to other cities. We are already nothing and everything. It is what you choose to make of you––make more of your everything, or sleep in your nothing. There is happy things in both."

"No time wasted in happiness is truly time wasted?" He said, remembering a familiar anecdote from school.

"Yes," you said with a smile.

Silence filled the space for a few minutes, stilled by the slow breathing of Ahk's chest. He closed his eyes, exhaustion tugging at him, all of which he ignored.

"Aganu?" You said, nearly whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I like my hours with you," you murmured, wide, warm eyes staring bashfully at him.

"I do too."

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks for all the love this past week ❤️ It meant a lot to me.  Here’s 4600 words of subpar writing 😝 And FYI, we’re not getting too sad around here.  This is the only chapter they’ll be apart.  That means reunification next week!

April 12th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was with her family.  

It was Easter, and they were celebrating together, thankfully.  She was more grateful for it now more than ever, considering the state of the world.  She had stayed camped out at her apartment for the last two weeks with Kasha, who had come back from Evan’s place and was none the wiser about William being there for the fourteen days prior.  It made the most sense to Aberdeen because she still had to pay rent, and because she didn’t want to put Minerva through a stressful move again.  So, she stayed put.  Plus, now that she was living on her own, she’d know she’d go crazy if she lived with her family again.  Especially with Siena back from Ottawa because of classes in some weird state of limbo.  The sisters were thankful that Camden was independent enough to be able to learn on his own and not be constantly watched – and so was Orla.  She had enough to tackle, having her grade one class turned into online learning until further notice.  Everything was messy, and unprecedented, and weird, and not understandable, and weird, and chaotic, and confused.  

But Aberdeen had her family.  And Aberdeen had Willy.  

They’d kept their promise about calling each other every night.  Aberdeen would lay in bed and put in her headphones (so Kasha wouldn’t hear) and they’d FaceTime each other for a majority of the night, alone in their rooms, talking about anything and everything.  Sometimes they’d fall asleep talking, and their phones wouldn’t shut off, and Aberdeen would wake up an hour later and see the brightness of her phone screen still lit up, and she’d see William sleeping on the other end, his face so peaceful yet so burdened with responsibility of caring for his siblings while his parents and other siblings were eight hours and an entire continent and ocean away, and she wouldn’t have the heart to end the call.  

Things were fine in Tampa, from what he told her.  Jacquie had calmed down considerably.  Alex was…Alex – always trying to make jokes and make light of the situation.  They barely left their house, but because there were three of them there, it wasn’t too bad.  There were a lot of board games played, a lot of Netflix series watched.  From across the countries, Aberdeen and William were watching Tiger King together.  She didn’t think she’d watched anything as horrifyingly crazy.  William would crack jokes about her putting him in a meat grinder and feeding him to tigers.  She could only giggle.  

She knew that today the siblings were going to go for their first “outing”, just to get some sunshine, along the Courtney Campbell Bridge.  She hoped the weather would cooperate for them.  And once they were all home, and once Aberdeen was back at her place, the routine would begin, and she’d crawl into bed, and she’d FaceTime Willy to hear all about it.

Good Friday meant they had fish.  Easter Monday meant Orla’s roasted lamb and much of the same sides that were prepared on Christmas.  They’d still video chat with their grandparents, Camden would still play hockey in the driveway, and Aberdeen and Siena would go down into the basement and watch episodes of Brooklyn 9-9 or another show.  Routines, in a time of a global pandemic that brought so much uncertainty, were accepted with warmth.  Even for just a day, life was going to feel normal.  Orla and Mirza had even gone so far as to get their kids chocolate eggs.  It didn’t matter that the youngest didn’t believe in the Easter Bunny anymore or that the girls were in their early twenties – the gesture went farther than that.  They were all together again, even if it was just for the day.  

When Orla placed the roasted lamb at the centre of the table, asking Mirza for his plate first, Aberdeen took a giant whiff of the smell and immediately felt more relaxed.  She filled her plate with carrots and asparagus and Yorkshire pudding before her mom piled on the lamb and sauce.  

“So where’s our good friend William these days?” Orla asked as she finished serving everybody and sat down in her seat.  She immediately grabbed her knife and fork to dig in.  “He didn’t want to come for Easter?”

“I’m sure he wanted to come and have your lamb, darling,” Mirza said.

“He’s in Tampa,” Aberdeen answered, smiling slightly at her parents’ interaction.  “His brother and his sister went there at the start of lockdown, and so when he was good to go too, he went.”

“William quarantined for fourteen days too?” Mirza asked.  “Why?”

“He spoke to one of his Swedish friends on the Predators so he had to.  I bet the whole team did,” she explained.  

“Did you guys quarantine together?” Siena asked.

Aberdeen rolled her eyes.  “Hah.  Good one.”

“William has sisters?” Camden asked.

“He has three,” Aberdeen smiled.  “All of them are younger than him.”

“I can’t imagine three of you and Siena.”

Everybody at the table snorted.  “We can’t imagine three of you either, buddy,” Siena quipped back.

Camden smiled, then focused his attention back to Aberdeen.  “So what’s he doing in Tampa?”

“I don’t know.  Hanging out with his brother and sister.”

“Why don’t you call him and ask?”

“Camden,” Aberdeen said, “I can’t just call William Nylander and ask him what he’s doing so my little brother can know,” her tone made it seem like it was the most out-of-this-world idea.  But it was a total lie.  William would be at her beck and call – he always was.  If she called him right now, he’d answer.  If she called him and asked him what he was doing because Camden wanted to know, he’d answer her and tell Camden what he was doing.  He was just like that.

“I think the most important question we should be asking about William, considering the circumstances in our world right now, is whether or not he’s safe in Tampa,” Mirza interjected.  He stuffed a roasted potato into his mouth.  “Is he safe?”

Aberdeen nodded.  “He’s safe.  And he’s with his family, just like we are.”

***

Aberdeen could hear the video game sounds coming out of Camden’s Nintendo Switch as she lay in his bed, cuddled up to him while browsing through her phone.  It was later – later than she thought – but she wanted to stay at home for a little while longer, at least until Camden went to bed, because, well…it was a global pandemic and she wanted to see her family.  Her dad would drive her home eventually – she knew that.  But she wanted to spend some time with her younger brother, even if it was just cuddling with him while he played video games and she browsed Instagram.  Sometimes physical contact was the best contact; sometimes nothing needed to be said.  

“Hey Aberdeen?” he whispered.

Apparently something needed to be said.

She looked over at him and saw that he’d placed the Switch face-down on his chest.  He was looking up at her.  “Yeah bud?”

“Are you scared about the pandemic?”

Aberdeen softened immediately.  God, she wished he could stay this age forever.  She didn’t want him to grow up and turn into a moody teenager.  She wanted him like this forever: young and innocent and the little boy who cries over meeting Kyle Lowry.  “Of course I’m scared,” she admitted.  “Are you scared?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Mom’s home so it’s okay but I’m scared about dad.  What if the virus is on one of the envelopes or packages he has to deliver?  Or, like, on a mailbox?”

Aberdeen cuddled closer to her brother, if only to provide physical assurance.  There were so many unknowns about the virus.  It didn’t help that there was wall-to-wall coverage of it on the TV all the time.  “I don’t think the virus works that way, Cam.  I think—”

“But did you see how fast it spread in New York City?  Mom and dad were watching the news one night and the number of people who have it is so high,” he was so concerned.  

“I think dad’s work put a lot of, like, safety rules in place so nobody will catch it,” she tried to calm his nerves.  “Dad wouldn’t be working if it wasn’t safe.  Look at my work.  They’re not letting me work because it’s not safe.”

Camden considered his sister’s words.  She could practically see the gears shifting in his mind.  “I guess so,” he acquiesced.  “But I still think about dad a lot when he’s working.  Mom’s even praying a lot more now.”

“I figured she would be,” Aberdeen nodded.  “Listen Cam, I’m scared about everything too, but the reason why I’m not worried about dad is because dad’s a really smart guy, and we’re a family that listens to doctors and public health experts who are trying to make everything better,” she explained.  

“And don’t forget the epado…epid…”

“Epidemiologists,” she smiled, saying the word for him.  “Them too.  I’m listening to them.”

“Mom thinks I won’t go back to school this year at all.  She told me I’m gonna help her teacher her first graders,” he giggled.  “Imagine that!  At least I don’t have to take EQAO this year.”

“Lucky you,” Aberdeen wiggled her eyebrows at him.  “Hey, if I order some masks, what designs do you want on them?”

“Raptors and Leafs, obviously,” he smiled.  “Do you even need to ask?”

“Well excuuuuuuse me—”

Their conversation was interrupted by Aberdeen’s phone ringing from its place on her chest.  When she flipped it over to see who would be calling her at this hour, she should have known better than to wonder.  It was William.  It would only be William.  But he was requesting to FaceTime her.  Just as she was about to reject the call, she heard Cam gasp.  “Is that William Nylander?  He’s calling you?!”

She gulped.  “Cam—”

“Answer it!  Answer it!”

She swiped her screen.  She prayed to every saint that he wasn’t already topless.  When he finally appeared on the screen, he was wearing an oversized t-shirt.  She’d have to pray the rosary tonight.  “Hi William,” she greeted formally – no “Hi baby” or “Heeeeeyyyyy” like she usually did, hoping he’d get the hint.  

“Hello…” he answered back awkwardly, not realizing immediately why she was being so formal.  When she tilted the camera and he saw Camden lying beside her smiling from ear-to-ear, waving frantically at him, he understood.  “Heeeyyy Camden,” he greeted, waving back.  

“Hi William!” Camden said.  “How are you?”

“I’m good, buddy, how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he shrugged.  “Aberdeen told me you’re in Tampa Bay with your brother and sisters.”

“I am,” William nodded, shooting the quickest of looks to Aberdeen.  “She texted me to let me know you guys were apparently missing me today at lunch.  I already know my lunch wasn’t as great as the one your mom made.”

Camden giggled slightly.  “It definitely wasn’t.  Mom made lamb today.  Hey William?”

“Yeah bud?”

“Aberdeen told me you have three younger sisters.  I have two older ones.  How do you do it?!”

William burst out laughing, as did Aberdeen.  “Ooooooh Camden.  If I knew, I’d tell you.”

***

“How are you, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen get into her bed.  He’d called her again when he knew it was safe – when she was back at her apartment after her dad drove her home.  He hadn’t expected Camden to be on his earlier phone call, of course, but they’d spoken for about ten minutes until Camden was satisfied.

Aberdeen took a deep breath.  She was going for it.  “Jag mår bra hur mår du?” she replied in near-perfect Swedish.

She watched as William’s eyes bulged out dramatically and smiled mischievously.  “Minskatt?!” he gasped dramatically, even going so far as to sit up in bed.  She could only giggle.  “Minskatt where did that come from?  Are you…”

“Mhm,” she nodded before he could finish his thought.  “I ordered a bunch of Swedish language books and I’ve been learning since you left.  I wanted to surprise you.”

“Minskaaaaatt,” he repeated, except this time in a more playful accusatory tone.  “What have you taught yourself?”

“Just the most basic stuff,” she said.  “Hello, how are you, where is the washroom, that kind of stuff.  Verb conjugations are going to come later.  And…” she trailed off.

“And?”

She smiled again.  “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker,” she whispered.  

It was the most amazing thing William had ever heard.  It didn’t matter that the pronunciation was a bit off – it was incredible.  Incredible.  So incredible that he couldn’t handle it.  He smiled from ear to ear and buried his face in his pillow as he giggled.  “Minskatt…you have no idea how beautiful that sounds,” he said.  “Like…you honestly have no idea.”

“Do you like the surprise?” she asked.

“I fucking love it,” he said.  “Minskatt, you’re too good to me.”

“I want to learn more.  I want…I want to like, become as fluent as I can so that I can speak to your family in Swedish.  You know, when we’re in Sweden.  Whenever that is.”

William’s heart practically burst in his chest.  If it was possible, he would have spontaneously self-combusted right then and there at her words and their sweetness.  “If I could take you to Sweden tomorrow, I would.  God minskatt, I miss you so much.  I’m dying over here.”

“Me too.”

“I want to touch you so bad,” he admitted.  “I was dreaming about it the other night but then I woke up, and I couldn’t fall back asleep again.”

Her heart fluttered.  She’d dreamt about the same thing too last night and woke up sweating.  She’d never been this sexually frustrated before, even in her single days.  To think of the time they spent together during quarantine, only to have him leave and be unable to do those same thing…it was a lot to miss.  A lot to look forward too, as well, once they reunited.  But for now, she could only miss it.  “How were you touching me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

She could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.  “You know how,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she said, slipping her hand underneath the covers.  She snaked it down her body and underneath her pajama pants and underwear.  “Tell me how you were touching me.”

William watched as he watched her one arm move and her hand disappear.  He gulped at the sight of it.  “I was touching your pussy,” he huffed, slipping his own hand under the covers.  

“Was it wet for you?”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing hold of his cock, stroking it almost immediately.  “Is…is it wet right now?”

“Getting there,” she nodded.  

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhm,” she said, her eyes drooping slightly.  She waited a few moments as she continued to touch herself before she finally continued.  “Tell me how you were touching me.  What were you doing?”

“I was fingering you.  And my thumb was rubbing your clit…how you like it,” his voice was low.

“Mmmmm,” Aberdeen hummed, mimicking what he was saying and doing it to herself as best she could.  She’d done it for so long as a single woman that she’d practically mastered it, but ever since she’d been with William, he’d mastered it in the short amount of time too.  There was nothing he did that didn’t turn her on.  “I had your cock down my throat in my dream last night.”

“Oh fuck,” William huffed, not expecting that at all.  He thought, as always, this was gonna be about pleasuring her by some good old-fashioned phone sex.  He didn’t think she’d go so far as to include him too, considering how new the experience was.  But they were doing this.  “Was it deep in your throat?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded.  “It hit the back.”

“Fuuuuuck Aberdeen,” he huffed.  He imagined the feeling and it sent shivers down his spine.  He got hard almost immediately at the thought as he kept stroking himself, but ever since he’d been with Aberdeen, his own hand didn’t fucking cut it anymore.  She gave him the best handjobs, the best blowjobs…everything she did was the best to him.  

“Remember when I sucked you off in the backseat of your car?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet.  William nodded his head quickly.  “Remember how you came in my mouth?  You tasted sooooo good, Willy.”

“Ab—Aberdeen—fuck, don’t—”

“I can’t wait to taste it again.”

William’s eyes rolled back.  “I can’t wait to taste your pussy again.”

“When you come back home, I want you to fuck me like you did during quarantine,” she continued.  “Fuck me hard how I like it, Willy.”

“Ab—are you—look at me when you cum, Aberdeen,” William demanded.  He could tell by just a quick look that she was almost there.  “Look at me when you cum.”

“Are you close?”

“Y—Yeah.”

“Cum with me, Willy.  Think of my tight pussy when you cum.”

She could see his face contort slightly as he closed his eyes.  She bit her bottom lip and tried to suppress a loud moan, writhing in her bed and squeezing her legs together as her orgasm took over her body.  She heard William moan too, low and guttural, and when she saw his chest heaving just as much as hers was, she knew he came too.  

As her breathing steadied out, Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle slightly.  “I can’t believe we just did that,” she admitted.  “That was—”

“That was really hot,” William finished her sentence, albeit more bluntly than her tone.  “That was—we did that quick but God it was hot.”

“Yeah,” Aberdeen nodded.  “Nothing compares to the real thing though.”

“No, it doesn’t,” William agreed.  “The second I land in Toronto – finish quarantine – whatever, I’m taking you to my place and I’m fucking you senseless.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle and smirk at his words.  “Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

April 14th, 2020

“What did you and your brother do that day?” Aberdeen practically screamed into the phone as the video played on what seemed like an infinite loop on her laptop.  “Seriously.  What made you think to film that?”

“We practiced for a long time!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure the Toosie Slide dance took a lot of practice.”

“It does!”

“Your poor sister.”

“She lived.”

Aberdeen snorted.  “And what are those shorts, William?!”

“Um, excuse me?  Are you making fun of my shorts?” he giggled.  “I thought you’d like them, seeing as they show off my thighs.  We both know how much you like my thighs…”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

***

April 20th, 2020

“Did you get some sun today?” Aberdeen asked sarcastically, seeing William on FaceTime looking redder than a tomato.  

“You’re funny.”

“Have you heard of sunscreen?”

“I wore sunscreen,” he grumbled.

“Sure you did.”

***

April 25th, 2020

“Have you been writing a lot, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen concentrating on her screen, hearing her furious typing through the microphone.  They were on the type of call where the participants just went about their business, connected through the screen, watching the other do their work while also doing their own.  William was just being dumb and scrolling through golfing websites, but Aberdeen was actually being productive.

“Mhm,” she nodded.  “I just…well, you saw how much I wrote when we were together too.  In between the sex,” she chuckled slightly.  “But after you left, there was just this huge burst of inspiration and energy.”

“I think it was the sex,” William deadpanned, causing Aberdeen to laugh.  “The sex inspired you.”

“Well you definitely gave me the energy,” she smiled.  “Too bad what I’m writing isn’t a sex diary or something.”

“What are you writing, minskatt?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Um…” Aberdeen began, trying to formulate what she was writing into words.  “It’s about a girl.  Well, a group of girls.”

“You mean like that TV show Girls?”

“Better,” Aberdeen huffed.  “Lena Dunham is awful.”

William smiled.  “So a group of girls?”

“A group of girls and their relationships with each other.  And the expectations they have for each other that sometimes may not work in their favour.”

“So is it semi-autobiographical?”

Aberdeen side-eyed him.  Everything in writing was at least somewhat autobiographical.  But he didn’t need to know that.  “Maybe.”

***

April 27th, 2020

“I miss you so much,” William mumbled, his voice sleepy.

“I miss you too,” Aberdeen said, equally as tired.  “I can’t wait for you to hold me.  I can’t wait to just cuddle.”

“Me too.”

***

April 30th, 2020

For the first time in weeks, Aberdeen wasn’t doomscrolling about COVID-19.  She was doomscrolling about William.  

It started innocently enough, by Aberdeen reminiscing on the first time he drove her home from the airport and he spoke about his contract negotiations and how they turned a lot of people sour on him.  She believed him right then and there, but she didn’t go looking.  Now, with nothing to do and a curious mind, she went looking.

And she hated what she found.

Entire articles, practically one written every week, about his trade value.  Those same articles devalkuing him as a player and downplaying his role on the team as a top-six forward.  Panels of analysts and experts demanding that the Leafs trade him.  Entire Twitter accounts dedicated to blasting every single little thing he did on the ice.  Men with nothing better to do than to obsess over him and call him every name in the book.  

And then there was the video from Tim & Sid, the popular sports radio duo in Toronto that Aberdeen listened to for fifteen minutes once, but couldn’t get past Sid Seixeiro’s dumbass opinions.  In the video she watched, he took a less than 10-second clip of something William had said in a post-game interview during a loss against the Panthers and asked, indignantly, “What the hell is wrong with him?”  He then proceeded to go on a five-minute rant about the entire locker room having an attitude problem, how Willy had an attitude problem, how he didn’t care about the team…and people believed it.  She knew it.  People gobbled it up.  It was their serotonin while they hated him and called him a pussy on the internet and threw glasses at him in bars while drunk.  She felt sick to her stomach that these people felt this way about him.  

She’d been crying for a while before she picked up her phone to call him.  Her hands were shaking as she dialled his number, waiting for him to answer.  “Hi minskatt,” he cooed after the fourth ring.

“Willy,” she greeted, her voice shaky.

The last time she’d called him in such a state, she was being followed from her apartment.  William’s mind immediately went into overdrive.  “Minskatt?  What’s wrong?”

“Willy you know I love you, right?”

He softened slightly.  “Of course I do.  Why would you—”

“—I love you every way you are—"

“—Aberdeen—”

“—And I know you’re a good person and I love you so much, more than anything—”

“—Aberdeen—Aberdeen—stop.  What is this about?”

She took a quick breath.  “What everyone says about you, Willy.  They’re horrible.  Horrible.  I was reading and I was watching these videos and they’re just awful to you and—”

“Aberdeen, I told you not to watch those videos,” he said.

“Willy, please,” she begged.  “How could they say those things about you and not even know you?  How can they still be so bitter after your contract negotiations?!”

“Aberdeen—”

“I love you, Willy.  I love you every way you are,” she repeated.  “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you.  I love you.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Aberdeen,” he said calmly but fiercely.  “Aberdeen, you can’t listen to them.  I learned how to tune them out a long time ago.  Even if I did…I don’t care what they say about me.  I know who I am, Aberdeen.  I know the truth, and they don’t.  And you do too.”

“I do, but I just…they’re so awful, Willy.  I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Like I said…I know my truth.  My family knows.  And you do.  The most important people in my life know the truth and that’s all that matters.  I don’t give a fuck about what they think of me,” he said.  

Aberdeen stayed silent.  She knew she was overreacting, but damnit, she needed to overreact.  She’d been a part of the hockey world now for what felt like a century, and if what she had with William was going to last, it would be a major part of her life for years to come.  She needed to learn to roll with the punches.  But at the same time, she felt like if those punches were unjustified, then she was justified in being upset about them and wanting to speak out.  “I just love you so much,” she whispered, her voice much calmer now but still a bit shaky.  “God, I’m such a horrible girlfriend.  I’m calling you crying about the stupid Toronto media on the night before your birthday—”

“It’s okay, minskatt,” he interrupted.  “I would rather you call me then cry alone.  Besides, my birthday isn’t going to be special because you won’t be here.”

