#why am I so sad? got hit with a depression wave out of nowhere

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾When Doves Cry🐾

Summary: Against her better judgement, Ochako saves the one Izuku loves... no matter how unexpected the results turn out to be.

~~~

Ochako hated this feeling. She knew it was wrong and selfish, and she wanted nothing more than to dispel it from her system, refresh herself, and ignore the sight in front of her. She knew it was jealousy that raked at her heart as her eyes settled on Izuku and Melissa chatting away happily a few tables away from them, but she refused to acknowledge it, forcing herself to look back at her plate and shovel food into her mouth. She wanted to be happy for them, wanted to be able to be around them without wanting to vomit, but her heart forced her to feel this way. She grunted and shoved more food down her throat, trying to distract herself. The food was delicious but she could barely taste it as her eyes disobeyed her brain and looked towards the pair again, her heart clenching when she saw Izuku tilt his head back and laugh heartily at something Melissa said. It sickened her how much she wanted to be in Melissa’s place, wanting to hold Izuku, make him laugh, cuddle him, kiss him. Her cheeks flushed and she turned back to her dinner, fighting back the tears that threatened to appear.

“How pathetic,” Ochako muttered to herself, angry at the tears that pushed against her eyelids, angry at the coiling feeling in her stomach, angry at the beast that roared in fury at the sight of Melissa and Izuku together, angry at everything. A hand on her shoulder jolted her from her swirling thoughts, making her jump.

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been spacing out for a while.”

Ochako looked up to see her best friend, Tsu, standing beside her, holding her own tray of food in her free hand.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” Ochako said, injecting false cheerfulness into her voice and forcing a smile to her face. It was obvious that her friend saw through the excuse and the smile, but the frog girl said nothing as she settled into the seat beside Ochako.

The pair ate in silence for a while, Tsu’s presence finally starting to calm the turmoil in Ochako’s gut. Something about the gentle, cool-headed frog girl was just so calming, and it helped distract Ochako for the first time all evening.

“Is it because of Midoriya?” Tsu asked suddenly, causing Ochako to choke slightly on her bite of food. Coughing and pounding her chest, Ochako swallowed her food painfully and turned to look at her friend incredulously.

“What are you talking about?” Ochako asked, trying to act as if she had no idea what Tsu was talking about.

“Don’t play dumb, Ochako, you’ve been looking so depressed lately and I want to know what’s wrong. Hence why I asked. So, is it Midoriya?”

Ochako sighed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to dodge her way out of this one, Tsu was way too observant and patient to let any excuse get by her. Glancing at her friend, Ochako nodded, her face flushed. Tsu sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Ochako.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s nobody’s fault but mine. If I wanted him, I should’ve said something. Instead, I hid my feelings away and refused to say anything like the coward I am. Now, he has someone who was able to take that step. I should be happy for them, I want to be happy for them, and I know I will eventually come to terms with it. For now, though, I just feel sad. That’s all. I’ll be back to normal in a few days,” Ochako said, flashing Tsu a sad smile.

An airy giggle made both girls turn to see Melissa, with a bright blush on her face, leaning over to whisper something into Izuku’s ear. The green-haired boy leaned away from her, his face also rivaling that of a tomato, his hand coming up to lightly slap her arm. Melissa giggled again as Izuku averted his gaze, a sheepish smile plastered on his face. The sight made Ochako’s heart squeeze almost painfully.

Melissa and Izuku were together. It was painfully obvious, and everyone knew about their new relationship. Everybody saw the look in their eyes as they looked at each other, and the times when they would hold each other’s hands under the table. Everyone would watch with wide eyes as they whispered sweet nothings in each other’s ears and followed each other back to their rooms in the evenings.

It made Ochako sick to her stomach but there was nothing she could do. She had missed her chance to be with the love of her life. Standing abruptly, Ochako said goodbye to Tsu and took her tray to be disposed of. Shoving down her feelings with an almost angry sense of determination, Ochako left the cafeteria without looking back.

~~~

“SHIT!” Ochako yelled as she looked up to where a villain with a growth quirk was smashing his fist through buildings left and right. Ochako thanked whatever gods there were that she was in her hero costume, having gone out to train right before the villain appeared. People began to scream and run as debris fell like rain from the sky, pummeling the streets and destroying the smaller buildings below the skyscrapers.

This was bad. Under normal circumstances, villains were a bad thing in general, but here on I-Island, where the population was smaller and the area of land was limited, a villain appearance became even worse. These people had nowhere to go, and it was obvious that people were beginning to panic over that fact, their eyes wide and their paces frantic as they searched for a path to safety.

Ochako did not hesitate to jump into the action, her legs carrying her to the building right beside the villain. Ducking to avoid the falling debris, Ochako activated her quirk on herself and shot into the air, floating upwards until she was able to reach the top of the crumbling structure. The villain was focused on the destruction he was causing, his face scrunched up in wicked glee as he rammed his fist into the building once more.

Ochako closed her eyes for a moment as she hid behind a large slab of debris, trying to think of a plan. Opening her eyes again, she scanned the area, looking for some way to subdue him. That’s when her eyes settled on the huge, open ceiling stadium the island often used for science festivals. Her eyes widening, she formed a plan in her mind. If she could get him to the stadium, the other heroes would be in a better position to help, and the steel arches that rose up on the side of the stadium might just trap his legs, keeping him from causing any more damage.

Jumping out from her hiding spot, Ochako pressed her fingers to the debris she had just been hiding behind and charged at the villain, the debris following her as she ran. The villain turned to look at her but wasn’t quite quick enough before the slab of broken building slammed into him, hitting him square in the face. The villain stumbled back with a pained roar, his large hand coming up to paw gingerly at his broken nose. When his eyes turned to Ochako, they spelled out death in the worst way possible.

Ochako wasted no time using her quirk on herself to jump from building to building, continuing to fling debris and spew insults at him as she ran. The villain focused solely on her, his eyes flashing dangerously as he sped up, following her as she streaked for the stadium. The villain was hot on her heels, hand reaching out to snatch her when suddenly the villain was thrown backward. The large beast of a man landed firmly on his butt, creating a small crater in the street. Ochako snapped her head around just in time to see a flash of green as Izuku launched at the villain, who was attempting to stand back up. Izuku’s next move forced the man back down onto the street. The villain growled in frustration as he placed his hands on the street and jumped up onto the balls of his feet.

“Deku!” Ochako yelled as Izuku went to knock him down again, only to have to dodge as the villain swiped at him with both huge hands. Izuku used his quirk to jump far away from the villain’s reach before looking at Ochako. The floaty hero in training beckoned him over as the villain began to push himself back onto his humongous feet.

“Help me lead him to the stadium, we can subdue him there,” Ochako said as soon as Izuku reached her. Her best friend nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile on his face, and his eyes sparkling as he regarded her plan. It was a simple plan but one that would work exceedingly well for this unique situation. Leaping away from her again, Izuku aimed a powered punch at the villain’s face rather than his gut, the gear on his arms from Melissa keeping him from breaking his arms on impact. The attack struck true as the villain’s head was snapped to the side while his body remained standing upright.

Ochako sent another block of debris his way, relishing in the villain’s roar of pain as a car got lodged in his eye. The combination of attacks from the two young heroes set something off in the villain then, his aura turning murderous as he suddenly sprinted at the both of them. Ochako let out a surprised squeak and leaped away from where the villain reached for her, jumping onto the next building roof. She could feel herself getting tired but she kept up her series of distracting attacks and dodging the villain’s attempts to catch her. Izuku was doing the same thing, using his power quirk to keep out of the villain’s reach while simultaneously hitting the villain over and over again.

“YOU GUYS ARE DEAD!” The villain roared, surprising both Izuku and Ochako with his booming voice. Continuing on, the pair worked seamlessly in unison to bring the villain closer and closer to his trap.

The villain reached out and grabbed a chunk of a nearby building before hurling it at the two young heroes. Ochako felt the very corner of it hit her leg and felt something snap painfully but she managed to keep from falling off the building she was on. Her pained yelp brought Izuku over to her but she waved him off, pointing subtly to the stadium and mouthing to keep going. Izuku looked worried and hesitant but moved ahead, aiming another hit on the villain. Ochako kept moving, forcing down the bile that rose in her throat at the pain, and used her quirk to keep as much weight off of her injured leg as possible. She felt nauseous from both her quirk and her injury but she managed to stay focused, blocking out the world around her as she focused on avoiding each attack from behind her.

A loud, terrified squeal jolted Ochako out of her focus, her eyes darting down to where the villain was reaching for someone in the street. Her eyes widened as she took in the wavy blonde hair and shining blue eyes she had come to loathe in the recent days, her heart quickening as she watched the villain open his fingers, ready to grab at her small frame. Izuku had not yet noticed what the villain was doing, too preoccupied with the villain’s other hand, which was continuing to swipe at him as he flew around. Ochako knew her feelings were less than positive when it came to Melissa Shield, but she also knew she was a nice person and that those feelings only existed due to her jealousy.

“MELISSA LOOK OUT!” Ochako screamed, ignoring the pain that rocketed up her leg as she launched off of the building and right for the villain’s hand. She felt the villain’s fingers close around her body instead of Melissa’s and let out a pained scream as he clenched his digits around her body.

Raising his hand up, the villain threw Ochako from his grip, watching with unsuppressed glee as her body collided with the side of a building with a sickening crunch. She almost immediately blacked out, the distant sound of someone screaming her name just barely registering in her brain as she lost consciousness.

~~~

Ochako felt like she had just gone through a tornado. Everything hurt, her body, her arms, her legs, her face, everything throbbed. She groaned softly and would’ve laughed at how weak and pathetic it sounded if it weren’t for the pain she was in.

“Come on, open your eyes!” A voice said from somewhere above her. She had no idea who the voice belonged to but they sounded kind. She groaned again and felt her eyelids twitch as she subconsciously tried to open her eyes. She wanted to sleep for the rest of her life at the moment but she could still feel herself coming out of it regardless, little white spot starting to peek through the darkness surrounding her.

“Come on, ‘Chako!”

She finally managed to crack open her eyes but immediately shut them again at the bright light that assaulted them.

“Can someone turn off the damn sun?” Ochako muttered as she attempted once again to open her eyes.

This time, the light was less harsh as her sensitive eyes got used to it. She blinked a few times and realized that she had been taken to some sort of hospital, the white walls and sleek tile flooring making the light shine ever brighter. The smell of medical supplies stung her nose and she had to refrain from scrunching up her face in disgust.

“Oh thank god!” The same voice from earlier said, dripping with relief. Ochako looked over to the side to see Izuku sitting in a chair by her bedside, tears shining on his cheeks and his hair an absolute mess. He was clutching her hand in his, his fingers shaking against her soft skin. “Oh thank god, Ochako, I-I thought I l-lost you!”

Ochako stared at him in shock and glanced down at their intertwined hands. She was disgusted with how much her heart soared at the sight, her eyes narrowing slightly as she coached herself to behave.

Izuku glanced at her face before looking down at their joined hands. Noticing her expression, Izuku quickly released her hand and raised it to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“S-Sorry,” Izuku said, completely unaware of the cold feeling that washed over Ochako as soon as he let go of her. “I was just scared I’d lose you, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Shaking herself from her daze, Ochako waved him off with a bright smile.

“You have nothing to apologize for, absolutely nothing Deku,” She said. “I was just a little surprised is all.”

Izuku’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah, I can see why that would seem really unexpected.”

Ochako was just about to say something when a loud voice echoed through the other side of her hospital room door, making both Ochako and Izuku look around at the door.

“Where is she!?”

“She’s in room 136,” a deep voice they did not recognize responded.

They both heard the sound of hurried footsteps and not too long after, the door to Ochako’s room burst open, revealing a red-faced Melissa, her eyes shining with tears and her hair hanging around her shoulders in a tangled mess. Before Ochako could react, Melissa threw herself at the floaty girl, her arms linking behind her neck and burying her face in Ochako’s shoulder. Ochako’s mouth hung open in shock and it took her a moment of hesitation before she gingerly wrapped her arms around the sobbing blonde.

“Thank you, t-thank you, thank you!!!” Melissa bawled. “Y-You saved me! You didn’t have to do that but you did and you almost died because of me. I will always be in your debt, thank you so much!”

Melissa leaned back, her eyes shining as she stared at Ochako. Ochako was completely shocked but managed to give her a shaky smile.

“It was my pleasure, I couldn’t just stand there and watch you get killed, not when I was there to do something and help people. You don’t owe me anything, but I did appreciate the hug,” Ochako said softly.

Melissa let out another soft sob and encompassed her in a gentler hug this time.

“Thank you,” Melissa mumbled again before climbing off of Ochako and standing back up, using her hands to smooth out her rumpled dress.

“What happened to the villain?” Ochako asked.

“Oh! Izuku went down and picked you up after you saved me, but at that point, other heroes had shown up. He told them your plan so they continued it. The metal arches of the stadium trapped him and he was subdued and arrested by the authorities. He won’t be seeing the light of day any time soon,” Melissa said.

“Hey, Melissa? Could you give me a minute alone with ‘Chako?” Izuku asked suddenly.

Ochako snapped her gaze to Izuku and saw that he was avoiding her gaze, his eyes fixed on his girlfriend.

Melissa smiled and nodded, wiping away her tears as she sniffled.

“O-Of course, take all the time you need.”

Melissa then moved over to Izuku and cupped his ear, leaning in to whisper something to him. Even when she was injured and exhausted, Ochako felt a boiling rage at the sight of the two of them. She was so disgusted with herself as her jealous feelings came rearing up stronger than ever. Her mood only worsened as Izuku blushed a brilliant shade of red and glared half-heartedly at Melissa, who laughed in a sing-song voice. Heading out the door, Melissa threw Izuku a wink just before she shut the door with a click.

The room was silent. Izuku stood awkwardly for a while and Ochako shifted uncomfortably in her bed, the tension almost palpable in the air.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” Ochako asked quietly.

“Why did you do it?”

“Huh?” Ochako asked, not expecting the question.

“Why did you put yourself at the risk of death to save Melissa? I mean, I’m grateful, but why?”

“Because I’m a hero, Deku, I’m not going to bypass someone in need.”

“I know, but I feel like there is something more behind it. You didn’t deflect the attack, you took the attack, why?”

“Because I-”

“Please,” Izuku said softly. “Don’t lie to me.”

Ochako sucked in a breath at his tone. Swallowing thickly and averting her gaze, she nodded.

“Alright, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just want to know.”

“I just… I just didn’t want you to lose someone you love,” Ochako said.

“HUH?” Izuku said, his head snapping up.

“I just… I don’t know, I haven’t seen you act this happy before, being with Melissa has definitely changed your mood for the better and I didn’t want you to lose that. You told me you were bullied a lot as a kid but now you have someone to hold you, make you laugh, kiss you, love you, and I didn’t want you to lose this new piece of your life. I know I got injured but it was worth it if it means you get to stay happy.”

Ochako then closed her eyes, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t read too deeply into her words. She loved Izuku but she did not want to ruin his current relationship by stupidly admitting her love for him. The silence seemed to stretch forever as she waited impatiently for him to respond.

“Oh my god…,” Izuku whispered.

Ochako chanced a peek at him and saw him lean back in his chair, his hand covering his eyes, a deep sigh escaping him. Ochako fought the tears back as she closed her eyes again. She had ruined everything. He knew and he hated her. He was disgusted with her. He wanted to end their friendship and never see her again. Ochako couldn’t stop the tidal wave of thoughts that flooded her brain like some sort of infectious disease, attacking her heart over and over again as she pictured every terrible scenario of the future with him.

“I’m such a damn moron!”

Izuku’s sudden exclamation made her eyes snap open and meet his gaze which she hadn’t known was intently locked on her.

“Gods, Ochako I am so sorry,” Izuku groaned. “You’ve got it all wrong and it’s all my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

Izuku met her gaze and smiled nervously.

“Melissa and I aren’t together.”

“What?” Ochako asked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I am not dating Melissa Shield,” Izuku said, taking a deep breath. “The only person I love is you, and I almost lost you.”

Ochako’s whole body suddenly felt as if it had been jolted by lightning. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped slightly as his words sank in.

The only person I love is you.

The only person I love is you.

The only person I love is you.

“W-What?” Ochako whispered.

Izuku shuffled nervously in his seat and broke her gaze.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed to tell you how I feel. I almost lost you, and that made me realize that if I didn’t tell you, I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

Izuku then reached forward and gently took hold of her hand. Ochako looked down at their intertwined hands and this time didn’t hate herself for the feeling of joy that bubbled up in her chest, the beast that had been tormenting her with jealousy, roaring in triumph. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks and her heart nearly burst out of her chest when Izuku leaned forward and gently wiped the tears from her face with the pad of his thumb.

“I didn’t screw this up, did I?” Izuku asked nervously.

Ochako shook her head, her bangs swaying in front of her face.

“You didn’t ruin anything, I think you did fine.”

Swallowing thickly, Izuku glanced down at her lips and then back up to her eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. Ochako nodded enthusiastically and leaned forward to meet him in the middle for the kiss she had dreamed of having for so long. Ochako sighed contentedly as his soft lips met hers and leaned into his touch when he reached up to cup her cheek. Her own arms snaked over his shoulders and linked behind his neck, running her fingers through the hair on the base of his neck.

Izuku groaned at the feeling of her fingers running through his hair, his heart thumping so wildly he idly wondered if everyone in the hospital could hear it. She felt so good against him, her taste instantly addicting and her wonderful smell making him sigh in bliss. He loved her so much, had loved her for so long, he couldn’t believe he had accidentally prohibited his chances of being with the love of his life by being around the sweet blonde so much. The pair finally broke apart, a thin line of saliva still connecting them before diminishing as Izuku moved down to rest his forehead against hers. The two were panting slightly, trying to catch their breaths from the electrifying, albeit clumsy first kiss.

“Wow…” Ochako mumbled against him causing Izuku to chuckle. Ochako melted against him as the vibrations of his laugh rumbled against her figure from where she leaned against his chest. Making sure to be mindful of her injuries, Izuku pulled her closer and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Ochako Uraraka,” Izuku said, making her breath hitch slightly despite already hearing those words from earlier. “Would you be my girlfriend? Please?”

“Of course!” Ochako almost squealed in response. “I love you too Izuku Midoriya.”

Izuku chuckled and pulled her tighter against him, his face snuggling closer to her soft skin. Suddenly, Ochako pulled back a bit, a concentrated look on her face.

“Wait, if you weren’t with Melissa, why were you spending so much time with her? I’m totally fine with you having female friends, I’m not that kind of girlfriend, but you were always holding hands, and whispering to each other, and going to each other’s rooms at night,” Ochako asked, pulling back a bit more to get a good look at his face. Izuku chuckled and blushed.

“Oh, that,” Izuku said, rubbing the back of his neck again. “So, I actually spent so much time with her because when she was meeting with me to talk about new gear for my quirk in battle, I accidentally let it slip that I liked you. I was super embarrassed at first but then she told me I needed to confess to you. I didn’t know how, I didn’t even know where to begin, so she said she would help me. Every day at lunch she would whisper to me things that I could say to you, which was oftentimes why I ended up a blushing mess. She would hold my hand so I would know what to do when comforting you. She also did it with her pinky up to get me used to the feeling of holding your hand without having your quirk activate on me. She even gave me these,” Izuku said holding up a small glass box he pulled from his pocket containing two clear things that looked like contact lenses.

“She made them for you, they go over your pinky fingers so you won’t float anything without having to keep your pinky up all the time. She came to my room in the evening to discuss plans for how to confess to you, but she always left before curfew. Nothing ever happened between us. She was just kind enough to help my dumb ass,” Izuku joked causing Ochako to smile. “The last thing she said to me before walking out that door a few minutes ago was ‘Now’s your chance, go get her, tiger.’” Izuku said, his blush coming back in full force to stain his cheeks.

Ochako laughed heartily at that, her heart lifting and her biased jealousy of the blonde fading away completely. She was going to have to thank Melissa another time but for now, she had other things she needed to do first. Reaching for him, Ochako sealed their lips again, relishing in the surprised squeak that came from his mouth as she pulled him as close to her as possible. When they parted again, her eyes were filled with love and light for the boy in front of her.

“I love you, ‘Zuku, thank you for everything.”

“I love you too, ‘Chako, so much.”

As much as she wanted to continue snuggling with him, Ochako was tired, the pain of her injuries dragging her stamina back down after her temporary energy high. Laying her back down, Izuku gently pressed a kiss to her forehead and tucked her in, a bright smile on his face.

“Sleep well, Ochako, I’ll always be here to protect you.”

Ochako fell asleep then, a wide smile teasing her lips, her mind filling with loving images of the two of them, her heart warming as she felt Izuku settle beside her to watch over her just like he promised.

[septicbro1005]

I am an Addict, But I Get Paid to Indulge in my Habit

A/N: Sad Kirishima thing with implied Kiribaku. I just heard a song, got hit with the biggest wave of inspiration, so I’ll work on it between breaks in homework assignments. Ready for some good ol’ sad shit? Great. Based off of “Art is Dead” by Bo Burnham. There will be cursing, self-deprecation, depressed / anxious thoughts, suicidal thoughts, mentions of self-harm, etc. If this shit is not your cup of tea, go onto whatever the hell else you’d like. Cool? Cool.

Eijirou Kirishima hasn’t really been the most confident person in the world. Hell, probably not even the most confident person in Class 3-A. No matter the facade he put on, his inferiority complex has always bit him in the ass at the worst times.

Does he ever show other people how he feels when that happens?

Of course not!

He’s Eijirou Kirishima! The Unbreakable Red Riot! Nothing will ever make him break! He’s the toughest, manliest man out there!

Yet, behind closed doors, there are those days.

When the voice in his head screams. When a loud noise makes his heart race for the next thirty minutes. When his fingernails dig into his shoulders as he takes deep breaths. When the second he does something wrong or that he feels is wrong, he clams up and is flooded with guilt. When he doesn’t speak unless spoken to, and only replies with the fewest amount of words possible. When the fake smiles and the fake affirmations come to the surface.

Then the memories come in.

They flood in faster than he can stop them, and he’s stuck thinking about those things until he finds something else to do.

So that’s why he asked Jirou, in their first year, about music. Happily, Jirou taught him to play the keyboard, which he grasped quite quickly. In fact, by their third year, he was writing his own songs.

Of course, his lack of confidence never allowed him to put them out to the world for people to see.

But, he anonymously goes to a cafe near campus and plays his music there. Every weekend he can.

He’s somehow become a hero in training by day, and a comic musician by night.

This results in little to no down time, what with all of his classes, studying, creating new music, and anything else along those lines.

And there’s one song he’d been working on since he began writing his own music. He’s put his heart and soul into it. He’s practiced it, he’s practically perfected it.

Since he started his gigs at the cafe, he’s been debating on whether or not to throw it into his set list. And every time, before he can even make a joke to introduce the song, he pauses.

He can’t.

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He can’t think properly. There’s only a few thoughts that swirl in his head, until one voice in his head yells at him to move on.

And so he does.

There was one night, however, that he had an exceptionally shitty day. He almost entirely flunked a quiz, he passed out during training because he didn’t eat lunch, and Bakugou was nowhere to be seen.

Eijirou has no idea how or why Katsuki Bakugou affects him so much. Yet, whenever something happens to the ash blond or the ash blond isn’t there, he’s filled with anxiety and even a bit of jealousy.

Which makes Eijirou hate the way he felt that day.

So when he came into the cafe that night, his beanie shoved low onto his head and colored contacts on, it was much harder to fake his entertainer’s smile.

He started with a couple of jokes and dumber songs, with only some meaning behind it.

And as he finished the third song, he heard the door open up to the cafe.

He’s grown used to people walking in part way into his shows, it doesn’t offend him. Not like it really should. He’s not doing it for money. He just wants to release his feelings in the form of music and comedy.

                                                          ~~~

Katsuki Bakugou was a frequent customer at a cafe close to campus. He had been since he was a second year. He’s always loved going on the weekends, when the entertainer is there.

He never heard a name from the man, and it seems no one else has either. He asked the manager, but she said she was sworn to secrecy by him.

So, he hears the wild applause coming from the cafe, and felt a small grin bloom on his face that grew once he entered.

The man sat in front of his piano, drinking from one of the coffee cups from the cafe. The cafe bought a piano for the man a few weeks after Katsuki began to frequent the place.

Customers erupted with clapping and laughter as the man turned from the piano.

“Okay. Next, I’ve got a poem for you guys. It’s called ‘I Fuck Sluts’,”

A woman in the crowd screamed.

“Not a roll call, but thank you,”

                                                        ~~~

The night was almost over, one song being the last thing in Eijirou’s set list.

He’s kept it to himself for far too long, He was gonna burst if he didn’t say something.

“This next song honestly isn’t funny at all, but it helps me sleep at night,” he managed to push out, rubbing his sweaty palms against his pants.

The anxiety in his voice would be obvious to any of his friends. None of them were there, though, so he doesn’t have to worry.

Katuski watched the performer closely, watching his nails dig into his knee for a moment before bringing them up to the piano keys.

His fingers moved quickly and gracefully across the keys, causing a swift yet elegant melody to float through the air.

Katuski watches as the performer looks out into the audience, taking a clear breath in before turning back to the piano.

“Art is dead. Art is dead. Art is dead. Art is dead,”

Eijirou’s voice carried through to the ears of the crowd, one or two weak cheers coming from the audience.

Katsuki appreciated the performer’s voice, being so soft and soothing, no matter how dark the lyrics were.

“Entertainers like to seem complicated, but we're not complicated. I can explain it pretty easily,”

The performer looked like he was glaring holes into somebody, brows furrowed and shoulders stiffer than usual.

Eijirou was tense.

There was no going back. No stopping now.

“Have you ever been to a birthday party for children? And one of the children won't stop screaming,”

They way that line was sang sent shivers through Katsuki. Hatred was evident in his voice, but the question was who it was pointed to. This hypothetical child was clearly a stand-in for somebody.

“'Cause he's just a little attention attractor. When he grows up to be a comic or actor, he'll be rewarded for never maturing. For never understanding or learning that every day can't be about him. There's other people, you selfish asshole,”

Katsuki frowned as the crowd laughed a bit.

Eijirou’s heart beat erratically in his chest, having to take deeper breaths to continue singing properly.

The hypothetical child was one he hated.

“I must be psychotic. I must be demented to think that I'm worthy of all this attention,”

The hypothetical child with shoulder length dark hair, red eyes, sharp teeth and a worthless Quirk.

“Of all of this money, you worked really hard for. I slept in late while you worked at the drug store,”

The hypothetical child who was greedy and ungrateful.

“My drug's attention, I am an addict. But I get paid to indulge in my habit,”

This hypothetical child who grew up, dyeing his hair firetruck red and putting on a mask of confidence.

“It's all an illusion, I'm wearing make-up, I'm wearing make-up Make-up, make-up, make-up, make...”

Katsuki noticed the performer’s voice sounding far more choked up, and he felt his own grip tighten on his coffee cup.

“Art is dead. So people think you're funny, how do you get those peoples money?”

Eijirou’s hands shook as he played, praying to every god that he wouldn’t miss a key and mess up.

Because then the audience might see this isn’t a joke.

“Said art is dead. We're rolling in dough, while Carlin rolls in his grave, his grave, his grave,”

Katsuki went to the coffee counter to go get a refill on coffee, not wanting to take his eyes off the beanie clad performer.

“The show has got a budget. The show has got a budget. And all the poor people way more deserving, of the money won't budge it,”

Eijirou’s had a complicated relationship with money in his life. He started his life with a good amount of money, which then dropped substantially when his Quirk activated.

It wasn’t because of that, but he’d always thought it was his fault for developing a Quirk.

But as he got older, his financial state got much better. He could afford luxuries. He could afford dyeing his hair consistently. He could afford to go to Yuuei.

But then he felt guilty when his parents paid for his braces. He felt guilty when his parents paid for him to go to Yuuei. He felt guilty when his parents paid for a therapist after his mom thought he developed depression. He feels guilty when his parents pay for his medication.

He wants to pay them back, he just doesn’t know how.

“‘Cause I wanted my name in lights. When I could have feed a family of four for forty fucking fortnights. Forty fucking fortnights,”

Eijirou realizes he’s allowed to feel bad for himself. He knows that.

But it’s hard to feel like shit when you know there are small children who can only eat a meal or so a day, because their family lives in poverty.

There are people dying from cancer out there.

There are people who run a razor across their wrists almost daily because they no longer want to be alive.

There are kids who look at the knife block in their kitchen and think about which knife would kill them the fastest.

Because he used to be that kid.

He used to pull the big knives out of the knife block when his parents weren’t home and would think about how quick and easy it would be to make his family’s life so much easier.

Just a few stabs, and they don’t have to deal with me.

“I am an artist, please god forgive me. I am an artist, please don't revere me. I am an artist, please don't respect me. I am an artist, you're free to correct me,”

Katsuki had gotten his new cup of coffee and practically squeezed the coffee out of the cup when he looked at the performer.

His hands were shaking, his cheeks were flushed, and tears streaked down them.

“A self-centered artist. Self-obsesed artist. I am an artist. I am an artist,”

Eijirou hated the warm tears trickling down his face as he sang. He despised it. All he wanted was to finally put this song out, and just be free of it’s almost deathly grasp.

“But I'm just a kid. I'm just a kid I'm just a kid. Kid. And maybe I'll grow out of it,”

Forcefully, Eijirou pressed on the keys with their finishing notes, drinking from his water.

Hardened fingers dug into his leg as he told everyone to have a good night, packed up, and left.

As he exited the warm cafe, he shivered under the fluttering snow. Releasing a sigh, it quickly fogged up.

“Okay, back to--”

“Oi,”

Katsuki watched as the performer whirled around.

“You alright?”

Eijirou sat there, unable to speak.

Katsuki Bakugou went to his show.

Katsuki Bakugou saw him sing his most vulnerable song.

Katsuki Bakugou watched the unbreakable break.

“Fine. You need something, sir?”

“I need to know you’re okay, Shitty Hair,”

Hearing the nickname confirmed Eijirou’s fears, and he shook.

“Ha. So you did recognize me, huh?” Eijirou laughed weakly.

Katsuki felt his brows furrow in a way they don’t normally.

“Wanna talk back at the dorms?” Katsuki offered before taking a sip of coffee. “I’m willing to listen to you,”

Eijirou felt the lump in his throat swell and his eyes spring with tears.

“Yeah... sure,”

A/N: I actually like how this came out! It’s sorta shitty, but not incredibly so! I’ll put this on my Wattpad and my AO3 later, so if you vibe on there, then vibe on there. Peace out! Stay safe and healthy! - Septic / Spark

[angstmatsuscenarios]

How about an Ichimatsu sickfic? I believe that’s within the limits of the rules. I dunno, maybe he tried to play it off as nothing, but stuff happens? I’ll just leave the rest to you. I rly like this blog and I’m excited to see the ask box open again!

Sickfic is not only welcome but also my forte, hehe. Here is some Ichi sickfic for you, hope you enjoy!

Warning for a brief mention of needles (drawing blood, very brief and non-graphic) under the cut:

At first Ichimatsu didn’t give much thought to the fatigue and sore throat he’d been suffering through all day--it had been annoying, but he figured it was probably just allergies, and had kept his face mask on the whole day. He’d felt lousy for the past couple of weeks, and figured it was nothing too bad.

By that night, though, he felt worse--he’d had no appetite at dinner, and it took nearly all of his energy to follow his brothers to the bathhouse. The soak in the hot water felt good to his aching muscles, but the walk home was excruciating, his legs trudging along slowly and his whole body shivering even though it wasn’t that cold out. When they finally got back home all he could do was crawl into the futon the second it was laid out and curl up in his spot, burying his face deep in the blankets.

“Does Ichimatsu seem okay to you?” he overheard Osomatsu ask the remaining brothers. 

“He looks rather pale, and he’s shaking…” Karamatsu noted, a hint of concern in his voice. “Perhaps he’s fallen ill?”

“Then we should force him to sleep in the other room,” Todomatsu asserted. “What if he’s contagious?”

“Have some heart for once, Todomatsu,” Choromatsu admonished him. “He’s wearing a mask, and besides, when has splitting us up ever stopped us from catching each other’s colds anyway?”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay!” Jyushimatsu said with assurance. “But he looks tired, we should let him rest.”

“Fine...but if we’re all coughing and sneezing by the next morning, don’t blame me,” Todomatsu replied curtly.

Ichimatsu would’ve chimed in with a “shut up and die, Todomatsu” had his throat not hurt so badly. Instead he hunkered down deeper in bed and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep and hoping he’d feel better in the morning.

-----------

Mhhh….I feel horrible….

It was the first thought to flicker in Ichimatsu’s mind as he sluggishly came to the next morning. He felt truly miserable, it had been a long time since he’d ever felt this sick...if he had before, now that he thought of it. He was dripping in sweat and wracked with chills all at once, his throat burned more painfully than it ever had before, and he was aware of a dull ache in his side. Not to mention, he was exhausted.

He sat up, slowly, but that brought on a wave of dizziness that made him feel like laying right back down again. His temples pulsated with an awful headache, and he brought his hands up to rub his bleary eyes and will some of the wooziness to go away. It didn’t.

Dammit….guess it wasn’t just allergies after all….

He groaned, reluctantly crawling out from under the futon. He was alone in the room--he assumed his brothers had gotten up to go eat breakfast and had left him to rest. The thought of food suddenly made him feel nauseous, but as much as he wanted to just go straight back to sleep he knew he at least needed to get medicine.

He stood slowly, the room swaying and his head spinning. He shuffled on wobbly legs into the hallway, pressing his hand against the wall for support. Every step was grueling, requiring so much effort it caused sweat to bead up on his forehead. 

What...the hell...is wrong with me…?

He was close to the stairs, just a few more steps...he gingerly put one foot in front of the other, then again…

But suddenly his legs gave out on him, folding so that he hit the floor with a weak grunt. He leaned all his weight against the wall, unable to support himself, whimpering quietly as he rubbed the sore spot on his side. 

Something’s wrong...this isn’t just the flu, is it…?

“Ichimatsu-niisan!”

Ichimatsu had been so zoned out he didn’t notice Jyushimatsu thundering up the stairs until he was by his side, kneeling next to him with a worried expression on his face. 

“Are you okay? I heard a thud, did you fall?” Jyushimatsu asked, and although he wasn’t exactly shouting his voice was loud enough to Ichimatsu’s pounding head to make his ears ring.

“N-no...don’t feel good…” Ichimatsu managed to groan out a response, his throat stinging so badly it made his eyes water. 

Jyushimatsu frowned. “You look awful...look at your neck, your glands are really swollen. And you’re super pale…” 

Still rambling, Jyushimatsu helped Ichimatsu slowly back to his feet. Ichimatsu was just barely aware as his brother practically carried him back to the sextuplets’ room and tucked him back into bed. All the while he wore an anxious expression that was very unlike the sunny fifth son’s usual disposition.

“I’m gonna get Mom, okay?” Jyushimatsu said, lightly patting Ichimatsu’s head. “She’ll help you, she always knows what to do.”

Ichimatsu only managed a feeble moan in response, closing his eyes. He’d never been this miserable when sick before, and it scared him...even scarier was that he didn’t have the energy to be as scared as he probably should be. He could only hope his mother could help him, though he doubted he would be cured by her gentle touch and homemade soup.

What’s going on…?

----------

After hearing that Ichimatsu had nearly passed out, Matsuyo insisted on taking him to the doctor. He hated doctors, but he was so out-of-it that he simply put up with the poking and prodding and blood-taking without much fuss (that was a real sign of how sick he was--he didn’t put up a fight when he saw the needle, just turned his head in the other direction and kept his eyes shut tight when his blood was drawn).

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they received a diagnosis...but unfortunately, it was more serious than anticipated. According to the doctor Ichimatsu had mononucleosis. That explained why he’d felt so run-down for the last few weeks, and also why the glands in his neck were so swollen. The doctor went on to explain that it was the reason Ichimatsu’s side hurt, too--his spleen was swollen, a fact that thoroughly freaked him out, though the doctor said as long as he was careful not to injure his spleen and cause it to rupture the swelling would most likely go down sooner rather than later (the word “rupture” only induced more panic).  