“Willy, don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” he replied.  “I wish I could spend it with you.  Fuck, I wish I could fly you down to Florida on a private fucking plane just so I could spend time with you.  I’d kill someone just to hold your hand right now.”

Her heart fluttered.  “I wish you’d come back to Toronto,” she whispered.  “When you get back, Willy…I’m gonna let you hold my hand so hard.”

They both snorted.  “I’ll be eagerly awaiting my gift, by the way,” he said, knowing that whatever she had in store for him for his birthday would be waiting for him when he got back to Toronto.  She made it that way – she promised, and he’d accepted.  He was dying in anticipation, but he’d accepted. 

“Want a little piece of it now?” she asked.

He smiled.  “You know I do.”

***

May 1st, 2020

Happy birthday I know you’re spending the day with your brother so it’s okay if you don’t text back I just want you to know how much I love you.  I’m sorry that I waited so long.  I’m sorry I denied it for so long.  You have been so good to me Willy.  I hope I’m half as good to you as you are to me.  I’ve never felt the love that you give me every single day from another person and I think that’s because the universe was saving it for ~you, for  ~you to show me, because I can’t picture it being from anyone else.  I love you so much and I miss you.  Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker.

i love u more than anything minskatt Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker always i will always love u i wish u were here with me nothing is the same without u

nothing is the same without you either I love you so much Willy

i love u aberdeen

[liamscxtt]

a day in the life ; self para

when: thursday, august 28th

where: literally everywhere

nb: just a brief (long) narrative of what the typical day looks like for liam.

trigger warnings: homelessness, death and drug mentions, drug abuse

5:00am

there’s a moment when you first wake up when everything is just a haze. a moment when you forget who you are, what day it is -- all of your problems just don’t exist, for that moment. the moment only lasted a few seconds before the blaring sound of the alarms coming from the phone bring you back to the brutal aspects of reality. and yet, those were the best five seconds for liam.

groaning, he turned over and tapped on his screen, desperately trying to shut the alarm off; the bright screen burning his already sleep deprived eyes. he probably only got about three hours of sleep, if that. he was used to it at this point, and then there were days like today. days where he wanted to wither into the depths of his own self-loathing. 

he looked out the window to see the sun beginning to rise. a sky painted with shades of blues, purples, and oranges, almost like a messy yet somewhat neatly put together painting made by a middle schooler. there was something beautiful about waking up with the sun, parts of it that brought him peace. his sister loved watching the sunrise - she always went on and on about how sunrises were the true underdog; how mother nature picked it’s most beautiful mixture of colors for the sunrises, all because it took a special person to appreciate the beauty that came from it. he never really understood what she meant, until he was forced to watch the sun rise every single morning. and as always, she was right. sunsets had nothing against sunrises. 

these quiet mornings were the best part of liam’s day. the hours where he felt most connected to his sister and to himself. the hours he felt truly at peace. it was crazy to think that liam’s favorite time of the day was between 5:00am and 6:30am. 

he turned on his car to play youtube on his aux before climbing out of his vehicle. the sweet melody’s of the soft pitched tunes filled his car and the immediate area surrounding it, and a smile creeped on his face as one of her favorite songs began playing in the background. he wasn’t religious, but there was a part of him that truly found strength in knowing that his sister wasn’t far away. 

he rolled up the worn down mattress topper, collected his pillow and blanket in one hand. he broke down his bed as he pushed the backseat of his 2006 ford escape upright and neatly tucked his belongings into his trunk. 

5:30am

he pulled into the vacant parking lot of the soulstice gym. the gym was set to open in a half hour; luckily for him, there weren’t many college students that would dare to wake up at the crack of dawn just to work out. he stuffed everything he needed to get ready for the day into a duffle bag; shower supplies, and a clean outfit. he desperately needed to do laundry, and he needed to get food...but pay day wasn’t until next week. he was gonna have to find cash, and find it quick - maybe he’ll just pick up another shift at the bar. he practically lived at that place now.

his footsteps echoed through as he walked through the empty fitness center; not even the cleaners had arrived for their early morning shift. he quickly hopped into the showers and get ready for the day. lord knows he needed to wash the dirt and sins that painted his skin from the previous nights festivities. he couldn’t even recall what exactly happened, and that was both a blessing and a curse. it was shortly after he turned on all the lights and greeted the early morning cleaners, jimmy and george. 

“good morning, son!” greeted george. 

“mornin’, will.” jimmy greeted shortly after. 

jimmy and george worked closely together, and were usually gone for the day 2pm; and yet, liam knew the guys quite well. 

jimmy is in his early-forties, married with two children. he worked two full time jobs to get his children through school. his son played division II baseball at a school somewhere in the midwest, and is majoring in sports education. he wants to be a gym teacher. his daughter is studying to be a nurse at monarch. she aspires to work in women’s health. jimmy always spoke so highly of them two. 

george is in his mid-sixties, but is still kicking it like he’s twenty. he’s also married with children and even grandchildren, but his story is more tragic. he’s a retired firefighter, who is still working a full time job because his pension wasn’t enough to make ends meet. can’t make ends meet. his only daughter passed away at a young age - drug overdose, he says. his only son is constantly in and out of jail for drug charges - leaving george and his wife to take care and raise their two grandchildren, layla and michael. layla is 14 and is getting ready to start high school. she loves to play volleyball, and apparently is a natural. michael is 9 and is getting ready to start fourth grade. he love cars, spider man, legos, sonic, and baseball cards. he wants to be a youtube gamer when he grows up. liam didn’t know the kid, but he thought he was fucking awesome. 

two completely different stories, and yet liam believed that those two men deserved the world and then some.

“what’s up, guys?” liam greeted with a smile as he filled up his metal water bottle at the nearest filling station. “when are the kids set to go back, george?”

“this coming monday. mikey’s already complaining how he doesn’t need school to be a youtuber. apparently he’s ‘done his research’.” the comment makes both liam and jimmy laugh. 

“tell the little man to put that energy into a sport, or a trade. i need a new mechanic.” jim jested, once again causing the other two to laugh. “what about you, will? getting ready to start the semester back up? gabby is already stressing because some of her professors already posted the syllabus.” 

“shit, i haven’t even gotten my textbooks yet. i might have to join mikey with this whole youtuber plan and hope for the best.” liam said with a nervous chuckle. he almost had completely forgotten about the upcoming semester approaching. 

to quickly divert the question away from him, he spoke once more. “say, george. i found a few baseball cards at the bar the other night. remind me to bring them in for you.” 

“you’ll make that boys entire week. maybe i’ll use that to bribe him to go to school.” 

jimmy just smiled. “you’re a good kid, scotty boy. never change.” 

2:30pm

it had only been a half hour since liam clocked out from his morning job, and he quickly made his way over to the library. the mention of school that morning brought liam into a panic. he grabbed a spot at one of desks in the computer station, powering on the device and pulling out his notebook. luckily enough, most of the textbooks he needed the library had available. leaving his stuff behind, he went to go fetched them. 

he already had mastered the technique of not having his own textbooks. every week, he would go and scan all of the chapters he needed for each and every class. luckily, monarch offered free scanning and printing. he made small talk with the librarian that sat at the desk nearby as he printed out at least three weeks worth of chapters for each of his classes. 

he sat down once more, and took the time to put the pile of papers neatly into his binder. it was time to start planning. 

6:30pm

now it was time to work his night time job, mars bar. he was working with adrian tonight, so he knew it wouldn’t be that bad.

his stomach had been grumbling half way through his shift. he hadn’t eaten anything all day. but he continued to push through. he had to, at least until pay day. he continued to chug water; if his stomach was full of water, his body didn’t have time to remind him that it needed some sort of nutrients. he was a master manipulator when it came to his own body now. 

1:00am

the rounded out the tips that he received from his customers. it was a good night, and luckily enough he would be able to do laundry the next day. his body was tired, though; aching from the lack of sleep and abuse his body endured from the festivities. he felt like he could sleep for an entire month, and then some. 

he drove around for a bit after his shift, a thing he did as he needed to both unwind and find a somewhat safe space to park his car. university police were patrolling the parking lots that night, which immediately told him not to park there. he couldn’t park in greek row - too many people he knew by this point. he was left to park in a nearby park, in a nearby neighborhood. he found himself saying a small prayer that nobody would mess with him that night. 

he lit up a joint once he found his place, feeling the smoke fill his lungs as he listened to the calming music that played on the radio. ed sheeran was playing, a song from his multiply album. it was one of his and his sister’s favorite albums. that’s the one thing they shared in common, their taste in music. but she was more pop in a sense, and he was more edgy. but still, the music brought him comfort.

he got his bed ready; a mattress topper, paired with a pillow and a blanket. he made himself comfortable and looked at his phone, just to see he missed a text from his mother at 10:45pm.

hi honey! spoke with your aunt today, and we’re making plans for christmas. did your father reach out to you? let me know what plans he has set. i’ll arrange my trip around your plans. 

i hope you had a great day! i love you! ❤️

her message was followed by a bitmoji image of her holding a huge heart. and he smiled. 

i haven’t spoken to him all week, but i’ll reach out tomorrow and let you know. i’ll call you tomorrow. love you ❤️

there was a huge part of him that wanted to call her now, that wanted to tell her he had been struggling both physically and mentally...but then he remembered the damage and the financial burden his injury left. it ruined his family. he ruined his family. and just as he was about to press call, he let out a frustrated sigh before locking his phone and tossing it not too far away from him, rolling over to attempt to get some sort of rest.

just to do the same thing. all. over. again.

[gainaxvel3o]

Shinji Ikari: The Amazing Spider-Man

Shinji Ikari: The Origin

The opening strings of Bach's Cello Suite #1 were heard in the room.

It was being played on the cello, the young, brown haired, blue eyed boy wearing the black school uniform holding the instrument playing it with efficiency. He put his concentration into this, lest he be disappointing the old man sitting in front go him.

When he finally finished, his teacher nodded in approval.

"Very good. You are done for the day."

Shinji Ikari nodded in return. "Understood."

_______________________________________________________________________

Kokoro is covered in smog.

When the meteorite impacted the Earth in 1999, the world had changed. Much of the world was destroyed in the wake of the calamity. Weather was fixed in countries around the world, with Japan being in perpetual summer heat.

Nagano was a casualty of Second Impact's destruction, and as such it was sometime before it was given the go ahead for rebuild. Luckily, the Yashida Company was able to pick up the slack, the large corporation funding various reconstruction efforts to rebuild the city. It was renamed Kokoro, to symbolize becoming the heart of technology and commerce for the rebuilding Japan. Smog was common, since construction and factories were common, and very busy. It was quite a large enterprise.

Shinji reset the tape from track 26 to 25.

Anata wo michibiku basho he to

Tori no mure ga habataite yuku

Kawaita daichi ni aru no wa

Hibiwareta takusan no kokoro

He didn't think too much of the city. It was too busy and loud for his tastes. He always seemed to find it… overcrowded for lack of a better word. Sitting on the train, he listened to his S-DAT player while ignoring the rest of the passengers. He enjoyed music. He found it relaxing, like locking himself off into his own landscape, where he could ignore the world and be the only one that exists.

Kikoeru anata wo

yobu koe ga

Zawameki nimo

makenai hodo tsuyoku

Shinji was one that let things happen as they happened. Without dreams or aspirations, he just existed and did what he was told. He was never entirely comfortable with people, and people were never comfortable with him, so they never connected. He saw no problem with this arrangement, he had little reason to care.

You are the only one.

kitto

anata dake.

He stopped this thought process when he realized the train had reached Imai Station.

Shinji picked up his bag and stepped outside. He might not have aspirations, but he still needed to go to school.

_______________________________________________________________________

That does not mean he liked Kawanakajima Junior High School.

Shinji is sitting in Science class, trying to listen to Prof. Kuruto Inumaru explaining the experiment. Something to do with mixing the appropriate chemical compounds.

"This is exciting, Ikari! Can you feel it?"

The key word being trying.

Too bad he had Tsuyoshi Kotei as his lab partner.

Kotei was the Class Representative. Tall, imposing with black hair and shining wide blue eyes, he was well respected among his peers. He was at the top in terms of grades and was considered a well behaved young man by the teachers. He had a charm that won over most people.

Whenever he was around though, Shinji couldn't help shake a foreboding feeling.

"Kotei, could you please be quiet? I'm trying to take notes." Shinji hissed, scribbling notes on his notebook.

Tsuyoshi looked over him apologetic, "Sorry, it's just that taking classes and performing my duties makes me feel great."

"Okay, I'm trying to concentrate!" Shinji whispered a little louder, which unfortunately got attention.

"Is there something you would like to add, Ikari?" said Prof. Inumaru with a condescending tone.

Shinji looked down. "No sir."

"Good, let us begin the experiment," Prof. Inumaru turned back to the board as Shinji blushed hearing his classmates chuckle.

The class experiment was mixing compounds to produce a particular chemical. Tsuyoshi was a pro at this, mixing and matching with ease with Shinji struggling to keep up with him. Still, he did his part and was able to produce the right chemical for the job. He was about to place them in the mixer-

A sudden force pushed him and the glass containers with chemicals he held slipped from his hands and fell onto the floor, spilling the materials and shattering the glass.

At this, Prof. Inumaru turned his attention to Shinji, and he wasn't pleased.

"Ikari, you're staying over after school for clean up duty. That is not a request."

Bitterly, Shinji looked over at Tsuyoshi, who merely smiled.

With a sneering grin.

_______________________________________________________________________

Clean up duty was a chore.

Shinji used his gloved hands to drag the mop across the classroom, cleaning it like he was told to. The rest of the day was boring enough, but Kotei's little prank made his day an extra waste. It was sunset by this point. Shinji wanted to hurry back home so he could sleep in. Not like he had much to do after all.

The laboratory door opened as Prof. Inumaru stepped out. He seemed rather stressed about something.

"I have to make a call, I will be back in a minute. Make sure you finish cleaning the room," was all he said as he slammed the door shut.

Shinji made a quick glance through the opened door. For some reason, he felt curious about what was inside.

So he placed the mop in his hands over a table and went inside.

The laboratory was a dark and small room. The lights were dimmed, the office was messy and disorganized, and it was clear only Inumaru used this lab.

On the table, there was a small glass cage that was broken.

Shinji figured whatever was inside the cage was probably the cause of Prof. Inumaru's worry. He went over to the cage in order to inspect the thing.

He also grabbed some gloves and a bag. If nothing else, he could clean this mess up. He went back to the table and picked up the shards.

Piece by piece, he brought the shards into the bag with his hand. He was intently focused on the task. Enough that he did not notice a small little creature making its way towards him.

Then, a stinging pain was felt on his right hand.

"Nggh!" Shinji grabbed his wrist, groaning while suffering from the pain. A quick glance and he saw the small little creature, a spider, scurrying off the table.

He shut his eyes… and saw darkness.

_______________________________________________________________________

"You alright kid?"

Shinji heard those words in a blurry haze, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room. As he gazed up, he realized he was in a hospital room. A bearded doctor was in his vision, holding up his hand in front of him.

"How many fingers am I holding?"

Shinji looked at it, focused on it.

"Th… three?" He said hesitantly, unsure if he saw it properly.

It seems it was correct though, since the doctor nodded in approval. "Good, very good. Your teacher brought you over here as soon as he could after he found you on the ground unconscious. From the vitals you seem to be pretty healthy, but we're going to need a blood sample just to be sure. Will that be alright with you?"

Shinji did not object to that. He did have a question though. "You said my teacher brought me here?"

"Yes, Professor Inumaru brought you here. Your legal guardian came over briefly to sign off on the appropriate documents." The doctor said as he waved at a nearby nurse to come in.

"… I see." Shinji said with his head downcast. The nurse went over to him, carrying a needle.

"I'll be taking a sample now okay?" She said smiling in an attempt to reassure the boy. Shinji smiled briefly in return and held out his hand for her.

She cleaned the needle right before stabbing it into Shinji's arm.

"Huh, that's strange…" She frowned a little. "You got surprisingly thick skin. I had a little bit of a problem getting the needle in. Oh well." She didn't say much more as she got the sample. "Your guardian also left something for you."

Shinji was confused. "What did he leave?"

"It's this." The doctor brought out from his pocket a familiar object. Shinji's S-DAT player with his earphones. "You're going to be here for an hour or two, so listening to some music will probably help you pass the time while I get the sample ready."

Shinji nodded. As he put on the earphones, he thought about how he couldn't wait to get out of the hospital soon.

_______________________________________________________________________

After he was given the clean bill of health, Shinji returned to his house.

He wouldn't call this place his home. It never felt like it, even if he did live here for most of his life. A quaint, normal place, it was with very little decoration outside nor inside. Shinji let himself in through the front door (he had the keys in his pockets). He walked in, passing by the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, Shinji noticed an older man reading a newspaper on the dinner table.

This man had been his caretaker since he was four. He taught him how to play the cello, schooled him for a bit in his childhood before sending him to a proper school. The two of them weren't close, neither spending too much time making contact unless it was through cello practice.

"I'm home." Shinji said dispassionately.

The old man let out a small groan in response and placed the paper he was reading down on the table. "I see you are."

They stood there, eye contact established. It was broken when Shinji looked away from his teacher.

"We'll begin practice in a few minutes. Get your cello."

Shinji went up to his room to get the instrument.

_______________________________________________________________________

Drowning.

Shinji was drowning in an ocean of red. He struggled repeatedly to get up, to get some air. But some invisible force is dragging him down, further and further…

Gasping for any semblance of oxygen, he felt his energy fading.

In spite of being underwater, he heard words all around him. Painful words.

GET AWAY FROM ME

HOW PATHETIC

I HATE YOU

Shinji's eyes were wide as he witnessed dark shapes with cruel eyes, disgusted at his very being. The final gasps of air left him-

As he awoke from his dream with a tiny gasp.

Shinji felt sweat on his body. The nightmare gave him a panic attack that left him shivering and cold. He brought a hand up this face to wipe it off.

He often had these types of dreams after particularly bad days. Dreams of hate that make his heart pound in fear. Even as he never formed a human bond, he did not wish to be hated. The thought terrified him, though he did not know what he could do about it. So the feeling came back no matter how much he tried to bury it.

It was after that train of thought Shinji noticed some of his sweat drops were falling… upwards?

He turned his head up-

He saw his bed.

He looked around himself-

He was on the ceiling, stuck it through his hands and feet.

"What the- AAAH!"

He fell down from his position on the roof and fell into the bed, breaking the stools on it as he fell.

With a panic, Shinji ran off into the bathroom panicking.

"No, this is a dream, obviously that wasn't real-" Shinji said in a haze of confusion, "I wasn't just up in the ceiling for no reason-"

After turning on the lights he went over to the sink and washed his face repeatedly, convinced he was hallucinating. It was only then he noticed something in the mirror.

Namely that where his thin scrawny form was stood place a slightly more muscular form that he didn't have before.

"This can't be real…" Shinji said looking at his reflection. He reached out to it with his hand, waving it around for a bit, before bringing it over to his face. Upon closer inspection of the hand he noticed that his fingers contained tiny pincers that stretched out from the tips.

He walked out of the room unsure of what was going on.

'How did I get like this? I was just fine yesterday when I got out of the hospital.' Shinji thought to himself. 'The only thing that happened was-'

The spider.

Shinji remembers that time when the Spider bit him. It sounds completely stupid and insane and yet…

Shinji placed a hand on the wall. Then another.

Both hands were joined by a pair of feet as Shinji Ikari climbed up to the ceiling once more.

Now that he could think clearly, Shinji only had one thought on his mind.

"No way."

_______________________________________________________________________

The next morning was rather strange for the boy as one can imagine.

Shinji was tired from a lack of sleep. How could he when he got weird powers and broke his bed by accident? He only wished his teacher wouldn't find the broken bed before he could do something about that. Exactly what he could do is beyond his guess, but he had to do something.

Rubbing his eyes, he walked past the groups of students walking together talking about random life activities or something. He wasn't paying too much attention.

Maybe if he had, he wouldn't have bumped directly into Prof. Inumaru and making him drop his papers.

"Eeeh! Sorry Professor!" Shinji yelled out loudly as he tried helping Inumaru get his papers, but the good professor merely held out his hand to silence him.

"It is alright Ikari." He readjusted his glasses as he stood up to properly meet his student. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

Shinji shifted slightly. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"It was about the incident from yesterday." Inumaru said nervously. "The doctors said you were fine, but have you felt any side effects at all? Any changes?"

Shinji contemplated whether to tell Inumaru about getting his powers last night. On the one hand, he was curious about the spider and what it had done. But on the other hand…

"No sir. Nothing much happened."

He was not quite sure he could trust him.

Inumaru scratched the back of his head, "Very well. Could you do me a favor and make sure you don't tell anyone what happened alright?"

Shinji nodded, and Inumaru went back to walking down hallways with papers like teachers usually do.

From there, the boy for his part went about his day as normal. Other than nearly falling asleep in classes, nothing much really happened that was worthy of note.

Until lunchtime.

Shinji was eating alone at his own table. He rubbed his hand over his forehead, feeling a slight headache come over him as he stopped eating for a second. The headache grew stronger and he groaned.

"Just what is up with my head" Shinji grabbed his head with one hand, the other hand went in search of the tray to grab onto.

He felt a slight pricking on his wrist, which Shinji took a brief glance at from the pain on his head to see-

Some sort of fluid material covering a part of the tray.

Momentarily forgetting his headache, Shinji reacted similarly to getting his wall crawling power; by panicking. He got up quickly, the tray sticking from his hand and-

Hitting someone that was coming by, spilling all the food on his uniform. Whoops!

Oh, and not just another student either, it was 'kind and loving' Tsuyoshi Kotei.

Double whoops.

After hitting Kotei, the fluid material snapped from Shinji's hand and fell to the floor.

Thank goodness no one witnessed that, it would have exposed Shinji's secret right then and there. Narrowly avoided triple whoops.

"I'm sorry Kotei!" Shinji waved his arms around, "I didn't mean to- It was an accident!"

If one payed close attention to Kotei, one would notice one of his eyes twitching, "It's perfectly alright Ikari. I'm sorry for disrupting your lunch as well. How about we meet after school so we could eat some lunch together?" he responded with a polite tone.

Shinji felt another headache coming on. He knew that it was going to lead to trouble, but everyone was staring at him…

"Okay, I'll do it." While he wasn't a social butterfly, it would seem rude to reject an offer just like that. Not if you want everyone else to turn on you.

_______________________________________________________________________

Meeting at the rooftop of the school is pretty normal for students. It had a nice view when you wanted to get away from the crowds at the lunch table.

Another thing that was normal was Tsuyoshi Kotei and his goons surrounding and beating up people they don't like.

Truth was, Kotei was massively popular and the class representative. He has earned everyone's trust and admiration, so they didn't seem to notice or look too deeply when some students came in with bruises into the classroom, looking away from Kotei when he smiled at them holding some yen.

Or maybe they did notice. Maybe they just chose to look the other way.

Shinji was no stranger to the sight of Kotei and his goons surrounding him. Kotei had support from all around, and they were all waiting to see Kotei kicking the butt out of whoever he brings in.

He tried to get away from Kotei, but the other students held him still for Kotei.

"You ruined my uniform just now Ikari." Kotei said with a sadistic grin, much like in lab class. "You have to pay, so STEP RIGHT UP!" He had his mighty fists of steel (as he called them) raised up to beat the snot out of his new victim.

Shinji felt his headache again. 'Not now!' he thought as he clutched his head waiting for the right hook shot to the face that was coming towards him.

Then though, time slowed down.

The grinning Kotei and his fist of steel was now coming at Shinji at a snail's pace. Seemingly without thinking, Shinji moved his head aside-

Time returned as Kotei struck one of his classmates instead.

"What the hell?!" The punched out student yelled. The smug grin from Kotei disappeared in favor of confusion and anger. This volatile combination of feelings lead to Kotei throwing another fist at his missing target.

And another

And another-

Shinji was dodging all of the punches! Through some sort of instinct, Shinji's headaches seem to alert him the incoming danger, allowing him to reflexively move out of the way of the fists!

The crowd surrounding them cheered on Kotei to knock Shinji's ass to the ground, which only made Kotei more determined than ever to oblige.

"Finish it up Kotei! We're gonna check out at the warehouse down the marketplace to see if we could turn it into a crib!" yelled out one of the students surrounding the fight.

Shinji for his part was confused as to how he was sensing the danger. These headaches were only making it worse, unable for him to think properly.

But the crowd was getting anxious so finally when Shinji moved away once more some students grabbed his shoulders to keep him still.

"We got him right here for ya, Kotei! Finish off the lil bastard and we'll got the arcades next!" said an eager student. Kotei smirked.

"Nowhere to run now, Ikari. Now get ready!" Kotei raised his left hook and launched it right at Shinji's stomach.

Shinji struggled from the grabbing, but he was kept there like a lamb for the slaughter. His headaches were getting worse so without thinking as Kotei's fist reached-

Hand to hand contact was made; Shinji's hand blocked Kotei's fist.

A sickening crunch was heard.

"GGRRAAAARRRGGHH!" Kotei yelled out in anger and pain as he clutched his now broken hand.

The others let go of Shinji as they went to look over their Class Representative in Pain.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" Shinji let out in a small whisper. Kotei looked over him, rage filling his eyes.

"YOU'RE GONNA GET YOURS, IKARI!" At that, Shinji turned around and ran off quickly ignoring the yells that came from behind him.

Breaking someone's hand with your newly gained super strength? Now THAT was a triple whoops.

_______________________________________________________________________

"I got a call earlier today. It was from a parent."

Bach's Cello Suite #1 was something Shinji had been practicing for a long time. Today he was playing it with the efficiency he always had when playing it. The older man had his arms crossed as he sat facing Shinji's direction, disapproval evident on his face.

"What did they say?" Shinji asked.

"They said something about you breaking their kid's hand."

Shinji frowned, stopping the cello playing and remained silent. The older man took it as confirmation of guilt.

"I am disappointed in you. Getting into fights with students? That's very unlike you." He rubbed his eyes in frustration. Shinji returned to playing the cello, but there's a change in the way he played it.

"So? It was an accident anyway." Shinji kept his head down, his tone turning to anger.

"Accident nothing. The parents were angry, I had to apologize to them for you. They're threatening to sue. Don't you feel any sort of remorse for that?"

The cello playing became harder, to the point that it was messing up the rhythm of the piece.

"Why do you care?"

The question surprised the older man. "Come again?"

"Why do you care now?" Shinji's voice took a darker tone. "You've never cared before. How would you even know it was unlike me?"

Dropping the cello to the floor, Shinji stood up from his chair to face his teacher. Anger boiled directly in his eyes as he started yelling, "You never talk to me, you never ask how I am or how I feel! You didn't even visit me when I was in the hospital the other day. The only thing we ever do together is you teaching me how to play the cello! If you cared before, you would have said something A LONG TIME AGO!"

The older man also stood up to face his student, "Sit back down!"

"No I won't!" Shinji got out of the room fuming. He took a raincoat and slammed the door open.

"You will get back in here right this instant!" The older man may have said more things, but Shinji wasn't listening as he ran away from the house.

The boy ran as far as he could, but even he got tired after a while. He stopped at a near by lamppost to catch a breath.

Clutching the lamppost, he looked around to see where he was. Judging from the various stores around the area, he seemed to have taken a turn into the marketplace unknowingly. Sighing as he put his hands his pockets, Shinji realized he still had his S-DAT player and earphones with him. With this, he made the decision to just walk around the street to clear his thoughts while listening to music.

He placed his hood on and walked away not noticing the dent he made onto the lamppost from clutching it too hard. He put on the earphones and set the tape to 25 as per usual.

Kanashimi ni michita machi he to

Suna majiri no kaze wa fuite

Walking around alone while listening to music, that was something Shinji was comfortable with. He didn't have to fear what people think of him, how they saw him, didn't have to think about his problems… that was good.

Kasukana kibou no kakera mo

Maboroshi ni kaete shimau kedo

This was good. Shinji just let himself get caught up in the same track he always played during those moments, especially on the train rides to school.

You are the only one

sou yo

anata dake

His eyes took a quick glance around, coming upon a random scene.

Someone (around his age, Shinji thought absentmindedly) was mugging a random middle aged woman.

"Gimme the damn purse, old hag!" said the guy grabbing onto to the purse while the lady is desperately trying to get it back.

"No! Let go of it!" The lady bit her lip but eventually she lost the battle. The guy dragged the purse away from her, knocking her to the ground. He ran straight into Shinji's direction.

Feeling another headache, Shinji looked up-

and without thinking, stepped to the side.

The woman looked up, her eyes watering up as the mugger got away. "That man stole my purse!" She said desperately trying to get up to chase down the man.

As she went past Shinji, another man patted the boy's shoulder.

"It's okay, kid. Anyone would be scared of that." He said Shinji with an understanding tone. "I'm gonna try to help her out, get home safe!"

That man ran off to help the poor woman. For his part, the boy continued trekking down the area, not once thinking of what happened there.

'Was I supposed to stop it? It's not like it was my problem or anything.' He thought, turning around a corner desperately trying to avoid any thinking.

His headaches increased by a strong amount-

Shinji jumped away just in time to avoid a car.

He heard some yelling but really all he could focus on was the fact that he clung onto the walls of a building.

And that he was high up.

"WAAH!" Shinji nearly slipped off the building before firmly reattaching his hands to it. He looked around quaking with a tinge of fear.

Luckily the hood on his coat managed to decently hide his face from anyone looking below. It seemed luck was on his side a lot these days. He crawled up the wall to avoid getting seen by more people.

Getting to the rooftop, he stopped to catch his breath. 'Climbing up walls, getting headaches whenever I'm in trouble… breaking hands,'Shinji cringed at the thought, 'and that stuff from the tray. How much can I do?'

If he wanted not to break someone's hand again, he needed to test out his new powers. But where could he find a decent place for it?

He remembered one of the students during the fight mentioning a warehouse down this district… maybe he should check that out?

_______________________________________________________________________

The warehouse as it turned out was not too far.

Indeed, Shinji was surprised the building wasn't torn down already. The place was deserted, no one in sight. He was surprised not even Kotei's gang was here, given the earlier proclamation of turning it into a "crib".

Whatever, this will have to do.

With his new "wall crawling" powers, he managed to get inside the place just fine. Once he got in, he surveyed the area. Lots of crates, an abandoned car, but a whole lot of empty space as well.

Empty space for which to practice.

Shinji jumped right into the center of the area. With his new strength, he landed with ease. He took off his jacket and other stuff to make sure they don't get broken. Lord knows he doesn't want his walkman broken, how else would he hide away from his issues?

He thought about lunch period earlier. A fluid came out from his hand that latched itself to the tray… that bumped into Kotei. Shinji let out an involuntary chuckle. 'How did it come out..?'. He tried to think about how to release the white fluid from his body (his face blushed at how that came out- oh get Shinji get your head out of the gutter!). He looked over his hand. Maybe it was how the hand was positioned…?

He held out his hand away from him, "Go?"

Nothing happened.

Flexing his hand again, he tried a thumbs up gesture, "Release."

Nope.

This time, he faced his palm outwards, triumphantly crying out, "HONEEEYYY FLASH!"

Nada to the third power, receiving a large blush for his trouble.

Trying out various more poses and flexes, Shinji was getting frustrated with the lack of results. 'I was able to do it before, why doesn't it work now?,' it feels like the luck he possessed earlier had disappeared. Grabbing his head in his hands, he kicked some dust from the floor. Waving his arms around, 'I really hope that wasn't a one time thing, that wouldn't be very good-'

Thwip!

Shinji heard it, and turning to meet the noise he saw the fluid had again flown, this time from his left hand attached to a pillar. The fluid-

‘No… webbing.’ He thought. The webbing had detached from his hand this time, when it didn't during the tray incident. 'Maybe back then, I was suffering the headaches and wasn't thinking straight. Now that my head is clear and thought about it, it detached itself from my hand.' He memorized the form of his hand (the index, little and thumb fingers extended with the middle and ring fingers held down. 'The rock and roll pose,' Shinji thought somewhat amused). Trying it again with his other hand, he positioned upwards and thwip, another web line launched onto the support beam on the roof. He clutched the web with his hand, pulling on it to test the strength. His belief in the web established, he decided to try something.

Clutching the web line with both his hands, he climbed it. Slowly of course, he raised a hand up, and another hand up and sure enough, the web was strong enough to support his body! Shinji was grinning from ear to ear like a child as he marveled at the fact he was getting the hang of his powers.

"This is amazing! I can't believe I can do thi-WHOAH!" Shinji yelled out as he realized he made a mistake. See, while he tested the web line to make sure it was strong enough to hold him, he didn't check to see if the wooden support beam the web was attached to was strong enough to hold him.

As such, the support beam broke and now Shinji pays the price. He fell to the ground on his back, the web falling with him. And WHAM! The support beam wasn't too far behind, hitting him as well.

"Owww…" Shinji groaned in pain. Thank God he had super strength or else he would have broken his back in day one.

_______________________________________________________________________

The next morning was a pain for Shinji.

Not just pain from last night's little endeavor (thought it did hurt a lot), but also the fact that in order to get to school he has to get past his teacher. The one he blew off last night in anger. The one he waited until he was sure he was in bed before coming back inside.

'Maybe if I'm lucky I could just get to the door and walk away before anything happens.' Shinji tried to think optimistically, a rare thing for someone with low self esteem like himself. The poor boy walked down the stairs sneakily, making sure not to make a sound. Step by step, he just had to make it past the kitchen-

"Ikari."

Yup, his luck definitely ran out last night.

Shinji cringed as he faced the older man sitting on the table. The lack of a newspaper and the way his arms were folded suggested a long conversation was about to ensue.

"Sit down. We need to talk."

And he was right. Shinji followed his teacher's instructions and sat down, placing his hands in front of him.

Facing each other, the two sat there in silence. Neither of them moved or made a sound, as it seemed both were thinking about what to say.

Shinji decided to try first. "I'm sor-"

"You're a lot like him you know. Like your father."

Shinji looked at his teacher surprised. The older man continued, "The two of us went to college together way back when. The two of you are ones to keep things close to your chest, never letting people see what's inside your heart. Then again… I'm not really that much better am I?" He took out his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Shinji stayed quiet to let him continue.

"The truth was… I hated your father. Ever since I met him. He was a smug and petty man who got into fights in bars for no reason and always got me and my friends into trouble along the way. We even called him the Bastard King as a joke once or twice. You though?" The older man stared at Shinji intently, "I never hated you. When the bastard left you all alone on that train station, I was angry he would just leave you like that, especially after your mother died. I took it upon myself to make sure you were taken care of. Taught you how to cook, how to play the cello, got you into school and got the tapes for your Walkman because I wanted you to grow up alright."

He turned his head down, "But when you yelled at me yesterday… I realized that wasn't enough. You thought I didn't care about you… and that was my failing."

Slowly, carefully, he extended his left arm across the table, his hand meeting Shinji's right hand. Shinji was surprised, but… he didn't remove his hand or turn away. That was a sign for the older man to continue. "Shinji… I'm sorry. For making you think I didn't care. You don't deserve that. You never did. You are my responsibility. I promise you, from now on I promise I'll try to be a better guardian for your sake. If you want me to."

Shinji swallowed a lump in his throat. What could he possibly say? This was something completely out of left field!

"Th- this is all so sudden! I don't know what to say." Shinji let out in a yelp.

"You don't have to say anything." The older man had a small, bittersweet smile. "Don't worry about it, just take your time with your answer. I didn't expect you accept this right away. But I hope I can make things right. That we can be better."

Shinji had a small frown, "Yeah…"

The conversation wasn't over though. "There was something else I need to mention. I believe you when you said it was an accident when you broke the Kotei boy's hand. You're not the type to pick fights out of nowhere, you were probably forced into that fight. I wonder how you got strong though to break his hand though. You never exercised once in the entire time you lived here."

"Uhhh…" Shinji didn't expect to be questioned on that, "I'll explain it when I get home today?"

The older man made a slight smirk, "Sure. Just be careful with your strength. The Kotei boy was out of line, but you could hurt someone with that kind of power. Be responsible okay?" He got up from the table. "Now shoo. I need to handle some paperwork. Go to school."

"R-right." Shinji didn't have to think twice. He got up and went out as quickly as he could.

_______________________________________________________________________

"Yeah, haha!"

It was sunset at the warehouse. Shinji jumped from a column onto the wall, only to shoot a web up to the ceiling and swing across the room. Shooting another web string up for another swing, Shinji was elated!

School was about the same as usual. Kotei didn't mention his hand getting broken to the class, claiming he got hurt in an accident, so Shinji didn't have to worry about having everyone turning against him even more. Prof. Inumaru looked at him suspiciously, but hadn't said a word. Shinji wanted to get away as soon as possible.

Which is why after school he went back to the warehouse to train his powers. As the afternoon passed by, he found himself getting better and better. Now he got enough mastery over the powers that he could do tricks.

Shinji swung into a pack of crates, where he attached himself to them with his hands, hanging himself upside down, then jumping up to the ceiling.

Swinging around the webs was fun, but Shinji wondered what if he could swing across the buildings in the city! Or if he could travel from jumping from rooftop to rooftop like a parkour expert would! With his spider sense (he decided to call it that, considering he didn't know what else he could call it), he could sense any danger so he would be able to get himself out of any problems he faced in town. Now that he didn't have to worry about Kotei, Inumaru, his teacher, anyone else, Shinji was truly excited about what his new powers bring!

He ran across the ceiling and zipped up to the wall.

What his teacher said though…

Shinji jumped back to the ground. He wanted to believe it. He so badly wanted to believe it was true. But what if it was some kind of trick? Why now? The poor boy hadn't known affection, so to hear his teacher make his confession earlier shook him.

Thinking back though… though he didn't visit him in the hospital, he still brought Shinji his S-DAT Player. The older man taught Shinji life skills he would need for the future like cooking and even taught him to play the cello when the boy expressed an interest in it when he was four. He wasn't good at showing it but… maybe he did care?

"This is all so confusing…" Shinji said to an empty room filled with boxes.

But he was being honest. The older man opened up to him and said wanted to make things right. Shinji wasn't sure if it was going to happen, but-

"I'll tell him… I'll tell him about the spider, that I have these powers. I'll tell him everything." Shinji decided firmly.

If his teacher was able to let his defenses down, then Shinji must do the same.

He jumped out of the warehouse and started his walk back.

_______________________________________________________________________

Turning around the corner, Shinji eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

The house was surrounded by a police car and an ambulance, sirens blaring loudly.

The initial shock wearing off, Shinji panicked and ran straight through the officers to enter the house though some officers stopped him from entering.

"What's happening? What's going on?" Shinji yelled out as he tried to break away from the cops' grabbing hold on him.

Another officer came over. "You must be Takuji Yamashiro's ward, Shinji Ikari. I'm sorry to tell you but…"

"Let me go! Where's-" Shinji stopped when he saw another thing that made his heart stopped.

A group of officers were carrying a bag. A body bag.

Shinji looked over the cop who came over. "I'm sorry, but your guardian…"

"No… nonono NO!" Shinji escaped the grips of the officers as he ran to the body bag being carried away towards the ambulance car.

"Please no! YAMASHIRO! Please…" He felt his eyes getting watery as he tried to grab onto the bag, only to be pulled away by other officers. "Why… why did this happen?"

One officer held a shoulder over the poor boy. "A burglar broke into the place an hour ago. A witness heard a gunshot sound and called us in, but he managed to get away before we could arrive. From what we heard from other officers he was last seen around Mayonaka Park. We're gonna catch him-"

At that, Shinji ran away from the officers, onto the streets on his own. The officer saw for a split second trails of tears falling on the boy's face, along with fiery eyes twisted onto an angry face. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Poor kid… he needs some time to himself."

_______________________________________________________________________

Nighttime reigned in Mayonaka Park.

One of the various changes introduced to the newly christened Kokoro was the creation of a large park around the small neighborhood. It was a rather popular area for dates and tourists, intentionally done to bring some nature into the city. A forest was grown in this area, which was what the burglar was counting on when he ran inside the park to escape the police. Nighttime, fairly large trees and being very good at running are key factors in his plan. When the time is right, he'll get away with the money he stole.

This would be his lucky night!

So why was his whole body shaking? He took a brief glance at his gun. He managed to swipe it off a police officer he passed by. He thought it would make things easier for himself, but shooting that guy in his house… that wasn't part of the plan. That wasn't supposed to happen! He just wanted the money! Why didn't he just give it to him?

'He just talked to me, asking about why I was robbing… keeping me distracted while reaching for the phone!' That's what the burglar tells himself, but he was having doubts about that. He couldn't be sure. If it was a trick of the mind or something, then he wound up killing a man for nothing. He couldn't be sure and that was driving him mad.

"Calm down, you gotta get outta here!" Slowly losing his mind. he started breathing heavily as he was suffering a nervous breakdown right in the middle of the Park's forest.

A twig snapped.

"WHO'S THERE!" The burglar waved his gun around, eyes bulging in a state of panic. Looking around he couldn't see anyone. "COME OUT ALREADY!"

After several more minutes of searching, he backed up to a tree as he saw it.

A shadow a few feet from him.

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER, I GOT A GUN YOU HEAR ME!" He screamed out in fear.

The figure came two steps closer.

"GO AWAY!" He fired the gun straight at the shadow… but it didn't hit.

In the split second that the shadow dodged the bullet, it threw something from his hand above the burglar. Then a tree branch hit the burglar's arm, knocking away the gun from his hand!

Another few seconds and the shadow was right in front of the burglar and hit his stomach. Another punch was launched into his right cheek, and another to the left! The shadow was launching a series of punches at the burglar which he can't escape from!

"You bastard, I'm gonna GET YOU!" In a small break, the burglar managed to throw a punch… but the shadow grabbed it. He grabbed hold of the fist-

"GYAAAAAAARRRRGGHHHH!" and squeezed it for all it's worth, with the intent to make the burglar suffer.

The shadow grabbed hold of the burglar with the other hand and tossed him across the forest, knocking him into a nearby lamppost!

"Why you doing this?" The burglar said in rapid, ragged breaths. "What'd I ever do to you?!"

"You know what you did, murderer." The voice of the shadow was a cold, angry tone.

The burglar's eyes widened in surprise, "I swear, I didn't mean to kill him-"

"HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" The burglar tried to get up, but the shadow was too quick and just whaled on him. Each punch was damaging; a broken nose, loose teeth, chest hurting like mad. The shadow had no mercy for this man. He has gone berserk. "You KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!"

"I didn't even know his name…" The burglar let out in a hoarse voice, reeling from his injuries. "I just wanted his money… why didn't he call the cops?"

His shirt was grabbed by both of the shadow's hands. "You're going to pay for what you did!" He held him up and pushed him straight into the lamppost.

The light from the lamppost helped the burglar get a good luck at his attacker.

A kid. A small, brown haired, blue eyed kid. Who was crying and angry. The burglar got a strange sensation he had seen him before…

But the kid's face went from righteous anger into one of pure shock. The burglar could have sworn he heard him say You… The shock caused his hands to let go of the burglar, who tried to scurry away from the young boy.