There wasn’t much that could be done to treat mono, either--the most vital thing was rest. It could take weeks, even months, for someone to recover completely from mono, Ichimatsu discovered, and while it didn’t affect him too much since he had no job or school to worry about...the idea of being sick for so long was scary. He couldn’t imagine going more than a few days feeling this crappy, but weeks? Months?! Not to mention, it meant staying home and resting that whole time...he wasn’t much for leaving the house to begin with, but not be able to visit his cat friends in the alley, or join his brothers when they went to Chibita’s? He hated the thought of being excluded from all of that for who knew how long.

The doctor tried to be reassuring, insisting it was possible to have a speedier recovery as long as he took good care of himself, but all Ichimatsu felt was dread. It was awful news, he couldn’t even pretend there was a bright side to it. 

When Ichimatsu got home from the doctor, he’d found his brothers had set up a temporary room for him in the spare room. It wasn’t just that his mono was potentially contagious, but they insisted it would be easier for him to recuperate if he had peace and quiet while he rested. He wanted to call bull on that last claim, but was so tired that he just crawled right into his futon in his “new” room and went right to sleep without protest.

Days passed by. It wasn’t long before Ichimatsu started to feel bored and lonely. He felt marginally better than he had the first couple of days, but he was still nowhere near well, and the thought was depressing to him that he’d have a long time of feeling this way.  

He spent most of his time sleeping. He didn’t have the energy for much else. Sometimes his mother popped in to give him food (which he hardly ate—his throat hurt too much and his appetite was pretty much nonexistent), and other times one of his brothers would pay a quick visit (wearing a mask, not surprisingly). It was nice, but not the same as being with them like usual, and once they left he felt sad again. 

Gradually, though, Jyushimatsu began spending more and more time with him. He’d sit at Ichimatsu’s bedside for hours, playing a game or reading a manga or sorting his baseball cards—activities he didn’t always possess much patience for, being as active as he was. He made light conversation with Ichimatsu, though kept it to a minimum, knowing Ichimatsu wasn’t much for talking. It was the quietest and most still Jyushimatsu had ever been.

Ichimatsu was grateful for the company, but he felt guilty as well. Surely this wasn’t what Jyushimatsu felt like doing—this had to be cutting into his baseball time, which he treasured. Ichimatsu didn’t want both of them to be trapped inside all the time, not when Jyushimatsu was well and could do whatever he wanted.

“Jyushi,” Ichimatsu spoke up one afternoon, his voice rusty. Jyushimatsu had been poring over a baseball book, but perked up at the sound of Ichimatsu’s voice. “You don’t have to stay with me all the time...you can go outside and play baseball or whatever you want. I feel bad if you’re staying in all the time because of me.”

Jyushimatsu offered a bright smile. “But, Ichimatsu-niisan, I am doing what I want!” he insisted, crawling closer to his brother. “It must suck being sick in bed for so long. I wouldn’t want to be alone all the time if it were me. Besides, I have my most fun when I’m with you—even if you can’t do much now, I like being with you. And baseball isn’t the same without you there, either.”

“Really…?” Ichimatsu wasn’t so sure about that. How much fun could he be?

“Really!” Jyushimatsu nodded enthusiastically. “You’re my best friend, I’ll always stay by your side! And it won’t be like this forever either, sooner or later you’ll recover and we can get right back to playing! So just keep your chin up, okay, Niisan?”

Ichimatsu blinked, just a little surprised...not to mention touched. Jyushimatsu really did just want to spend time with him, even if that time consisted of doing nothing more than hanging out in the same room together while he slept. Jyushimatsu really was his best friend, and even though he still felt terrible that realization made him feel just a little better.

“Thank you, Jyushi...I’ll try.”

“You’ll be back to yourself in no time!” Jyushimatsu enthused with a grin that made Ichimatsu believe it. “Anyway, why don’t I read to you from my book until you fall asleep?”

“I’d like that. Thanks.”

With that, Jyushimatsu settled down right beside Ichimatsu and started reading, angling the book so they could both see inside. Ichimatsu wasn’t particularly interested in baseball facts and stats, but it was comforting being read to, and Jyushimatsu’s surprisingly soft voice soon lulled him into sleep.

It would take time for him to get better, but with Jyushimatsu by his side, maybe the road to recovery wouldn’t be as awful as it seemed.

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU - “Julian and Sebastian’s Big Secret” (Rated NC17)

So, this was a pivotal plot point that everyone was curious about, and which I had included in the last post I posted, but I didn’t like how I left it. That was just the skeleton of what this scene was meant to be in many ways, and that’s been bothering me. So, for anyone who wants to read it the way it was supposed to play out, here it is. It starts when Kurt and Sebastian have to go hunt down Julian who, having been ghosted by Cooper, up and disappears. (1968 words)

Thank you :)

“I even called the house,” Julian says, staring ahead of him with blank eyes, talking sotto voce, as if the two of them aren't standing there beside him, listening to every word. “Emily says he just … he just left. He didn’t pack a bag, didn’t tell anyone where he was going ... just pfft. Gone.”

“Julian, I'm ... I’m so sorry,” Kurt says sincerely, his heart sinking when that light that always lingers in Julian's eyes, the one that blazes hot behind the ice blue of his irises, starts to burn low, threatening to go out.

“So many secrets …” Julian shakes his head, looking down at his phone clutched in his hand as if any moment it might spring to life with a call or a text. “We’re so good at keeping secrets, aren’t we, Sebby?”

Kurt feels Sebastian go rigid beside him.

“Julian …”

Kurt has heard Sebastian say his brother’s name dozens of times, and as many different ways.

He’s said it jokingly.

He’s said it seriously.

He’s spat it like a curse.

He’s said it with affection.

But this was a plea.

He was begging Julian to stop.

“We keep secrets from mom and dad," Julian continues, again to himself as if they aren't there, "secrets from Liv. Hell, the two of you kept the biggest secret of all. You even had me duped, though, apparently that isn't as hard as I thought.”

Julian laughs, sad and hollow, until it becomes a cough.

“Julian …” Sebastian repeats his plea softer, subconsciously searching for and taking Kurt's hand. He squeezes it tight, and Kurt can't help noticing how it shakes.

Julian looks at his brother with a wry smirk, lifting the shot glass in his fist in an unspoken toast and downing it in a single gulp. He slams it down on the bar, the glass bottom hitting the wood with a poignant thunk.

“Now why haven’t you told him yet, Sebby?” he asks, mockingly upbeat the way depressed drunks sound when the liquor finally hits. This Julian is such a departure from the one Kurt normally sees – the suave and sophisticated sexy man whose every word speaks to Kurt’s artistic soul – that he might as well be a complete stranger. Someone who looks so much like Julian that from a distance on a cloudy day he could be mistaken for him, but turns out to not be him.

This transformation frightens Kurt, but Sebastian’s reaction to it concerns him more.

Sebastian squeezes Kurt’s hand a little harder, coming to a conclusion that Kurt has yet to come to.

“Tell me … tell me what?” Kurt asks. He at Julian, then to Sebastian. He would rather hear from Sebastian, but Julian gets to him first.

“Why it is that he went away,” Julian replies, talking to the wood grain in the bar, the bottom of his glass – everything but them. “You know it wasn’t your fault, Sebby. At least, if you tell him, he’ll know exactly how much of a bastard I really am, and you’ll never have to worry about losing him again. Not to me, anyway.”

That last part was meant as a joke, but to Kurt, it feels more like a jab. Not at Kurt, and not at Sebastian. At himself. He’s skewering himself on his own metaphoric sword, one he’s been carrying around with him ever since whatever happened happened.

Whatever he’s about to say, he doesn’t expect Kurt to forgive him, or to speak to him ever again.

Kurt’s eyes meet Sebastian’s, but Sebastian isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at some insignificant spot on the bar. He looks frozen. Numb.

“Come on, Sebby,” Julian says, tears burning in his eyes that Kurt can hear in his voice. “You love him. He loves you. He should know, dontcha think?”

Sebastian still can’t seem to answer. He’s paralyzed, mouth agape, unable to breathe a single word. Kurt has never seen Sebastian like this. Whatever Sebastian hasn’t told Kurt yet, whatever this pain is that the two of them hold on to, that the two of them share, Julian is getting ready to spill it. Kurt won't deny that he wants to know - he wants to help - but this is not how Kurt wants to find out. Not like this.

“Julian, no,” Kurt says, even though he’s sure what he’s saying no to is the one thing he’s wanted to know all summer. “You can’t do this. You can’t hurt your brother like this. It’s not right.”

“No, Kurt! It’s my story, too.” Julian sniffs. “And I … I need you to hear it, to try and forgive me because what I did made this …” He flicks a finger between Kurt and Sebastian “… so much harder for you. And you don’t deserve that.”

Julian had mentioned early on that Sebastian would never want to look weak or vulnerable. Kurt suspects they have that in common. Kurt wonders when the last time Sebastian saw his brother like this was. A while, he assumes, if the way Sebastian’s eyes widen are any indication.

“It’s … it’s fine.” Kurt’s voice is thick, on the verge of panic. He feels like he’s standing in the path of a runaway train with nowhere to run, no way to escape. “Really. Forget about it. I … I forgive you. It’s …”

Julian shakes his head. “Don’t, Kurt. You don’t understand. You can’t even conceive of how bad I hurt him …”

“Julian …” Kurt speaks firmly, putting his free hand on Julian’s knee and squeezing, trying to break through his haze of whiskey and self-pity “… please, stop. I don’t need to know.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees behind him. Kurt turns to look at his boyfriend, expecting him to be looking away, off in the distance like Julian, or maybe down at his shoes, but he’s looking right at Kurt instead. “Yes, you do.”

Kurt slowly shakes his head.

This time, it's Kurt's turn to plead.

"Sebastian ..."

“That’s the spirit, baby brother,” Julian cuts in with a fake laugh and a halfhearted version of his trademark salute, which has been conspicuously missing the past week since he’s been brooding over Cooper. He takes his next shot off the bar and passes it to Sebastian. Kurt watches Sebastian sadly put the glass to his lips, snap his head back, and down the drink, a single tear racing down his cheek and getting lost in his hair. “Let’s tell our story together.”

Julian knocks on the bar as the bartender walks by and the man fills their glasses. He sets one out for Kurt without asking and fills that one, too. Kurt is so stunned he doesn’t have the wherewithal to wave the man away. On his end, the bartender doesn’t seem to mind that Kurt and Sebastian don’t look anywhere close to 21. He looks about as done with life as they all feel right now, or like the bouncer at Scandals when Kurt and Blaine first went, which would be a funny comparison any other time but now. Kurt wishes he could bring it up, break the tension, get a smile out of Sebastian, steer this conversation in a different direction.

But that would be beneath them.

“There was this … guy,” Julian begins, landing on that word as if the crux of their problems is always some guy.” Seb fell so hard for him, so fast. He called my brother all sorts of cutesy nicknames. They were so adorable together. Frankly, it made me kind of sick. But, in the spirit of brotherly love, I wanted to help Sebby land this boy, because back then, he had no game to speak of. I got them some fake IDs, and I took them out drinking.” Another shot appears. Julian downs it, and just as quickly, it’s refilled. Kurt has lost count at this point. “It might have been love. Was it?” Julian squints up at Sebastian for an answer. Sebastian stares but says nothing. Julian shrugs. “I don’t know. It could have been. But right before we went out, I got into a fight with Cooper, and I turned into an asshole. I got them both drunk, and then I seduced this poor boy of Seb’s. Man, I pulled out all the stops for that kid! I mean, I really went overboard. And he fell for it – hook, line, and sinker.” Another shot goes down Julian’s throat. “Sebby, he got mad, sulked in a corner, had one too many to drink. He got real sick and went to the bathroom, and while he was in there, there was … there was this man ...” Julian hiccups.

Warning bells sound off in Kurt’s head, coursing through his body, carrying adrenaline with them, and now his hands begin to shake. “Don’t. Stop. I don’t think I should hear …”

“No,” Sebastian whispers. “Let him … let him finish.”

“When I got to them …” Julian squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking from the sides “… he had Sebastian pinned between the sinks, had his pants unzipped and his hand down them.” Julian’s voice shudders, gaze glues to his glass as if he can see the memory there playing before his eyes. It probably is, Kurt thinks. It probably plays back for him over and over when he shuts his eyes, when he drinks too much … every day that Sebastian was overseas … “He was trying to kiss him, k-kept saying …” Julian clears his throat so violently Kurt can feel his own throat go raw “… kept saying that he wanted to t-taste himself on Seb’s lips.”

And that’s the moment.

The moment when those alarms in Kurt’s head, and all that coursing adrenaline, build in his chest, and explode.

With those words, Kurt’s entire body folds in on itself and freezes solid from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. It creeps underneath his hair, makes his follicles itch as if bugs have been nesting there and are now clawing to get out. A sudden picture of Sebastian pinned against a bathroom wall like Kurt was with Max back in that bar in Columbus fills Kurt’s brain. The man pinning Sebastian there, Kurt fills in with the vilest human being his mind can come up with. And now that that image is there, Kurt knows it’ll never leave him.

Like Sebastian and Julian, he’ll never be free of it.

But back in Columbus, when Max tried to assault Kurt, Sebastian was there. Sebastian saved him. Even though that memory enrages Kurt, it doesn’t paralyze him with fear.

A second later, he feels the phantom of Dave Karofsky’s mouth on his, and his knees almost buckle beneath him.

“So … so, that man … he …”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says with the last bit of voice he has left. “Big brother charged to the rescue about a minute too late.”

“Oh … oh God. Sebastian …” Kurt turns to his boyfriend, to reach out and hold him, but the hand that’s been latched on to his since this saga began slips away. By the time Kurt spots him, he’s nowhere within reach, weeding his way through the crowd to get outside, get some air. “That’s what happened between the two of you?” Kurt says, staring at his boyfriend’s back, fighting between running after him and giving him a minute to pull himself together. “That’s why Sebastian went to Paris? That’s why he stayed away for so long?”

“Yup.” Julian downs his next shot. Kurt’s and Sebastian’s, too, with such effortless fluidity, those glasses might as well be full of water. “That’s the story of how big bad Julian Smythe let his brother down, lost his trust … and broke his heart.”

[leigh-kelly]

A continuation of NYU!AU.

After her surgery, Santana recovers as quickly as Dr. Sedgwick promised and before she and Brittany know it, finals are over and they’re standing on the sidewalk outside of their dorm, their parents’ cars loaded with all of their stuff. Santana feels like she wants to cry but she puts on her bravest face, knowing that Brittany is coming to see her in just a few weeks. After being together every single day, it’s always impossible when they have to separate for the summer, but they’ve done it before and they can do it again.

Santana is glad that she has a few weeks off before camp starts and she ends up doing a lot of stuff with her mom. Every morning and every night though, she FaceTimes with Brittany and that’s how she knows that something is up. Brittany just hasn’t been her usual self and Santana finds herself getting more and more worried with each passing day.

“Britt, are you okay?” Santana finally asks her one night when she’s laying in bed and has her phone propped up on the pillow next to her.

“I...don’t know.” Brittany answers honestly and Santana can see her swallow a lump in her throat before she starts to cry. “I just haven’t felt right since I got home...I don’t know.”

“Are you eating?”

“I’m trying to, I just haven’t felt very hungry.”

“Brittany.”

“I’m not not eating, I promise. I had dinner tonight, I just feel like really weird inside. Maybe it’s because no one’s around to hang out with and my parents and my sister are really busy.”

“I’m really worried about you. It’s not like you to be like this.”

“It’s just...” Brittany sniffles. “Stupid.”

“It’s me, Britt, nothing’s stupid with me.”

“I just don’t feel grounded right now. Maybe it’s just being away from you, I don’t know.”

“I’m gonna come.”

“No, Santana.”

“You’re crying and I’m far away. I’ve been worried about you for weeks and I won’t feel better until I see you. You’re having trouble eating, it’s just...I need to come.”

“You’re spending time with your mom.”

“My mom will understand if I need to see you for a few days. I’m just going to get in the car and drive.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

“It’s really late.”

“I don’t care. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Santana doesn’t wait for Brittany to approve her plan. She tells her that she loves her and she hangs up, glad that her mom is still awake watching TV after she pulls on jeans and a sweatshirt and throws a bunch of things in her duffle bag. Her mom is a little hesitant about her driving so late but Santana promises that she’ll text as soon as she gets to Brittany’s. Of all the things she worries about, Santana is most worried that Brittany will relapse in her eating disorder and if she’s sinking into a state of depression, she feels like it’s imminent. She’s really tired as she drives, but she cracks up her History Chicks podcast and she just keeps going until she’s parked in front of Brittany’s house.

She gets out of the car with her duffle bag and she texts Brittany that she’s there. The door opens and when Brittany comes out into the porch, she sinks into Santana’s arms and just hugs her for a really long time. Santana can tell that they’re both crying but she tries to pull herself together for Brittany’s sake. Brittany has taken care of her though a lot of things and now, she just wants to be the one who’s there to take care of her. When they finally break away from their embrace, Santana can see that Brittany is trembling and she leads her up the stairs to her bedroom, just wanting to be in bed and holding her. Once they get upstairs, she pulls off her jeans so she’s in just her sweatshirt and her underwear and she pulls Brittany beneath the covers of her bed.

“You really didn’t have to come.”

“I’m worried about you, Britt.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m needy.”

“I don’t. I just think you need a little TLC right now.”

“This just hit me out of nowhere. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“I never knew that you were depressed before.” Santana whispers, holding Brittany close.

“I haven’t been, since I started college. It came in waves when I was in high school, but I was mostly so busy that I could ignore it...until things got bad with my anorexia.”

“Have you told your parents?”

“No.” Brittany shakes her head. “I don’t want my mom to worry. I’m gonna snap out of it.”

“I don’t know if this is just something you snap out of. You need—“

“I really don’t want to be lectured, okay? I just want to be close to you right now.”

“Okay, fine. But in the morning, I want to talk about it.”

Santana doesn’t fall asleep, even after Brittany does. She’s sick with worry about her and she’s glad that she made the drive. She and Brittany have been together for nearly two years and she knows that something just isn’t right. The fact that Brittany has suffered from depression in the past isn’t something that she’d told her and she’s just so concerned about everything that she can’t even think about falling asleep. She’s groggy when Brittany wakes up in the morning but she sits up in bed and is wholly grateful that she’s there to help her with whatever she’s going through.

“Denny’s sells crepes now.” She tells Brittany. “Do you want to go get some.”

“Um, yeah, that sounds good.”

They brush their teeth in silence beside each other and Brittany doesn’t even question that Santana is going to drive. If Santana is being honest with herself, she just needs to see Brittany eat something, she needs to know that she’s not starving herself. When they get to the Denny’s, Brittany orders the crepes and a side of hash browns and Santana feels a little satisfied, even as Brittany picks at the whole meal.

“Are you mad at me?” Brittany asks, spearing a piece of crepe with her fork.

“I’m not mad at you at all, I’m just worried.”

“I’m trying, Santana, I really am.”

“If you need me here, I’ll call my boss at the camp and tell her I can’t work this summer.”

“I’m going to be okay.”

“Are you though? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I just haven’t felt like this in a long time.” Brittany bites her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“I really don’t want you to be sorry, I just want us to figure out what we can do for you.”

“I’m going to go back to my old therapist. She was really good at helping me manage stuff. And I promise, I’m trying to eat.”

“How can I leave you when you feel like this?”

“You’re here now. That means a lot.”

“I think you should tell your parents. I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

“They’re so busy...”

“Listen. Baby. I love you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“If you don’t want me to stay for the summer, someone has to know what you’re going through. If you get sick again, I’m never going to forgive myself.”

“It won’t be your fault.”

“Brittany.” Santana sighs. “I’m so worried about you. You struggle even when we’re at school and I live with you. Now your parents are working and your sister is at school. I don’t want to push you because obviously I wasn’t there the first time, but I think you need to be accountable to someone.”

“I don’t want to be defined by this.”

“It’s no one but me and your parents that have to know. No one at school knows but me, everyone that you knew in high school has graduated. I did research on eating disorders—“

“Santana.”

“Britt, you’re the love of my life. I can’t have something bad happen to you, please.”

“In the clinic, they made me keep a food journal.” Brittany whispers. “I started doing that again. I just...felt like I needed to see on paper that I’m eating.”

“Can I ask you...why you didn’t tell me?” Santana asks tentatively, not wanting to break the moment where Brittany is making her confessions.

“I didn’t want you to get worried, you’re far away and it’s just...I think I can control it.”

“I want you to be able to talk to me. I want to help you deal with this.”

“When I was in high school, it was just...something everyone on the cheerleading squad did. We did the master cleanse, we didn’t eat, only I got sick. I never had someone who wanted to talk about this with me.”

“Well I’m here. Even when I’m working at camp, I want you to know that you can call me any time, day or night. You don’t have to fight this alone.”

“When I feel sad it just feels like it’s something I can control and I’m trying not to make it that way.”

“I’m so proud of you for that, I really am.”

“I don’t want to go back to the hospital. It’s been years and I’m doing well.”

“I know you are.” Santana takes Brittany’s hand and kisses the back of it. “That’s why I want to help you to continue doing well.”

After Santana insists on paying the check at breakfast, they go back to Brittany’s parents’ house. Brittany tells Santana that she still feels really tired and considering Santana got there so late and didn’t sleep well, she doesn’t object to laying down on Brittany’s bed. She knows that she’s supposed to sleep on a mattress on the floor next to it, but neither of them really care about the rules—nor do Brittany’s parents, they think. Once they’re in bed, Santana wraps her arms around Brittany and just holds her as close as she can. The idea that Brittany could be sick again really terrifies her and so she holds her like she’s never going to let her go. Brittany is going to get through this, Brittany is going to be just fine, she keeps telling herself until she finally falls asleep.

“Have you two been sleeping all day?” Whitney Pierce appears at the door of Brittany’s bedroom, startling Santana from her slumber.

“Hi Whitney.” She flushes, realizing how closely wrapped up she and Brittany are.

“Mom, shh, I’m sleeping.” Brittany mumbles as Santana tries to sit up.

“We got up and got breakfast.” Santana shrugs. “I got in really late last night.”

“I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“I didn’t either, I just...really missed Brittany and got in the car last night and started driving.”

“Hmm. I see you two can’t keep your hands off each other, as usual.”

“I’m sorry. I should have been sleeping on the mattress.”

“I should just stop even trying to make that rule. I know you two probably just push the beds together at school and do what you’re gonna do.” Whitney rolls her eyes. “At least I know that no one’s gonna her pregnant.”

“Mom, seriously.” Brittany groans. “Sleeping here.”

“I came home from work with lunch. Come downstairs and have grilled cheese and soup from the diner. I know it’s Santana’s favorite.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Whitney.”

“I figured when I saw your car this morning that I’d do something special. I wasn’t sure if you’d be gone by dinner.”

“I’m going to stay a few days, if that’s okay. Once I start camp, it’s harder to get here.”

“You know you’re welcome to come and stay as long as you want.”

Once Whitney leaves the room, Santana uses kisses to help convince Brittany to get up. Even though they had a big breakfast, she wants her to have lunch and Brittany eventually acquiesces, rolling over and putting her feet on the floor. Santana knows that as much as it must drive Brittany crazy, she can’t help but watch her intently as she dunks her sandwich in the soup and slowly takes bites. As for herself, she devours Whitney’s surprise lunch and then she insists that she’ll clean up so her girlfriend’s mom can get back to work. Brittany is still eating when Whitney bids them goodbye and they wave, sitting at the table.

“Santana, I really, really, like, super appreciate you coming here, I hope you know that.”

“Britt, I couldn’t not come, you just sounded so sad last night.”

“I wish I knew what was going on with me. I don’t want to be in this funk.”

“I know.” Santana nods. “But it’s not like you can control it.”

“I try to be so happy all the time, you know? Sometimes it’s just hard.”

“I know. But I think you should call that therapist of yours now. I kinda want to be here when you go, just to know that you’re getting help.”

“Okay...yeah.”

Brittany takes her phone out of her pocket and she’s on the phone with the receptionist for kind of a while. While she’s talking, Santana takes her empty containers and puts the in the garbage before wiping down the table. After Brittany hangs up, she’s quiet and Santana just lets her be in her head while she finishes cleaning up. Santana has never dealt with something like this before so she doesn’t know when to push and when to give Brittany space. She ate two meals, that’s something, so Santana just goes into the living room and turns on the TV, waiting for Brittany to come to her.

“She’s going to see me tomorrow.” Brittany comes into the living room. “I guess when you’ve been hospitalized, you’re kind of an emergency case.”

“I can come with you and sit in the waiting room if you want.”

“Would you? My mom used to come with me and now I feel like I’m kind of too old for that...”

“Of course I will, that’s why I’m here.”

“When do you have to go back?”

“Camp starts on Monday, I think I need to leave on Sunday, but—“

“No, you need to go to work. That still gives us four days.”

“What can I do to help you, Britt? I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

“I just don’t know. It’s all in my brain, it’s not like you can fix it. But you being here really does help.”

“Are you going to tell your mom?”

“I think you’re right about me having to be accountable to someone. I’m just worried, the first time it was really hard on my parents’ marriage. You know, having a sick kid or whatever isn’t easy. I used to feel the tension when they’d come visit me at the hospital.” Brittany sighs.

“They love you.”

“I know. I’ve just like, grown up a lot and I do mostly everything on my own now. Remember when you had surgery and you didn’t want your mom to take off of work?”

“Yeah.”

“It feels like that. I know I’m going to get a million questions and my head and my heart just hurt. I’m also...scared it going to be too much for you.”

“Brittany Pierce, nothing about you will ever be too much for me, okay? I wouldn’t be here right now if I wasn’t committed to helping you get better.”

“Can we just go for a walk or something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Brittany is quiet as they walk down her block. Santana isn’t sure where she wants to go, but she just walks at Brittany’s side. She realizes quickly that they’re just walking in circles but she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps walking. They’re out for about an hour and the Brittany is walking back to her porch, still silent. Santana wonders if Brittany is mad at her, but then they’re behind the door and Brittany is kissing her deeply, more deeply than she has since she got there last night.

“I think you’re my great love.” Brittany murmurs. “The one who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Brittany.”

“I mean it, I think about us in small apartments while you get your PhD. I think about spending a dumb amount of money on a ring for you. I think about us having babies in ten or so years, once you’ve found a tenure track job and you’re a big deal. I think about telling you that I’ve solved the Reimann Hypothesis and you kissing me in our doorway. When I see the future, the biggest thing I see is you.”

“The biggest thing I see is you too. As hard as I’ve worked my whole life, I never thought a woman would be my big future, but here you are.”

“Your future is so much bigger than me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have each other. I’m going to get well, so we get to have that.”

“And I’m going to be there through every step.”

“I know. And you really don’t mind coming with me to the therapist tomorrow?”

“I’ll be right in the waiting room. I promise.”

They don’t have much time before everyone gets home for the day and dinner and games afterward are a boisterous affair. Santana thinks it’s good for Brittany, being distracted from dark thoughts and when they go up to bed, she still has a little smile on her face. Since Brittany’s mom no longer cares about the air mattress, once Santana is in her pajamas and has her face washed and her teeth brushed, she crawls right into bed with her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around her and just hugging her tightly. It doesn’t take long before Brittany starts to cry and Santana presses their noses together, just trying to absorb the sadness.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. You’re here.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

They finally fall asleep wrapped in each other and Santana thinks that she never wants to leave. She’s missed falling asleep wrapped in Brittany and with Brittany so sad, she thinks that leaving on Sunday is going to be the hardest thing she’s ever done. As much as she’s glad for a break from her school work, she can’t help but wish the summer away, wish to be back in a place where she’s with Brittany every day and doesn’t have to worry about her being alone. She thinks her mother would understand, thinks her boss would understand if she stayed here all summer, but she doesn’t want to push Brittany, doesn’t want her to think that she thinks she’s incapable of taking care of herself. Brittany is strong, she’s going to be okay, and that’s the only thing that lets Santana sleep.

Brittany is quiet when they get up in the morning. She pours bowls of cereal and Santana sits across from her to eat. Even though she’s in proximity to her, she wants to give her space so she just eats quietly and scrolls through tumblr on her phone. They get dressed after breakfast and then they’re in Brittany’s car, driving to the therapist’s office. Brittany still doesn’t say anything so Santana lets her stay quiet, figuring maybe she’ll want to talk after. There’s a long wait and Brittany holds Santana’s hand so tightly in the waiting room. Santana knows this must be hard for so she squeezes back, just waiting for Brittany’s name to be called.

While Brittany is in the room, Santana texts her mom to check in. She knows that she’s worried that she left in the middle of the night but Santana just tells her that Brittany is going through some stuff and she’s going to stick around for a few data. She’ll have a real heart to heart with her mom when she gets home but she doesn’t want to do it over text, especially when she might stop any minute when Brittany comes out.

An hour goes by and then Brittany comes out from behind the door, eyes puffy from crying. After she pays her copay, she just wraps her arms around Santana and hugs her for several minutes. Santana whispers that she loves her in Brittany’s ear and then offers to drive home, an offer that Brittany accepts.

“She listened to me talk.” Brittany tells Santana. “She wants me to come back next week. It’s been a few years since I’ve been to her, but she still has all of her notes and just wants to prevent me having a relapse.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I guess so. She said that we never really got to the root of my issue so...that’ll be hard.”

“Can I ask you something, Britt?”

“Uh huh.”

“Remember when you had the chicken pox and you were upset about your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think that could be something that’s bothering you feel down?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know, Santana. I don’t know what makes me feel depressed, I don’t know what makes me look in the mirror and see a monster.”

“You’re seeing that monster now?”

“Blurry, but a little. I’ve been trying to stay away from mirrors.”

“You know I think you’re perfect, right? I don’t even know if that’s what I’m supposed to say. I don’t even know what to do to help you.” Santana blurts out, feeling so helpless as she knows Brittany is spiraling. She pulls over to the side of the road, just needing to take a breath.

“You being here is helping me.”

“I’m so scared, Britt. I’ve never been this scared in my entire life.”

“I don’t want to scare you. I’m sorry, Santana. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry. None of this is your fault. I just want to help you be okay.”

“You’ve done so much to help me be okay.”

“But the thought of me going home and you not eating makes me physically sick. I know you can’t control how you feel, but I need to do something to help.”

“I’m going to keep seeing Dr. Francis. She helped me through the first time. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell my mom.”

“I just...I know you have a complicated relationship with your mom and I don’t want to push anything on you that will upset you. I think I should just stay.”

“You can’t stay, Santana. You’ve made a commitment and I’m not going to let you give that up to watch over me. What if I promise to drive to you if things get bad? I’ll come and I’ll let you make me eat whatever you want.”

“I...I don’t want you to do this for me, Brittany. I want you to get better for you.”

Brittany is silent and Santana hears all she has to say in that silence. She only knows what she’s read on the internet about eating disorders and she understands that Brittany sees herself in a certain way. But she got better once, she can do this again, even if coupled with depression it’s going to make it infinitely harder. She doesn’t understand how the most perfect person she’s ever met could feel this way, but she also knows that in Brittany’s eyes, she’s not all that. She doesn’t see herself the way Santana sees her and it’s the scariest thing in the world.

They get back to Brittany’s house and Brittany wants to lay down. Santana just nods and let’s her go up to her bedroom, understanding that she needs a little space. Santana stays downstairs and she starts to make lunch. She goes through the refrigerator and finds everything to make chicken salad. She knows that Brittany likes that, so she starts to put it together, even going as far as frying bacon because chicken salad always tastes better in toasted bread with bacon. When the sandwiches are done and then kitchen is cleaned up, Santana creeps up the stairs with her food and finds Brittany sitting in front of the computer

“I made lunch.” She murmurs, watching as Brittany turns her head.

“Did you know that when I first got sick, I would look at all of these horrible websites that told me what I should do?”

“I’ve heard of them before...” Santana trails off, not wanting to ask the question if that’s what Brittany is looking at now.

“I don’t want to feel like this, babes.”

“I know you don’t.”

“I just feel...fat.”

“I know.” Santana nods, knowing that telling her she’s not doesn’t matter, knowing that what she sees in the mirror is totally different than who she really is. “I’m here.”

“I want to go back to New York. I feel better in New York. Being here in this house, in this room, it’s just a lot for me.”

“You could come to Lima for the summer, if that would help.”

“I don’t know what to do. I’m spiraling and you feel like the only thing that’s real.”

“Whatever you want, we’ll do. If you need to go back to New York, I’ll talk to my dad and see if he can help us find a place. God, Brittany, I love you so much and I want to do whatever we can do to make this less difficult for you.”

“I just want to feel normal.”

Santana puts the food down and wraps her arms around Brittany, just feeling so helpless. She really means it, she’ll do whatever it takes to make Brittany okay, no matter what she has to sacrifice. She’s always been awkward and nerdy, but she’s never known what it feels like to be a stranger in her own body. It scares her that Brittany feels that way, it makes her feel like she hasn’t done a good enough job as her girlfriend, even though she rationally knows that it’s not the case. She feels Brittany break down in her arms and she just hugs her tighter, wanting her to feel safe.

“I should want to throw you down on the bed and make love to you after what an amazing girlfriend you’ve been, but all I feel is empty.”

“You’re going to get better, Britt. I know it. Just tell me what I can do.”

“It’s enough knowing you’re here, even if here means in Lima.”

“I’m scared to leave you.”

“I’m scared for you to leave me too. But I’m going to see Dr. Francis twice a week. I’m going to eat, I have to.”

“I know.” Santana nods. “And I know it’s hard.”

“I just want to lay down.”

“Eat a little first? Then I’ll lay down with you?”

Brittany nods and pulls out of Santana’s embrace. She picks at the sandwich for a little bit and then eventually, she eats half of it. Before Santana lays down with her, she waits, and a half hour later, Brittany eats the other half. Santana can see in Brittany’s face that she’s exhausted and they get into bed together, crawling under the covers and pulling them tight around themselves. Brittany burrows into Santana and Santana just holds her tight, unaccustomed to bring the big spoon like she has been since she got to Akron. Brittany falls asleep, but Santana can’t, just filled up with all kinds of worry.

“I love you, Britt.” She whispers against her sleeping head. “I love you so much.”

[amarauder]

chapter four ❥ | original

"Y/n!" A familiar female voice was calling, and Y/n turned around and screamed, "Bella!"

"Hey n/n," greeted Arabella, watching her friend's h/c hair soar in the wind as she approached her. "Nice vacation, eh?"

"Best I've ever had," said Y/n, smiling. She was starting to remember the events of the summer.

Y/n was humming to herself as she watched the birds sing sweet songs on a nearby tree. It was always a hobby of hers, to watch birds. Suddenly, out of nowhere, something whooshed by, causing her to nearly fall of the edge of her bed. Now soaring through the sky were a couple of broomsticks. Y/N grinned, thinking that it was probably Arabella coming to save her from Petunia. Maybe Violet and Jennifer, her two other friends at Hogwarts, had come too.

As soon as she opened her window to let them in, it was no other than James Potter, her arch-nemesis at Hogwarts. Of course, he wasn't as bad as Severus Snape, the avid Gryffindor-hater, who also, unexpectedly and unfortunately, had an enormous crush on Lily.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" she hissed, glaring at the boy.

"I'm allowed to save you from y/s/n, aren't I?" He grinned that lop-sided grin of his. James Potter was your typically average popular boy, who was entering his second year like Y/n. He had jet-black hair, which ran untidy all over the place, called "the untamed forest" by Y/n. He also had soft brown eyes, which shined with mischief and bravery. He was thin and wiry, but he was very tall. Followed by him was none other than his first-hand mate, sidekick, and best friend, Sirius Black. Sirius looked a lot like his best friend, except he had longer black hair and grey eyes that had a mysterious glitter in them, but nevertheless, they were just as mischievous as James'.

Remus followed his two friends, smiling at Y/n gently. He was liked best of all among the girls (Y/n's group of friends). He had light brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a thin, tired face. Yet he had a gentle air around him, perhaps a bit eerie, but he was always so gentle, so kind, like a great healer. Peter, sadly, was gliding jerkily through the air, trying to hold on to his dear life. James and Sirius offered to let him share a broomstick with either of them, but Peter jauntily refused. He seemed to want to prove to Lily, who was the smartest witch of their age, no doubt, that he was something. Maybe not a lot, but something.

Arabella, Violet, and Jennifer had come soaring right after the boys and landed in Y/n's room as well. They rode on a broomstick – Lily assumed it was a large, family-sized one, and greeted Y/n with hugs.

"Girls," Sirius had muttered, "always showing such affection." But he had taken the statement back right away after Arabella gave him some "affection" of her own.

Y/n laughed. "Yep. Best summer I ever had."

"Best summer you'll ever have," corrected Arabella. "It's obvious the first summer after first year is more special than any other."

"Sure Bells—hey, there's Sirius!" She emphasized the last word, sending her best friend in fits.

Arabella and Sirius had their little "snog session", as Y/n often called it, and her e/c/s (Eye color that represents a stone, ex: Green emerald, blue sapphire, etc.) eyes traveled around until it sank into a pair of brown ones.

"James Potter," she said coolly.

"Y/n L/n," James said, just as coolly. Then he grinned again and motioned toward Remus, who was desperately trying to fight off a flirting Jennifer. "Looks like Dean's got it bad."

"Shut up, Potter," snapped Y/n irritably. "It's not every day Jennifer gets taken with a boy. In fact, she hates boys so much that I'm surprised she's even talking civilly to Remus."

"Violet's paired off with our Peter, too," said James, pretending to sigh wistfully, as he watched Peter awkwardly compliment a giggling Violet.

"Everyone's paired off," replied Y/n gloomily, and she looked rather sad.

"No one's as cute a couple as Y/n and James Potter," interrupted Sirius, walking towards them with a grin. He ducked as a shower of sparks hit him, and straightened up, with Arabella cuddling next to him.

"Sirius Black, don't you dare—" began Y/n, but James kissed Y/n unexpectedly. Y/n screamed and started to threaten him, but he just grinned and winked at Sirius.

"All right, what's going on here?" asked Y/n loudly.

Arabella shrugged. "Who knows. Boys are weird anyway. They never have an explanation for any of their actions."

An exclamation of "Hey!" came from the two boys, and both girls grinned.

"Let's go find Jennifer and Violet," suggested Y/n.

When both girls left, Sirius smiled at his friend. "So...you think Y/n L/n is totally gorgeous?"

James glowered at him. "Did I say that?"

"You want to."

He groaned. "Sirius, leave me alone."

Sirius shrugged. "Fine. But I'm telling you—if I break up with Bella, then I'm going after Y/n."

James waved his hand impatiently. "Whatever."

"Hey, show more consideration for your wife!"

James' jaw, literally, dropped to the floor. "B-but h-how d-did you know?" he stuttered. Then he frowned and asked, "Did L/n tell you?"

"Nope. I—er—accidentally overhead your conversation with Dumbledore. But y/n already knows that I know."

James groaned. "Why am I always the last to know everything?"

"Because, Jamie-boy, everything bad always happens to you first."

He snorted. "Yeah—like falling 'in love' with Deanna Jackson, probably the most hated girl in Gryffindor."

"She's attractive."

"Not to me."

"Ah, now only going for the h/c, are we?" Sirius smirked.

"You go for the brown-curled ones," retorted James. Then his smile widened. "Didn't like Arabella too much on the first day back on the train, did we?"

Sirius colored. "None of your business, James Potter."

James pretended to gasp. "Is Sirius Black being...*gasps from the audience*...serious?"

His best friend shook his head and said bleakly, "Ha, ha."

"What's so funny?" y/n had come back, closely tailed by her three friends.

"Nothing," James muttered.

"You're always so shy around y/n, James, are you sure nothing's up?" asked Arabella slyly.

Violet coughed, which made Jennifer automatically say, "Remus, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"No." Remus was right behind James and Sirius, causing the latter to jump. "I will not, Miss Jennifer Dean."

As if expecting it all along, Jennifer's face was impassive.

"We're going to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor," said Arabella hurriedly. "We have—er—a project to finish." Then they all scurried off to the ice cream parlor, leaving Y/n and James alone, standing there.

"They planned this whole thing up!" cried y/n angrily. "I knew Bella was up to something—she was writhing and squirming all over the place at breakfast."

James stared at y/n. Sirius was right, he thought. Y/n L/n is gorgeous. Most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life – but we're still enemies, of course. He thought he heard a snort in the back of his head that said, "Yeah, right, Jamie-boy."

"I'm not Jamie-boy and I don't think y/n L/n is gorgeous!" Y/n stared in surprise at James' outburst, and the boy blushed furiously.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

The whole lot of Diagon Alley was staring at him. Many of the bystanders were Hogwarts students, and some of them snickered and a few whispered to each other that James Potter, the most wanted and admired boy in school, liked Y/n L/n, the prettiest and cleverest girl at Hogwarts.

"Er—" Y/n was staring at James, puzzled. No one had said that she was gorgeous—probably Sirius had put a charm on him to repeat the words "Jamie-boy, you know Y/n L/n is gorgeous" in his head.

"Shall we join our friends?" asked James, still red in the face. As they went to the ice cream parlor where their friends were, many girls flirted with James non-stop; fluttering their eyelashes and giggling like idiots. Y/n looked thoroughly depressed by all the attention that she was getting as well. Nearly every boy—even fourth and fifth years—were staring at her with a mixture of astonishment and intensity. Suddenly, Severus Snape, the famous hater of Gryffindor, had come up to her, looking into her eyes pleadingly.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed happily. "How pleasant to see you!" He eyed her body in approval. Then he looked over at James and frowned.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I've come to buy my school supplies, Snape, you idiot," snapped James. He was obviously in a very bad mood. "Why, is that illegal?"

"It looks like you were harassing my Y/n," spat the greasy-haired boy. He emphasized on the 'my'.

"For heavens' sake, I'm not yours, Snape!" cried Y/n. She had enough of the oily Slytherin as well.

Snape was taken aback. Y/n had never lost control like that to him before. He concluded that Potter had indeed messed around with the poor girl's brain and decided to make an offer involving improper advances to L/n before Evan Rosier could find him.

"So, y/n," he began, "would you like to have a 'visit' to my dormitory today?"

"Thinking of shagging her, Snape?" spat James menacingly. Snape was taken aback.

"Well!" he exclaimed, but his tone was unusually high. "I certainly do not know how you came up with such a theory, Potter, but I can assure you—"

"No thank you, Severus," snapped y/n, "I would not like to visit your dormitory. No doubt that you do want me to crawl into bed with you, and McGonagall or Hurst catching me. Besides, it's against school rules: no Inter-House common room visits."

James sighed in relief. For a fleeting moment, he thought that Y/n would accept Snape's offer just to make him jealous. But he wouldn't be, of course – would he?

"Hello? Earth to James!" It was Sirius, and he was grinning like a maniac.

James was back on earth again. Then he broke into a tirade.

"How dare you leave me alone with L/n, Sirius Black! What were you thinking?"

Sirius was taken back at James clearly furious face. "It wasn't my plan, it was my Bella's and all her friends' plan. I swear I had nothing to do with it!" His face was pale as James' cold face stared furiously at his.

Finally, James gave up. Maybe Sirius was telling the truth for once in his life. "Fine, forget about it."

Sirius grinned. "That's Jamie-boy for you. Always had a big heart."

"Sirius, do me a favor and stop the sappy stuff."

"Whatever you say."

James decided to change the subject. After all, they were going nowhere with this conversation. "Did you ever wonder why Remus disappears every month?"

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Didn't he say his mother was ill and he had to go home to see her?" he asked, almost doubtfully.

"Yeah—but Dumbledore wouldn't allow a student to go home just because his mother was ill, would he?"

"No...but Dumbledore's always been the kind and understanding headmaster, so I wouldn't count on it. But it's funny, really, how poor Remus looks like he doesn't get enough sleep at all. I'm sure if he did go home to visit his mother, he would get a good rest."

James' head snapped up. "I think I've got it!"

"Got what?"

"The answer to Remus' mysterious disappearances!"

"Have you? What is it?"

"Well...I don't exactly have the answer, but I know how to find out. Here, give me a piece of parchment."

Sirius handed his best friend a piece of parchment, wondering vaguely if his friend had gone bonkers. James was scribbling down on his parchment eagerly, and Sirius leaned in to see what he was writing.

Remus disappears every month.

Remus seems awkward whenever we bring up the subject of why he disappears, so it must be something he really doesn't want us all to know.

I notice that whenever he disappears, the moon is full because he always glances at it wistfully.

Sirius stared at the piece of parchment. "What does this all mean?" he asked eagerly.

James shrugged. "I have no idea."

A week later, it was September 1st, and King's Cross was jammed with hundreds of Hogwarts students trying to get on Platform 9 ¾. Y/n was pushing her cart with her trunk and owl, Hannah, in it, while struggling to have her mum stop crying.

"Mum," she sighed, exasperated. "Stop crying. I'll come home for the Christmas and Easter holidays if you want."

Her mother had stopped crying at once. "Would you, dear? Yes...I'll stop crying; you coming home will do me good..." She sniffed.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Well, I have to go, I still have fifteen minutes before the train leaves."

Her dad turned to Y/s/n, who was, as usual, sulking at a corner. "Y/s/n, say goodbye to your sister," he said sternly.

"No," replied Y/s/n defiantly. "Why should I? She said she was coming home for Christmas and Easter holidays."

Before the L/n's could say another word, Y/n pushed her cart between Platforms Nine and Ten, hearing distinct yells and noises behind her. Probably Mum and Dad yelling at Y/s/n for being so 'rude' to her sister, she thought, grinning. She ran with all her might through the barrier, until the words "Platform nine-and-three-quarters" were hanging above her head.

"Y/n! There you are!" It was her best friend, Arabella, calling and waving to her frantically. Behind her, Jennifer and Violet, Y/ n's other two friends, we're happy to see her again.

"Hey Bella, Jen, Violet!" greeted Y/n enthusiastically. "Sorry I couldn't get here earlier; Mum was crying her eyes out again. 'Fraid I have to go home over the Christmas and Easter holidays—promised Mum."

Arabella's face looked downcast, but she brightened up again. "So...will you and James get together again?"

"No." Y/n sighed in resentment and impatience. Why were her friends so caught up in matchmaking them?

"Y/n Flower!" She turned around to see James Potter's circle of Marauders run towards her in excitement.

"Hello Y/n," greeted Remus affectionately. Y/N had always liked Remus best of them all; he was always so gentle and understanding.

"Hi Remus," said Y/n, smiling at the tired boy. Then she turned to Peter and Sirius. "Hey, Peter, Sirius."

They both greeted her, and Y/n purposely ignored the fourth member and ringleader of them all.

"Hi L/n." It was James, and he was sporting his usual lopsided grin.

"Potter," was all Y/n said. She disliked – no, hated, James Potter from the moment she met him a year ago at King's Cross. The six other friends sensed a hatred silence between them and stood awkwardly aside.

Then James nudged Sirius, and the boys filed into the train and went in search of an empty compartment. The girls found an empty one just at the end of the train and collapsed into the seats tiredly.

"Y/s/n bore you to death, N/n?" asked Arabella, yawning.

"Yep. She wouldn't say goodbye to me at the train station, so I think I heard my mum and dad yell at her when I was out of earshot."

All four girls laughed. The compartment door slid open and the four Marauders came barging in.

"We need to sit here," said James shortly. "All the others are full."

"Are you sure you're just saying that so you can sit with Y/n, James?" asked Arabella sweetly. James colored and glared at her.

"Can we?" asked Sirius hopefully. He looked mighty tired from all the searching.

"Sure, why not?" Y/n scooted over a seat, as did the rest of the girls.

"Thanks." The boys all sat down, looking exhausted.

As time passed, the train was speeding up quickly. The countryside surroundings had passed and they were going deeper and deeper into a thick forest. Remus, Violet, Jennifer, and Peter were fast asleep, so Y/n, Arabella, James, and Sirius started a discussion about Remus' mysterious disappearances.

The girls looked at each other apprehensively. "We—er—know what's wrong with Remus," said Y/n uncomfortably.

James and Sirius stared at them. "Well—go on—tell us! We don't care if it's something terrible."

Finally, Y/n said, "Remus—Remus is a..." She kept her voice low so only the four of them could hear, "a werewolf."

James and Sirius went pale. Then James shrugged indifferently and said, "How come he's never told us before?"

Arabella was astonished. "You mean, you don't—you don't care?"

The boys were annoyed. "Why would we care? It's not his fault!"

Y/n and Arabella looked at each other delightedly. "He never told any of us because he was afraid that we'd dump him as a friend. Of course, we'd never, ever..."

"How'd you girls figure it out?" asked Sirius curiously.

"Y/n," answered Arabella simply. "She's the genius, you know."

Y/n shrugged. "I just figured out that Remus leaves at every full moon, and the only thing that does that is a werewolf. Jen and Violet know too. Bit of a nasty shock for Jen at first, but she was only wondering, like yourselves, why Remus never told any of us."

"Remus is a great friend, he doesn't think we're that shallow, does he?"

"Many people are frightened of werewolves, you know."

"But—we're still his friends—"

"All right, end of discussion!" said Arabella loudly, causing both Remus and Peter to stir. Remus sat up, rubbing his eyes, and glancing around at all the serious faces.

"What is this, a funeral?" he asked, trying to make a joke out of it. When he saw that no one laughed or budged, he asked, "why the long faces?"

"Why didn't you ever tell us, Remus?" asked James quietly.

"Tell you what?" asked Remus, confused.

"Tell us that you're a werewolf," finished Arabella quietly.

Remus nearly fell out of his seat. "How did you...how did you..." he spluttered.

"Mostly thanks to Y/n," informed Jennifer coolly.

Remus was shaking harder than ever. Y/n's face softened and she frowned at the angry James and Sirius and nudged them hard in the ribs.

"Remus," she began gently, "we don't care if you're a werewolf. You're still the same sweet Remus we've all known, and it doesn't make much of a difference what you are."

"But..." Remus looked around at James, Sirius, and Peter, and they were all grinning. Then he looked over to the girls and they were smiling as well.

"I thought I'd lose you guys as friends," he said slowly. "I mean, I've never really had friends before because my whole neighborhood knew that I was a werewolf, so they forbid the children to go near me. Not that any of the kids wanted to; they were afraid of me, too. So when I came to Hogwarts, I found you guys and you all are the best friends I've ever had. So if you found out...what I was, you'd dump me."

"We'd never," the seven chorused together serious. Even Sirius was looking solemn for a moment.

Remus grinned. "You guys are the best."

"You mean the girls are the best," corrected Y/n, grinning in feigned mock shock.

"The girls are the best, then," he said, smiling widely at his friends' shocked faces.

"Boys are better than girls and you know it," retorted Sirius, pretending to be angry with Y/n.

"Aww...you know Bella can change your perspective on anything," mocked Violet. They all looked at her in surprise. Violet was usually the quiet and sensible one of the lot.

"Good job, Violet," lauded Jennifer. "Soon you can properly mock the dog-boy."

The four girls burst out laughing, and even the boys sniggered. Sirius flushed.

"Hey, at least half my gang aren't flowers," he said quickly.

Y/n and Violet looked at each other. It was true, but they had never noticed it before.

Then Arabella spoke up, smiling flirtatiously at Sirius. "Sirius, dear, you really must calm yourself down. These are my friends you're mocking!"

Sirius gave a low bow. "But of course, m'dear Figg."

Everyone laughed. Then their compartment door slid open and Severus Snape came in with Rosier, Avery, Lestrange, Wilkes, and one other boy with slick blond hair that they didn't know. Snape was looking very authoritative and oily as he entered.

"My dear Y/n," he began, smirking. "Wouldn't you like to join us?"

Y/n stared at Snape wearily. "No thank you, Severus. I'd rather hang with my friends if you'd be so kind..."

"Told you this wouldn't work, Severus," muttered the blonde boy. "What were you thinking anyway?"

"Y-y/n's nice," stuttered Snape. "Better than most Gryffindors, anyway."

Y/n stood up angrily. "Is that what you think of me as, Snape? Just 'better than most Gryffindors'? Well, let me tell you something! If you're not sticking around here to be friendly, then leave."

The rest of the friends stared at the h/c. They had never seen her temper rise like that – not even with James.

Avery stiffened. "Come, Snape, Lucius, we're not sticking here to associate with Mudbloods."

James jumped and whipped out his wand. "What did you call her?"

Avery sneered. "A Mudblood. Got a problem with that, Potter?"

"It's not a problem I only have. It's a problem that nearly the whole school would have, if they heard you – except with your dirty House, of course."

Lestrange stood right in front of Avery and narrowed his eyes at the black-haired boy. "Slytherin is not a dirty House, Potter. For your information, I think that your stupid House, Gryffindor, should really be eliminated from Hogwarts. There's really no need to have Mudbloods in the school. Oh, and your headmaster should be rid of too – the nasty Mudblood and Muggle-lover, Dumbledore."

Sirius suddenly stood up and shook with anger. "Don't you dare insult Dumbledore! He's the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had! So who do you idiots want as headmaster? Barty Crouch?"

Wilkes, who was watching the conversation, spat, "Of course not, he's outspoken against the Dark Side, that's not we want –" He was cut off by a distinct "Shh!" from his friends.

"Trying to get Y/n to join your precious Dark Side, are you?" shouted Arabella. "Well, I won't have any of that!" She furiously drew out her wand and pointed it at the Slytherins. A few red and gold sparks shot out of them and the sulking Slytherins left the compartment.

"That was brilliant, Bella dear!" cried Sirius. "Those good for nothing ba—"

James coughed, knowing that Sirius was going to let his language get the better of him. Sirius blushed and said quickly, "Er—sorry 'bout that."

"I'm glad that we won't be seeing much of them at Hogwarts," said Jennifer defensively.

"There's still Double Potions," said Y/n moodily. Everyone groaned.

"And we have to eat meals in the same place as them," added Peter.

"Peter!" they all shouted.

"Oops, sorry."

The eight of them all laughed again, waiting for a fresh new year to start at Hogwarts.

"Look at this! A week after school starts and our homework pile is piling up!" complained James Potter, throwing up his hands in frustration. "How does L/n finish all this?"

"She doesn't procrastinate like you do, Jamie-boy," said a work-absorbed Sirius Black lazily, as he tried to concentrate on remembering all the Potions antidotes. Finally, he threw up his hands in the air like James had done, causing the new first years to be startled.

"God, Hurst is trying to kill us, he is! How does he expect me to remember all these?" Sirius shoved a long piece of parchment into James, revealing a whole long list of complicated Potions antidotes.

"He doesn't," said James. "He's just trying to make everything harder so that we can all fail. Then when he sees the Slytherins failing, he can just change their answers so it'll look like they memorized them better than us. 'Course, L/n isn't clever enough to figure this out so she studies anyway."

"Stupid git," muttered Sirius. James looked delighted.

"You mean L/n?"

"No, you moron, I was talking about Hurst!"

"Oh." James sounded dejected and went back to scanning his own Potions notes.

"Hey Jamie-boy, can I borrow your Potions notes?" asked Sirius, after a while of silence.

"Why?" asked James suspiciously. "Don't you have your own?"