"Get away from me, you little psycho!" He folded his arms around his head, crying from the pain.

A short silence passed between the two as the burglar sniffled, hugging and weeping to himself.

The burglar felt himself getting covered in something.

"You won't say anything." The burglar heard footsteps growing distant with each second.

By the time the police arrived, the burglar allowed himself get arrested.

_______________________________________________________________________

It was him.

The burglar. He was the same thief from yesterday. The one let escape with a woman's purse.

'It's all my fault.' Shinji thought as he rubbed his eyes with his shoulder. No matter how much he tried, the tears wouldn't stop. 'If I had stopped him-'

If he had stopped the thief, then Takuji Yamashiro would still be alive.

He would have told Yamashiro about his powers. They would have talked more, opened up more to one another and maybe at last have a true relationship.

'You could hurt someone with that kind of power. Be responsible okay?'

But he's gone now. And it was his fault, and he nearly beat a man to death in his anger.

The adrenaline gone, Shinji was ashamed of what he had did. What he had nearly done. He had powers and using them like that, wailing on a man… it made him sick. That and not using his powers to stop the thief when he could made him feel more shame. Shaking his head, he wanted to stop thinking. Shinji reached into his pocket. He pulled out his S-DAT player and earphones to listen to music once more. He started the walk back to his house, no doubt the police would want him to answer questions-

"HELP!"

Just as he was about to place the earphones on, he heard that word cried out in the darkness. He took a glance throughout the street and sure enough, in an alley he saw the same woman from yesterday getting accosted from some thugs.

Shinji couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. He tried walking off, to just put on the headphones and listen to his favored music.

A thug put his hand around her mouth and pushed her towards the wall while the other one dumped the contents of her purse onto the ground.

You are the only one. sou yo anata dake

But he couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

Afureteru namida sukuu no wa

His body moving without thinking, he dropped the earphones and ran straight towards the alley.

You must fly away

itsumo

omotteru

Kiseki okosu chikara wo shinjite

Author's Notes:

It’s an old one from 2018. I’m not going to be posting more chapters on here. If you want to see more adventures of this particular Spider-Shinji, go to here or here.

The song that Shinji is listening to is You are the only one by Kotono Mitsuishi, from the Lilia from Ys soundtrack. A rough translation of the lyrics is here:

(1) To a place to guide you

A flock of birds flapping

What is on the dry earth

A lot of cracked hearts

I can hear the voice that calls you

Strong enough to beat the buzz

You are the only one

(2) To a town full of sorrow

The wind of sand is blowing

Even a small piece of hope

I'll change it

(3) You are the only one

The overflowing tears

You must fly away

Believe in the power of miracles

[hazzabeeforlou]

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is. 

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful. 

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating. 

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. 

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso. 

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards. 

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay. 

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died. 

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...  

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert. 

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day. 

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone. 

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on. 

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too. 

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life. 

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too. 

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come. 

[bngtanah]

DBBG |Graduation Day

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss. pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park) x Named OC characters: meet the cast. genre: fluff, suggestive themes word count: 2.5k chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14 warning: mutual pining, making out, groping/heavy petting, childhood friends to lovers(in a sense, moonlight talks.

A/N: If anyone is actually interested in my multi-chapter fic, this is just a little flashback chapter that I couldn't get out of my head.

**Bolded speech denotes that the characters are speaking English.

16:04:00 PM

Samuel was nervous. Not because today was the day he'd been waiting for since he enrolled in Highschool, not because everyone in the auditorium where he was currently seated expected him and 152 of his classmates to begin their transformations into adulthood. It wasn't even because they volunteered him to be the representative of the graduating class, meaning he had to be the one to lead nine other students in presenting rice cakes to their teachers and hope that he didn't trip over his own two feet.

The only source of stress for Samuel on his graduation day was because his best friend was nowhere to be seen.

"She said she'd be here" Sammy muttered to himself as he lifted his head to look at the section his parents were sitting in once again. Erin's family sat in the same row, but there was still an empty spot where Erin was meant to be. Both sets of parents and younger siblings waved when they noticed him looking, they gestured for him to pay attention to the speaker instead of looking up at them every five minutes. Sam exhaled and reluctantly obeyed, turning back to the speaker up ahead of him just in time to be called up to the stage.

"You know he can't see you if you're crouching behind that pillar the entire time" James Anthony, Erin's father, whispered toward her as she tried to sneak another glance at Sammy walking toward the stage.

"I know Dad, that's why I'm hiding," She replied "I want to surprise him- Oh look! He's going on stage, aw he looks so cute in his uniform. Stop looking back here before he notices me."

James chuckled softly and leaned back into his seat, he'd given up trying to understand why his daughter did the things she did a very long time ago. Life for both of them was simpler that way.

"What are they doing now?" He whispered to Ariana, his wife, but she looked just as confused as he was.

"It looks like they're giving the teachers food? They didn't do that at Pumpkin's graduation did they?" She stated, referring to Erin.

"I don't think so."

"It's an old tradition," Sam's mother, Subin, interjected in a whisper, leaning over Erin's empty seat "Students give presents to teachers after an academic achievement, I think this is the first time they've done it here, though."

"Ooh..." James and Ariana sighed simultaneously.

The Anthony's couldn't have been blessed with better neighbours than Park Jooheon and his family. Moving to South Korea as a black family was hard enough to begin with but moving to an area where they were the only foreigner family made the first few months in the new country almost unbearable. James only knew a few Korean phrases since he frequently travelled back and forth from Texas for business but his wife and three young children knew none of the language at all. They hated being away from their friends, surrounded by people that looked at them like they were animals in a zoo, it was miserable.

That all changed when the Parks moved in next door. Subin and Jooheon Park were Korean by birth but had lived in California for most of their lives, their children were born there and if not for the deteriorating health of Subin's father they probably would have remained there. Both families took an immediate liking to each other and suddenly life in South Korea for the Anthony family wasn't so bad.

The ceremony ended with a thundering applause and the students quickly filed out of the auditorium after the faculty had left. The parents and family members in the audience began making their way toward the entrance to wait for their fresh graduates.

A few minutes later students began trickling out of the school's entrance, covered in flour and grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm free!" Sammy yelled at his family's direction as he all but ran towards them. Once he reached the group, everyone took their turn giving him words of encouragement and congratulations. As happy as Samuel was to be surrounded by so many people who cared for him, his face fell when he noticed one face that wasn't in the crowd.

"So.... I guess Erin didn't come?" Sammy asked, sounding somber as he glanced around the group and fully noticed her absence.

James and Ariana exchanged a short awkward glance. They didn't want to lie to him since they could see Erin quietly approaching him quietly from behind.

"Yah! You didn't think I'd miss your graduation day did you?" Erin exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, pulling him closely against her. Sammy, utterly startled, screamed at the sudden contact but his momentary fear died down the second he heard Erin's voice. Sammy was sure he had never been happier than he was as that moment, all the disappointment he was feeling earlier melted away the second he felt Erin's arms around him. Then again, he was always happy when Erin was around; and even more so when she was touching him.

He spun around as quickly as his body would let him and wrapped his arms around her waist, his smiling face burrowing into the crook of her neck. "I thought you couldn't come," He said mumbled against her skin softly. Erin grinned and carded her fingers through his hair "Don't be silly, I would never miss this."

Subin and Ariana shared a knowing smile at the affectionate display and Jooheon cleared his throat nonchalantly to subtly remind the pair of "friends" that their hug was rapidly leaving friend territory.

Erin was the first to detach herself and step backward, making Sammy reluctantly let her go. "I really am proud of you," She said with a genuine smile as she pressed her palm against his cheek. Sammy nuzzled his face against her hand, humming softly like a kitten while still gazing down at his best friend with nothing but admiratioin in his eyes and mouthed a silent 'Thank you' 

"Well, Ariana and I didn't spend all day cooking to let it go to waste, who's hungry?"

Hours passed by, and before anyone noticed the sun had set, and the night was setting in. It was too late for Erin to take the bus back to Seoul so she stayed with her parents for the night, even if that meant waking up at the ass-crack of dawn so she wouldn't be late for her first class the next day.

Erin had already been asleep for over an hour when she heard her cell phone chirp the first time. She ignored it, at first, reasoning that if it was important, the person would call her instead of texting. Exactly five minutes passed before her phone began ringing.

"Yeah?" She answered groggily.

"I can't sleep," Samuel said, responding to a question Erin didn't ask.

"Guess what I was doing?" She yawned.

"Let's go to the beach."

"Sammy what the hell..." 

"Come on, it'll be fun!" He whispered, even over the phone Erin could tell he was giving her his most convincing smile.

She groaned and argued but rolled out of bed and got dressed, regardless. Not too long after they hung up Erin was awake and shuffling barefoot through the sand, hand in hand with an overly excited high school graduate. 

"The sky is so beautiful at night..." Samuel finally said as he stopped walking just a few feet from the shoreline, Erin was still half asleep and only grunted in response. 

"Erin.... can I ask you something?"

She nodded since her head was pressed against his shoulder and she still didn't feel like making full sentences.

"What's life like after graduation?"

Erin chuckled softly, glancing up at Samuel who was still looking forward at the waves rolling in.

"Is that what this is about? You're worried about what your life will be like now?"

"It's just...." Samuel shuffled awkwardly from the balls of his feet to his heels, "Up until now all the big decisions have been made for me you know? Now it's all up to me and I just want to make my parents proud of me.... I don't know if I can."

"You know your parents will be proud of you no matter what you do with your life. They love you,"

"Loving me isn't the same thing as being proud of me" Sam grumbled and kicked his foot against the sand.

"Come here," Erin sighed and grabbed his hands, pulling him back toward the dry sand. She took a seat and patted the ground next to her.

"Are you planning on selling drugs?"

Samuel smirked and shook his head.

"Your body?" Erin asked in a soft whisper, leaning forward with her eyebrow quirked upward.

"No," Samuel laughed and playfully nudged her shoulder.

"Then nothing else matters. As long as you're doing something that makes you happy and you're doing it to the best of your ability I can guarantee that Jooheon and Subin Park will support 100%. You know that."

Samuel considered her words for a few seconds then nodded, curling up his lips so that his dimples were prominent. "You're right"

"Of course I am..... Just promise me you'll stay happy alright?"

"Yeah...."

"Promise!" Erin repeated and hit him gently on the arm.

"Aish, I promise!" He hissed sharply even thought her hit didn't really hurt "When did my noona get so smart?" Sam simpered and gingerly pinched Erin's cheek. She tried to swat his hand away, but Sammy dodged her attack and launched a counter of his own. Reaching forward, Sam moved his fingers against Erin's sides to playfully tickle her which made her double over with laughter. Erin wasn't overly ticklish, but she was tired and possibly delirious which made her lot more sensitive than usual. Samuel found himself laughing at her amusing reaction as well, her head and upper body fell backward bringing Sammy right along with her. He hovered above her and peered down at her beaming face, it alarmed him just how much he wanted to kiss her at that moment.

Of course, he was already aware that Erin was beautiful, Samuel noticed that from the second he'd laid eyes on her. But this was the first time he was conscious of how much he was attracted to her. Her dark brown hair sprawled out over the sand in spiraling waves around her head as her laughing subsided and her chest rose and fell beneath him Sam was frozen in place above her.

"Are you okay?" She asked and reached up to move the hair that obstructed her view of his face, allowing her index finger to trail along his jawline before resting gently on his chest.

The warmth of her hand permeated throughout his skin, burning a lick of fire throughout his body and that single little touch was all it took to make Samuel lose total control of his senses.

His hand moved upward from her side to cradle Erin's chin. Confusion washed over her face, but any uncertainty about he was planning to do next left her the moment he began moving closer and she did nothing to stop him. Nervously he pressed his lips against hers and Erin's eyelids fluttered shut as she was overcome with a desire she didn't even know she possessed. Her mouth opened slightly and Samuel took that as a sign to continue. He tilted his head to deepen their kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips and tentatively caressing and massaging against hers.

Erin moaned softly and the sound only made it more difficult for Samuel to be sensible about the situation and stop himself before things got out of hand. Instead, the passion between them intensified, his hands began roaming her body freely as Erin's hands travelled underneath his t-shirt and her nails ran down the measure of his back with a light pressure.

The two separated momentarily, racing to catch their breaths as both of them stared the other down like they were seeing each other for the first time. Some awkwardness was expected, but that wasn't quite what they were feeling at that moment. Samuel was the first to smile. His fingertips trailing over her flushed skin, and Erin soon followed and traced the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip before their lips melded together again and Erin felt something stir in her that she was sure she’d never felt before. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him even closer, her legs parting so that he was slotted between them.

Sammy put all he had into the kiss now, no longer nervous or awkward about kissing her. It felt nice to be like this with his best friend; tongues massaging and bodies wrapped up in one another. He groaned as her nails pressed into his back again, and unconsciously his hips pushed forward to grind against her core as Erin matched each one of his slow strokes with a movement of her own.  He continued to kiss her with passion and fervor, his arm now supporting her lower back and his other hand held the back of her head. Sam slowed down the pace of their kisses, pulling away with her bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Erin's fingers rifled through his hair, a pleasurable moan tumbling from her lips as his mouth kissed a trail down her neck, nipping and sucking the skin there. “You are so beautiful” Sam complimented in a delicate voice as his hand moved from her back to smooth down her side, gripping her hips. His praise made Erin grin and she opened her mouth to respond, but her breath caught in her throat when she felt his hand move beneath the band of her sweatpants to rub outside her panties and stroke the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs.

The sound of footsteps behind them made Erin's eyes shoot open. A flashlight shone brightly on them and they both froze.

"Yah, perverts! What are you doing down there?" The voice wasn't familiar which mean it was probably a security guard and luckily not one of their parents.

"Oh shit, oh shitshitshitshitshitshit" Samuel panicked and scrambled off Erin's body while she pulled her hoodie over her head to cover her face.

"What do we do?" Erin asked before she felt Sammy grabbed her hand and interlace their fingers.

"Run."

[skiasurveys]

497

If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be?

- I’m not sure maybe a cute fox or something dedicated to my dad who died

If you could play any musical instrument, what would it be and why? If you already play an instrument(s), what do you play and why?

I wish I could play the piano

When trick-or-treating as a kid, was there any kind of candy that you didn’t like to get?

- tootsie rolls, or anytnjnf that would get stuck in my teeth

Why do you live in the Washington DC area?

Nope

What is your favorite memory of Christmases past?

- just going to bed on Christmas Eve excited and my sister texting me on our iPod touches that we got being all excited lol

If a movie was being made of your life and you could choose the actor/actress to play you, who would you choose and why?

Natalie Portman but idk

Paper or plastic?

Plastic isn’t good so I guess paper

What was the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten?

Tbh I’m basic as hell lmao so nothing

What do you keep in the trunk of your car?

Grocery bags, Manuel’s and some car junk

When you were in grade school, what did you want to be when you grew up? Why?

- artist bc it was fun and I enjoyed doing it

If you owned a CB radio what would your “handle” be?

Not sure

If you were given 24 hrs to live, what would you do?

Hang with those I love, write notes to everyone but I wouldn’t tell anyone

If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be?

Hmmm prob being a dumb ass bitch

What do you think the most ultimate gift of the world is?

Idk

If you had one extra hour of free time a day, how would you use it?

More art or sleeping tbh

What CD is in your CD player right now?

I don’t have a CD player lol

Name the most famous person you’ve had a face to face encounter with.

No one

Name your favorite children’s story.

Idk tbh didn’t have any

If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why?

Gabbie

What person in the Bible do you most closely identify with?

Lmao let’s b real Judas

What article of clothing most closely describes your personality?

Jeans bc I’m so basic LMAO

If you were to write a book what would it be about?

Maybe mental health or poetry.

How many rings before you answer the phone?

2

What is the first thing you think of when you wake in the morning?

Depends on the day. Sometimes it’s ugh and sometimes I’m excited

If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it?

Pay off my loans and pay back some people

If you had to, what part of your body would you get pierced?

Ears

Who was your favorite teacher and why?

My social studies teacher for grade 11&12. She made everything so fun

What makes you feel the most secure?

I really don’t know cus I never feel secure

Who do you admire the most?

There’s quite a bit

Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? What was it?

Not really

What was your nickname growing up?

Jean... or jenen so cringe so cringe

Peanut or plain?

Like on toast? Peanut ?

What is your favorite cartoon character & why?

Idk Simba or Bobby hill lmao idk why

How did you learn to ride a bicycle?

I got on the bike and my dad helped.. lmaoo

Based on something you’ve already done, how might you make it into the Guinness Book of World Records?

I have no talent so

What’s the closest you’ve come to becoming a pop star/winning an Oscar?

I admire you for thinking this 😂

When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it?

A bout a month ago I one wheeled

What is your concept of a fruitful day?

What does this mean lmao

What was your favorite thing to play with as a child? Why?

Plastic wolves, animals or the game cube

If you could be any animal in the world for 24 hours, which animal would you be? Why?

A wolf

Have you ever jumped out of a plane?

I wish

If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be?

World hate

What is your best personal characteristic?

I’m a good listener I think

What is your favorite quote?

Idk I like whatever happens, happens

If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do?

Possibly steal 😳

What is your favorite weird food combination?

Ok hear me out but maple syrup on pierogies

If you had to be a flower, which one would you like to be and why?

Sunflower

If you were stranded on a desert island, what three books and three people would you take with you?

Books?! Prob a Manuel on how to live and jennifer, connor and Julie maybe

My biggest pet peeve is…

Men tbh

What is your favorite commercial? What commercial annoys you the most?

Don’t have one bc I don’t watch tv

What’s the most interesting “Ice Breaker” Question you have ever been asked?

I don’t know any lol

If you could be an ice cream flavor, what would it be? Why?

Cake batter or mint

Name a turning point in your life that makes you smile/cry.

When I realized my friend was toxic af or when my dad died. Happy? Idk

If there were a holiday in your honor what would it celebrate?

Idk

What clubs were you a member of in High School? Are you still interested in any of the same things?

None

If you were to be on a reality TV show which one would you be on and why?

None tbh

If you could be anything in the world, what would you be and why?

Artist

If someone rented a billboard for you, what would you put on it?

My ig

If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be?

Make mole hills into mountains

If you were a Smurf, what would your name be?

Idk

What is your worst personality characteristic?

Insecure af

If you had to be a teacher of something, what would you teach?

How to draw maybe

How would you like to be remembered?

I don’t even know. Maybe how kind I am or my art

What is one thing that you constantly think about (other than material things)?

Life I guess

What do you like best about your hometown?

Nice paths I guess

Something interesting you might not know about me is…

Idk I was hit by a car at age 8

[beabaseball]

this is a delirious 11pm post for Adults Only guys

Leave this space, child!

...

...

...

...y’all teenagers are going to be tweaked out of their goddamn minds.

Like, not necessarily in the drugged way, though some maybe yes in the drugged way, but like. Specifically in the non-drug way, they’re going to be snippy, and inattentive, and self centered. And that’s probably fine.

Like. Of course teens are self-centered, their bodies are doing weird shit for the first time and people keep making jokes they don’t understand yet, and some of these fuckers haven’t been given sex ed so they don’t even know what’s coming.

The younger teens have just emerged from the child form that has only just started being able to comprehend a larger world. In elementary school, sure I was reading time magazine for kids and we prayed for people who were being reported (religious school; recent tsunami, it happens) and when I was in 1st or 2nd grade we heard rumors that once upon a time women weren’t allowed to do the same stuff as men, but like— you can feel those things, but it’s not really something that you comprehend unless it’s right then a part of your life. I remember the first time I really ‘got’ sexism was in ninth grade in a gym class of 24 boys to 3 + me girls, and I wrote bad poetry about it in my phone for like three months trying to process it.

When I was like 16 our car broke down midway to school and we had to call my dorm parent to come drive me the next 5 mins, and so he’s in a bad mood bc he has to pick me up, and mom is in a bad mood bc car she gets a feeling dorm parent didn’t believe her when she said the car broke down, and it’s like 80 out but more importantly the humidity is a swamp, and I just remember being in his car driving the rest of the way to school and he’s complaining about sunburns bc he’s super pale and Irish, but he’s trying to talk so I kind of say “huh well i’ve never gotten a sunburn. I tan real fast and then go inside and I’m white again.”

and even in the moment I remember being like “that’s not really what he wanted to hear” and I think he even made a face, but I was too out of it and hot and tired to really do anything passed that. And I do feel kind of bad about it? Like, I did not mean to demean his pain of sunburns and I know also that at the time he was having A Rough Time with his marriage, to the point where he had us doing religious plays about parenthood for three seasons straight.

But also, I was a teenager. And looking back I can’t exactly blame my past self for just kinda... saying some words and feeling bad the rest of the car ride but also too tired to care. Theater teacher man wasn’t a bad guy; we were definitely not good at reading each other and he thought musicals sucked, but he also was the one who comforted me out of a panic attack when we had a tornado warning and I ended up convinced my daystudent friend was going to die.

Because that’s what I cared about at the time. Me-related things. Yes, tornado, but I am worried about one (1) person, and that mattered to me. I stayed behind when we got an actual sex-ed person in 7th grade because I was scared that reading yaoi would send me to hell. I had a breakdown in front of my history professor because one of my friends was discovering her gender identity and I was scared I was ‘losing her’ (you know the words!)