"Of course I do," snapped Sirius. "I just want to use yours, since I take the worst notes in Potions. In fact"—he showed James his Potions 'notes'—"I don't really have much on those stupid antidotes."

"Sirius, you don't have anything on them!" cried James. "What do you do all Potions class? Drool at Arabella?"

"Pretty much."

"Wait 'till L/n hears this and she'll have a fit."

"I'm so scared."

"Yeah, right you are."

"Hey, L/n has a pretty high temper gauge, you know!"

"I know," said James, wincing, as he remembered several painful experiences.

"Will you guys shut up for a minute?" hissed Remus, impatiently, rubbing his forehead in concentration. "I'm trying to memorize these antidotes here!"

"Sorry, Remus," apologized James. "But don't you realize what Hurst is trying to make us do?"

"Fail?" suggested the tired boy.

"Exactly. So we shouldn't study!"

"Er—right."

"I think that you should study for everything," said a stern voice from behind them. A weary-looking h/c was glaring at the four boys.

"Hi Y/n!" said Sirius enthusiastically. "How're you doing today?"

"Fine," was all Y/n managed to say, before she glared at James.

"You would do a bit better if you actually studied," she snapped ferociously.

James was taken aback. "Aww, come on Y/n, you think the high and mighty James Potter would actually study?"

"No. But you should...if you're going to pass the second year." Y/n smirked.

"I'm calling Deanna!" whined James.

Y/n snorted. "Think again, boy, because Deanna's with another boy now." She pointed to a corner of the common room, where Deanna was flirting with a blushing fourth year.

"Who's that?" snarled James.

"I think that's Kevin Patil," replied Remus, squinting at the couple.

"You should've paid more attention to her, Jamie-boy. Now she's dumped you for that fourth year."

"Whatever." James looked extremely put-off at the prospect of a girl dumping him but began to hyperventilate at the announcement of Quidditch try-outs at the end of the week.

"We certainly need better players!" he roared enthusiastically, as he dragged Sirius to the battered bulletin board. They were in need of one Chaser, one Beater, and a Keeper since the three of those players who played last year graduated from Hogwarts.

"Quidditch," said James loudly, so that Y/n could hear him, "is something that L/n cannot do."

"Shut up, Potter," snapped Y/n  grumpily, as she studied her Potions notes again.

"L/n insulted me!" cried James, causing several girls to look up and glare at Y/n.

"Potter is an egotistical idiot," muttered y/n, before retiring to her dormitory for the night. Arabella followed her but shot daggers at James before walking up the staircase.

Sirius frowned after her. "Now look what you did, Jamsie. The girls are turning against us."

"Shh! Sirius, I have a brilliant plan to help Remus."

Sirius' eyes widened. "How?" he whispered excitedly.

James showed him his careful Transfiguration notes that he took that day and whispered excitedly, "Animagi."

The two began whispering and plotting excitedly until Peter stepped up to them, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

The two boys looked at each other and let Peter in on the conversation. After what seemed like hours of plotting, they decided to wake up Remus and tell him their "ingenious" plan.

"Remus!" The three boys shook Remus, who was asleep in an armchair by the fire.

"Wha—What?" he murmured sleepily. The boys then began discussing their plan to Remus, who listened, wide-eyed.

"You mean—become Animagi? For...for me?"

"Of course," stated James. "Why is that so unusual?"

"You'd really do that for me?"

"'Course." The three boys nodded in assent.

Remus broke into a true smile that lit up his whole face. "You guys are the best friends anyone could ever have."

It was just another day in Gryffindor Tower with Y/n L/n and James Potter screaming the House down. Their friends sighed, knowing that there was no way they'd get together—even as friends.

"When do you think they'll become friends?"

"Never, I expect."

"For some reason, I can imagine them both being Head Boy and Girl."

"Funny really—that is imaginable."

The six friends were huddled together in a plot to get y/n and James as friends. Arabella, who knew Y/n all too well, and Sirius, who knew James all too well, said that it was impossible.

"They'll get along in their fourth or fifth year," said Arabella lazily, yawning. "Our Y/n is too stubborn. She's one flower that's not iris-like and pure – at least most of the time."

Meanwhile, Y/n and James were on the other side of the common room, screaming at each other as usual.

"If you didn't dye my hair blue, then I wouldn't have poured black ink on your Transfiguration homework! Besides, you should be grateful it was a subject you're decent at; if it was Charms, then you'd take all night to re-do it!"

"Why can't you be like the other girls?" shot back James. "Then you wouldn't want revenge from me all the time!"

"Because I don't want to be 'another flower of the valley'!" shouted Y/n. "Do you want me to be someone like Deanna?"

"Good point," muttered Sirius from the armchair.

"I HEARD THAT SIRIUS BLACK!" yelled James, who suddenly cast his attention on his best friend.

Arabella tutted loudly. "And to think he could hear with all that commotion he's making."

"I'M WARNING YOU FIGG! ONE MORE WORD AND I'LL..."

They heard Y/n giggle. "Come on, Potter, you're scaring the common room." She nudged her head to a group of frightened-looking first years and a pair of harassed-looking sixth years.

"Hush L/n," snapped James.

"Ooh, touchy."

"Shut it, L/n," repeated James, growling.

"Would you tackle a girl?" asked Y/n sweetly, batting her eyelashes at James.

"If it was someone like you, yes."

"That hurts."

"Good."

"Would you really hurt a lady?" asked Y/n, pouting. Boys around the common room were staring at Lily intensely.

"Stop staring!" hissed Arabella, waving her arm around the common room.

"And if you think my Bella's pretty, she's already taken," added Sirius.

Remus and Jennifer burst out laughing, and Violet smiled.

"You guys are crazy," stated Y/n, collapsing into a squashy armchair by the fire, looking tired.

"Hey L/n, tired of our fight?" called James, smirking.

"Yeah, Potter, I'm tired of looking at your face the whole time," replied Y/n wearily, with a huge grin on her face.

James frowned. "Hey!"

"Yeah...you'll improve if you'd actually brush your hair once a week." The girls giggled and James was angry.

"Hey, you try to brush down hair like mine! It runs in the family!"

"And to think why girls fall for you," said Y/n, pretending to sigh with confusion.

"Hey N/n, you said yourself that you thought James was cute and that you knew why girls were all over him," said Sirius suddenly, his eyes gleaming. He winked at James from across the common room and James' frown slowly turned into a smile again.

"I was still a first year," snapped Y/n, impatiently. "Besides, you guys should be working on the homework Professor McGonagall gave us; it's not going to do it itself—"

"—unless you do it for us," finished James with an air of triumph.

"How about this for an answer—no."

"I'll do your Transfiguration homework if you do my Charms."

Y/n thought for a minute. "No."

"Come on, you're almost as bad as Violet at the subject."

"Hey!" cried Violet. "I'm not that horrible, you're just—"

"Shut it, Potter, I'm not that bad. At least—I'm behind Remus on it."

"Peter's better," sniggered Sirius.

Y/n glared at him. "You're supposed to be on my side, Black! You Benedict Arnold!"

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Benedict who?"

"Never mind, Muggle stuff."

"Benedict Arnold was a traitor for the American Revolution," piped up Remus. Everyone around the room stared at him and he cowered lower. "Er—I read Muggle books," he supplied hopefully.

"Please enlighten us Professor Lupin!" squeaked James.

Remus stared at him. "Professor Lupin? Where'd that come from?"

James shrugged. "L/n and I saw this thing that Dumbledore had that showed some of the future, and you were the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. And you, Sirius"—he looked around at his friend—"you're some kind of an infamous person because whenever people said your name, they shivered and frowned."

"Cool!" said Sirius enthusiastically.

"It is not cool, Sirius," said Y/n, joining in the conversation. "Even"—she shuddered—" even the Harry kid, who's supposed to be our son, called you 'Black'. And James said he wanted you as godfather!"

Sirius frowned. "Really?"

"Yep."

"So..."

"You're probably in Azkaban and then escaped," put in James.

Y/n shot him a nasty look. "That's something nice to think about."

"Isn't it? Sirius Black, the most infamous prisoner Azkaban has ever held! Has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Sirius Black...hey, you know, Sirius-boy, your name even sounds like a criminal one!"

"Er—right. And what's up with Sirius-boy? That's one hell of a lame nickname, Jamie-boy."

"See! See! You call me Jamie-boy, so I..." James trailed off, grinning evilly. "How about Siri-boy?"

"I like it!" exclaimed Arabella, who suddenly had awakened from being asleep on their conversation. "It has a nice ring to it...Siri-boy."

"Bells." Sirius pouted.

Y/n smiled and ruffled Sirius' trim black hair. "Well, I better get back to work. Got that nasty Transfiguration essay to do." She groaned and went back to her table, which was spread out with heaps of parchment and heavy books.

Arabella saw James glaring at Sirius with jealousy and teased, "Aww...jealous, are we?"

James' head immediately shot back to her. "Jealous?"

"You're jealous that Y/n ruffled Sirius' hair. You want N/n to do it to you, do you?"

James blushed, though it was true. For some reason, he always felt as though he should pull a prank or tease Y/n when she was around, while he didn't feel anything when other girls were around.

"Considering, are we?" Arabella smirked.

"Considering to tell you (1) you're an idiot or (2) you're a mind-reader."

"Option 2 is a nice choice," said Arabella, grinning devilishly. "So...you were thinking that Y/n is a gorgeous h/c?"

"Eh...no."

Arabella snorted and muttered something like "egotistical idiot". Then she leaned over and whispered into James' ear, "Go to y/n and tell her that I have something to tell her."

James was annoyed. "Why would I do that?"

"Because...I'll give you a hug. Or a kiss."

"That makes me even more disgusted."

"Okay fine, do it and I'll give you five Knuts."

"You're on!" Then James scuttled towards Y/n, who was writing her last sentence, finishing her Transfiguration essay.

"Hey L/n."

Y/n looked up. "What do you want, Potter? Come to bother me again."

"Er—actually, Figg over there wants to talk to you."

"Oh. And you did this for her? Aww...you have a little crush on my best friend?"

James made a face. "No. Because she'd pay me five Knuts if I did it for her."

Y/n  gave a disappointed sigh. "All right then." She left her Transfiguration essay on the table, the ink still glistening, and went to find Arabella. "And don't you dare touch my essay, Potter! If you mess it up, you'll have to write it again for me!"

James, indeed, was planning to ruin Y/ n's essay, but a thought of doom occurred to him. If he did destroy it, Evans would make him rewrite the essay for her. And if he refused, she'd try and curse him, but if he still refused to write that essay...then she'd probably tell McGonagall. And McGonagall liked Evans better.

"Fine, I won't ruin it!" yelled James.

Y/n smirked and focused her attention on Bella again. "What is it you want to tell me, Bells?"

Arabella looked around the common room to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Then, satisfied, she smiled at Y/n serenly.

"How about we get Remus and Jennifer together?"

Y/n's rosy mouth opened in surprise, but it quickly parted into an evil grin identical to the one Arabella was wearing on her face. "You're on, girl."

"And then they could help me get you and James together."

"You will not do that Arabella Figg! Or I won't help you get Jen and Remus together."

Arabella sighed. "Oh fine, I won't. But it was a nice thought at first."

a/n; So...how did you like this chapter? I thought it was a bit weird and sorry if I didn't include much of the summer! I will include it for the second years and the rest.

tags; @thecurlyhairedwinchester

[anna-catherine-bruno]

Mental Illness & Following Jesus

It was one of my goals in 2019 to be more open. It was also one of my goals to get back to making these blog posts. So in light of Bell Let’s Talk, I’ve decided to do just those two things.

I’m not sure exactly where to start, but I know I cannot be the only Christian who is confused and tired by the way many believers approach mental health. I tend to get two overarching reactions when talking about mental health (as I do quite often as a psych undergrad student); one response entails speculation of dark powers driving the mental health issues in the people who have them, which usually comes with comments about praying for their problems, or demons, to go away. The other reactions tend to be ones of disbelief that it's really an illness, getting comments like “they just need to shake it off.” And even though as a Christian I do believe in an enemy at work, and I do believe in the power of prayer, I've come to realize that mental health, just like physical health, is not necessarily something we all will live without. I’m also very aware, and pleased to know, that people, Christian or not, are becoming more informed of what’s the deal behind mental health, and doing what they can to break the stigma. And to that, I say thank you! But this blog is being posted for those still on the fence. This isn’t a post to start a theological debate about mental health or argue whether a Christian should be healthy and prosperous all the time if they just have enough faith. This is to share my journey with mental health, as a Christian, and to share how good God is in all my messiness.

So to start, let me tell you about my imperfect self. A part of me who I just opened up about to my fiancé, my family, and some of my friends in the last two years, because before that it was regularly suggested to me to “just be thankful”, “pray for God to take it away” and not to share my struggles when sharing my story, because people will think I’m “looking for attention”.

P.S.: I still have a loud voice inside me telling me people will think I’m looking for attention, but I have a louder voice telling me I can’t hold back what God has done for me in my life.

My mental struggles, as far as I can remember, started when I was about 11. I dealt with the (sadly) common struggles most 11-year-olds deal with. Body issues. My body was beginning to change out of my lanky child figure, and I have pretty heartbreaking memories of being a young girl, not yet in high school, pinching my fat and bawling my eyes out alone in my basement on a weekly basis. Fast forward to age 15, being in high school, starting to take an interest in pimpled ridden, voice cracked, hormone surged 15-year-old boys. Something in me switched at that age. I went from being sad about my chub to obsessing over taking control over it. Hence, the bulimia started. Purging was something I planned to do only temporarily until the weight came off. The sad part of an eating disorder is the weight really isn’t the problem. At 16 I weighed 125 pounds at 5 foot 6 and was obsessed with losing more weight. The goal was always 99 pounds, and I only got to 117. So, year 16 and 17 of my life was P90X and purging on a daily basis.

We’ll come back to the eating disorder later because at 17 another wave hit me. Anxiety. It’s funny because all my life I would say “wow I’m feeling so anxious right now” or “that gives me so much anxiety” lightly until the anxiety actually came. It started in grade 11, I lost a lot of my high school friends (a lot of whom I’ve reconnected with and love more than ever today, thank God). I would cry almost every night thinking about my next day at school and the feelings of loneliness. I would often find myself in the girls' washroom hyperventilating. The anxiety carried into every aspect of my life, often manifesting into full-blown panic attacks; curled up in a ball, on the ground, seemingly out of nowhere, unable to catch my breath, sometimes for up to 15 minutes. After a pretty rough breakup, things got exponentially worse. For about 6 months I was getting about 2-3 hours of sleep a day, a great side effect of anxiety called insomnia, and I felt like I was drowning in fears, hopelessness and thoughts of suicide.

It was when I was 17 I first started seeing a psychologist. Fast forward another two years, and I’m doing better. I’ve learned how to manage the panic attacks, I dealt with the anxiety, and I was sleeping much better. What I didn’t know at nineteen, and which I know now, is I was still dealing with what I’ve been dealing with from the beginning. Depression. It’s kind of weird, but as I write that word, I have a smile on my face. We’ll get to why in a second.

At 19, as many of you know, and the reason this blog even exists, I went to L.A. to serve with Youth with a Mission Los Angeles. While I was there I shared my testimony countless times, often talking about anxiety, but avoiding depression and especially avoiding my past with an eating disorder, mostly because I became very close with girls who had eating disorders, and I got it into my mind that because I wasn’t institutionalized for it, it wasn’t really a problem and I shouldn’t bring it up. It was in Barcelona that year that I gave my life to Christ (yes, I was raised in the church. No, I didn’t know Jesus until I was 20). I came back for the summer, started dating my now fiancé, and went back for another few months where I grew so much more in my faith. It was some of the best times of my life.

I really believed everything that was ever wrong with me, everything messy in my life, was behind me. After growing so much in that year, surrounded by amazing people who were growing beside me, I felt free. The kicker is that I came home, started studying psychology (typical, a girl with mental issues goes on to study mental issues, isn’t that most of our stories?), and my “messy past” caught up to me eventually.

This past year I really faced my mental health, afraid, but head first. I realized a few things. One was that I have control issues. Many people who know and love me know that I get really, unwarrantedly upset if I get a grade below A. Sometimes they laugh until they see or hear how much I obsessed and beat myself up for not getting a perfect score. I work really hard to get the grades I do, and it’s looking like I’m going to graduate with somewhere between a 3.9-4.0 GPA, but I also have had a 2-year struggle of hating myself and ripping myself apart for not being absolutely perfect in everything I do. This mentality led to me trying to gain control and be “perfect” in other areas of my life. Yes, you guessed it, the purging began. At the beginning of 2018, I found myself back into my high school habits, and thank God I have a fiancé who was always there to listen and help me through it this time around. The depression also continued and still continues, although it comes more in waves nowadays and not a constant tug.

So, where am I going with this? I really hope you’ve read until this far because all this background story is just noise compared to the real point I’m trying to make. This year, despite my battle with mental illness, has been one of the best years of my life, and I can tell you why in five words: Christ is enough for me. Yes, you might have heard the song, but those words have never rung truer in my life. Maybe you’ve walked into a church that told you if you pray enough and if you believe enough, all your problems, physical, mental, financial, will go away. I know for a fact that isn’t true. We live in a really, really messed up, fallen world. We’re riddled with diseases, heartbreak, selfishness, pride, and battles we have to face every day. But one thing I know to be absolutely true is in the face of it all, Christ is enough. This year, learning to lean into the grace of God more and more each day, I discovered the awesome truth that I’m never going to be perfect, and it’s in my imperfections, my depression, my anxiety, that God gets to be glorified. I get to wake up knowing that there is a perfect God who has a plan for me. In the midst of my depression, I don’t feel hopeless anymore, because I know God will use me to reach and empathize with others struggling on a whole other level. When I’m feeling most anxious, my nervous system on fire, not able to sleep because I’m thinking of life and marriage and grad school, I’m also feeling the most peace I’ve ever felt, knowing that God is so much bigger than the battle in front of me. I realized this year, something I spoke about to so many women while in L.A., Mexico, Switzerland and Spain, that the goal was never to be perfect, the goal was never to be illness free. If it happens that I don’t have to deal with depression or anxiety one day, amen! But until then, the healing, peaceful, protective, full power of Christ is enough to carry me through. It’s in my weakness that God can shine, can be given the glory for why I wake up every day with a purpose, a light, and with hope. What I’m trying to say is summarized pretty well in the word of God, as it always is:

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. - 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m really not that great without Christ. I’m broken, I’m selfish, I fear, I fret, I want complete control. It’s only through knowing, seeking, loving and following Christ that I can live free, in my flawed body and spirit, I can trust in God’s promise that his power will be made perfect in my weakness and I can rest easy knowing God has such an incredible plan for my life.

It’s been on my heart to share this part of me for 3 years now, and I hope someone out there reading this is affected by my words. Maybe you’re dealing with mental illness, and you’ve been scared to open up about it to your family, friends or church. To you, I say that God’s perfection can’t be made whole if we’re too scared to show our weakness. A fundamental element of believing in Jesus is admitting we’re broken, and still believing He is so so good. If you’re someone who doesn’t deal with mental illness (first of all, thank you, Jesus, for that, cause that’s awesome and becoming more and more rare), maybe my words broke down a bit of the stigma around this topic. I hope you exit this page rethinking the way you see things like depression and anxiety. I’m not trying to make a point that we shouldn’t pray for healing in these areas, because I believe God can give us healing, but just as there are people who are bound to wheelchairs, who will never walk again, and who still praise and give glory to God, I believe we should open up about what binds our minds, even if we can never “shake it off” and still praise and give glory to God. We should be looking forward to the day we are united with Him, in our new bodies and mind, but until then allowing ourselves to be made perfect through His perfection, and not through striving for our own.

As a last note, because I know some will worry, through opening up to my family and diving deep with God into the body image issues behind it, I have been able to fight a good fight against my eating disorder, and I’ve been doing much better the last 8 months. My anxiety comes and goes, but that’s something I’ve been able to manage the best, thanks to lots of prayers, some cardio and good old deep breathing techniques! And the depression comes and goes in waves, but I’m no longer hopeless, which is a huge step forward.

I wish everyone reading this the absolute best, and know that I’m always here to talk (as a friend, as someone who’s been there, and as someone who happens to be studying this stuff and knows quite a bit on mental health, not just Jesus, haha). And I'm always open to talk about Christ if this is your first time reading about Jesus in this way. I'm an open book.

Thanks for listening, Anna.

Links

List of listening services in Quebec & Canada

List of suicide prevention lines worldwide

Online, anonymous emotional support

The only thing that really keeps me going

[futurewriter2000]

Combatants ~ Part 2

A/N: Hello lovelies! You guys made me so happy by all the feedback it really helped me get through this week. I am so happy you guys liked part 1 and really hope you enjoy part 2 too. Usually part 1 are always better than any other parts but I tried to make this one just as good as the first one. This part is kind of sad but it will get so much happier in part 3.

Warning: A lot of angst, intentions of sexual assult. Really sad and depressing (but it will get better in part 3)

Tags: @nadinissavage, @lexi-thechaosqueen, @grey-raven, @alohomagines, @bestillmystuckyheart, @maddyfitzhenry, @astrophileslytherin, @literally-anythin, @fashionlive15

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

xx

It has been 2 weeks since you left. No letter, no trace to explain how you disappeared. You even left your clothes in your dorm, your books, photographs, personal belongings, everything.

Nobody knew what excatly happened the day you left. All they were certain of was that you snapped your wand and left, because of one special Gryffindor. Whenever the boy walked by, new rumors started circling around the school and more unpleasent whispers echoed through the corridors. It never stopped for him. The tables have turned for the young Sirius Black.

He never meant for it to happen. The hurtful words he said to you repeated in his head every night. It never skipped a minute of his time and the guilt he felt... The guilt was eating him alive. What you felt, those prying eyes, making you feel so terrible and lost at the time. It’s what he felt after you left. But he had James and the other Marauders. He had people take care of him and it helped him. 

Jack was a different story. You and him have been secretly writing to eachother. Never telling him where you were, you just simply put it that you were safe. It pissed him off. What pissed him off even more was the fact that he hasn't gotten your letter in 2 days and he was getting worried.

And time passed. Time passed slowly but rather quick. James got himself Lily,  Jack was on top of his class, Severus was doing the dark arts and well Sirius. He moved on.

---

"Fuck!" you cursed as you noticed you were cornered. ‘Nowhere to run now, might as face them. ‘ you thought before turning around, ready to fight. But something was wrong. They were gone. Not even one of them was on sight and you were completly alone.

You heard a whistle. A whistle that later was joined by others. You knew they were playing with your head, but you had nowhere to run and you were scared. Scared for your shitty life. The whistle approached you slowly and right behind your ear you felt her breath. She grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you around. A big fist, covered with golden and silver rings, hit your left cheek like a storm, knocking you on the ground. "You should have never left us (y/n)." she retailiated as you were pulling yourself up. “Our little Wolfie just can’t suck it up.” she continued to goad you.

Someone grabbed you under your arms and lift you up on your feet. He sniffed you from your neck to your hair and whispered. "Tasty."

"You really think I'm afraid of you?" you scoffed, trying to get out of his grip.

"Oh love. We know your afraid of us." said the dark figure coming out of the shadows. As he came into the light, the figure became clearer. His evil black eyes and his malicious smile scared the hell out of you. He was a handsome man, he still is and you worshiped him as he took you in, but right now he was a monster. 

"Wanted to say goodbye personally, Collin." you spat out. “The Ghost himself.” you laughed. “I thought the Ghost was supposed to be frightning, brutal... yet he can’t control a 17 year old.” you provoked him.

His expression turned into a terrifying face. “Watch your mouth.” he warned, before a smile reapperead on the corner of his lips again. He came closer, his fingers tracing  on your skin... You struggled with the man holding you from behind, just to get free and punch that bastard right on his pathetic face. But you couldn’t. His touch on your skin gave you goosebumps, made your hair on the back of your neck stand up and your heart beat faster than normally. It was pure fear and he knew it. He grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks together. Pressing his lips onto yours, a slow kiss at first, disgusting as you tasted the alcohol and the smoke from his Cuban cigarettes. 

Finally breaking from the kiss, you looked at him. Hate and anger started filling your body and fear completly disappeared. Seeing his devilish smile, you had no choice but to spit in his bloody black eyes. “ Go to hell.” 

"Can't love. Have some business to do before that." he winked at you and wiped the spit out ff his eyes. He then turned his back at you and started walking slowly away. "You know. I really thought you were something.” He turned around with his arms open and his smile still plastered on his lips. “ I shouldn't have shown you the ugly bits though. You weren't ready. "

"What you do, its monstrous. I hope you burn in hell." you snarled, gritting your teeth in the process.

"Yeah. You already mentioned that." He waved his hand, feeling complete boredom. Turning his back at you again, you knew his smile was completly gone. He is done playing with your head and is ready for what’s next. He nodded at his collegues and left the scene. Arms around you tightned and soon the pain began. One by one, one after another, no break, no mercy, just pain. You tried not to scream but it was almost impossible. When they were finished they threw you on the ground, leaving you completly breathless. You couldn't move, nor breathe. The weird thing is, you couldn’t feel the pain either.

"What the hell man!" yelled someone from behind. You couldn't see who it was but the voice that echoed in your ears, gave you a little bit of hope. "(Y/n)! (Y/n!)!"

"You know the drill Monty. Those who are not with us, are against us." said Collin, reappearing out of the shadows and walking over to Monty.

"You can't do that to her. She's a kid!" he yelled , getting pulled back by the others on his way over to you.

"That she is." an evil chuckle escaping his mouth. "But every girl needs to become a woman one day."

"No! No Collin! Please don’t do that to her! I beg you!” yelled Monty. Collin shrugged his shoulders and for a second you could almost think, that he reconsidered it. Unfourtunately, he was The Ghost, so what followed next was a big punch in the head. That’s all it took for Monty to fall on the ground and lose his consciousness.

"When you are done with her Jo. Leave her." he spit out coldly and left with the others.

Jo, ugly looking fella, was standing above you. "Pretty." he said, putting away a strand of your hair. "I always did like you." he breathed at you.

When he started unbucking his belt, you realized what he was about to do. "No." you told yourself in a whimper. "No." you started to crawl away.

"Oh honey. What are you gonna do?" he chuckled getting on top of you, turning you around and pinning you to the ground.

"NO!" you finally yelled making him fly away and hit a wall.

You haven't used magic for a while but there was no way you were letting that creep rape you. Your body might be weak right now, but you have something he doesn’t. You have magic.

"You little piece of shit!" he grumbled.Why wasn’t he afraid of you though? Why wasn’t he surprised when you blasted him 20 feet into a wall.  "Just like my brother aren't you. " he raged, getting up and wiping away the blood from his bottom lip.

"Get fucking off her!!" a familliar voice shouted from the distance.

"(Y/n)?! (Y/n)?! Wake up"

And everything went dark.

---

"Padfoot?" asked James for the hundredth time as Sirius was busy whispering something in Marlene's ear. Sirius looked up to meet his friends eyes, leaving Marlene in a pack of giggles. "So I was thinking about the prank for Snivellus over there. And I thought of the perfect way to do it." he grinned.

"I thought you promised Lilly you won't prank him anymore?" asked Sirius leaning closer to James and looking around.