Now, someone comes out to me or someone doesn’t understand a term and I’m over here like “yea which definition u wanna use” but back then I was a kid and I had never experienced anything like this before, my hormones were wild—which didn’t mean I was horny and wanted boyfriend, it meant I was in constant fear of bleeding through things and every now and then I would wake up and my body would be in surprise unknowable pain (aka I was finally big enough to cut off my own circulation in my sleep and also growing pains)

Now, I’ve got a lot of that under control. When I wake up with a body in pain I usually know why and probably it is my fault actually. I know a bit better how to get through days when I’m too hot, or too groggy, or just dissociation or mad. (The trick is: say aloud, “sorry if I’m not responding much, I’m just really hot/groggy/out of it/still upset about that.” )

That’s not something a lot of teens have down yet. I saw a kid with a naruto shirt on at work once and I said “hey naruto” and he looked at me like he’d seen the face of god, he was so surprised someone knew what naruto was. To someone even MILDLY in my age range, the idea of not knowing who Naruto is is preposterous. But this was like, 12-15 year old at the most. Not hit his growth spurt yet. Just absolutely blindsided that there was an outside world which recognized something he liked, which I’m gonna wildly guess his parents probably aren’t into or don’t talk about it with him, because the thought of talking Naruto with your kid is horrifying.

Obviously, thinking other people don’t know about naruto is a similar kind of self-centered thought along the lines of “I bet thigh chick isn’t a REAL fan of x” or “EVERYONE has an opinion on me and there is no in between” where like the world... sort of revolves around you.

And like, once that person grows up if they keep that sort of self-focus, that’s usually the time you start trying to ditch them, but even older teens are still just coming out of that larval childhood state. They know a lot more about the world than we probably did at their age—I know a lot of them aren’t having the same existential crisis over their friends’ gender like I did, which is a big ol step— but there are still days that it’s going to be too much new shit to deal with, plus whatever else is happening inside them personally. And it’ll take a while to learn how to handle that.

In the meantime, they might be snappish, or out of it, or just kind of give up and have a ‘fuck it’ attitude sometimes, and it drives a lot of adults just goddamn insane it seems, according to all the mildly aggressive parents at work, trying to get kids who don’t want to be there to give the right reactions. It’s probably not even anything personal to the event that’s making them unhappy. One time I talked to a kid who was crying, and when I got her to tell me what was bothering her, it turned out that some people on her family reunion were mean to her. Nothing about the immediate ‘now’, just a lot of emotion that needed to go somewhere, and that somewhere ended up being crying, and it was not at all about respect or disrespect or anything related to us. Probably most of what was needed was to talk about it (success) and take a long nap.

The first time I remember having a meltdown with a ‘trigger’ like that, I was in 5th grade and my first assignment was something like “what did you do over summer” so I lost my entire shit and cried on the couch for an hour. Passed out, slept til 7, woke up and was fed soup, and have no idea if I finished that paper but presumably I did because I remember a nap and food working.

I would keep having these homework meltdowns periodically, and I don’t know when they stopped, but I had at least one, maybe two, in my first year of college.

And eventually I’ve just kinda.... stopped having them. Stress about a big project wasn’t something that bothered me anymore. You just did it one step at a time, and when you started thinking “maybe I’ll do it in the morning”, you immediately go to bed because you’ve already lost the fight and even if you don’t do it in the morning at least you won’t face it sleep deprived.

It takes time and living to get these experiences, and while one kid might not have the same issues with school work I had, maybe something else just knocks them on their ass every time (same) and it is just. Literally something you need to live through a couple times before you know how to deal with it. You can provide Blank Slate Alien Person with all the mental health tips and anecdotal advice and chamomile tea as you want, but the first couple times they face stress, none of those tips help if they don’t know how to implement them.

If you’ve ever assembled something by instructions and ended up building it upside down—it’s easier to build it again once you’ve gotten mad and undone it and started again. Because you’ve practiced. You already had the instructions, but now you have the experience of building it already, even if the result wasn’t the one you wanted.

Teens are learning a) how to read instructions, and b) that their assembly is probably upside down. and in the meantime, the world is also bonkers wild right now.

When they have that moment of rage, or giving up, or aloofness upon finding shit got built upside down— just. Let them.

You don’t have to ‘fix’ it or ‘fix’ them for having these emotions, or lack of them.

These are normal reactions. They make sense. All I’m asking is that we understand it’s going to happen. These emotions are going to happen.

Don’t let yourself justify being mean to kids and teens by telling yourself they’re being disrespectful. The world and their lives and emotions also don’t revolve around you. It’s not always a rebellion or reason to fight when things get too high strung to hold total control of.

That doesn’t mean ignore them. I was maybe 12 or 13, and it was 90 on a metal ship, and i was wearing an under shirt because i didn’t have a bra, so two layers of clothes on a hot metal ship, on my period— and all I remember is asking my dad to let us sit down and eat some lunch, because i was dizzy and dehydrated, and all he just kept saying we would do it once he saw the tour. I have no idea how long it was but I probably could’ve cried and been called moody or uncooperative.

Life is difficult. Especially for people who aren’t yet in control of their situations. Who are still bursting out with emotions they can’t otherwise articulate.

Be kind to that.

[rivkahstudies]

do you have any advice for a high school senior who wants to make the most of their last year of high school? asking for a friend :)

hi darling! I think the things I remember most from my senior year (though it was only two years ago that it started) can be summarized in, “crazy busy, crazy stressful, but at times, crazy fun.” Here’s to making the most of it, and maintaining health while you do so!

This is going to be combination masterpost and advice post, because I’ve accumulated a lot on this subject and I have a loooot to say. 

Also this is heavily based off of the assumption you’re pursuing higher education, but some of these things still apply/can be tweaked.

table of contents:

i. academics

ii. social life

iii. personal health

i. 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓼

a. grades

They’re important for your future if your plan is to go to college or academy, but they’re not the whole world. (see social life and personal health)

I’m not a big fan of the “3-to-1 rule” or other such things that tell you “study for this amount of time no matter what” because it’s important for you to understand what comes naturally to you and what you need further clarification on. Some classes are going to take up less of your time than others.

The best you can do on a given day isn’t necessarily 100%. Sometimes your best that day is 90%, 80%, 60%. “try your best” isn’t “your best ever” so don’t push yourself for 100s every time for the expense of categories ii and iii.

A lot of people (at least in places like where I went to high school) who are hung up on the stress of competition and the need to be The Best™ are going to ask you for grades. It’s going to be everywhere. Assignment grades, test grades, SATs, ACTs, (if you’re not in the US, the equivalents of your state, regional, or national standardized tests), entrance exams, et cetera, et cetera. I know it’s tempting to fall into the anxiety of whether you measure up, but here’s a quick tip: even if you think you did well/above average, you can keep it private. It infuriated my classmates when I wouldn’t share, because I was comfortable with how I competed with myself and didn’t care what my peers thought of my scores. 

When you’re someone as dedicated to studying as I am, you might get a lot of “oh, you got that grade because you’re you” (the underlying implication being that it’s natural or the work is easy for you, which was not the case for me) or “ha! I got higher than (name)! I measure up!” This is a lot of their own biases and insecurity talking and the best way not to be affected is not to buy into it. Again, this is based on my own experience.

 I really cannot emphasize extra credit enough because some of my teachers threw it around like candy and some of them barely drizzled a little in at intervals, but either way it really saved me when it came to rounding my grades up.

It never hurts to have a grade tracker if you’re concerned, you don’t get graded by total points accumulation/have a weighted system, and/or don’t have an easy way to access your grades online throughout the year.

find your study strategy/ies for each class and stick to it/them. It won’t necessarily be the same. I’m a primarily visual learner, and it really, really helps for most things, but I still need rote memorization for subjects with a lot of vocabulary, like medicine or languages.

further resources

studying without notes by @fuckstudy . 

prioritizing that crazy to do list (the abcde method) by @eintsein

a comphrensive guide to anki (flashcards online) by @studyingstudent

a stash of tiny study tips by @acalmstudiousfirecracker

and much much more on my #studyref tag.

b. extracurriculars

These I think matter (though I’m biased) more than grades, because they’re what shape you and your experience. Most of the students at my university had grades like mine, but it’s the places I frequented and the people to whom I devoted my time that formed my sense of self. I have so many skills, anecdotes, and ideas that I’ve gained from my extracurricular work.

If you have any you’ve stuck with since early in high school and you still like, keep ‘em. Quality over quantity. Show jobs or universities you can be dedicated and disciplined, and have stamina to see projects to the end. (I was in 7 and held leadership positions in 4 and it was probably part of the reason why I spent all of senior year on three hours sleep… besides my IB classes of course.)

If you’re not pursuing college immediately or at all (or even if you are), participate in ones that pull you out of your comfort zone and teach you something new.

ii. 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮

Treat this category as you would anything else in your schedule–requiring time and being a significant priority. Not always at the very top, but still demanding its own attention.

See friends outside of school, for however long or short a period, at least once every week to two weeks. This can include extracurricular time if you’re pressed.

Schedule time with your family (especially if their lives are also cluttered and hectic) do something dynamic, and also something separate that’s relaxing. One week your family time might be reading in the same room and having gentle conversation or a family dinner; the next might be going out to the movies or taking a hike together. It can be easy to feel taken for granted or to take family for granted.

By the way, this includes “chosen” family if you’re not on great terms with some/all of them. I have experience with this too.

Get. Out. Of. The. House. This plays into “personal health” too! You need a change in rhythm/routine and exposure to the outside. Especially in your winter season. 

I’m one of those people who has to have things scheduled way in advance, so family/curfew/etc permitting, do something a little bit spontaneous, say with only a few hours or a couple days notice. It will make you feel more alive if you’re in a stressful slump.

Communication is really important, especially if you’re stressed. Don’t be afraid to tell people “I am sensitive/hyperreactive to X because Y is putting me on edge right now” or “this triggers X insecurity because I’m anxious about Y.” This goes doubly if you’re struggling with mental illness. Talk to someone you trust. (See “personal health.”)

Don’t give in to peer pressure if you’re spent the time you need with friends and have to excuse yourself for other responsibilities. Balance!

No is equally as important to respected as Yes, no matter what the case.

Respect boundaries but invite people to challenge their comfort zone at their space.

Don’t be broken up if a romantic relationship doesn’t last. It’s senior year. Everything’s changing. Let it.

Also, please don’t be like me and let your summer/your school year be eaten up with relationship drama. I thankfully ended a difficult relationship early (late September) so it wasn’t a huge issue, but I watched people close to me struggle with while also battling the stress of the year.

iii. 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱

mentally

If you’re struggling with mental illness, be aware of your own limits and pace yourself.

Sometimes we feel dull because we need to break routine/stimulate ourselves in a new way. You should have a structure/routine, but it should be flexible enough for you to adapt to changes and listen to what your mind and body are telling you.

The path to self-love must first begin with self-acceptance. If you struggle with self-image or self-esteem issues, you can’t build positivity off a foundation of negativity. You must first level it to neutrality.

Perform check-ups with yourself. This may be in the form of meditation, a diary, therapy, etc. None of these things are a “last resort” but rather a healthy part of building good mental habits.

physically

Exercise! You don’t have to be a star athlete to bring about the benefits. Even a 15 minute jog, 30 minute walk/hike, or 10 minutes of stretching can give you benefits.

On that note! Take! Frequent! Breaks! And please, please google stretches for certain body parts like hands if you do repetitive motion like drawing or writing for a long period of time! You don’t want to push yourself!

Listen to your body and don’t ignore pain, hunger, nausea, fatigue, etc. Respond patiently and with what’s appropriate.

Don’t forget about diet. It’s easy when you’re busy to reach for the quick and nutritionally poor snacks/meals, but it’s really important to set aside time to cook/meal plan or even just throw together a quick snack tray of fruits/crackers/cheeses/etc. It doesn’t have to be instragrammable but you should have a balanced diet that factors in your specific needs, if you have any restrictions, etc.

Change yo pillow case frequently kids, it does wonders for acne.

I cannot stress enough! To! Stay! Hydrated! My goal is eventually eight glasses a day but my minimum is 4-5. I try to have one every meal, especially in college.

Bedtime is important! But more than that, wake up time is important. If you’re trying to adjust your schedule and can only keep one consistent, choose the time you wake up. Eventually your body will naturally become fatigued for the bedtime to match it. It’s how I turned my sleep schedule from 12:00 AM to 8:00 into 9:30 PM to 5:30 AM over the course of one winter break! 

If you’re a morning person, you’re a morning person. If you’re a night owl, you’re a night owl. There’s research now to prove that forcing yourself into a rhythm too extreme for your tendencies can make you feel awful either way.

At the end of the day, you’ve got one goal and one goal only: to look back on this year and be proud of what you’ve achieved and how you’ve grown. You shape your future and choose what matters most in your life!

If there’s anything else you think I’ve missed or you’d like me to cover more in depth/link more posts to, please ask me! I’d be happy to clarify/continue this series! I want to make sure you’re completely satisfied.

[dustedandsocial]

One thing and an Other thing

The One Thing:

After many failures in the world of responsible adulthood, I decided in 2010 that I would go full throttle into music distro and record label management. And for a fleeting moment, things were working out in my favor.

But let me back up. I had been having bizarre sleeping patterns going all the way back into my childhood, that no insomnia or depression diagnosis nor medication could ever fix. I never got an answer from a doctor that explained my sleep problems.

Essentially, my body and brain think that a day is 25 hours long. If you pause on that fact for a second, what becomes clear is that my sleep schedule rotates around the clock in a never-ending cycle. This had been the case for me from the age of 10, but clinical research studies were few and far between for most of my life.

Then in the summer of 2011 I learned for the first time that my vague sleeping issue was in fact a disorder, although I didn’t yet know the full extent of the limitations it imposed. Which is why for years I kept thinking there would be some way for me to keep working, despite being fired every time I tried to do so. I mostly lived on an annuity until I was 20 ($1047 per month), which came from a court decision when I was little (my mother committed suicide in a hospital and a court found them responsible, granting settlements to each of my family members). I kept thinking I could dance around extreme sleep fluctuations and pull myself up from the ground by my bootstraps, but I only ever fell back on my annuity.

When I was 12, the cops would show up at my house, wake me up, and drive me to school (my dad was a welder and made an early exit to work at 4:30am). Those near-truancies — as well as all the successful truancies! — along with my insistence on bringing alcohol in my backpack to school, smoking in the bathroom, getting high before school with friends, and stealing car stereos from the high school parking lot, all led me to multiple arrests, finally getting me the boot form junior public high school. There was also the despair of losing my mother at the age of 9, which was certainly an important aspect to all of this maladjustment, if not the most central factor. 

But without a cop showing up at my house, I’d wake up around 5PM.

At 13, I was placed in an “alternative school” (aka a program for trouble makers and drug dealers). Most students would sail though towards a diploma, being graded on video game scores, pick-up basketball games, and honest-to-god fantasy basketball gambling leagues (that I several times created for school credit!). We had smoke breaks twice a day in school, and I even sold one of my teacher’s pot. I only showed up half the school year, yet somehow graduated a half-year early at the age of 17. Basically, our ”alternative learning program” was a way for the school district to fudge numbers and make it look like they had rehabilitated kids. I managed to graduate High School easily without my disability playing a major factor. It all felt like being home schooled but with no parents or curriculum to help. Hence why five years into a dedicated leftist education, I can still barely understand Marxist arguments around value theory.

It would still be 11 years from my graduation until I learned about my sleep disorder, so the following years would be spent tossing and turning, going to work and class after being up 24 hours, often crashing at hour 40, then sleeping 24 hours straight to make up for massive sleep deprivation. I’d get fired left and right, girlfriends and family members had no idea what to express to me other than their lack of faith that I could ever get my shit together (and I believed as much myself, because what other explanation was there?)

I decided to work online in 2010 as I began 80/81 Records, as well as work part-time in physical space, all just to scrounge up enough money for distro items and record pressings. I started off with some relative success. I was the first in the US to distro Australian titles like Deaf Wish, Woolen Kits, Mad Nanna, Teen Archer, etc (all even before Bruce’s Easter Bilby!). I had a plethora of reissue releases from the Memoire Neuve label, as well that beautiful Les Olivensteins reissue LP. I even sold a sketchy Chosen Few bootleg to True Anon’s own Brace Belden (aka PissPigGrandad). 

By the age of 30, my body started to fall apart.Within a few years, despite a few solid releases on 80/81, I had to give up on a slew of planned record releases and call it quits. All were thankfully rescued by a couple of friendly labels, with masters sent off to a few others. These were: Mosquito Ego’s “Plomb” LP (thanks @ever-never-records), Pustostany’s “2012″ LP (shout out to the great Sweet Rot), Shovels S/T (thanks to Homeless Records), and Expert Alterations 12″ (Slumberland), and the Virvon Vavron EP, later taken care of by Girlsville Records. There was also the Human Hair "My Life As A Beast And Lowly Form” LP, which came in lieu of a 7″ I had planned for them (still streamable on the 80/81 Bandcamp). Sorry to all these fantastic bands! There was no label in the last decade better at not releasing records!

Nearly as long as I’ve been using this tumblr, I’ve been disabled. However, I didn’t realize I was *officially* disabled per the US government until last year, nor did I know that my condition was an incurable neurological disorder. In fact, it’s technicality not a sleep disorder. If earth had the rotational position of Mars, my circadian rhythms would be perfectly in sync. I've never brought it up here, I never wanted it to be a factor in how I presented myself, and I never wanted this to be a personal blog about my plight. But I can't in good conscience hide this aspect of myself any longer, while so many other disabled folks are engaged in fights for all of our rights, including those beyond the disabled community. 

Oh, and the other thing: 

I figured out last month that I am NOT a heterosexual guy. Queer? Omnisexual? How about "not straight”? Why did it take me so long to face up to this? Well, growing up in a poor and violent neighborhood meant that I needed to latch onto anything at a young age in order to keep myself safe. I could under no circumstances continue to endure the abuse that happened when I was very young, that I thought would come back my way if I opted out of a "straight"  “tough” identity. And even with that identity, I felt an inexplicable terror at all times, that seemed like it was seeping through the air, like it was the blood gushing from behind the hotel walls in “The Shining”. In order to avoid the terror, I had to act out in an extreme way so no one would question me. I’d always be the first to tell adults off. I’d always be the one to break into a house. I always be the first to steal, or mouth off to a cop. I did get choked by a cop once, which was also tame compared to the beatings my black and Hispanic friends received. But I also hated fighting, so that style of acting out was mostly a dodge and redirection of attention.

But so many toxic ideas overtook me over the years. While I may not have been outwardly homophobic as an adult, I no doubt policed my own behavior for decades, not allowing myself vulnerability, not allowing myself comfort, robbing myself of joy. And it took me three decades to shake that straight identity loose.

I think this straight identity I adopted though trauma is common for men, even though whose childhoods weren’t as traumatic as mine. That isn't to say that those who adopt it are closeted, but the ideology driving performative straight male expression can cut off naturally heterosexual men from understanding themselves and what it is that they most desire, who they want to connect with, what makes them complete. Heterosexuality as ideology is a giant fucking scam. You get nothing out of it, maybe an early death from a heart attack.

But I’m also happier now than I’ve ever been. When I gave up the straight identity, I completely gave up fear, and in ways far beyond matters of sexuality. That straight identity also policed how I though of women, and since I’ve been free of it, my relation to women has changed significantly. 

And now

I’m fighting month after month to get on disability and food stamps (I’ve been denied for disability seven times in eight years, and food stamps were just cut in RI). When all is sorted I’m going to join radical orgs in Providence. From here to there and beyond, it’s class struggle.

Had our welfare state not been decimated, or had we decommodified health care and housing, I would have never had to jump through so many hoops for ultimately no help. When I lacked diagnosis, I could have lived with dignity while I waited for an explanation of my issues, if only the society had a non-bureaucratic solution to personal crisis. I’m a “lumpen” of a sort, but I’m also now a committed small-c communist and queer. Sorry apolitical people, but the fight will be intense for the remainder of all our lives.

[phanfictrashalex]

01:00

The day finally came that Dan was waking up to an alarm again. It was his first day back to school since winter break. Going back was something that he hadn't been looking forward to since he got out.

He knew that he could probably get a better job with a school degree, but sometimes he was to the point where he wanted to completely drop out of school and find some shit job.

Dan liked to learn, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the people in his school the teachers and the students. He liked school up until high school started.

He always had people that he could talk to and hang out with, but when high school started that all changed. People started to change they began finding new friend groups and altogether ditched Dan. They probably had something going on in their lives, or that's what he told himself not wanting to dwell on it too much.

Dan wasn't too introverted. He didn't have to always be alone, but to mentally be able to handle a large crowd of people he had to have space for a few days so he didn't go completely insane.

High school became one of his worst nightmares whenever his dad left, he felt as if it was his fault.

-

It was 7 that morning, and his mother was yelling at him to get out of bed reminding him that he had school.

He finally got out of bed after 5 minutes of her poking at him to get up. He finds what clothes he is going to wear, a white t-shirt, black skinny jeans, his black converse, and a leather jacket to go over his shirt.

Dan gets out of the house by 7:30. He had to walk to school, but he wouldn't count it as the worst part of his day. Getting there was. Having to hear whatever drama went on over winter break, and their teachers yelling at them for whatever reason they can think of. It was the worst at times, and this is the reason that Dan didn't want to go back.

He puts on music as he tries to drown out the world around him for as long as he can before getting to school. After a 10 minute walk, he finally gets there.

It wasn't the fact that he was popular he wouldn't change that for the world. It was the fact that he didn't have any real friends. Most people came and stayed for his fame and popularity.

He was glad that it wasn't like his elementary school days. Those were the days when he got bullied the most. Anymore he was the one who was known to kick someone's ass if they tried to pick on him. People would make fun of his height, his hair, and his dimples. Anything they could think of they would use as an insult. It was quite tiring so he was glad when he did move.