"I know but it could be the last one. Plus his girlfriend isn't here to ruin it." 

Sirius leant back. "His girlfriend? Since when does our Snivellus have a girlfriend." he laughed.

"(Y/n)?" said James.

As soon as he heard your name his face went completly pale. "I think we shouldn't do it."

"What?!Why?'' 

"Because..." argued Sirius, but couldn’t continue. What was he about to say anyway? James knew excatly why, hell everybody in this school knew why.

"Because she threatened you? Pads, she’s gone."

"And whose fault is that." snapped Sirius, turning his head away from James.

He may have not showed it before, but your leaving really hurt him. He remembered you. He remembered the day you comforted him when he was sitting in the library in the dark corner, crying. That day he got a letter from his parents and it wasn’t pretty. You were the one, who after all those years he made fun of because of Snape and your Slytherin friends, still decided to sit down next to him and let him talk about it. You were the one, who made him laugh through his tears and you were the one, who turned that awful day into one of the best by dragging him into the kitchen and having chubby bunny compettiotion with him. You were the one being there for him while James was on his Quidditch match, Remus recovering from his transformation and Peter just being lazy. 

James didn’t know that. Nobody did because he never told them. He kept it as his little secret. "It's not your fault Padfoot." comforted James, seeing the guilt in his eyes.

"It is. I-I made her leave." he said glumly.  The guilt never disappeared. He hated himself. Saying those words when he was pissed...he didn’t think straght. Merlin, he wanted to go back in time and change everything.

"You made who leave?" said Remus as he walked and sat over. He poured himself some coffee and took some donuts. He waited for an answer but the two of them were just looking at eachother. “Well?” he said impatiently.

"He is blaming himself for making (y/l/n) leave." answered James. "I mean..come on Pads. She didn't have much friends except Snivellus over there and maybe a few."

"I know but... I really didn’t think she would react like that.” said Sirius, playing with his fingers, not daring to look up to his friends. Why? Because he knew excatly how they would look at him. Like he was some depressed shit, that needs to be nursed. He doesn’t need to be nursed. For god’s sake he was Sirius Black. If he survived his family, than he can definetly survive this. It will just take time. Right?

James knew how much this affected Sirius. He hated seeing his best friend like that. Blaming himself for something he couldn’t control. How could he have known you would do that. It shocked James just as much as it did Sirius and he felt just as guilty as him, he was just hiding it better. If he haven’t provoked Snape it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You wouldn’t have gotten angry and stand up to them and you definetly wouldn’t have left. It was just as much as his doing as it was Sirius’. But Sirius is his brother and he would do anything to make him feel better.

"She punched me in the nose. You are forgiven by all." said James, making Sirius simper.

"You guys are such morons. Do you live in a cave?" jeered Remus, rolling his eyes and smiling at his idiotic friends.

"You live in our room you tell me." grinned James, looking back at Sirius, who was sharing his laugh.

"(Y/n) is coming back. She already finished the exams from the previous year and now she is coming back to finish this one." said Remus." Its talking all over school.”

Sirius and James looked at eachother in shock. How could they have missed that. “She-she’s coming... you know...back?” asked Sirius, hoping he heard him correctly. 

“Yeah.” replied Remus, taking another bite of his donut. 

Sirius felt relieved. Not only that, he felt like God has finally decided to be on his side for once in his 17 years. He just got a chance to make this right. He can finally appologise to you, make it up to you, tell you how he didn’t mean to say that, how he was the biggest idiot in the world. He would even let you cut his hair or push him into the lake if it takes for him to make things right.

---

It didn’t take long, since Remus told them the news, when you walked in the Great Hall. Your hair cut shorter than before and one strand of hair was in a beautiful dark turquoise color. What really caught everyone’s attention was the scar over your left eyebrow. There was also a light purple bruise on your left cheek and still some ring-shaped marks left on it. You had your blue and bronze tie around your collar, proudly wearing the school robes and long sleeves covering the blue and purple hands, which only Sirius noticed it by now. 

Jack stood up from his seat, so overjoyed from seeing you after all this time. He started walking towards you, quickening his pace with every step. He opened his arms and gave you a big long hug. He held you for what felt like hours, gripping you tightly in his embrace. "Oh my god! You're really back." he exculted, burrying his head into your neck.

"I missed you too." you chortled as he lift you off your feet and spun you around, before putting you back down and breaking the hug. "Congratulations Prefect." you smiled, fixing his Prefect badge. “It suits you. Prefect Jack. Sounds so proffesional.” you teased.

He was just staring at you. He missed you so much. How can he not? The two of you were close like Dumbldore and McGonngal. Even closser than that. Of course the two of you didn’t only see eachother the day you met. The two of you basically spent most of the summer together until he went home again. Getting home from your summer fun, he sent you a letter. A letter you never got and never replied to. He pulled you into another hug. "You freaking scared the hell out of me."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."  

"Come on let’s get somewhere to talk." he said before taking your hand and leading you out of the Great Hall.

Sirius.

He looked at James and Remus on the verge of breaking down. His eyes were broken, his usual smirk was turned into a heart-rending frown and his skin lost its glow.

"Sirius. Don't." said James, trying to get a hold of his hand, but Sirius immediatelly got up from the table and stormed out. James and Remus both got on their feet and ran after him. 

---

James knocked on their door only to get a serious look from Remus.” Are you really knocking on OUR dorm door?”

“Oh shut up.” retorded James and opened the door.

They entered quietly, noticing Sirius sitting on the end of his bed, crying. He was bent down, his elbows on his knees and his hands gripping his hair tightly. James and Remus carefully approached him. James knelt down, while Remus sat down next to him. “Sirius. It’s not your fault.”

Great. All Sirius needed right now was someone to say that it wasn’t his fault. That he wasn’t the reason that happened to her.

"It's not my fault?! IT'S NOT MY FAULT?!! How can you say that!! Have you seen her!!! Are you blind or something!!! She had scars and bruises all over her!! DO YOU THINK THAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I ONLY KEPT MY MOUTH SHUT! I was the one who told her to drop dead!! ME! I was the one who told her to go back to that filthy muggle world of hers! I DID THAT AND I SWEAR IF ANYONE SAYS ITS NOT MY FAULT I WILL RIPP THEIR HEAD OFF!” he yelled, pure rage taking over his control.

He was furious, he was angry and he was full of guilt. He didn’t know what he felt right now, he really didn’t. Seeing Remus’ and James’ face didn’t help either. They were worried. Sirius never yelled at them like that. Never in his entire life has he felt such rage and sadness at the same time either. He collapsed back on the bed, staring at the red and gold carpet. 

“I did that.” he said glumly.

Remus and James looked at eachother and nodded. There was no point telling him it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t ready to hear it, but he was their friend and at least they can do is sypmpathize. "You couldn't have known Sirius. None of us could." 

“I did.”

[noexit-ff]

10.

Zipping my backpack up, I am still half asleep but I need to leave for New Jersey. I should have gone last night but Robyn would not let me go, she at first said she wanted to go and then she said no. I mean shit is so hot up for us, people have kind of put it together and figured it out but we deny it all. I had to come back here and pack my stuff, I will be gone for a few days but I will be coming back straight away when I can “yo, nigga. Where is your phone?” Mijo said behind me, I don’t really hang with anyone anymore. Mijo is my man but for this trip I got a few of the boys “it’s on charge” I paused “at Robyn’ place, shit!” I spat, sighing out turning around to Mijo “yeah, she on the phone. Sis decided she wants to come so pick her up with Mel” Robyn decided to come, she is a pain in the butt “we could have travelled last night, I told her to come” rolling my eyes “you hear that but we will come, see you there” Mijo disconnected the call “you look so annoyed” Mijo chuckled “I am, you right. I have all those niggas with me, and to take Rihanna with us, shit will need some military operation” she is annoying “she said no last night and then says yeah now? Women for you though but fuck them niggas, more niggas the better. We can hold her down” he got a point “it’s going to be difficult but she wants to come with me, Robyn was saying no but she wants to support me I guess” the Hot 97 concert is today and I am nowhere near New Jersey.

Robyn might have Rich with her but then again I hope not, people are dying to see us together and Mel is the worst. She got this hot up, this is on her “I’ll be two minutes” getting out of the SUV, Robyn and I have done nothing. We have just been in this house hiding from the world, I have loved it though. Unlocking the door and pushing the door open “family!” I spat closing the door behind me, seeing Robyn’ bags on the floor “I am here!” Robyn chimed, she sounds so happy. Walking down the steps “I only left you a couple of hours ago, what changed?” there is no Rich so that is good, he is noticeable when going out “she woke me up” Mel looks it “you look awful” Mel still has her head wrap on “thanks dumbass” Mel walked by me “you look so excited, what is happening?” I am confused “nothing, I just want to come with you! I want to support you, I know it could like expose us both but I will be backstage, I will stay away but I just want to be with you” I cooed out, she is so clingy now “I don’t mind you coming, I just don’t want us to be caught. But let’s go” I am actually loving this, I love that we are secretive from the world, nobody giving us bad vibes. I am really happy, I want to keep it this way.

Robyn is funny, she is so damn clingy and cute. Looking down at Robyn with her head on my shoulder, dick has made her so clingy “so how are we doing this boss?” my bodyguard said in the front “just going with the flow, protecting my baby of course and her pet Melissa” I think Mijo and Mel are having a disagreement in the back “am I in the way?” Robyn said with her lips poking out “never, I just want to make sure nobody takes pictures of us. I don’t want people finding out just yet” seeing the boys outside my jet waiting “you bought the animals with you” Robyn is rude “be nice, they can hide you I guess” I just want to be sure nobody sees us “true, Jay Brown asked me today if I am depressed because of how I don’t want to be leaving the house. I felt like saying, nah I am just riding my man” I chuckled “you funny, funny because you ain’t lying” I am enjoying having one lady in my life, it’s peaceful actually.

Everything seems to be flowing, we landed in New Jersey and then we got into another  SUV here. We are just arriving at the arena, the boys got there before us and I made them check out the place and what it is like getting to my dressing room, they said it’s packed but hopefully I will just push my way through “I wish I could watch you perform, like in front” this supportive non-working Rihanna is a blessing “you can see from the side of the stage babe, not need to be sad. We do need to find a place to stay though, we playing too much” I think we are so cosy in Robyn’ rented place we forget “ok, so when we go back we will do it? I bet my things are getting dusty at your place” I snorted “more like which heel does my dog’s chew on a day” Robyn hit my arm “that better not be true!” it is true but I won’t admit to it “here we are” I am so nervous about this, we could be getting exposed today “busy” Robyn said as she lifted her hood up “always is” the car came to a halt outside the door, opening the car door and already seeing French “aww shit, my nigga” he got his hand out, holding my hand out to shake his hand “good seeing you bro, I just come now. I need to get inside” I said wanting him to go, French looked behind me smiling, looking behind me seeing Robyn “hey” he smiled at her, Robyn smiled back. Holding onto Robyn’ hand, my bodyguards both at the side of us as I made my way inside. Robyn at the side of me holding my hand tightly, she is nervous too.

My friends are being very supportive today, they gathered around us both so nobody could actually get to us besides wave to me and see me. I am so glad to see my dressing room, I feel like I can breathe now “Cass can you stand outside and make sure nobody comes into this room besides my friends ok? Nobody, I mean nobody. Not even my mom if she came” my bodyguard laughed “I got you” he turned around to walk off “niggas looked mad salty at you Chris, you just walking passed them” Mel said, sitting down on the couch “fuck them, they are the same ones recording. I just don’t want people leaking anything, I want this relationship to be told to the world by Robyn and I and nobody else” people got to understand this “I don’t want it to be second class gossip, I am legit about this” Sinko looked at me in silence “if anything comes out of this then I know it was one of you niggas” Sinko didn’t say a word at first “I got you homie, we know how much you have changed on us” he got that right, I don’t hang around with those fools anymore “we need to bring class to the family” Robyn added “class? Your nigga got OHB tatted on him, that shit is for life. You may not like us but I ride for your nigga” Robyn does not like any of them “gang bangers that get him in trouble, he can do what he likes but that won’t happen in my home. I guess it’s my amazing pussy that keeps him at home” Sinko snorted laughing “it’s got him whipped, I ain’t speaking bad on her Chris, I don’t know why you are giving me that look for” I was just waiting for him to say something stupid, but he didn’t.

Robyn pressed a kiss to my lips “well you have a nice interview, I will be listening” smiling at her “where was this supportive Robyn before?” she was hiding this “hiding behind her team” I knew that, kissing her cheek “alright, you both can stay here. I am going” I am leaving my bodyguards with Robyn, they need to look after her “Lo and Mijo, stay behind. The rest with me. Mijo!” I spat waving him over, he is walking down the lobby “what nigga?” he all angry but I don’t care what they argued about “you staying with them, just look after them both aight? If they get clocked then so be it but please try” Mijo nodded, he is always supportive even if he didn’t want to be at this moment. It does feel amazing to have my girl here, it is a shame we have to hide.

Taking the mic from the producer “if it isn’t my brother Chris!” Nessa shouted with her arms open “sis” I smiled hugging her “I saw you earlier but you rushed by me, rude as fuck” I chuckled moving back “my bad, I am a little behind. I ain’t even rehearse either” sitting on the couch across her “I know, I was like where is this guy? I was about to text you but I was told you was on the jet by your friend, it’s hard to get a hold of you now with no manager” rolling eyes “don’t get me started” clearing my throat “we need to get the interview started” the producer said “ok, we will catch up after” I will be running back to my dressing room after this.

“I am so happy, I got my brother Chris Brown with me today, how have you been? You have been in hiding? No album or anything, you have been quiet? I know a lot of people are wondering, are you doing some project that you are going to shock us with?” rubbing my chin laughing “I been good, honestly I ain’t been doing nothing. I think the old age is getting to me but I just been in my crib, I think I just want a quiet life. I don’t know Nessa, I am getting old” I said laughing at myself “old? Stop it, you’re still childish Chris so stop it. You not bringing an album out at all? We miss you out here, I see you have been releasing random songs but come on? It’s been long enough. Come with it” she said, shaking my head “I just don’t want to release an album, I do it when I feel comfortable. I think I have come to a point in my career where I want to think of me. I love my fans, I love the people that support me. I am just trying to think of me, it hit me hard being twenty nine you know. I just want to look back on my life and say I did something for myself. There is only so much you can give, I think I have done everything in the books. From being locked up to being the most hated guy and still is, I just want to be me. Have fun, not saying that tomorrow I won’t end up back in the studio and by next month there will be an album but it’s when I want too, not because of my manager because I cut that shit out, I am my own manager and I feel good about it” taking in a deep breath “wow, it’s just feels different without you being arounf with an album, but we do have your features and also writing, you wrote on you Rihanna’s album which was a good album” I hope this ain’t the point where she goes into speaking about Robyn“yeah, that was good. You know, we friends and she needed help and I was there” playing the whole thing off.

Leaning forward on the couch “so you’re still single correct?” Nessa asked, raising an eyebrow “why? You asking?” I grinned at her “no, shut up. You’re my brother but you’re single and as you say you’re looking to settle? That is what I am getting from you, that is right?” licking my lips nodding my head “so that was a yes, Chris decided to just nod his head for those that can’t see on the radio. We need to find Chris a perfect girl, so to the females out there I am going ask questions, if you match this then please tweet me at Nessa” I wish she wouldn’t “wow, I didn’t agree to this mess” I said down the mic “you ain’t have a manager so nothing was verified” she retorted, I busted out laughing she got me there “so I am going to show you pictures of famous females, you need to choose between them so we can get into our minds what you want” shaking my head “I go for personality” I quickly added “that is a lie, why are you lying” sitting back on the couch, this is not going to be be fun “I like brains not beauty, don’t let Nessa fool you. Maybe a big booty and breasts” I added laughing “so Kelly Rowland or Keri Hilson” their pictures came up on the screen “I don’t want to offend anyone because both of these ladies are beautiful, you getting me in so much trouble but I would say, Kelly?” Nessa looked at me all wide eyed “wow, that has shocked me” she spat, I shrugged “I like my chocolate ladies, she beautiful. I love all women, I just really do” Nessa waved me off “ok the next one, J Lo or Ashanti” pulling a face “wow, damn!” I spat “J Lo all the way, I mean look at her. She can move too” I said all wide eyed “I heard you fancy her” Nessa asked. Blowing out air “fancy? One night, if she is free. She got a nice ass” I said laughing.

I hope there is no more pictures “I know people are going to say I am being messy but they are the most beautiful women, and it’s a game to know what he likes” dragging my eyes to the screen “Beyonce or Rihanna” my lips pressed into a hard thin line staring at the pictures “this is messy as hell, wow. You meant to be my sister, not set my ass up. You really trying it with me, you already done got my ass in trouble” shaking my head “it’s fun Chris come on” she said, shaking my head “or you just want to ask me something and you don’t want to seem like a gossip. But if I was to pick” looking at the screen, Robyn looks so beautiful in the picture “Bey” I said, I am not happy “so you and Rihanna are not together like everyone is saying? Might as well ask, the whole world is wanting to know” sighing out “no, I am not with Rihanna. She is my friend and I wish her all the best, I don’t know why people are watching us. She got her own life and I have too” scratching the side of my face.

That is hard, I am feeling it and I am sweating knowing Robyn is in the back listening to this “so if there is a girl out there and you like the look of her” taking in a deep breath “then please tag me in your pictures on twitter at Chris Brown or on Instagram which is Chris Brown Official, over the legal age please” I am trying to lighten my mood up, I feel it right now “I would love to see you as a father Chris, I think you deserve to show someone the love you have. I hope you find that person, have a mini Chris Brown and show him the way or her. You ever think of that?” rubbing my head “more then ever now, ask me this a couple of weeks ago and I would have said no but I realised who would I give my name too, I want to be a father and I hope it is a boy. If it is then I will be happy because I ain’t having no more kids, one child is enough. I think it’s hard to love sometimes when people look at you like a monster, when I see my nephews and niece they look at me like this brand new dude, Their minds are not tainted and I want that. We shall see, five years later I still may be a whore. Watch” I laughed down the mic.

When I went back into the dressing room Robyn was not there, she was in the toilet that is what Mel said but I ain’t got the time to wait. I have to get on stage, I have feeling she is not happy and I hope it is not with me because I didn’t ask for it. I just hope I have a good time on stage because I did not rehearse one bit, if I do something stupid then people will laugh. This does make me want a manager, after that bullshit with her and those questions, I need one. That wouldn’t have happened, I am annoyed because I know Robyn is upset “we have the last performer of the night ladies, I know you all have been waiting for him. Shall we bring him out?” looking over at Mijo “she mad?” I said to him “upset” he simply said, clenching my jaw in annoyance.

Wiping the sweat from my face, passing my mic to Mijo “good job bro” Nessa hugged me “thanks” walking off, I need to see my girl. Smiling at some kids “can we have a picture?” realising they are Lil Wayne’ kids, I stopped in my tracks “for sure” crouching down to them “oh shit, didn’t see you there” I pointed at Lil Wayne “it’s cool my nigga, you looked in a daze” placing the towel over my shoulder smiling as he took the picture, getting up from my position “good seeing my nigga” dapping Lil Wayne “I got to go but we will catch up soon” my bodyguard Cass walked with me “just get me back to the dressing room now” I said to him, raising my arm waving at some fans while I walked off “I feel like shit bruh, my throat is hurting” I fucked myself over by not warming up my vocals, I guess that is on me anyways “my nigga!!!” Trey spat, just who I wanted to see “my brother” hugging him, he held me close “I came just to see you perform, I was already in New York so I came here” I cheesed mad hard “it’s good seeing bro” seeing my dressing room just there “you coming to the club? I got my party in New York” I paused “erm, honestly. Not right now, I have some things I need to do. I will call you though” I feel bad, he came out here for me “alright, call me. You better come” I know for a fact Rihanna and I are going to argue over something so stupid.

Least Robyn is not in the toilet again, she is in such a mood and I can see it “nice interview, personally it was funny but yet deep” Mel complimented me “thanks, can y’all leave the room thanks” Mel pointed at herself “yes, you too please. I am sure nobody will take notice, hide in another room and have hateful sex with Mijo” Mel put a finger up at me, smiling at her. Robyn is really mad, I hope we don’t argue and I can cool it off before she throws something at me “I’ll be out here” Cass said, nodding my head. Opening my backpack, getting my tee out from there “why are you angry?” might as well start it “I’m not” she said simply, that is a damn lie “so why is your face all screwed up like that? Didn’t even say good performance baby, you did so well” Robyn shook her head smiling, but that kind of smile like she wants to tell me to fuck off “it was boring, there you go” putting my tee over my head “petty” least I know she is angry.

Staring at Robyn, she is being mad for no reason “can we just speak on this, I don’t want to argue. I don’t know what you want me to do, I am single out there. I have to act like this, you know this” I don’t why she won’t look at me “I wish I never came, all I got was degraded. Compared to other women with better features, bigger boobs and booty. Why be with me when I am nothing like you wanted? I don’t blame you Beyonce is better then me, I could never compete but you could have chosen me. I am still a woman, I may be Rihanna out there but I am Robyn, I am just like every woman and I hate when I am compared to other women and for my fiancé to choose another woman. Yes, I understand we are a secret but it’s the truth that is what you want, that is what you wanted and I was never good enough” staring at her in shock “how can you even think you ain’t good enough you’re Rihanna, what did you want me to do?” Robyn glared at me “if I was ever good enough for you then why did you cheat huh? Explain that to me but you can’t can you? You know why, because I was never good enough like every time, every man. Every fucking time! Never good was I” I really can’t say anything, this has really bought up some wounds.

The silence in this room is awful, I wasn’t thinking I guess “I am sorry, I assumed not picking you was better then picking you. Everyone expected me to do it, they saying we are together and wanted prove we ain’t. I really didn’t mean to make you upset or hurt your feelings, I can promise you I never thought you wasn’t good enough for me. You was always too good for me, I wanted to have that life but it was never to do with looks. I never got another you, I could never amount to what I got with you. I got laughed at for cheating on you, I didn’t think and I am sorry. I promise you, I am sorry. I can feel you hurting” she sniffled, I didn’t want her to cry. Maybe I should go to her “it’s not the fact I am Rihanna, I am Robyn and I have feelings and I’m not perfect. It’s just hearing that from your mouth, I know people are cheering that you didn’t pick me” sitting next to Robyn as she spoke “but I am cheering that I did pick you, they can fuck off. I love you. Please stop crying” holding her hand “I am sorry, it just upset me” placing my arm around Robyn’ shoulder “honestly Robyn, you’re the most beautiful girl I have been with. I fell in with you when you was fresh from the island, I am so sorry, so sorry for saying that. I would choose you over anyone” I feel so bad “J Lo got a nice ass though?”  she repeated my words “I am the one eating your ass out, fuck her Robyn. I am with you” Robyn looked up at me “I missed you staring at me with those beautiful eyes” Robyn smiled at me lightly “I want to get married, I am done hiding. That is what I want to do now, I just want to be claimed and for that person to want me, and love me. I just want that, I just want to find a home and get married” nodding my head “we will, but please don’t doubt me Robyn. All I want is you, that is the past. I am sorry for the hurt I caused you, I want you and I love you. That was a mistake and I feel so bad, shall we go home now?” I just want to forget that shit, I will miss Trey’ party for this “yeah, let’s go. Your friends, Sinko or whatever. They said that’s my nigga and laughed but I felt it was at me because I did look at him and he looked at me, they purposely started talking about things I don’t want to hear as your fiancé” getting up from the couch and making my way to the door, dragging it open and seeing Sinko infront of me. Walking up to him and grabbed him by the throat “the fuck did you say in there about me while my girl was there?” The talking around the lobby stopped, hearing the door close “I ain’t fucking say shit! I just spoke about some chicks you had, Jessica my nigga, that is it, you fucking liked her” tightening my grip around his neck “she was nothing!! Upset my girl, any of you. Y’all will get it” I won’t have these niggas talking and upsetting Robyn, releasing my grip from around his neck.

[willbvcrs]

“i can’t move on.” // “sorry for the promises i didn’t keep.” // “fuck you, you never cared.” // “i won’t let this be how it ends.” || Sage&Kendall please?

“i can’t move on.” 

Here it was once again. The never ending loop of fights and bickering over the smallest things. Kendall was done with all of it. All she has ever wanted was a loving boyfriend. She knew fights come along with a healthy relationship but what Kendall and Sage had was nowhere near healthy. The toxicity and jealousy in it seemed to be getting the best out of both of them causing them to erupt like volcanoes over the smallest things. 

Kendall wasn’t best at handling this kind of situations. She was damaged already and the constant hurting they did to each other wasn’t exactly the best for Kendall’s already fragile mental health. She’s been dealing with various things during her life - anxiety, depression, suicide thoughts and eating problems as well aligned with alcoholism. These factors damaged her to the point where Kendall thought she and her life are worthless. The only times when she didn’t think so low about herself and she actually had a will to live was during the happy times with Sage. However those never lasted too long before the were back at the beginning. 

Maybe it was in their nature. Just like running away was in Kendall’s nature. That’s all she was capable of when things got too rough. Run away. The little red light in her head started beeping, alarming her about it. Two months. It has been two months since she left to Moscow. After all the time she wasn’t there, it seemed as the safe haven for her. Two months later she came back to California, needless to say it wasn’t the best idea because once she stepped in the house it wasn’t Dom who greeted her but Sage with teary eyes begging her to stay just with the look on his face. “I can’t move on.” There was a long pause before Kendall decided what to say because after trying to move on and trying to convince herself she is over Sage, there he was - standing in front of her making her week in her knees with just one look and one sentence.

Kendall looked away spotting her brother behind her now ex-boyfriend. “I can’t do this again,” she whispered, walking past him only to fall into the familiar arms of her brother who cooed her quietly because he was the only one who knew how much she wants to cry, how much her heart aches and craves Sage. Yet despite that she couldn’t be with the love of her life because like two matches they would burn each other over and over again until there would be nothing more but ashes left at the end.

“sorry for the promises i didn’t keep.”

It was Friday night and Kendall was beyond bored. Staying at home during Friday night was like socially killing herself and she refused to do so. However the only party worth going to was her brother’s friend, Kendall’s ex’s party. The two has been broken up couple months already but the pain was still there. Just the thought of someone else getting to call him theirs made her heart ache. It was like every time she thought of him she lost a piece of her heart.

Despite the love she carried for him and the pain they caused each other she wanted to move on. Kendall wanted to experience love again and she wouldn’t let him stand in her way. She was single, attractive and young so going to the party was obvious despite who’s party it was. Kendall wanted to show Sage that she can’t be bothered with that he’s doing or who is he doing it with even though it was just stupid facade. She refused to be that sad little girl anymore.

It took her some time to convince her brother to agree but eventually she did it, knowing the right buttons to push to get what she wants. So she dressed up the best she could, tight baby blue dress to match her eyes and to underline her innocent look before she headed to the party where as she assumed everyone was already either drunk or high, Sage included. She made her way to the rooftop where she sat, drinking the liquid poured into a red solo cup and she watched the stars.  “Sorry for the promises I didn’t keep,” she heard from next to her making her turn towards the familiar voice. She knew it belonged to Sage. Her reply came in a simple shrug even though she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“Which one do you mean? The one about not being with anyone else? The one about us being together always and forever? The one about not breaking my heart? There were too many promises to keep up with them. You didn’t seem to keep any of them… you left me broken. Just like Tristan,” Kendall spat the last words at him knowing it will hurt him but in her head that’s what he deserved. He deserved to feel the pain he caused to her. There were countless nights ever since they’ve broken up that she spent crying herself to sleep and overthinking everything she has done wrong because despite her harsh words it was her who caused the break up in her opinion. “Just- leave me alone. Go fuck another girl or guy that will fill the void inside of you. You were right after all, you really don’t know how to love because if you did you would love me just as much as I’ve loved you…”

“fuck you, you never cared.”

“Fuck you, you never cared.” The words hit her like a truck, like she was flooded with a wave of freezing cold tsunami. It left her speechless and heartbroken, angry and made her brain stop working like it shut down her whole system. She couldn’t believe the boy who made her truly fall in love would every say such harsh words to the girl who he claimed was the one for him. Kendall wanted cry, break things, hit him, scream to the void of her body and kill herself all at once when he spoke those words.

In Kendall’s mind she was always, not matter the circumstances, the wrong one and this wasn’t an exception. His words made her soul crumble and her insides fill up with emptiness. She couldn’t remember when was the last time something made her feel the way his words did. Maybe it was the time her parents left her live only with her brother leaving them money to pay the rent for the house when she was fourteen, maybe it was the time Tristan told her she was just warm mouth around him, maybe it was the time her so called best friend and her own brother betrayed her by hooking up. Maybe but she felt like none of those things have hurt her just as much as his words did.

Kendall backed away a little, not sure if her legs will carry her for much longer. “Is that what you think? Do you really think that about me? That I never cared? I was the one, the only one, who stood by your side when everyone was against you. I was the first one to tell you I love you. I was the one who showed you what love means and that you out of all people deserve it the most,” Kendall finally spoke up, her voice cracking as the tears started running down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say or do… I gave you my everything! I-I know I’m not good enough for you, okay? But I didn’t deserve this. I did care, hell, even right now when you’re looking at me as I am a complete nothing to you I still care because I love you… but you will never love me the way I love you because I am not worth your real love, am I?” Kendall asked with a sob. She knew the moment Sage steps out of her house she will do something to herself that will send her to hospital once again. That’s for sure if she actually survives the way there. “Go. Please just- just go,” she managed to get out of herself already feeling the temptation of the pills in her nightstand or the bottles of bitter liquid in their fridge.

“i won’t let this be how it ends.”

Always and forever. That’s what Kendall and Sage promised each other. For a while it seemed like reality. They thought they could have it all - the marriage, kids, actual future together. However it all was just a big cloud of lies wrapped around their naive minds and always and forever ended up not that long after it started. They both knew a thing like this, actual break up, is most likely to happen. They were both just stupid kids after all. They expected everything to be like in a fairy tale but the reality had to come and rain on their parade eventually.

Every single time this happened, when they had broken up and after couple weeks or months finally got together again it felt like part of the first love spark was leaving her body. By this time there was nothing inside of Kendall. All the light inside of her heart that has been powering up her whole body was gone. It vanished leaving the brunette with an emptiness in her system instead of love.

A loud knocking on the front door woke her up from her nap making her tip toe to the door and open them only to see Sage standing there, bouquet of red roses in his hand and an apology written all over his face. “I won’t let this be how it ends,” he spoke softly. Kendall couldn’t bear the look at him. She couldn’t handle the fact she is the only reason why this boy, who deserves nothing more than pure love in his life, looks so devastated. The worse thing was he was about to feel even more miserable once Kendall formed her thoughts into words and sentences.

“But this is how it end, Sage,” Kendall finally replied with a sigh, her eyes pinning down at her feet just so she didn’t have to witness the heartbreak in his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore,” she added with her voice steady despite how much it hurt her to say such thing. “I don’t want to be with you anymore because it would mean not only hurting myself but also you. We both knew this day will come. I am just one of the girls that have been in your life now. You’ll get over me and a year from now you will be barely able to remember my name.” She could feel herself tearing up his heart with her own words. White lies to help him find something, someone, better than she was because she was more than sure there was someone who was made for Sage and she wasn’t that person.

[ellana-ravenwood]

I don’t talk to fish - Aquaman x reader

Can you one with Aquaman? Where he and the reader know each other but they hate each other an then they fall in love eventually? Requested by @itsrebeca

I accidentaly delated the original message so...yeah. Here we go. It’s really long because I didn’t wanna make more than one part huh. And it kinda sucks...Oh well, I tried. It’s so late...

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

______________________________________________________________________

The first time you met Arthur Curry, aka Aquaman, you were having a nice lunch date at your favorite cafe in Metropolis with your brother, Clark. 

You weren’t happy that one of his super-friend ruined your chance to spent time just the two of you. Since he moved to Metropolis and became Superman, you nearly never saw your brother, and you missed him. You guys have always been very close, and despite his overprotecting you, he just didn’t had time to hang out with you that much anymore...Especially since you stayed in Smallville to take care of the family farm with your ma’. 

You often joked about the fact that you’d have to be in grave danger to see him. Worst thing was, it was true...So when he called you and asked if you wanted to come for the week-end to Metropolis, you said yes without hesitation...The first day, he saved the world from aliens with the Justice League, and only came back late at night. You had to almost dragged him out of bed for him to follow you to the café to have lunch...and now, that Aqua-dude was ruining it. 

-Oh, hey Arthur, something the matter ?

Clark asked, concerned. 

-Is it a problem with...You know ?

-What ? Oh no, no don’t worry. I was just passing threw the neighborhood when I saw you. Thought I’d say hello. And who is your lovely partner ?

-My little sister, Y/N. 

-And I’m not lovely. 

-Oh, the grumpy one eh ?

You glared at your brother, and he looked away, embarrassed. It was kinda true that you didn’t always had the best temper, but talking about it with total strangers, really Clark ? You squinted your eyes at Aquaman. 

-Since he has only one sister, seems like it. 

-I’m...

-The guy that talks to fish, I know. 

-I don’t talk to fish. 

-Whatever you say Waterdude. 

-Aquaman. 

Clark chuckled lightly, looking around nervously to make sure no one heard you two. He was used to your provoking way, but a man like Arthur, a King used to respect and such...

-Play nice guys, and talk a bit lower, we’re in a public place.

-She started it. 

-No I didn't Liquidguy, you did by calling me grumpy !

-But you are grumpy !

-And you do talk to fish !

-I DON'T TALK TO FISH !

The crowd in the cafe suddenly went silent, and everyone was staring at you. You exploded in a fit of laughter. 

-Hahaha, man, Clark, you’re friend is COMPLETELY nuts. Sorry people, he has problems. 

You gestured to you brother to go pay as you dragged Aquaman out of the cafe. 

-You know, you aren’t good at hiding your secret identity fish talker. 

He winced. 

-I don't talk to them ! I mentally force them to do my will.

-Alright Fish whisperer...Wait, you force them to do your will ?

-Yes. I don't actually talk to them. Or whisper for that matter.

-Nevermind the talking situation, you FORCE them to do YOUR will ?

-Like I said. 

-Oh, you’re disgusting. 

-Sorry ?

-Yeaaaah, you act all grand like the fucking King you are, but you force beings to do whatever you want them to do, without knowing if they’re ok with it ?

-That’s not exactly how...

-Disgusting. Uh. I thought Clark’s friends were nice. 

-What are you even on about ?

You scoffed and looked away. Clark arrived and you grabbed his arm, dragging him away, ignoring Aquaman. Your brother tried to say goodbye awkwardly, hoping Arthur wouldn’t be mad at him. 

******

The second time you met Arthur Curry, aka Aquaman, was when he saved your ass. You were on vacation, and went on a boat trip with friends. You weren’t too fond of the oceans, but somehow your friends convinced you and you ended up on a boat in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by deep water full of your only fears in life : sharks. However, everything was going smoothly...at least, until a storm hit. You were too sea sick to even realize the danger you were in, until the boat toppled over and you found yourself thrown into a roaming sea. 

You were never a good swimmer, and you struggle to keep afloat. And...Oh my god, was that a shark fin you saw a bit further ? You couldn’t see any of your friends, and the boat had already disappear in the tall waves surrounding you. AND YES THAT WAS DEFINITELY A SHARK FIN ! You tried to swim away, but the force of the water kept swinging you in every directions. You were quickly getting exhausted, and you were now sure sharks surrounded you...You hated sharks, there were the only thing in the world to actually scare you. You screamed for help, you screamed for Clark to come...after all, he already heard you from Metropolis while you were in trouble in Smallville...But you couldn’t scream much, water invading your mouth. And the fear made you even dizzier...The last thing you saw was four shark fins coming straight at you before you passed out. 

When you opened your eyes, you were on a beach, surrounded by your friends. They were glad you finally woke up. 

-What...Are we dead ?

They all laughed. No. No you guys weren’t dead. A nice and hot blond man saved you and...Blond man ? You whipped around and cursed. Of course. It had to be. 

-Waterdude...

-Aquaman. 

-Whatever fish enslaver...

He rolled his eyes, and your friends looked at you with a : “Really dude ?” look on their face. You rolled your eyes back at them and stood up...just to immediately fall back down. 

Arthur was the only one with fast enough reflexes to catch you before you hit the ground. 

-You, you knew I was deadly afraid of sharks...

-No, I didn’t. I knew I should have...”enslaved” dolphins. 

-Fish monster.

-Dolphins are not fish, they’re mammals. 

For some reason, this made you smile, but you quickly regained yourself and jump out of his arms. He scoffed, and after saying a quick goodbye to your friends, who were in awe of him (ew), he went back to the ocean. 

You were annoyed, but couldn’t help staring at his ass. It was a damn fine ass...He turned around. Damn fine six packs as well. 

-You’re welcome, by the way, grumpy one. I’ll tell your brother your safe. 

-Wait what ?

-Please, do you honestly think I was there by coincidence ? I was only giving back a favor I owed to your brother. Apparently, you tend to have bad luck, he was afraid something might happened. Guess he was right. 

-Tell him to fuck off and to take care of his own business. 

-Yeah, I’ll make sure, so that next time sharks can actually eat you before you drown. 

You shudder. You really didn’t like sharks. 

****

The third time you met Aquaman, aka Arthur Curry, was at a party Bruce Wayne was throwing. He was dashing. You were stunning. You greeted each other coldly, but whenever you thought the other one was looking away, you stared at each other, completely ignoring the date you took with you. Clark noticed, and smiled lightly to himself. He knew since the first time you met what was going to happen. 

****

The fourth time you met Aquaman, aka Arthur Curry, you were sitting on the dock of Metropolis, a bit depressed because your boyfriend just dumped you. For some reason, you didn’t feel sad, you didn’t like him THAT much, but you hated failure. The sole of your shoes were lightly touching the water...and you quickly put your legs back on shore when you saw a fin lurking around, terrified shitless...Until you realized it was actually a dolphin. A beautiful, majestic dolphin. 

-Got ya. 

You turned around and saw him, in casual clothes, not in his ridiculous yellow and green suit. 

-Are you following me ? Like the creature of the Black lagoon ? 

-Wow, I hope I’m a bit more attractive than him...and no, not following you. I was literally just walking around...I hang out a lot on the docks you know, and the occasion to scare you was too good.

-You really are an asshole. And controlling...

-I’m not controlling them. Yes, I will them with my mind to do things, but if they really didn’t want to, then they wouldn’t.

-You mean “your” sharks could have attacked me if they wanted to ?

-Never actually happened for any fish or sea mammals to resist me...I’m their king after all. 

-Such a show off. 

-What, why ? I am their king !

You scoffed. At this point, he was used of this reaction towards him, but still...

-Why do you hate me so ? 

-What ? I don’t hate you. Why do you think that seaweed brain ? 

-Maybe because every time we see each other you...

-Don’t take it personally. I’m like that with everyone. But I guess you being a King, you’re not used to people telling you what they think. 

-...

-I mean, not what they think, just...teasing you and such. I don’t think you’re an asshole...or, you are sometimes but...Hum...

-Teasing where I come from is a bit more enjoyable...

-Ah...uh...I...Hum...

You blushed. He smiled. Damn his smile was cute. 

-I don’t understand you at all. 

-...It’s because I don’t speak fish.

He turned quickly to you, and the smile on your face made him realized you were joking. You had a wonderful smile...

*******

The fifth time you saw Aquaman, aka Arthur Curry, it was on the TV. Him, your brother and the rest of the league were fighting a particularly fierce enemy, and your heart stopped each times it showed the ones you loved in danger. The ones ? With an s ? ...That’s the time you figured out your brother wasn’t your only concern, maybe a certain blond seaman was also in your mind....

*******

The sixth time you saw Aquaman, aka Arthur Curry, you didn’t even mocked him once. He thought it was odd, and when he asked explanation to your brother, Clark just laughed in his face calling him daft. 

********* The seventh time you saw Aquaman, aka Arthur Curry, you had slightly given up on a possible romance with the King of the seven seas. He was a King, he was your brother’s friend, he was a meta-human, and most of all, he thought you hated him...So you were on a date with another man. 

You met Arthur “randomly” in Metropolis’ streets, and he was so awful to you that it comforted you in the fact he actually hated you for real. You ran to your brother, acting as if your date went wrong, when in reality it was your encounter with Arthur that threw you aback. Clark you, and called you daft. 

******

The eighth time you saw Aquaman, aka Arthur Curry, you were completely drunk at your brother’s birthday party. Singing “Show must go on” at the top of your lungs, you were having a good time...until you saw him. You were about to say something extremely mean, your drunkness inducing your cynical and sarcastic usual self, but he spoke first. 

-I’m sorry about...last time. Clark told me you cried. 

-Not because of you, because my date was ruined. 

-Ruined by me so...A bit because of me. 

-Hic...No...Or maybe yes. Completely. 

He was embarrassed, and you didn’t get why. Were you that bad looking right now ? Probably a bit disheveled, maybe your make up wasn’t as good as it was at the beginning of the party but...Why was he looking at you this awkwardly. You made a fake reverence, and he looked taken aback. 

-Sorry your highness, majesty, waterdude, if I inconvenient yourself right now with...the...sight of me...Am I speaking proper English ? Wait, you can’t understand me, I’m not talking fish. 

-I don’t talk to fish...and if I’m being honest, I’m not that sorry I ruined your date...I’m just sorry I made you cry. 

You turned your head towards him, curious.

-Yeah, the guy you were with, he kinda seemed to be an asshole. 

-On the contrary, he was lovely, but he wasn’t you. 

You froze, suddenly realizing what you just said. 

-Wh...What was that ? 

-I said he wasn’t as big of an asshole as you. 

-Oh...

On that note, Clark appeared out of nowhere with a very drunk Wonder Woman on his back and said :

-No, she said he wasn’t you, implying she’d rather go on a date...with you. 

You swore that if you were sure not to break your hand on him, you would have smacked your stupid brother. He widely smiled at you, and you frowned. 

-Diana, Clark has been in love with you for years. 

-Oh that’s so low little sister...

But given the state the mighty Wonder Woman was in, she probably wouldn’t remember anything the next day. Clark suddenly rushed out to the toilet, sensing she was going to throw up. 

You stood awkwardly in front of Arthur, too drunk to actually stand straight, so you were kinda gently swaying from side to side, trying to keep your balance. 

He smile, feeling as awkward as you.

-You...wanna go on a date with me ?

-No. 

-No ? 

-Yes. If there’s no sharks. 

-Promise, no sharks. 

You just both stood there, staring curiously at each other. If over a year ago someone would have told you you’d somewhat ask Arthur bloody Curry out, you probably would have laughed in their faces and ask Clark to punch them into space. 

-So...are you free next friday ?

-No. 

-No ?

-No, I have a date. With a king. 

-A king ? How many kings do you know exactly ? 

-...Are you being an idiot on purpose ?

-What ? Oh. Oooooh. Ok. I see. Yeah. Gotcha. So, next friday ?

-Yes, but I can’t wait. 

-Yeah, strangely enough I’m pretty excited too. 

-No, I mean...

You decided “fuck it”, he liked you enough to ask you out anyway. And it was true, you couldn’t wait. You grabbed his shirt and tugged him down to you, kissing him gently at first, before he deepened the kiss. You pulled away for air moments later, smiling like idiots. 

-So...Are you going to teach me how to speak to fishes ?

You asked, a mischievous smile on your lips. He rolled his eyes, before pulling you in for another kiss that tasted like alcohol and...Sushi. 

**********

The 2976 time you saw Aquaman, aka Arthur Cury, you were slowly waking up in your shared bed. One of his arm was wrapped around your waist, the other was gently resting on your stomach. Your rather big stomach. That stopped your habit of sleeping on your belly. 

His hand was lovingly resting over your stomach, already protecting your unborn child. 

[valhallansim]

In honour of both Mental Health Month (US) and Mental Health Awareness week (UK), I decided to give back to both my lovely followers and the Simblr community as a whole by sharing parts of my own story surrounding mental health issues. I hope some insight into my struggles, dark thoughts and pain can help someone else through their hardships, even if it is just a little bit.

Content warnings for suicide mentions, mentions of abuse, PTSD, depression, alcohol, anxiety, panic attacks, other mental health-related issues and death of a parent.

In hindsight, now that I am a 24 year old adult, a lot of things about my life make sense. Not in a good way, I’m sad to say, but they do. I cried a lot as a baby. As a toddler, I would be months ahead of my peers, have conversations with adults, but be extremely sensitive to the point where I would dissolve into complete hysterics if I wasn’t given proper time to recharge. Throughout my whole school career, including high school, I was always sick at least one day out of five. Headaches, migraines, cramping, terrible anxiety that kept me up at night.

The first psychiatrist I saw was when I was 12. I lived in a complicated household where I was the only one that was being abused, as the oldest of three children. My dad would hit me for reasons that are still unclear to this day, sometimes so bad that on a few seperate occassions blood was drawn or I was locked up in the bathroom with a throbbing, blue arm. It was strange, since my dad was a very nice man. He loved me, and my siblings, and my mother, and his friends, and his co-workers. He would snap, sometimes, seemingly out of nowhere. We will never know why and how, and why I was the only one taking the beatings, but it happened. I was suicidal to the point where I would grab all of the sharp kitchen knives and hide them in my room. I tried drowning myself in the bath tub, or tried to calculate if I were to die if I jumped out of my bedroom window. I remember feeling so terribly empty that I would hide underneath my desk in my room, and cry for hours. I was diagnosed with depression, sent home, and that was that for years.

Then my dad died when I was 17, a month before I would turn 18. It went so ridiculously fast that I would have dreams about him returning home, even if I knew that he was dead. He was ill for hardly 4 weeks before he passed away, and I couldn’t feel. It put a whole lot of perspective into my life. I was about to graduate that same year, and go to university. I didn’t want to. Art has always been a passion for me. I was numb, but I knew I wanted to go to art school.

I didn’t even make it to the start of the first year before I was sent off to a psychiatrist again. I was angry, sad, but most of all angry - I felt misunderstood by my family, and I would have fights with my mother and sister so bad that I tried to suffocate myself with blankets once in my room. I was diagnosed with dysthymia, a condition that can be described as ‘chronic depression’. Therapy helped a bit, and I started art school.

Art school was tough. Especially the first year, where I wanted to perform well so badly that I never missed a day of class, which is highly unusual for me. The second year started, and I could tell something was horribly wrong right away. I would sit on the train to school, and hear sirens. I would see flashes, get migraines, hear screaming or loud buzzing in my ears. I would come home hysterically crying to my mother, wishing the extreme panic would go away. It was too much, but I didn’t listen to my own body. I would take some pain killers, tough it out, and walk to the train station all the same the next day. Looking back, I lost complete control over myself and who I was, as if held at gunpoint by a giant monster named panic. I remember being so anxious about getting on that train, getting to school, doing what I had to do, that I thought I could outrun a train that was coming. The beams had already closed and both the lights and bells were sounding, signaling the train was coming at a high speed. ‘I can make it’, I thought, and I didn’t really care. I had to be on time to catch my own train. I slipped underneath the beams, and without looking I tried to cross the railway. Someone yelled at me to stop. I startled so bad that I stopped walking, and the train passed by maybe only a few paces away from me. I was shaken for the rest of the day, and by the time I came home, I realised what had happened and I cried. Scared to tell anyone, scared that my head could get so far ahead without me and do something so dangerous.

Things didn’t start looking up for me. I had to take time off from school. I missed a lot of classes and disappointed a lot of classmates who I was working with in groups. I tried to do whatever I could, but I couldn’t make myself go to school every single day, no matter how hard I tried. It felt like I was tied to the floor of my house, as if shackles prevented me from going anywhere I wanted. I felt so tired - even to this day, I feel tired, as if my arms and legs are too heavy for my body. I was given medication. It took me a long time to get used to the pills, and even after that, when things became a little bit better, things were still not looking great. I did a lot of tests, and another diagnosis was made. PDNOS, cluster A & C. The diagnosis itself didn’t change much, but it put a whole lot into perspective.

I had to drop out of school. I felt worthless, disgusting, and absolutely useless. One day, I got a blackout so bad that I was gone for an hour. I ‘woke up’ on my bed, not knowing what had happened. My mom told me how she had crowded up against me from behind in the kitchen, trying to be funny with me by joking around. I remember a wave of panic hitting me, but that is all. The nightmares became worse and worse, my teeth grinding so hard in my sleep that I would wake the whole house. I was diagnosed with PTSD.

That was a little over a year ago. To this day, I am still coming to terms with all these different diagnoses, figuring out how I can live a life worth living with them. Together with therapy, counselling and medication, I’m trying to shape my life into something that is do-able for me. Money is always an issue, and so are the worries for my future and what I need to do to get ‘somewhere’. Suicidal thoughts are still there, but with people to talk to and a psychiatrist to help me, I feel confident in staying alive. It is not only my mental health that is keeping me from studying and finishing my degree, a lot of physical aspects (kyphosis, migraines, cluster headaches) certainly do their part as well. Every day, I try to get out there and do something that contributes to my future. I am lucky to have a house where I am welcome to stay for as long as I need to, a loving family, and a talent and interest in art and writing that I could pursue as a freelance career.

What is especially important for me, is to know that things like these take time. Feeling useless and scolding myself for not being where I want to be, does not help at all. Getting better, seeking help and getting where you want to be takes a lot of time. Some people just do it a tiny bit faster. In my therapy sessions I have learnt that the worst thing for me to do is to hate myself for who I am and what it is that holds me back. Scolding myself and berating myself to do better and be better and to suck it up, are only going to make it worse. Be kinder to yourself, my therapist says. Be kinder to yourself, everyone around me says.

Be kinder to yourself.

I say, to you, even if I still find it hard to apply those words to my own life. It is something to live by, though. Be kind to yourself. Seek help if you need to. Reach out to a friend. Know that there are people out there willing to help.

Thank you for reading. I hope you are doing well, now and in the future, and that my story might help some of you, even if only a little bit. ♥

[artificialqueens]

Katya (Trixya) pt 8/? - Skyline

AN: Hello AQ :) Worked on this for a few days so hope you guys dig it! Been trying to write longer chapters so I hope this is up to par! Also a note from the last part, my dumb ass typed “Abby” instead of “Courtney” for whatever-the-fuck reason so I apologize for that confusion. If you didn’t catch it, then good. lol. Alright! Enough of my blabbing, get to reading! And leave me some feedback, I love hearing from you guys <3 -Skyline

Summary: Lesbian Trixya AU based off the incredible movie Carol, set in New York during the 50’s. Katya, a mother struggling through a messy divorce meets young, inexperienced Trixie at a department store and they hit it off.

         Half way through the train ride, Trixie finally got her mascara soaked tears to stop. If only the same could be said for her brain. Why was she so upset? She had no right to be. Katya was just an acquaintance. An acquaintance, yet she felt more of a connection with her than she had with anyone in a long time. Her two years in New York hadn’t been the easiest. When she moved from Wisconsin, being away from her mother was harder than she ever thought it would be. Of course she was glad to get away from her miserable step father. She thought that would be a good enough justification to leave her family. She thought it would get her through.

         She lived the first few weeks depressed up until meeting Matt and his friends. She thought she’d finally felt some sort of contentment. She belonged somewhere in this crazy city. But when she first saw Katya, that’s when she finally felt it. A spark. A feeling that had been missing since she left home. She was forlorn because she hoped this wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end.

         She’d caught a cab outside of Penn Station, and sat in silence on the 10 minute drive to her apartment. The tinge from the street lights casted a yellowish glare in Trixie’s eyes every few seconds. She closed them tight, wishing for the end of this turned-to-crap night to come already.

         The Taxi pulled up to her apartments around 11:30pm. She knew her neighbor’s, one in particular, would chastise her for coming home so late. Hopefully Alyssa would be asleep by now, she prayed. She was ascending the last flight when a startling ring came from the joint phone in the middle of the three apartments on her floor. Great, she thought. If Alyssa wasn’t up, she sure would be now. She hopped quickly up the last two steps and grabbed the phone from the hook as rapidly as she could, as if the damage wasn’t already done. “Hello?”

         But before the person on the other line could answer, a grumpy Alyssa popped her head out from her apartment door, her usual long brown locks wrapped in curlers. “Do you know what time it is, Ms. Mattel?” Trixie looked over apologetically and pressed her hand to the receiving end of the phone. “I’m sorry! It just rang..” Alyssa rolled her giant eyes, shook her head dramatically and slammed her door shut. Thank god.

         Trixie turned her attention back to the call. “Hello?” There was a pause on the line. Trixie immediately knew who it was. Katya was on the other end. She was leaning on the counter in her kitchen, with the umpteenth cigarette of the night between her delicate red painted fingers. Tears still making there way down her raw cheeks.

         “I was horrible.. Earlier. Will you forgive me?” Katya’s words were just above a whisper, but her previous crying was evident in her voice. A small flutter in Trixie’s stomach occurred at the realization of Katya being the one phoning her. She almost hated herself for being so hopeful. Trixie was at a loss for words. She just rambled the first thing that jumped into her head. “Yes… I..I mean..” But her thoughts couldn’t be finished. Katya interrupted anyway.