The goal when he did move was to get on everyone's good side, the teacher's, the kid's, and become the popular kid. At this point, Dan started to straighten his hair because he didn't like his naturally curly hair.

-

This was another reason he didn't like going to school. He had to put on a character, be someone that he wasn't. He had to always get good grades, dress nice, straighten his hair, be this person who did all of these things. When in reality, all he wanted to do was go home and look on tumblr and stop having to put on an act for people to like him.

If putting on an act meant that he didn't get called a faggot every day, he was okay with it. The thing was, he wasn't even gay! He had never had a homosexual thought in his life. He didn't know where people were ever getting the assumption that he was gay to begin with.

-

It was time for class to start. Everyone gathered into a room and got taught the same thing one class after the other. It wasn't that he didn't like learning, it was the fact that he didn't like learning the same thing over and over again.

The teacher started speaking, Dan not really paying attention, all he wanted to know is what they were doing so he could get it over with. He didn't care that it was the day after winter break and everyone was probably exhausted.

Finally, after 20 minutes of lecturing them about getting more sleep and behaving, they got their assignments. This happened in every class that day, even getting lectured before lunch and reminded the rules.

"Hey what's up?" Chris turned to Dan and asked him.

It was currently lunch, everyone was talking at the top of their lungs to hear one another.

He shrugged at Chris, "Nothing much, would rather be at home though,"

Everyone in their group laughed at that and agreed. "I'm sure everyone wants to go home right now. The amount of times they've repeated the same thing over and over again is getting annoying."

Someone new caught Dan's eye, they were a boy with blue eyes, black hair, very pale skin, and about the same height as Dan. He had to be new, Dan had never seen him before in his life.

"Do you know who that is?" Dan said, pointing in the boy's direction.

Chris and Pj turned around to look at him. "Yeah, he's in my English class," Pj said. "His name is Phil."

"He looks like he belongs in a garden or something; not in this hell hole," Louise replied with. Dan knew that she wasn't wrong, there was no way that he was going to last a day without getting attacked.

"Yeah, I think he'll find his way around though," Dan sighs, "He seems to be getting along with a few people anyway."

It was nearing the end of lunch, preparing to go to his last few classes of the day.

He got to his sixth-period class, and Phil was one of his classmates in that class. Their teacher gave them another lecture and told them that tomorrow they would be paired up for a project that they'd have to do.

Dan always hated projects like these, he was the one who did all of the work for the person to still get full credit for it when they did nothing to help. This was something that he was going to have to mentally prepare for all night, doing a whole project by himself that was probably going to be due at the end of the week on top of whatever other bullshit the teachers gave him.

By the end of that class period, he decided that Phil was too innocent to be in this school with these people. He was a grade ahead of Dan, taking some classes that he didn't take at his old school so he could get caught up and graduate.

When Dan got out of class, he was heading to his locker when someone stopped him.

Dan turned around to see that it was Phil, who might as well be called plant boy, standing in front of him.

"Hi- sorry, do you know where the health room is?" Phil nervously asked.

"Yeah, it's down the hall third door on your right." Dan thought he might as well be nice to him, he didn't seem like a complete dick.

After stopping at his locker; he made his way to his last class of the day, which was math. This was the only class that he had with Chris and Louise.

He saw them as soon as he stepped foot into the classroom. They were lucky enough to be able to sit by each other because they never would talk when the teacher was trying to talk.

They got yet another lecture, he was sick of them after the first two he got at the start of the day. He knew enough about the rules to not have to hear this for the seventh time that day.

When they finally got dismissed from class, he talked to Chris, Pj, Louise, and Cat for a little bit before waving his goodbyes and saying that he'd see them tomorrow. Dan then began his walk home. This was the time when he could breathe and think about everything that had gone on in school the previous few hours.

-

He finally got home, looking out of the window for a bit before starting on his homework that he had to do for the night. When he was looking out of his window, he saw that plant boy was walking into the house next door. So, they were neighbours, he knew that the house was for sale but didn't expect for anyone with kids around Dan's age to move into it.

This was going to be a fun few months, Dan thought. From that second on, it became Dan's task to avoid Phil as much as he could.

He sent a message in the group chat that he and his friends were in, 'You will never believe who my new neighbour is,'

'omg who is it?' Chis replied.

'You know plant boy or whatever his name is?'

'... You can't be serious'

'I, unfortunately, am being serious,'

Dan fell onto his bed, he knew that he had to get up in a little bit and do some of his homework, but the realisation that this boy is his neighbour for some reason scared him more than anything.

His mother came up, telling him that the food was ready. After eating, he went back upstairs and started on his hours of homework that he had to do. This was something that he was sadly used to, being in advanced classes was the worst at times.

Dan put some music on and started right away on his work. After about three hours he finally finished it and decided that it was time for him to get some sleep.

He looked out of the window for a little bit, looking at the stars and the moon. This was one of the things that really interested him, space. Everyone knew that he was like a genius when it came to be anything space-related.

These types of things normally relaxed him, taking his mind off of the world and everything going on around him. He could sit and just relax, not have to worry about homework or people at school.

He then finally laid down and went to sleep after a few hours of twisting and turning, even if he seemed like he was always hyper and had enough sleep, most of the time he never got enough sleep unless he was on break. Dan was always studying and trying to figure out his life, that's why on break he didn't want to see anyone for a few days. Needing the time to mentally recover from everything.

-

It was the next day, getting up and doing the same thing that morning as he did the last. Today he was finding out who his partner was for the project, Dan could only hope for someone who would actually help him work on it rather than sit around and do literally none of it.

He got to school and went on with his day as normal. What was unusual is, he saw Phil staring at him whenever he got the chance. It wasn't like they had many classes together, but whenever they passed by each other or saw each other in the halls he always caught him staring.

Dan found it rather intimidating, he wasn't gay. He wouldn't understand why anyone who is anything but straight would like him, a heterosexual, boy.

Even if Dan was gay no one would know that, but he's not. He had a record for sleeping around with girls before his ex-girlfriend. There were a few boys that he found kind of cute, but no one that he would date or sleep around with.

Although there was nothing wrong with being gay, he really didn't want Phil to be staring at him the way he did.

Phil just looked kind of.. soft. Dan knew that he was going to be screwed over for the rest of the school year, and he was going to have to talk to someone about it. For all of his upper elementary and middle school years he was always called "gay" and "fag," This was something that he was glad that changed when he moved schools at the start of high school.

He knew the person he could go to is Louise, she was always like a sibling or mother to him, and she always knew how to handle these types of situations. Dan messaged her to meet up at lunch, somewhere they wouldn't be overheard.

-

At lunch Dan was so happy to see Louise, this was something that was eating at him since he saw Phil the day prior.

Plus, it wasn't even like he knew Phil that well, he could be a serial killer for all he knew. He really just wanted to be friends with him, nothing else, that was something that he was positive of.

"What's wrong? You seem worried about something," Louise asked Dan when she saw him.

"We have to go somewhere else to talk about this, I'm not talking about it where other people can hear,"

They walk outside, to the side of the building where no one goes to. This is a place that they agreed would be the safest.

"I don't know what these feelings are," Dan sighed, starting to explaining everything. "It's almost like I want to smile every time I see this plant boy, and there's always this weird feeling in my stomach?"

"Dan, could you possibly have a crush on him?"

"No," Dan said, anger starting to boil up. "There's no way because I'm not gay," He knew that he shouldn't lash out at Louise, she's always so supportive of him and helps with anything she can.

"Alright, do you think you want to try and get to know him a bit better, and maybe be his friend?"

Dan nodded, "I think that might be for the best."

They went back inside before the lunch period ended to find Pj, Chris, and Cat at the table they normally sat at.

"Where were you two? We thought you were skipping the rest of the school day or something." Cat said, concern filling her voice.

Dan looked over at Louise and back at Cat, "We had to talk about something, I was having a bit of a crisis as usual."

She nodded, "Right," She didn't want to take that as an excuse, but she didn't want to bother him over it.

-

The next period was the one he had with Phil, and the one he was getting assigned partners with for a project.

"Right, so I've picked your partners for you." The teacher began to speak, most of the time Dan would ignore her but he didn't want to be paired up with some rude kid this time.

The last time he was paired up with someone he had to do all of the work himself and the kid never even showed up to help with any of it.

"Phil, you're paired up with Dan," He heard and looked over at Phil. Great, this next week or two was going to be wonderful for Dan.

Even if he wanted to get to know Phil, he didn't want it to be because they had to do some stupid project together. Plus, when it came to school work, Dan was an overachiever. Always wanting everything to go his way and he wanted everything to be perfect.

After the class ended, Phil found Dan and they started to plan out when they wanted to start on it.

"Right, here's my mobile number we can figure out times to do it after school or whenever if you want." Phil softly said to Dan.

Dan nodded and walked on to his next class, trying to get Phil out of his mind. He was straight for god's sake, for all he knew Phil could want to kill him.

[writehardwhumpharder]

Spider-Man/Peter Parker Hurtfic

I’m not sure what this is but I wanted to write a little something about Peter getting super hurt as Spider-Man then having to pretend he’s okay because he can’t exactly tell people that he, as Peter Parker, got hurt while swinging around New York.

The age-old struggle for superheroes has always been having two identities. For Peter that meant being an average 15-year-old boy who goes to high school and gets teased for being a nerd every day, then at night being Spider-Man who goes on patrols, fights criminals, and hangs out with the avengers. And he liked being able to be both, but sometimes it wasn’t so easy to keep them apart… Like today for example. 

Last night he went out as Spider-Man, sure he missed out on a couple precious hours of sleep, but he did stop a couple muggings and gave a woman directions. What he didn’t plan for though was that nasty spill he took on his way home. The web hit the exact spot on the skyscraper he was aiming for, but the strand was a little too long. Leaving him to be dragged across the pavement at who knows what speed, tumbling about 20 feet down the sidewalk. He’d gotten beaten up plenty of times but man was that landing rough. A fall like that would probably kill most people, and the thought scared him. Peter tried to let go at the last second, causing his head to smack the ground as well as his shoulders, back, arms, and legs as he rolled. He would heal, but not before his body turned into one big bruise.

Peter walked the rest of the way home, dragging his right leg in a limp. Is this the superhero walk of shame? It certainly felt like it. His heart was pounding with the adrenaline of a near-death experience, but knew from experience that he wouldn’t feel the full extent of his injuries until it wore off. He actually walked up the stairs of the fire escape like a normal person instead of climbing up the wall. He would have preferred going in through the main door but May still didn’t know about Spider-Man, and if he was going to keep his two lives separate, it had to stay that way. He winced as he folded himself to fit through the window, careful not to lose his balance and wake up May. It was already past 1am so he stepped out of his suit, kicked it under his bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.

May grabbed Peter’s shoulder to wake him up like she did most mornings, he had an alarm clock but the teen could sleep through all three alarms easily. So May had to make sure he was up in time for school.

“Time to get up.” She said, shaking his arm gently. Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sudden pain shooting through his arm. He inhaled sharply and Aunt May took a step back, equally surprised. “What’s wrong, Peter?” He tried to think of a believable explanation and came up with nothing.

“Uh.. you just startled me that’s all.” He croaked out, his voice still groggy from sleep.

“Okay…” She eyed him suspiciously. “You should really get more sleep.” She said, defaulting to what she said to him almost every school morning. To her credit, the dark circles under his eyes had only gotten worse since he took up his part time job defending the neighborhood. Peter dragged himself out of bed with the grace of an old man and shut his door so he could get a proper look at his injuries. He had a slight headache from hitting his head but was able to rule out a concussion. Just as he suspected, bruises covered his body, wrapping around his torso and marking each point of impact. He’d have to wear long sleeves and pants to cover it up but with the temperature dropping outside that wasn’t much of a concern. The bruises on his right knee and shin were visibly worse than the rest and standing on it sent bursts of pain through his leg. Most likely a hairline fracture. Peter sighed in anticipation of the rough day ahead of him. Once he was sure every injury was well covered and he managed a walk that mostly hid his limp, he slung on his backpack and headed for the door before May could see him.

After walking down the stairs of his apartment building his leg was on fire and he noticed his skin getting damp with sweat in response to the pain. It almost made him forget every other ache, including the pounding in his head. He gave swinging to school some serious consideration. It would be much faster and easier on his leg, but on the other hand, completely irresponsible, risky, and did I mention irresponsible?

Peter made it to the subway in a daze, lucky to snag an open seat which was unheard of at this time of day. Maybe it was more obvious than he thought, the amount of pain he was in. With any luck his injuries would be fully healed before the school day was over, and he was no stranger to hiding a few bumps and scrapes, but this was different. The more he walked on his slightly broken leg, the more it hurt, giving it no chance to heal.

By the time he’d hobbled to the school, there was no time to hang around his locker and chat with Ned so they met up in the hallway and went straight to their first class, which this semester was P.E. Oh god. He completely forgot that instead of going to Mrs. Drake’s English class he had to go to gym. This day could not possibly get worse. Luckily he could exercise in the sweatpants he wore to school but the uniform T-shirt wouldn’t do much to hide the bruises on his arms. Just suck it up Peter, he told himself, with his added strength and agility maybe he could make it look like he was putting more effort in than he was. Ned was excitedly telling him about the Spider-Man sightings he heard about on he news again.

“I scan’t believe my best friend is Spider-Man!” He whispered with excitement. “Wait a second… are you limping?” His brows furrowed in concern.

“It’s nothing.” Peter deflected casually as they walked into the locker rooms.

“If it’s nothing then why are you going to the stalls to change?” Ned questioned. Peter lifted up the corner of his shirt to reveal just one of many purple and yellow bruises covering his side. Ned gasped.

“Just be quiet okay, you’re gonna blow my secret.” Peter urged, limping over to the bathroom stalls with his backpack. His gym shirt wasn’t too clean but he’d forgotten to bring anything else. There was no way people wouldn’t notice how banged up his arms are, but the bruises were already starting to fade as he healed. The fracture not so much. He rolled up his pant leg with a hiss as the fabric scraped over his knee. It looked worse than this morning if that is even possible. When the process of changing his shirt left him breathing heavily from the sheer agony of moving his arms he gave up on his plan of actually participating. Peter would have to tell the gym teacher his asthma was acting up and sit on the bleachers, most likely filling out some kind of worksheet on health and fitness.

“Mr. Murphy? I think I should take it easy today. My asthma has been really bad lately. My Aunt gave the school a note about it, if-“ Peter rambled to his gym teacher.

“Alright Parker, you know where the alternative assignment is, take a seat on the bleachers.” His teacher said before jogging to address the rest of the class. Liz and a few other girls were already on the bleachers talking. He wondered what their excuse was for sitting out P.E. but he figured it was something along the lines of “girl troubles”. He made sure to sit a few rows away from them but his enhanced hearing let him listen to their entire conversation.

The teacher blew the whistle and everyone hustled to get on opposite sides of the gym. Dodgeball, thank god he was missing that. Ned looked up at him sadly, making Peter feel a little guilty. But his leg was broken for god’s sake, he had every right to sit out. With nothing better to do he got started on the assignment labeling bones and muscles on a diagram as well as answering a multiple choice section on how much exercise a person should get in a day. He actually got a little absorbed in his work. After numerous times of having to patch himself up he had become somewhat of an expert in this area. Even sitting down, the ache in muscles and pain in his leg were pretty distracting, which might be why he didn’t notice the ball flying towards him.

Flash picked up one of the many balls rolling around the floor and thought it would be funny to throw one at Peter when the gym teacher wasn’t looking. He threw the ball as hard as he could toward the bleachers, aiming for his upper half, but it fell a little short and made direct contact with his right knee. Peter saw it coming just before it hit but nothing could prepare him for the feeling when the ball smacked into his fractured leg and bounced off, rolling down the steps of the bleachers. Peter did all he could to not cry out in pain. He inhaled sharply, his lungs seizing up as a wave of white-hot agony spread up his leg and throughout his body. He fell off the seat and crumpled into himself, both trying to clutch his knee and not touch it at the same time. His breaths were coming in short and quick, leaving him gasping for air.

“What the hell Peter it was just one ball, you can drop the act.” Flash said but his words lacked the confidence they usually had. It was just one ball, it should have been a mild annoyance to him, but that one small hit was enough to send Peter over the edge. It was getting hard to think and he was pretty sure he’d black out any second now. As Spider-Man he’d endured worse but that was with the added protection of the suit and adrenaline to keep him going.

Peter was mildly aware of people moving around him. Liz being the closest to him got there first. By now his whole body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his face had gone pale like every ounce of blood in his body was rushing towards his injuries. Liz tried to get his attention by grasping his forearm and leaning into his field of vision. She could feel the way he trembled beneath her hand as he looked back at her with unfocused eyes.

“Somebody get help!” She screamed. Everyone in the gym had long-stopped what they were doing. Leaving thirty-some kids standing awkwardly waiting for something to happen. Her words were enough to snap him back to reality.

“No!” He said through clenched teeth. “I’m fine.” Peter looked her straight in the eyes with a new sense of urgency. Clearly he wasn’t alright but Liz found herself taking a step back anyway so that he could drag himself back up to a sitting position. It took all the will he had to power through the pain and use his bruised, aching muscles to push himself up. Ned ran to join him on the bleachers.

“He’s okay.” Ned called back. “False alarm, you don’t need to get anybody.” Ned knew damn well that his friend was far from okay but Peter didn’t have an explanation for his injuries that didn’t reveal his second identity as Spider-Man. Peter managed a thumbs up in confirmation and the gym teacher, with some hesitation, resumed class.

“You okay?” Ned whispered to him once they were no longer the center of attention. Peter shook his head weakly. If he was going to make it through the day he needed to confide in his friend.

“Remember earlier when I said my limp was nothing?” Peter asked. “Well… I think my right leg is maybe, just a tiny bit broken, just a fracture… it’ll heal.” He said. Ned’s eyes widened in shock. “Occupational hazard, bro. Superheroes get banged up sometimes.” Peter tried to sound casual. Despite Ned’s concern he smiled at this.

“I still can’t believe my best friend is Spider-Man.”

[ranwing]

Kadam Fic: Learning to Fly (7/?)

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

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

On AOE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, he hoped that it did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam? Is that you?” he gasped.

Sam’s familiar wide smile came into focus. “Hi Kurt,” he greeted happily. “Bet you’re surprised.”

Kurt nodded, his eyes wide with shock. “You could say that,” he admitted. “How did this happen?”

Sam cocked his head towards the other boys, who sat behind him laughing at Kurt’s reaction. “Well, I’ve been keeping in touch with these bozos and they called me up one day that their boss was looking for more workers and if I was interested in a change of scenery. So, I flew down to Texas last week and the rest is history.”

Finn leaned forward, throwing an arm around Sam’s broad’s shoulders. “It’s really cool,” he told his stepbrother happily. “It’s kind of like us having our own New Directions offshoot down here. All we need is a bassist and we’ll have a proper band.”

Kurt looked at their smiling faces and felt a sense of relief for them. “That’s great,” he stated. “I’m so glad that it’s working out for the three of you.”

Puck gave Finn a playful nudge. “And tell him about Jane,” he urged.

That sparked Kurt’s curiosity. “Jane? Who’s Jane.”

Finn began to blush so deeply that Kurt could see it over his computer, and that got some teasing laughter from the other boys. “I… I kind of started seeing someone,” he confided shyly.

Kurt’s smile widened. “Oh? Tell me more…,” he urged.

“She’s a student over at the university, studying to be a social worker,” he explained. “I met her at this bar where she works as a waitress and we started talking. You’d like her…. She’s really cute and smart and…” His voice trailed off and he started blushing again.

Kurt remembered how moony he’d been when he first met Adam and fully understood what Finn was feeling. “She’s sounds nice,” he agreed. This was the first girl that Finn seemed to be really interested in since his break up with Rachel and Kurt grasped just how big a deal it was for him. It was the last step in Finn moving on.

His phone began to ring for his attention and Kurt quickly checked to see who it was. “Oh, I’ve got Adam trying to call me,” he explained. “Gotta go.”

Finn nodded understandingly. “Okay… say hi to him for us,” he urged.

“I’ll talk to you guys soon,” Kurt promised. “Sam, you keep those two out of trouble!”

“I will,” Sam assured him. “Talk to you soon.”

“Bye Kurt!” Puck chimed in before Finn ended the connection.

Kurt shook his head in amusement at their antics before answering his phone. “Hi sweetie!” he greeted happily, putting his laptop aside.

“Hello darling,” Adam answered and Kurt could all but hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, I miss you!”

“It’s only been two days,” Kurt reminded him, though he wasn’t going to protest as he missed Adam just as much.

“I know,” Adam acquiesced. “But I still miss you.”

Kurt felt his eyes start to water from the emotions that he’d been pushing down all day. “I miss you too,” he confessed. “But you look like you’re having fun.”

Adam laughed a bit. “We had most of the day to ourselves so we did a bit of sightseeing about the city,” he explained. “We visited the Freedom Trail and Independence Hall… I’ll tell you, love, that there seems to be a bit of anti-British bias in all this.”

Kurt chuckled in amusement at the playfully hurt tone in his lover’s voice. “Imagine that,” he teased.

Adam sighed a bit dramatically. “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected,” he granted. “Admittedly this part of history gets a bit glossed over in school across the pond.”

“I assume that it would be,” Kurt laughed. “So, tell me everything. What do they have planned for all of you?”

He could hear Adam settling down more comfortably on the other end. “The hotel is quite nice and I’m rooming with Nialls. Apparently, the others decided that us ‘old marrieds’ should bunk together, but that’s fine. He and I get along well enough. Oh, and we saw the theater this morning and it’s huge! I’ve never performed in a venue this large before.”

“That’s so exciting,” Kurt said happily. “That sounds like it’s going to be amazing. Now what kind of schedule do they have for you?”

“Tomorrow we have a cast and crew meeting that’s probably going to take up a lot of the day,” Adam explained. “And in the afternoon, there’s a meet and greet with the local press so you’ll probably see some things in the next few days before our opening.

“Then we go right into tech and our final dress rehearsals before our opening night,” Adam sighed. “The producers have already warned that most of our run in Boston is selling out. It’s a bit intimidating.”

Kurt wished that he could reach through the phone and wrap his arms about the older man. It broke his heart that Adam was facing such a huge step in his career and that he wasn’t there to support him in person. He knew that Adam was capable of meeting this challenge and that he would be wildly successful, but he wanted to be at his lover’s side to encourage him.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” Kurt insisted. “You are going to be so amazing and everyone is going to see what I see in you. You deserve this so much.”

Adam didn’t answer for moment and Kurt thought that he could hear the older man sniffling. “Thank you, darling. But I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for you,” he insisted. “You’ve been so generous in encouraging me, even when it caused difficulty for you. I owe you so much…”

“Hush,” Kurt admonished gently, feeling his heart swell for this wonderful, gentle man. Adam had been so giving and supportive since the two of them first met that he couldn’t imagine not making the same effort for his lover’s benefit. “I’m fine and the next few months are going to go by so quickly for the both of us. Before we know it, your tour will be done and you’ll be back in New York with me.

“And you’ll be the big star that everyone will the clamoring to hire for their shows,” Kurt claimed. “It’ll be worth all the hard work in the end.”

“I hope so,” Adam sighed.

“It will be,” Kurt insisted gently, sensing that Adam needed a bit of metaphysical hand-holding.

He heard Adam huff a bit, as if trying to regain his composure. “Tell me what you’ve been doing, love,” he urged. “How are Burt and Carole?”

Kurt could see a deflection from a mile away but decided that it wasn’t worth pointing out. Adam was going to have to deal with his worries on his own for now. He didn’t want to start an argument right at the start of Adam’s trip.

They chatted quietly about the kind of small, unimportant things that they always discussed when together. Kurt listened to Adam’s amusing stories about the cast and updated him on his family’s antics. They laughed as they shared their stories, both of them wishing that they could be with their partner.

Kurt lay down on his bed and stretched out, cradling his phone against his cheek so he could hear Adam’s voice clearly. He closed his eyes as he listened to Adam regaling him to stories about a group of British expats on the wrong side of American patriotic exhibitions and feeling a bit on display to the other tourists.

“It was so absurd darling, but I thought that this flock of schoolchildren were actually going to demand that we personally apologize for the starting the war,” Adam laughed. “One little boy was eying me very angrily. I thought he was going to start kicking me.”

“You poor thing,” Kurt chuckled teasingly.

“Their teacher was most apologetic,” Adam reassured him. “She reminded her class that none of us had been born at the time and that we shouldn’t be held responsible for what Old King George did.

“Oh… and maybe you can clear up something for me,” he requested. “That bell… why didn’t anyone ever fix the crack? Because it’s looks so odd!”

Kurt just smiled, listening to Adam chatter about the things he’d seen and was content to let his boyfriend tell his stories. He kept his eyes closed so he could imagine that Adam was in the room with him and not several states away. And maybe if he waited long enough, he would feel Adam’s hand reaching out to touch his.

* * *

“See anything interesting?” Kurt asked as he thumbed through the racks of sheet music.

Tina shook her head. “Not really. I just don’t know what my teachers are going to be asking me to do,” she sighed.

The past few days of his vacation had gone quietly for Kurt as he’d settled into something of a routine. He would wake up early, have a cup of coffee and then go out for a quick run. He stopped by the garage a few times to help out, glad to have a chance to see the guys for a bit before he returned to New York and keep his mechanic skills up to snuff. He spent time with his father and preparing meals with Carole. He did some studying for school, rested a bit and talked with Adam every moment that Adam could steal away from his work.

To be honest, he was very much looking forward to getting back to school and what passed for normal in his life at this point. Being at loose ends was wearing on him and he wasn’t very good at coping with not having a hundred things to do at a time. He just wasn’t’ made for inactivity

He had been lazing in front of the television while his father and Carole were out for the day, feeling his brain cells dying one by one from too many hours of appalling stupid daytime television shows. Not sure if he could stand another moment of watching pathetic dramas about paternity claims, he was nearly delirious with gratitude when Tina had called to ask if he could join her at Between The Sheets to help choose some material for the upcoming semester.

Kurt looked at the stack that she’d picked, seeing that she had chosen an assortment of classic and contemporary musicals. “I think you’re off to a good start,” he consoled. “You’ve got a little of everything. Some of these are just perfect to showcase your voice.” And to push her a little out of her comfort zone, he added mentally.

She looked at the books and shrugged. “I guess,” she conceded. “I just wish that I knew myself as a performer a bit more. Rachel never had that problem.”

“That is not true,” he corrected. “Rachel thought that she did and learned the hard way that trying to copy he favorite performers wasn’t going to get her the career she wants. She’s trying to find herself just as much the rest of us are so don’t feel like you’re at a disadvantage. That’s what going to school is supposed to be about. Don’t be afraid to try new things.”

Tina looked over her selections, making sure that the music she had selected was in the key for her voice.  “Did you find anything for yourself?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t need any classic musicals and they don’t have too much contemporary for my range,” he admitted. There was a decided lack of anything written specifically for a countertenor’s range, so he was concentrating on traditional tenor material. “I’m going to check out some other stuff.”

While Tina continued her search in the musical theater section, Kurt moved to where the books for other musical genres were kept. Working with the Apples had expanded his comfort zone and he wanted to utilize that more unorthodox material in his voice work in class to help him stand out from the other students. He pulled out a book of Gilbert and Sullivan operettas that looked promising and began to thumb through it. He’d like to be able to surprise his voice teachers with some unorthodox material.

“Kurt?”

He felt himself freeze at the tentative greeting, his shoulders instinctively stiffening. Taking a breath to maintain his calm, Kurt turned to find his ex-boyfriend standing too close for his comfort.

“Blaine,” he said with cool indifference, pleased that he was able to keep any anger out of his voice.

The shorter man gave Kurt a tentative smile. “Hi. I wasn’t sure if I would see you while I was in town,” he said carefully. “I’m home on winter break.”

Kurt nodded. “Dad’s home on winter recess from Congress so I thought I’d spend a little time with him before classes start.”

“That’s nice,” Blaine responded, still clearly trying to gage Kurt’s reactions.

Kurt looked Blaine over, seeing that his olive complexion was darker from the California sun and that he still had the tendency to dress like a color-blind geriatric. And he felt…. He was surprised that he felt nothing. No real anger or frustration or lingering affection. Just a bit of annoyance at being bothered when he had things to do.

It was as if he was looking at a stranger that he had no past or present contact with.

“Is… is your boyfriend with you?” Blaine asked carefully, obviously putting out feelers over Kurt’s current relationship status.

Kurt snorted, not surprised that Blaine either couldn’t be bothered to remember Adam’s name or couldn’t bring himself to actually use it.

“No, Adam is out of town right now on a job. He got cast in a play that’s doing a national tour,” he proclaimed proudly. “And yes, he and I are still together. Just in case you were wondering.”

“No! I mean…. That wasn’t…,” Blaine stammered, clearly caught off guard by Kurt’s blunt assessment of his motives. His cheeks began to burn red. “I just saw you and stopped to say hi. Nothing more, I swear.”

Kurt shrugged, honestly not caring what Blaine’s motives were. “Sam said that you’re going to school in California,” Kurt said indifferently, as if he was making polite party conversation. He eyed Blaine’s gelled helmet of a hairstyle and wondered what the hell he’d ever seen in his former boyfriend.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tina notice the unwanted intrusion on Kurt’s personal space and gave him a silent signal to see if he wanted her to step in. He shook his head, letting her know to keep her distance, aware that she didn’t want to be around Blaine any more than he did but he was grateful to see that she was ready to step in if needed.

Blaine seemed to brighten a bit at Kurt’s vague knowledge about his current activities, apparently mistaking neutral awareness for genuine interest. He still clearly lacked anything in the way of self-awareness, not realizing that the only real emotion Kurt felt was relief that Blaine was on the opposite side of the country and that he could avoid most of Blaine’s drama.

“Yeah, I’m living with Cooper while I go to UCLA,” he explained, displaying his usual pleasure in discussing anything revolving about himself. “It’s really amazing out there. I’m doing well there in my acting classes and am already being considered for television roles. I met an agent at one of Cooper’s parties and she’s convinced that she can get me a lead role.”

Somehow, Kurt doubted that, though he kept his opinion to himself. The boasting reminded him far too much of the way Rachel used to brag about her questionable achievements in a way to puff herself up when she wanted to impress others. And whether or not it was true, no longer mattered to him.

Kurt was surprised at the lack of anger and resentment he felt towards Blaine. He hadn’t forgotten what Blaine had done, but he realized that he had truly moved on. Blaine and his actions was no longer a factor in his life. The only emotion he felt was gladness that Blaine wasn’t in his life.

He felt himself nodding absently, offering the barest of compliments for whatever fortune Blaine was finding for himself without any emotional investment, good or bad. He didn’t wish any misfortune on Blaine, but he was thankful that that their lives were on completely separate tracks and would likely not be intersecting in anything other than the most superficial way ever again.

“Kurt, listen… It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Why don’t we go grab a cup of coffee? My treat,” Blaine offered, a bit desperately in Kurt’s opinion. “We can talk… catch up a little…”

Kurt just shook his head. “No thanks. I’ve got to get going,” Kurt pronounced, a trace of firmness in his voice that warned Blaine not to try to argue him into lingering.

“Oh, come on Kurt,” Blaine whined. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and…”

“I said no, Blaine,” Kurt said again, making the refusal as clear as possible since Blaine was determined to be obtuse. “Tina’s waiting for me, but good luck in L.A.”

Blaine’s expression fell at the realization that Kurt was so totally closed off to him. He could only nod in defeat and mutter, “It was good to see you, Kurt. I’ve missed you.”

Kurt didn’t say anything more, only gathering up his purchases to join Tina over by the cash register. She looked over to him with gentle concern while the cashier bagged up her purchases. “You okay?” she asked. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to cut in, but you seemed to be handling him.”

Kurt smiled brightly, openly displaying the emotions that he refused to with Blaine. “Oh, definitely,” he assured her. “Let me just pay for my stuff and we can go grab lunch. There’s a burger joint that opened up that the guys in the garage said is really amazing.”

“Sounds good,” she chirped, accepting the shopping bag with her music.

Neither of the bothered to look behind them to see Blaine’s longing stare, the final realization of just how much he’d lost evident on his face.

* * *

The moment Kurt and Tina walked into Brew & Que, Kurt knew that his father’s employees had it right. The smells coming out of the restaurant kitchen were amazing and Kurt found himself liking the casual atmosphere. The restaurant had been designed to look like a roadhouse, but it was clean and the staff appeared to be friendly.

Tina picked up the menu and looked it over. “Well, there goes my diet,” she laughed when she looked at all the choices. “This all looks so good.”

“You don’t need to diet,” Kurt assured her honestly as he looked over the options. He could see why the guys at the garage liked this place so much, as the overwhelming majority of the menu was meat-based and there didn’t seem to be a low-calorie option in sight. Well, there was a salad but given how woefully out of place it looked on the menu, Kurt decided that it probably wasn’t the best offering.

Once they gave the smiling waitress their orders, Tina settled back in her seat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “I know that Blaine can be a pill and he didn’t look like he wanted to take ‘fuck off’ for an answer.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing at his friend’s words. He was so glad that they had reconciled and that he had given her the chance to regain his trust. “I’m starting to think that I’m never going to totally shake him,” he sighed dramatically. “I could be celebrating my ten-year anniversary and I’ll have him showing up, trying to serenade me with Katy Perry. I really wish that he’d meet someone else so he’ll forget about me.”

Tina smiled gently. “You are kind of unforgettable,” she advised. “And I know what it’s like to be hung up on an ex longer than is healthy.”

Kurt’s gaze softened. He hadn’t been around when Tina was dealing with the aftermath of her breakup with Mike, but he had been on the receiving end of some of her poor behavior. He was glad that she woke up and recognized what she’d been doing and only hurting herself before it was too late.

“So, tell me more about your classes,” he urged, changing the conversation to something more pleasant. He didn’t want to discuss Blaine any further.

He let Tina ramble on about her teachers and classmates while they waited for their lunch, giving her his full attention. On some things, NYU didn’t seem all that different than NYADA. Demanding teachers, challenging classes and competitive classmates. Tina was faced with the same challenges that he and Rachel faced; figuring out how to stand out in a school filled with talented students while developing her own unique gifts as a performer.

“Are you taking any dance classes this year?” Kurt asked, sipping at his iced tea. “You should do well in that.”

She nodded. “Dance, voice and acting,” she confirmed. “I’m going to have a pretty full schedule.”

“How are your teachers?”

Tina couldn’t help wincing. “Tough,” she sighed.

“That’s good,” he assured her. “I know that it doesn’t feel like it at times, but the tougher they are, the better a performer you’re going to become. The key is to learn to take criticism and use it to grow. Not let it demoralize you.

“You know, you can always talk to Elliot if you’re feeling a little overwhelmed,” he reminded her. “He’s still at NYU, and I’m sure he’d be glad to help.”

Tina smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “There are times when I envy you and Rachel being able to support one another at school. I feel kind of on my own.”

“Well, you’re not,” Kurt promised. “Just because I’m at NYADA doesn’t mean that I can’t be there if you need me. NYU isn’t that far away.”

Tina couldn’t resist reaching out to grasp his hand in gratitude. “Thank you, Kurt,” she said earnestly. “I’m so glad that we’re still friends. Especially after how I treated you. I was such a jerk, and…”

“Shush. It’s fine,” Kurt insisted gently. “We went through a rough patch, but we’re good now.”

And they were. Kurt recognized what a dark place Tina had been in and that Blaine had taken advantage of her vulnerability, playing with her feelings in order to make himself feel better about his lot in life. Holding a grudge would not do either one of them any good. And it would give Blaine a win by letting him destroy a friendship that Kurt had cherished. He was sure that Blaine must have been annoyed to see Tina with him and not willing to give him even a word of greeting.

He probably should feel a trace of sympathy for his ex. After all, he was the one exiled to the other end of the country with none of his old friends to support him, but Kurt didn’t have quite that much nobility in him. There was just enough vindictive pettiness within him to take a rare bit of pleasure in Blaine’s misfortune.

“Kurt Hummel! Is that you?”

Kurt looked up in surprise at the familiar voice calling his name and grinned when he saw Dave Karofsky approaching their table with a huge grin on his face.

“Oh my God,” Kurt exclaimed happily, letting the bigger man sweep him up into a hug. “How long has it been?”

“Too long,” Dave admitted, letting Kurt find his feet again. He looked Kurt over from head to toe. “Wow…. You look fantastic.”

“Thanks! So do you.” And Dave did look good, in Kurt’s opinion. He was still a big, brawny young man but he was solid muscle underneath his snug fitting shirt. But what made him good looking was the brightness of his brown eyes and the open smile that contained none of the anger that had so marked him back in high school.

“You remember Tina, right?” Kurt asked, motioning to his table-mate.

Dave nodded animatedly, offering her a warm smile. “It’s good to see you,” he greeted sincerely.

“So how are things at OSU?” Kurt asked curiously.

“Good… good,” Dave confirmed. “It’s been great there.”

“You still majoring in sports business?”

Before Dave could answer, a tall young man approached him with a warm smile. “Hey, I paid the check. Are you ready to go?”

Dave’s eyes softened at the other man’s approach. “Hey, come here… I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Taylor, this is Kurt… from my high school.”

He looked to Kurt, with a gentle smile on his face. “This is Taylor. My boyfriend.”

Kurt’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly remembered his manners and moved to shake the other man’s hand in greeting. “Hi! This is… wow… It is so good to meet you.”

Dave’s boyfriend was a good looking young man with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to glimmer with spirit. He appeared to be about Kurt’s and Dave’s age and was dressed neatly in a pair of dark wash jeans and a soft knit sweater that clung to surprisingly broad shoulders.

And it didn’t miss Kurt’s attention that Taylor bore more than a fleeting resemblance to himself, and he turned a teasing arched eyebrow to the larger man. Dave just gave a small shrug, as if to say, “Hey, I’ve got a type.”

Taylor seemed just as surprised at the unexpected introduction. “So, you’re the Kurt he’s always talking about,” he laughed. “Dave was always going on about you and how I reminded him of you a bit so I feel like I probably already know you.”

Kurt felt his cheeks warm. He probably shouldn’t be too surprised that Dave apparently still regarded him so strongly.

Dave placed his arm about Taylor’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Taylor’s also a student at OSU. We met when he came to see a rugby game that I was playing in.”

The other boy laughed brightly. “I was actually there to cheer on my cousin when I saw Dave. He was totally adorable pushing around the other guys and totally kicking butt.”

Dave blushed at his boyfriend’s compliments and Kurt noticed the way the slimmer man leaned in to nuzzle teasingly under Dave’s jaw. To see Dave so easily accepting physical affection warmed Kurt’s heart because he knew just how fearful Dave had been when he was younger. It was gratifying to see just how far Dave had come. And if he had any worries that Dave’s attraction to Taylor was because of any resemblance to Kurt, the genuine affection between the two of them put his mind at least. Dave clearly liked his boyfriend for himself and not any lingering torch he might have carried.

“You’re home visiting your folks?” Kurt asked. Dave looked so happy and he hoped that everything was well with his family.

“Yup,” the larger man confirmed. “I wanted them to meet Taylor since we’ve been together for a while. Dad’s just happy that I’m happy, and Mom… she’s learning to deal.”

Kurt nodded sympathetically, knowing that Mrs. Karofsky was still learning to accept that her son was gay. Still, it sounded like she was trying, which was a lot better than the outright rejection Dave had experienced when he was first outed.

“We’re going up to Dayton to spend a few days with Taylor’s family before we head back to school,” Dave explained. “This is kind of the ‘meet the mutual folks’ tour.”

“And they’re gonna love you,” Taylor insisted.

“So, what are you doing in Lima?” Dave asked. “I would think you’d have to be pried out of New York with a crowbar.”

He turned to his boyfriend and explained, “This guy is at the best singer you ever heard. He got into this super-elite theater school. It’s like the best in the country.”

Tina couldn’t help from laughing at Dave’s effusive praise of her friend. “Careful Kurofsky, or you’re going to make your boyfriend jealous,” she teased.

“You’re mine, big guy,” Taylor reminded his boyfriend possessively. “And I don’t share, so don’t forget it.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to do that,” Dave agreed, giving Taylor an affectionate glance. “We already saw what happens if he thinks that someone is poaching.”

Kurt found himself liking Dave’s guy, if only for the fact that he seemed completely head over heels for his former classmate.

Dave gave Kurt a rueful grin. “We were at Scandals the other night and ran into your ex,” he admitted. “Taylor was in the bathroom and Blaine… Well, he started hitting on me.”

He paused, gaging Kurt’s reaction to that bit of news but Kurt just sighed.

“I’m not surprised, to be honest,” Kurt said evenly. “That’s a primary reason why he’s my ex. Was he drunk?”

Dave nodded. “He’d definitely been drinking. And he was really pushy. He kept going on about… well, about what happened back in high school and that I could do so much better.”

Kurt couldn’t help from wincing. After the way Blaine had behaved at the music store, he was left wondering if Blaine had any real feelings at all besides his own immediate gratification. Trying to use Dave’s old crush to entice him seemed to be just the kind of childish pettiness that was up Blaine’s alley. And trying to use Dave to get back at Kurt for rejecting him really ticked him off.

“Anyway, this one,” Dave continued, giving his boyfriend a playful nudge.  “He comes out of the bathroom and…”

“I see this badly dressed, drunk creep all over my boyfriend and I told him that if he didn’t remove his hands from my man, then I was going to rip his arms off and beat him over his greasy head with them.”

Taylor laughed wickedly. “You never saw someone back pedal so fast in your life!”

“And he would have done it!” Dave insisted, giving Taylor and affectionate look. Having someone that looked like him being treated with such possessiveness was more than a little satisfying.

Looking at Taylor’s hands, Kurt had to agree with Dave’s assessment. They were surprisingly strong-looking, with unexpected calluses on the fingers and palms that hinted at a lot of hard physical activity. The young man’s forearms were corded with powerful muscle and sinew. Paired with those strong shoulders, there was a lot of upper body strength there. Taylor looked like he could probably lift Dave without too much effort.

Dave couldn’t resist leaning close to Kurt and whispering confidingly, “He’s on the gymnastics team.”

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

Dave nodded, looking very pleased with himself. “He’s super bendy.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing. He was genuinely happy for Dave, glad that he was finally in a good place and seemed really content with his life. That was all Kurt could have ever wanted for him.

“Are you still seeing that guy you met at school?” Dave asked curiously.

Kurt nodded and got out his phone. “Yup. Adam’s working on a national tour right now, but we’re still together.”

“They’re disgustingly in love,” Tina inserted, giving her friend an affectionate smile.

Kurt pulled up a photo of the two of them from Thanksgiving and showed it to Dave and Taylor.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Taylor cooed admiringly. He looked to Kurt and nodded in approval. “Very nice.”

Kurt smiled proudly. “We know how to pick the good ones,” he informed Taylor, causing Dave to blush.

And Dave was a good guy to Kurt. He’d come so far from the fearful, bullying boy he’d been and was now a man who was confident and open about who and what he was. It was wonderful to see.

When the waitress returned with Kurt’s and Tina’s lunch, Dave stepped back. “It was great to see the both of you, but we’d better get going,” he said graciously. “I promised my dad that we’d spend the afternoon with him.”

Kurt nodded, turning to shake Taylor’s hand again. “It was really great meeting you,” he insisted sincerely. “Take good care of the big guy here.”

Taylor nodded. “I will. Good luck back in New York.”

Kurt smiled appreciatively, glad to see that Dave had found himself a really good guy. He turned to give Dave a hug. “Take care of yourself,” he urged. “And let’s make sure that we keep in touch more.”

“You got it,” Dave confirmed. He glanced over to Tina and gave her a friendly wave. “It was nice to see you, Tina.”

She smiled back. “You too!”

Once the two men left, Dave’s arm casually thrown around the other man’s shoulders to keep him close, Kurt and Tina sat down to enjoy their lunch. Tina picked up a french fry and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“It’s funny,” she mused. “Some people change so much and others… they don’t really change at all. Do they?”

Kurt knew that Tina was talking about Blaine and sad realization that the behaviors he’d been displaying of late were his true colors showing through. And that he probably had been showing for a very long time. And that it hurt to have loved and trusted someone who clearly had been so unworthy of that consideration.

And he wasn’t the same person that he’d been when he first left Lima. He was discovering strengths and desires that he’d barely begun to tap. He could see the boy he’d been when his father first put him on a plane for New York and the man who had returned for a brief visit.

All they could do was take what they had learned from the experience and move on. Kurt took a bite from his burger and took a moment to savor the taste, putting Blaine from his mind. He had so much to look forward to in life and it was something of relief that his old relationship no longer haunted him quite so strongly.

Blaine, like Lima itself, could hold him back only if he permitted them to. And he had long since made the decision that they wouldn’t.

He had dreams to follow and Blaine had long since ceased to be a part of them.

* * *

The last days of Kurt’s visit home were pleasant and easy ones. He allowed Carole to mother him, and spent quiet hours with her and his father to reconnect. He rested and prepared for his upcoming classes and rehearsals. He hung around with his friends who were in town. And he spoke with Adam every moment that his boyfriend could spare during his tech preparations.

Still, he would be lying if he tried to claim that he wasn’t glad to be returning to New York. Back where he really belonged.

He nearly went back to the apartment that he’d shared with Adam, only recognizing after he stepped onto the subway with his luggage in tow that he couldn’t go back there again. A change of trains brought him to NYADA, which would now be his base of operations in all things

His room in the dorms was stark and bare, the only amenities being the bed, dresser and desk that had clearly seen a lot of wear and tear since they were installed. The cinderblock wall behind his bed was painted a clean white, providing him with a blank canvas that he could transform into his own space. The boxes and bags containing his possessions sat on the floor, waiting to be unpacked.

Kurt sighed to himself, the realization of what the next few months would really entail finally hitting him. But there was no use in moping, not when he had things to do. Adam needed him to be strong enough to stand on his own two feet while the older man was away and the last thing that Kurt wanted to do was disappoint him. He needed to be able to do this for the both of them.

With quiet resolve, he took up the box cutter and opened up the first box. A framed photo of himself and Adam took a prominent spot on the desk where he would be able to see it from anywhere in the room. After that, the rest of things would fall into place.

[alisamaefawn394]

HELLO and do I have a tale for you. 

On Monday 11th January, my 89 year old nan moved to us from her care home that was RIDDLED with coronavirus. This was after she tested negative twice (a hospital test on the Friday, a test on her way back from a covid-free part of the hospital on that same Monday). That’s two negative tests, right, so naturally we thought she’d be fine to come and live with us. Perfect, fine, all well and good. and because I’m at high risk, we also assumed this would be fine with me which is why we checked twice. 

SKIP TO FRIDAY: My nan is coughing and being kind of sick and continually retching, exhausted and can’t get out of bed, can barely speak. The nurse that came to see her is instantly concerned, so she has a test done. for the next 48+ hours, things just keep getting worse: two sets of paramedics, countless carers and nurses. Then Sunday morning her test comes back positive. She’s seriously ill, and bear in mind she has acute bronchitis, asthma, and one functioning lung (the other is collapsed) so covid will be awful for her. 

The paramedics yesterday morning took her to hospital, hoping they’d admit her to a covid ward so that she could receive the necessary care. After a few hours in a+e, she’s told she’s being discharged. “She’s not ill enough to stay” they said to us, planning on discharging her to us. My parents hadn’t slept in 72 hours from caring for her day and night, we physically couldn’t cope with her coming home, they said they didn’t give a shit essentially and that we just had to cope.

After hours of battles with the hospital, social services, nursing homes, her care home, my uncles, LAWYERS, the care home owner said he wasn’t letting her back in. Ironic considering it was his home that gave her covid in the first place. He was contractually obligated to let her in though, within every law and clause, not to mention she’d payed her fees and he refused to pay her back. Then, the lead carer overrode his decision anyway and let her in after a multidisciplinary action hearing at the hospital where they unanimously agreed that with the circumstances (a weekend, not coping at our house, at risk young person, two teachers who are both stressed and ill and probably have covid too) she was to return to her care home. All well and good, she arrived there last night, albeit looking like a punchbag and a pin cushion, her hands and arms bright purple from their vicious attempts at getting needles into her. The lead carer is complaining. The good news is that she’s in her care home safely, and they should now have enough staff to care for her cine they’ve had 7+ deaths there in the past week from covid. Obviously not a good thing, but now they might now be short staffed and actually able to care for their residents. 

NOW onto the second part of the story. 

Friday, I felt fine. All well and good, I sat and did my work and my normal stuff. Then Saturday I woke up feeling awful, runny nose and cough and constant goosebumps and joint pain and lethargy and temperature changes and a worse cough than normal and a headache and jaw ache, and I felt SHIT. I had a bath and started to feel a bit better, but all of the upset didn’t work. This whole time my heart was going berserk. Sunday this eased a little, less goosebumps, less pain and all, but I had a sore-ish throat. We went to get tested after my nans came back positive. 

Now I have a hamartia, a one fatal flaw, and that is an unreasonable fear of dying in my sleep. Except with me: a heart condition, collagen defect, you name it else, it’s not so unreasonable. So with all of this covid fear, my heart going weird, struggling to breathe, I was so fearful I couldn’t sleep and I was just crying. I don’t know why. My mum eventually came in to my room and slept on the blow up bed. 

This morning I wake up to a missed call from the test and trace, a text and three emails. I’ve tested positive, my mum has too, while my dad is still negative. I’m coughing with a sore throat today, I’m a bit short of breath, and I can’t keep a constant temperature (not that I normally can) but I don’t have a fever. Thankfully, my conditions only meant I was at high risk of catching it in the first place, not of getting it really badly, so touch wood this fact remains and I stay with mild ish symptoms. My mum is just really tired and has a headache, but we aren’t sure if they’re covid related or just from exhaustion. Turns out I shouldn’t have been going to school all of last term, and I’m not surprised really with how easily I caught it: 3 days in contact with my nan who wasn’t even showing any symptoms for a while, and I’m knocked down from it. My lessons have all been cancelled, and I feel just generally shite. I have to isolate essentially until the end of the month. I’m just really scared of the knock this will give the rest of my already shit health. 

And yes, we are preparing to sue the care home owner for gross negligence. So that’s the current state of things. We also have two dogs we can’t leave the house to walk so this is fucking awful. Shit times. Praying that this passes. 

[toptaiga]

Trust Me

Not a request just wanted to write a series. Hope you like it.

Genre: Thriller AU

Word Count: 3127

Warnings: None for now

Pairing: None for now

Description:

Living every moment of your life in paranoia was the norm for Mingyu. He couldn’t help it. Maybe he was watching too many thriller movies with his roommate, Wonwoo. For as long as he can remember there was always a feeling of someone watching him. Brushing it off as much as possible, he continues his daily life as a sophomore in high school. Mingyu was quite a popular kid until he befriends a quiet, foreign student from Japan. Soshida Mayu was her name. She never really spoke much and she never needed to. With her petite, 5-foot frame; Mingyu towers over her like a bodyguard. Little did he know that he was the one being protected.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -Mingyu’s PoV-

As I quietly shuffle my feet against the cold carpet; I stopped to take a few seconds to breathe. Nervous, I stood in front a single white door. Slowly turning the doorknob, I push the door open as quiet as possible. Hearing the familiar snore in the room immediately puts me at ease. My muscles relax slightly before I enter the cozy bedroom, and shut the door behind me. Careful not to make any noise, I tiptoe to the side of the bed and gently poke at the sleeping figure.

“Wonwoo.. C-Can I sleep here tonight?” My question was immediately answered with a groan.

“You know you can’t do this every night right? We’re boys. It’s weird.” Wonwoo states with a hint of annoyance in his groggy voice.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t sleep again. I’m scared.”

“Gyu, what if I get a girlfriend and she spends the night. But that night you can’t sleep again. What are you going to do?”

“... I can sleep on the floor in here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please! School starts in five hours and i want to get at least three hours of sleep in!”

“Fine. But this is the last time Gyu, I swear to god.”

Ignoring his comment, I squish myself into the queen sized bed ned to the other. As I close my eyes, my mind fills with contentment and security.

It’s not long until the feeling disintegrates as the sunlight peeps through the blinds, waking me from my dreamless sleep.

-

Bolting up from Wonwoo’s bed, I take a moment to look around only to realise the alarm from my phone was going off. After swiping the screen for the alarm to stop I looked up to find Wonwoo already awake and dressed for class as he sits on his arm chair, reading a love novel in silence. I slid out of his bed and we went on with our usual morning routine. Wonwoo would stay with me in the bathroom as I took a shower because I always feared someone would come after me when I’m the most vulnerable. Then, I’d drag Wonwoo back to my room so that I could get dressed. He would have his back facing me as he waits with his hands in his pockets. I knew he hated it, but would he still dread it if he really knew how terrified of being alone I was? The feeling of panic and anxiousness buries me under a 2-ton bag of fear and it wasn’t something that could be understood so easily. To Wonwoo i looked like a simple crazy kid with too much imagination. He always said these thoughts are messing with my mind and body and that I should see somebody for my mental health. Whether he believes it or not, if it wasn’t for Wonwoo’s help I feel like I’d be a goner in this world. I’m thankful to have a friend like him but at the same time I feel bad that he basically acts as my caretaker.

I took a minute to look at my complexion in the mirror. The three hours of sleep really shows on my face as I let out a soft sigh. After dusting my sleeves off, I slung my backpack over my shoulders and patted Wonwoo’s back.

“I’m ready.” The other turned at the sound of my voice and nodded, leading the way out of the shared apartment complex. After locking the door behind us, I followed right behind Wonwoo,  almost a little too close for his comfort. I gently held onto the little IU keychain hanging from Wonwoo’s backpack without him knowing as we continue our journey to school. As we inch our way down the busy streets of Seoul I start to feel more anxious with every step I take. I instinctively turn my head from side to side. Occasionally I would look behind me, but I never saw anything abnormal. Eventually, I hung my head low as I stayed inches apart from Wonwoo.

Was I really just crazy? I’ve lived up until now, why am I so scared? I never did anything wrong… Did I? All my thoughts were just choking me that I didn’t even realize that I was on the verge of crying.

“Stop thinking about it.” The sound of Wonwoo’s voice pulls me from my thoughts temporarily as I nod gently to the command. I suck up my tears, not wanting to embarrass myself in public.

“Sorry… Can you walk with me to my homeroom Woo? I don’t think I could go by myself today.”

“Keep this up and people will start to think that we’re dating. Which we’re not.”

“Please Woo?”

“Stop with the nicknames in public and just go. You’re safe here. It’s all in your head.”

“But just-”

“Bye Mingyu.” Wonwoo interrupted my plead for help as he slapped my arm gently. I watched as he entered the school’s corridors. This time I really feel like the tears will spill. I took a hesitant step into school and looked around. Other students were happy, laughing, joking with each other and I’m standing here looking like a fool.

“Mingyu!” A high pitched voice came from down the hall. Frozen in my place, the owner of the voice placed her hand on my shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She squatted slightly to get a better view of my face. For some reason I couldn’t mutter a word to her no matter how much I tried. “Where is Wonwoo?” Her facial expression turned into worry as I didn’t respond to her questions. My breathing was becoming uneven again as I tried to muster up some courage to talk.

“J-Jaein… I n-need to go.” She immediately understood what was happening and mentally cursed Wonwoo for not taking care of me.

“I’ll help you to class if you want Gyu.” Jaein held onto my arm as she tried her best to console me with subtle rubs on my back.

“It’s okay…” I said as I exhaled deeply. She nodded and gave me a brief but warm hug.

“Text me if you need anything, okay Gyu?” I nodded.

Once I was alone, not only did I feel embarrassed but I started to feel anxious again. I’m losing my mind. People around me were stealing glances at the crazy one-man show happening in the foyer. The hallways started to flood with students freshman year and up as it neared the beginning of class. I started to feel dizzy, but i knew I had to get to class quickly. I jet up the stairs, pushing students out of the way before sputtering a broken sorry to them afterwards. Rushing into my designated homeroom, I stopped again to breathe. My friends greeted me but I wasn’t in the right mind to greet them back. Slowly, I walked over to the desk in the corner, farthest from all the doors. Taking off my backpack and setting it on top of the desk, I plopped into the chair and slid down against my chair in a slouch position. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my sleeve and let out deep exhales before scanning the entire classroom. My best friend sat in front of me and turned his body around to face me.

“You don’t look so good Mingyu.” He said as he handed me a water bottle and apple flavored hard candy from his backpack.

“Thanks Myungho.” I took the water and downed half of it before fist bumping him and returning my attention back to the front of the classroom. The homeroom teacher entered the classroom and the class leader called the room to attention. After standing to greet the teacher I yawned into the sleeve of my school uniform. I rested the side of my head against the palm of my hand as I fight the urge to fall asleep in the beginning of class. As soon as my eyes close for .01 seconds the class goes into a rowdy crowd of “OOHs” and “WHOAs”. My eyes shoot open for a moment to see what was going on.

“The new student will be here shortly, she moved here from Japan and says she’s eager to continue education here in Korea. Make sure to welcome her and make her feel at home.” Tch. A new student? Whatever.  I thought to myself as it’s not something to get rowdy over. I close my eyes again to see if I could sneak a couple more minutes of sleep in while the teacher and class waits for this new student.

With only three whole minutes of shut eye, I found myself looking at the opened door. Everybody went quiet as they turned their head in the direction to see a petite girl the size of a middle schooler shuffling her way inside. She kept her head slightly low as she stood next to the teacher. I guess she’s just shy.

“Please introduce yourself to the class miss.” The teacher said with a cheerful ring in her tone. The girl flinched slightly at the teacher’s enthusiasm. Hesitantly the girl sighed softly and lifted her head up to see her face. Damn. Insomnia hit her hard too.

“Soshida Mayu. Just call me Mayu.” She said loud enough for people in the back to hear before bowing. Mayu excused herself to sit in the only empty seat which is next to mine. As she walked closer to my direction, she stopped midway as I came in eye contact with her. Mayu blinked once before sitting in the seat next to mine without taking off her backpack. I couldn’t help but at this point feel a little curious. There were a lot of “why” questions linked to Mayu that I wanted to ask but didn’t really bother to. Throughout the day I snuck a few glances at Mayu who sat up straight, kept her eyes on the lesson and didn’t move an ince. Not even for lunch time. She didn’t move or talk even when the other classmates wanted to talk or have lunch with her. Mayu had medium length hair that she braided messily into pigtails with a strands of loose hair framing her face. Her eyebrows were filled in as you would see it on TV recently. The tired in her eyes were plastered on her face as if a whole year of sleep wasn’t going to get rid of them. She had a rosy red lip tint on that matched the rosy blush that trailed along her cheekbones and nose bridge. Maybe she’s trying to hide how tired she is with makeup? If so, it’s not working girly. She doesn’t even smile. I thought to myself, not noticing that she had been staring at me the whole time as well. I broke out of the trance and looked out the window, the glaze in the window showing the reflection of her still looking at me after I had looked away. Something about her creeped me out and I know I wasn’t the only one thinking the same thing. The rest of the class completely avoided Mayu as they deemed her weird looking with a creepy vibe.

-

Class for the day ended and I got up, dragging my backpack behind me as I head to the school’s library. Wonwoo always promises to meet me in the library after school before we head home.  I push the glass door to the library open, waving to the friendly librarian as I enter. I strut my way over to the fiction section of the library only to see that Mayu girl again. I watched as she struggled to reach a book on the highest shelf.

“Um. Do you need help?” I quietly asked. She looked up towards my towering figure. I was a whole foot taller than her yet she looks like she could rip me in half easily. Mayu pointed towards the book she wanted and I grabbed it off the shelf for her. “Here you go.” I cracked a fake smile to see if she would do the same. No luck. Mayu mumbles a quiet thank you as she hugs the book close to her chest. We stood there for an awkward second just staring at each other before I decided to break the silence. “I… have to go find my friend…” I said as I turn around to dismiss myself. Mayu quickly steps in front of me, stopping me from leaving.

“He’s not here.” She whispers enough for only me to hear. For some reason it sends a shiver down my spine.

“What do you mean? He always meets me in the library after school.” I started to sweat. Mayu avoided eye contact with me as she looked down towards her book.

“Your phone.” She says, almost inaudible. Confused and a bit frightened, I took out my phone from my pocket. My eyes widen as I got a text from Wonwoo short after. My body heated as I felt angry and upset at the thought of Wonwoo going to hang out with his friends after school without me. I’d rather sleep here in the library than walk home alone. I started nibbling at my fingernails anxiously.

“I can walk you home.” Mayu looks up at me, her facial expression not changing one bit.

“Stop. Stop this. Who are you?? Why are you reading my mind?? Get away from me!” I suddenly started to feel dizzy again. Embarrassment and shock was overwhelming as people shushed me in the library. I felt like breathing was the hardest thing for me right now. I needed to get out of here. Mayu stood still before reaching a single hand to mine. Once our hands came in contact it was as if Mayu had sucked all the ill feelings from my body. I regained my conscious and yanked my hand from hers. “I-I can’t walk home with a stranger. I know you don’t talk much but you’re going to make me trust you.” I crossed my arms demanding an answer. She stood there in pure silence as she continued to stare up at me. I realised it was only getting darker outside and there was no point into putting full trust on someone. Trust comes with time and time I do not have a lot of. I sighed in defeat as I held onto a loose strap from Mayu’s backpack, “just because I’m letting you walk me home doesn’t mean I trust you even a little bit. I just really don’t want to walk alone.” Mayu nodded as she went to check out her book.

“Fair enough.” Is all she said back.

Once we exited the library, the wind of the night blew making me tense up uncomfortably. It was a silent walk between the two of us though the night life of Seoul was roaring around us. Halfway towards the shared apartment complex, Mayu stops in her tracks. Confused, I tug on her backpack strap.

“Hey, why did you stop? We’re almost there.” I asked. Mayu looked up at me with a frightened glint in her eyes. I couldn’t help but copy and paste her expression onto my on face.

“Let’s run,” she whimpered as she grabbed a hold onto my wrist, “now!” Without a question in the air my body moved on it’s own. I sprinted wherever the latter lead us to. I don’t know if I was being crazy or if the footsteps of someone chasing behind us was real. I ran with Mayu as if my life depended on it. Soon the footsteps behind us faded as we continued running. Mayu’s steps slowed down as she encountered a mustard-yellow door. She unlocked the door and dragged me inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She closed the blinds and turned off any main light source, only to leave a small lamp on. Mayu turned to Mingyu and sighed, a slight hint of sadness in her eyes. “Make yourself at home..” She whispered as she poured two glasses with peach juice from the fridge, handing a glass to me. I quietly thanked her as I downed the whole glass in one.

“Where am I?” I asked as I look around the small space furnished with only small kitchen that could only fit two people at a time, a red-tattered couch, a small 24-inch TV, a nintendo-64, a tower of different animes, the lamp, and a small picture hung next to an old calendar from 2016.

“My home…” Mayu sips on the peach juice casually as she strolls to the couch.

“Cozy.. I guess.” I sit next to Mayu.

“Hey! Mayu! You’re back! How’s school!” A man who was three times bigger than Mayu comes from the bathroom and waves eagerly with a smile. Mayu replies with nothing but a simple, “good.”

The man fixes his glasses and looks at Mingyu curiously. He was tall but really bulky at the same time. He wore red basketball shorts and a blue sailor moon themed shirt. “Oh uh.. Hello! I’m Sam! Short for Samgyeopsal. HAHAHA. People just call me Sam for short. Nice to meet you.. Uh … What’s your name?”

“Mingyu. My name is Kim Mingyu… Is your name really Samgyeopsal??”

“Probably not. I don’t know my actual name to be honest. So what brings you here? Are you hungry?”

I raise my eyebrows, fascinated at how somebody doesn’t know their real name. “I actually don’t know why I’m here to be honest and no I’m not hungry. I was walking home with Mayu when all of a sudden we just started running away from something or someone or…. I don’t know. Mayu! What was that even about?? When can I go home??”

“Home isn’t safe.”

“I don’t feel safe anywhere I am so what’s the point!”

“Quiet.”

“Mayu! I need answers! Can’t you tell me what we were running from?!”

“...”

I close my eyes and groan in defeat. I might as well rest here and go to school with Mayu instead tomorrow morning.