         “Then will you.. would you let me come see you tomorrow? Evening?” Trixie’s heart fluttered this time. She wanted to rip the smile from her face. She felt so foolish. She was just crying 30 minutes ago from this woman, and now she had butterflies in her tummy because of her. Who else could do this to her? She didn’t know, because no one’s ever made her feel like this. She couldn’t help herself. “Alright. Yes.” There was a short pause but Trixie continued, knowing if she didn’t speak now, she’d loose her courage from not being face-to-face with the older blonde.

         “I wanna– know, I think. I mean I want to ask you things but I’m not sure that you want that.” Katya pulled the phone closer to her, desire expanded in her at the younger blonde’s words. Her voice slightly cracked from crying as she spoke. “Ask me things.. Please…” Out of nowhere a group of rowdy guys started up the stairs making the loudest ruckus. She held the phone to her chest to try and keep the noise out, until they passed her on their journey to their apartment a few flights up. She put the phone back to her ear trying to savor the last few seconds of the call. All she could hear was Katya’s steady breathing. She hangs up the phone.                                                         ……….

         The next day, Katya is rushing down the sidewalks of Manhattan trying to get to her Lawyer’s appointment on time. The traffic had been hell from Long Island, but at least she found a decent parking spot. She scurried up the steps into the large office lobby, her black mary janes clicking on the tiles below her. She smoothed a hand down her crisp black sheath dress and matching blazer, trying to look like she didn’t just sprint here from her car. She greeted her lawyers lovely secretary who took Katya’s red coat and hat from her and hung it in the coat closet.

         “There he is!” Her lawyer’s footsteps heard behind her made her turn and smile. He walked past her and opened his office door to escort her in.“Now will you talk to me?” She says with an almost playfulness to her voice, but she knows this is a serious matter. “ You know you didn’t have to come all the way down here today Katya—” He was cut off by her sharp voice.

         “Just give it to me straight, Max. What am I not to worry about until after the holiday?” She looked him dead in the eyes. He scrambled his way to his desk while speaking. “Paul Charles served some papers this morning, to my complete surprise— Why don’t you eh, sit.” He took a seat at his desk and gestured for Katya to do the same. She just stared at his hand and stayed glued to her stance. A smirk adorned her features. “Why is it people think you’ll take bad news better if you’re sitting down?” A sad smile spread on Max’s face as he settled in his chair. He looked down at the paperwork in front of him and began.

         “Roy has sought an injunction which denies you any access to Violet until the hearing.” Katya’s smirk instantly fades. She rips off her red gloves, those gloves, and slams them to the desk. “What?!” She angrily whispers. He continues robotically. “And I’m afraid Roy has changed his mind about joint custody, he wants sole custody of Violet.” She looks at him with complete disbelief.

         “But–We’ve already come to an agreement on custody. What’s this all about?” She finally comes around the front of the desk to sit in one of the chairs. She can feel the blood draining from her already pale face. “They’re filing papers on the 29th in district family court for the permanent custody petition.” As if the disbelief wasn’t already painted all over her face, disgust takes its place shortly after his words. “Can he do this? Is it right?”

         “I don’t know if it’s right, but it’s legal.” “On what grounds?” Her voice is raised at this point. Max takes his glasses off and places them on the desk. “Listen, let’s wait til after Christmas to—” Again he’s interrupted by the furious blonde. “Max! On. What. Grounds?” Her pained green eyes bore into his for tenth time today. He can’t hide it any longer.

          "They’re petitioning a judge to consider a morality clause.“ Katya can’t hide the surprise and anger in her voice. "A morality— What the hell does that mean?” A small sad laugh escapes his lips but its replaced with a serious expression almost instantly. “Alright. I won’t mince words with you.” He picks up a folder, no doubt holding the so called “morality clause” and flips through some papers. “Courtney Act.” He says sternly and she knows. She knows all too well. She takes a gulp of breath feeling her throat close up. “Also they’re suggesting similar associations with– well they’re alleging evidence of a pattern of behavior.” He says it almost disapprovingly but closes the folder and places it off to the side.

         “Evidence of a pattern? Courtney is Violets godmother! Court— He–” She pauses and rolls her eyes feeling a wave of emotional exhaustion come over her. She looks down to her hands and has a realization. “If he can’t have me, I can’t have Violet. That’s what—” Her thoughts trail off as she stands and turns to face away from Max. Stroking at her temples like she did last night when Roy was screaming in her kitchen. “I’m sorry but, they seem serious.”

         “When is the custody hearing?” She turns back to meet Max’s eyes. He shrugs.“ It’s hard to say with the holidays and the backlog—” “Your best guess Max!” He shrugs again more apologetically. “Not before March. Maybe middle of April?” She stares at him again, frozen in place. “Can I see her?” He closes his eyes in frustration and tries to explain the best he can. “Not– Let me put it this way. It wouldn’t be advisable under the—” “At school?! In an office?!” She desperately tries to find a loophole in this devastating situation. “The issue is not where necessarily..” “Surely a visit, supervised or–” He interrupts her this time.

         “There will be serious allegations, forcing contact before the hearing, you risk inviting further scrutiny concerning your conduct.” She looks at him with utter disgust. “MY conduct? Jesus Christ. I’m a mother for gods sake.” She sits on the edge of his desk and hangs her head, defeated. “A morality clause. Pft.” She whispers to herself. She continues.“I see.” “Do you?” She scowls at him. “No! There’s nothing moral about keeping my child away from me.”

         Katya sits in the office lobby for a while trying to get her bearings. She feels completely hopeless. Nothing can be done until after the holidays anyway. What can she do? She gets up and pulls her coat on. Sliding her black sunglasses on as she heads out of the offices and onto sidewalks of Manhattan. The hustle and bustle of the city is on high today, with the sidewalks crowded and the streets even worse. She starts to slow her walking, feeling her anxiety take over.

         She pulls a cigarette out of the case, but of course struggles to find her lighter anywhere in her black hole of a purse. People in a hurry start to push by and give her dirty looks. All of a sudden the voices, the people, the honking and everything becomes too much. She steps off to the side and walks toward an open shop door that will cover her from the wind. She shakily lights her cigarette and inhales to the utmost capacity her lungs can take.

         She lets the smoky air flow from her lips, while she looks at the store display in front of her. She see’s something in particular that catches her undivided attention. What a coincidence, she thinks to herself. And with that a decision is made for her.                                                          ……….

          Trixie’s in the record store, picking up a little something for a certain someone. Matt wouldn’t stop bothering her so she had him tag along to keep him quiet. He’s outside smoking a cigarette while she picks up the package. Oh how she loves that habit. Not. When it’s Katya though, it’s a different story. She makes it looks so elegant and beautiful. With Matt it just puts her off even more. She turns to see two women standing in the corner of the store. One of them is in a man’s suit and both are staring directly at her, a seedy smile on the girl with the suits face. Were these women what she would become? Was this what Katya was like? No. Katya wouldn’t stand and gawk at other women with a sleezy expression on her face. Katya was subtle and intelligent. And so beautiful…

         Her attention is snapped back to the worker handing her the “package” and sliding it into a bag. She smiles gratefully and walks briskly out the front entrance, not wanting to catch the attention of those women again. Her and Matt stroll down the quiet street, his bike is being trailed along beside him. “Find what you wanted?” He asks her happily. She looks up at him a small smile on her lips. “Yeah, just something for someone at the store.” He hums. “Huh. That’s nice of you.” They keep walking in silence until Matt continues. “You should stop by on Christmas. My mom’s kinda planning on it..” Trixie looks straight ahead a confused expression making its way to her face. “Christmas? It’s for families– I’d feel–I don’t know…” They turn the corner. “You are family Trix.” He says it so surely. Trixie dips into a new conversation, trying to avoid telling him she most definitely won’t be coming for Christmas.

         “I’ve been thinking of putting together a portfolio. Of my pictures, ya know? Start taking portraits even. Apply for jobs. Maybe even at a newspaper, Dan said someone—” She was cut off by Matt. “Have you been thinking anymore about Europe?” Her stare at him turns into one of disbelief and she continues walking, this time ahead of him, ignoring his question. “Trix?” She continues walking. “What?!” He says as if he didn’t realize he’d just interrupted her to talk about something she cares nothing about. She stops finally. She looks ahead a mad smirk on her face that changes to an expression of nothingness. She turns to look him dead on.

          "How many times have you been in love?“ A small laugh escapes Matt’s mouth before he realizes she’s serious. She glares at him still waiting for a response. He shrugs, a smile splayed on his features. "Never… Until you.” Trixie gets angered knowing he’s lying. “Don’t lie! You told me about those other two girls.” His smile fades and he becomes a little defensive. “Come on.. They were—” He leans in as if anyone is even around listening to them. “I had sex with them. It’s not the same thing.” Trixie becomes the defensive one this time.“ Meaning I’m different because– we haven’t gone all the way?”

         Matt looks irritated and closes the small distance between them. “Hey what’s this all about? I love you. That’s whats different.” Any other girl would swoon and praise their man for this kind of declaration. Not Trixie. He smiles, thinking he’s got her. It’s the total opposite. She just gazes at him the same expressionless face she had before. She then turns and starts to walk away again. He trails along after her trying to catch up, so they’re side by side.

         “Have you ever been in love with a boy?” Trixie asks nonchalantly. He looks at her perplexed. “No.” He almost scowls when answering her. “But you’ve heard of it.” She says with a more bored tone to her voice. He locks eyes with her, his exterior becoming more stern. “Of course. I mean, have I heard of people like that? Sure.” She’s angered by the way he addresses it. As if they weren’t humans too. “I don’t mean people like that! I mean two people who fall in love with each other. A boy and a boy, out of the blue.”

         “I don’t know any people like that. But I’ll tell you this. There’s always some reason for it. In the background.” They continue walking, crossing the street. “So you don’t think it could just— happen to somebody, to anybody?” “No I don’t!” His voice becomes defensive again. “What are you saying? Are you in love with a girl?” Trixie’s cheeks flame and she instantly denies it. “No!” She opens her mouth to try and say more but nothing comes. Matt continues.

         “Don’t you know I wanna spend my life with you? Come to France with me, let’s get married!” Trixie is so tired of hearing this. She gets more and more angered each time it’s brought up. She feels this is the breaking point. “Matt! I’m not ready for that! I can’t just make myself.” He looks at her flushed face, bewildered. “What then? Tell me?!” She turns to walk into her apartments, too frustrated to deal with this any longer. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” He watches her go, irritation more evident in his voice as he shouts after her. “Trixie!” She doesn’t look back and she opens the entrance door. She shouts an “I’m sorry” again behind her as the door slams shut.                                                          ………..

         Katya and Courtney met at a small restaurant in the city. She wasn’t positive when she was going to see Trixie so she decided to see if Courtney was up for a little afternoon drink at their favorite spot downtown. Of course she was, plus Katya had to inform her of all the falling apart her life seemed to be doing as of the past few days.

         “I found Violets hair brush underneath my pillow this morning.” The small smile on her face was only betrayed by the traces of sadness in her voice. She took a deep breath and continued. “Full of her hair. She does that you know. To let me know she’s been a good girl and brushed properly. Usually I clean it out but today— for some reason..” She trailed off the devastation clear in her voice now. She had to keep taking deep breaths in order to keep herself from crying. Courtney looked at her with empathy, but disgust concerning her monstrous husband.

         “How could he…How dare he. A morality what?” Courtney questioned, but the sadness was no longer clouding her aussie accent. Her voice was full of anger. Katya looked up and made a face at the mention of the so called morality clause. “Clause, he said.” She takes a dainty sip of her martini and follows with a puff of her cigarette. Courtney’s face turns from anger to regret and remorse. She feels somewhat responsible.

          "Oh Katya.“ She says lovingly and shakes her short blonde curls while animatedly talking. "If I am responsible in ANY way—” She opens her lips but is cut off by Katya who grabs her wrist from across the table. She has the most serious look on her face. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever.” She looks at Courtney with her don’t even try it look. She was solely responsible for her actions and she would deal with what would come on her own. No one else was responsible. No one.

            She pushes her empty glass towards Courtney who grabs the shaker and fills up both their drinks to the top. Courtney see’s the look in Katya’s eyes and knows she doesn’t want to press on the subject further. She takes the hint and drabbles on about a women she met a few weeks back.

          "Anyway. I got my eye on this redhead who owns a steakhouse outside of the city. I’m talking SERIOUS Rita Hayworth redhead!“ Katya wheezes and throws her curly blonde tresses behind her as her head falls back with laughter. She comes back to meet Courtney’s eyes, a giant smirk on her face. "You think you got what is takes to handle a redhead?” Courtney just sips her drink slyly and stares at Katya, whose smiles fades slightly. Courtney notices a small suitcase next to Katya on the ground and nods towards it.

         “You going somewhere?” She asks, a gentle tone to her words. Katya nods.“West, I thought. At least for a few weeks until the hearing.” She answers almost immediately. Katya’s tone turns almost sad again as she continues. “What else am I gonna do?” Courtney stares at her. She catches on.

    "Well I know you don’t like driving alone, so…..“ She stares at Katya who has an unreadable expression on her face and goes on.” She’s young.“ No response. Courtney continues. "Tell me you know what you’re doing?” Katya looks down. She starts to shake her head slowly. “I…. Don’t.” She looks back up at Courtney. A ghost of a smile appears on her red lips. “I never did.” The smile grows to a grin that finds its way to both of the girls faces.                                                         ……….

         Trixie’s cleaning the last of her dishes from dinner when she hears a knock at her door. She hasn’t heard from Katya since the night before, so it could be anyone at this point. She still smooths down her plaid pink skirt and runs a hand through her loosening hair just in case. She struts to the front door, heels clicking against the hardwood floors of her hallway. She opens the door to find a grinning Katya stood at her doorstep. She looks immaculate compared to the dingy halls of her apartments.

         “Your Landlady let me in.” She says after a beat, then looks down to her side and with her high-heeled clad foot pushes forward a suitcase that Trixie just noticed beside her. After she’s successfully pushed it into the apartment she looks up into Trixie’s eyes, her breathtaking smile still intact. “Merry Christmas.” Trixie looks dumbstruck. Katya bought something for her? She looks down at the gift and back up to Katya’s eyes, disbelief plastered all over her face.

         Katya notices and urges her to open it. Trixie drops straight down to her knees in front of the suitcase and begins to open each latch. Excitement and curiosity swirl inside her. She finally flips the last latch and slowly opens the case. Inside is the latest model Canon Camera, that only came out 2 weeks ago, and just about a dozen rolls of kodak film. Trixie slowly picks up the camera as shock fills her entire being. She’s in such disbelief she can barely bring herself to smile. When she finally does she gazes up at Katya and her smile grows instantly, though the shock is still evident in her voice. “Oh Katya.”

        She lets the older woman in and takes all her outdoor-wear and lays it on her bed. She turns on the record player in her room and leaves the door open so the apartment is filled with some background noise. When she comes back Katya’s in her kitchen, looking through some photos Trixie has taken and pinned up to the bare walls. There’s pictures of people at work, men in a barber shop, and so many others. Katya’s gaze finally comes to stop at the picture Trixie took of her at the Tree lot. The development is beautiful. Katya looks beautiful. Trixie comes to stand a few feet behind her seeing her admire the picture she took of her. Feeling completely vulnerable she feels the need to defend her work.

         “It’s not very good, I was rushed.” She’s anxiously fiddling with her shirt sleeve as she watches Katya eye her work. “I mean.. I can do better.” She adds. Katya’s gaze stays firmly on the picture, transfixed by it. “It’s perfect.” She says and it’s almost a whisper. If Trixie wasn’t right behind her she wouldn’t have heard her. Eventually Katya’s stare shifts to a different picture. One of Trixie as a child. She couldn’t be more than 4 or 5 in the photo. Katya’s hand involuntarily goes to the photo and she gently caresses the aging paper.

         “Is this you?” Trixie smiles from behind her and hums a small mhm as a response. Katya realizes her hand on the photo and drops it, her stomach dropping. She wipes away at an imaginary lint on her black dress and turns to walk into the living room. “Do you– have anything other than photo chemicals in the icebox?… I’m feeling—” Her thoughts trail off as she begins to feel a small panic come to rest against her chest. Trixie turns on her heel and opens the fridge. “Sure!” She grabs two beers and a bottle opener from the counter and begins to walk toward the living room. Before she enters she hears Katya take a big shaky breath as she sits on the arm of Trixie’s couch. She hears her breathing labor again and she sets down the beers on the kitchen table.

          She turns and slowly comes to stand in the archway between the two rooms, unsure if it’s her place to comfort her. She hears a small sob escape from Katya’s lips and her decision is made for her. She quickly makes her way to the other blonde and rests her hand on her right shoulder, gently stroking her back. Katya squeezes Trixie’s hand on her shoulder and leans into her touch, letting her tears finally fall. She tells her everything.                                                          …….

         Eventually they move to the roof of Trixie’s apartments, both needing some air after the heavy conversation. Both are wrapped in their coats, a beer in each girls hand. Katya can’t sit still and paces around the roof while Trixie sits on a wooden box, intently listening to the other women talk. Katya’s ramblings slowly come to a stop and Trixie thinks about the situation before responding. “Is there any point in, I don’t know, fighting it?"

         Katya takes in the city skyline in front of her and gently shakes her head. "The injunction? No.” She takes a sip of her beer and continues to ogle the beautiful lights in the distance. Trixie shakes her head in annoyance. How could anyone be so cruel? To take someone’s child away? “I feel useless. Like I can’t help you or offer anything.” Katya turns her attention to the younger blonde a stern expression taking over her delicate features. She raises her voice slightly as she speaks. “It has nothing to do with you.” Trixie looks down in defeat and leans against the brick chimney behind her. Katya see’s her sadness and continues.

         “I’m going away for a while.” Trixie looks up at her, confused. “When? Where?” Katya smirks and lets a half laugh escape her mouth and gazes back at the young blonde. She shrugs. “Wherever my car will take me. West…. Soon.” She looks down at her beer and opens her mouth to continue. She pauses but finally just spits it out. “And I thought, perhaps, you would like to come with me?” Trixie’s downcasted stare comes back up again to meet the older womans crystal green gaze. They stare at eachother almost expressionless for a few moments. Katya breaks the silence, eager for an answer. Any answer. “Would you?”

          Trixie just nods her head then breaks into a stunning smile. “Yes. Yes I would.” Both their smiles could light up the night in an instant. Trixie’s gaze turns upward. Katya’s eyes follow to see a few snowflakes flutter down from the black night sky above. Is this their sign?

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Runaway Part 1

hey guys this is a new story i’ve started and i wanted to know what you thought, i have two parts written and part 2 is definitely better lol but i wanna get a feel for how people like it

I sat watching the people pass by, time seemed to move faster than I had once remembered it.  Then again my life wasn't the same as before this all happened.  I rubbed my face and frowned at the feeling of the thick beard  covering my cheeks, where had I gone wrong?  I had a loving fiance, a very successful band, and four friends who would pick me up whenever I needed them most.  Now though?  I was living on the streets of the place I grew up, the only positive was that no one recognized me.  I lost all of my money to drinking, a drug addiction I was forced to break once I had nothing left.  My fiance had frozen the bank accounts to help get me sober, and when it was too late I left.  I hadn't seen her nor my friends since the death of one of my best friends, how could I have been so stupid?  I let my life go because I couldn't cope with what had happened.  

I pulled my legs closer to my chest and sighed, the sun had set a little over an hour ago, leaving the sky a beautiful deep orange.  I sighed softly and looked out towards the sidewalk where the crowds of people seemed to thin out.  I could only hope that no one I knew, or anyone that recognized me would walk by and see the mess I had become.  I had cut off contact with everyone after everything happened, I couldn't bear to look at anyone the same.  I was a broken man who couldn't deal with reality.

“That movie was horrible and you know it” I froze at the sound of an oh so familiar voice, maybe he wouldn't even stop and notice me. “It was not, you just didn't pay...Matt?” A second voice spoke up, sounding closer than I was expecting.  How was I going to explain this?

I looked over slowly and waved, what a great way to greet your friends after not speaking for the last two years Matt.

“Holy shit, it's really you” Zack ran over and dropped down next to me, he was wearing a Vengeance University hoodie, how fitting. “Hey Zack, hey Brian” My voice croaked out from lack of use.  The last time I had even spoken to someone was over two weeks ago. “What happened to you?” Brian stood behind Zack with a shocked expression across his features, his eyes wide with awe. “I fucked up, I lost everything” I had lost a substantial amount of weight, my arms were nowhere near as toned as they once were, and my waist was the smallest it had been since I was a teenager. “Why don't you come with us?  We can get you something to eat, and a shower” Brian held his hand out and smiled softly.  What else did I have to lose?

I grabbed his hand and felt him pull me off the ground, I think he was expecting me to have more weight than I did.  His eyes widened as he shoved his hands into his pockets  Zack turned and led us over to where his car was, I felt like a total moron for letting them see me as the mess I was.  I hadn't had a decent in meal in over a week, only managing to gather up enough money to get a burger or two from McDonald's.  I was a completely disgusting human being, I didn't deserve the friends I had.

Brian and Zack talked freely as he drove, he had to of moved since the last time I saw him.  I wonder what else had changed between my friends. Would any of them even want to speak to me after what happened? After I disappeared without a trace, no phone, no money, nothing but the clothes that were on my back.  How could I just let go of my life so easily?  I had everything I could ever need and I let it all go because I couldn't handle the death of my best friend.  I was weak, and pathetic.  

“We're here” Zack said as he parked, the house we were at felt foreign to me, I knew this was a bad idea.   “I'll find some clothes for you, call and order some takeout” Brian slipped out from the car and walked inside.  

Swallowing thickly I stepped out from inside the car, the air felt crisp.  It was definitely going to be a cold one tonight.  I followed Zack inside and gasped softly, the inside was more beautiful than the outside, it suited Brian perfectly.  It hit me then, if Michelle were to see me, she would go and tell Val.  She didn't deserve to see the mess I was, I wouldn't be surprised if she had found someone else and settled down, the pain of the thought caused my chest to ache.  Then again it could've been the cold I had for over two weeks.  Brian came back down to where I was still rooted and handed me a small pile of clothes.

“Bathroom is at the end of the hall, I put out a new toothbrush you can have, just make sure Pinkly doesn't follow you inside” Brian spoke softly, clapping his hands together as the small maltese wandered into the room.

I nodded slowly and made my way down to the bathroom, stopping once I found what I assumed to be Brian's room, it felt so welcoming and homey.  I shook my head and walked into the bathroom that was two doors down, I should just stay the night and leave before he wakes up in the morning.  At least then Brian could be without the burden that I am.  I shut the door and turned on the shower, steam filling the room quickly.  Stripping off my clothes felt foreign, I hadn't been able to shower in a little over a month.  The spray from the shower loosened every muscle in my body, I could spend hours cleaning myself if it felt this nice.  The dirt and grease dripped from my hair when I lathered shampoo along my head, I'd have to wash my hair a couple times at least.

I dried off and dressed in the soft clothes that Brian had given to me after I felt cleaner than I ever could, my clothes sat in a dirty heap by the door.  What would he even say about this?  No, I can't think about all of that right now.  I dropped the towel in a basket I assumed was used for laundry and headed down to where Zack and him were, except before I could step into the living room I heard three voices talking.

“Johnny, he doesn't look the same.  I don't know what happened to him but he's changed” Brian's voice broke on the last word.  I couldn't handle seeing anyone else, word would get out and things would end badly. “He's our friend Brian, we should've been there for him, when all of this happened to us” Johnny pleaded with Brian, his voice raising an octave as he spoke. “I'm sorry dude I can't, he's already ready to run at a moments notice. If he even finds about what Val did he'll go mental” Brian sighed and crossed his arms. “It's alright Brian, I expected people to find out eventually” I turned the corner and looked between the three other men.  

Brian's eyes widened with horror, Johnny's with shock and sadness, and Zack's watered in the slightest.  I didn't want to feel as if they had to baby me.  Johnny ran over and wrapped his arms around me tight, his grip tightening as I wrapped my own around his shoulders.

“I'm so sorry, I can't ever excuse the horrible shit I did to you guys” This was the moment I needed, to truly apologize for what I had done. “Matt don't-” “Brian I skipped out on life for the last two years, I let drugs and alcohol take over every fiber of my being.  If Val hadn't frozen my accounts I would've possibly killed myself, hell you should all hate me for what I did.  Fuck, I hate me Brian” I could feel my eyes sting with oncoming tears, I just couldn't cry, not now. “Do you want us to catch you up on everything?” Brian asked as he sat down.    What could it hurt to know?  I nodded slowly and sat down with Johnny and groaned, my chest aching as I sunk into the cushions. “Alright, well Johnny got engaged, VU has been going amazing for Zack, Michelle and I are no longer together for reasons we are keeping private. Umm, Val got married about a month ago, she has all of your stuff in storage, accounts are still frozen until you're ready to take over, and...Matt are you okay?” I could barely hear Brian's words, everything started to feel fuzzy.  I wonder if it was the news about Val or soaking in all the information,  I should've expected her to move on.

“The house, what did she do with the house?” I looked at him nervously, did she sell it, or was she still living there? “She locked it up when she moved out, the keys are in my office” Brian stood up and made his way down to what I assumed was his office.  I could go back home and pretend I didn't do any of this.  I could just be myself again.

Zack walked over slowly and hugged me tight, I missed out on so much because I was selfish.  Wrapping my arms around Zack I sniffed and gripped his shirt tight.

“He left Michelle after you went missing, he was always out searching for you, but when he couldn't find you he went into a depression” Zack rubbed my back slowly, his words were soft whispers. “He thought you were dead when you hadn't turned up after a few months, he blamed himself for what happened to Jimmy, and then what happened to you” I felt the tears run down my cheeks in small rivers, I knew I was going to soak his shirt but it hurt hearing the truth. “I was too ashamed to come home, I saw you guys a few months ago but I felt like a horrible person for what I caused so I left before you could notice me” I pulled away from Zack gently and held my hands on his shoulders, his eyes were red with tears.

“Just stay, for Brian's sake” There was an underlying tone to Zack's words.  A hidden message that I had to figure out.  And I would.

[4jimin]

Let The Walls Break Down | 2

CHAPTER II: Broken  | crossposted on ao3 Summary:  "Regrets collect like old friends Here to relive your darkest moments I can see no way, I can see no way And all of the ghouls come out to play And every demon wants his pound of flesh (...) But it's always darkest before the dawn." – Shake It Out, Florence And The Machine Length: 9,3k words

Jungkook woke up to the sound of Yoongi's voice calling him. "Hey, Jungkook-ah, let's go. Time to get up. What happended today? You're always the first waking up." Jungkook groaned and covered his head with the blankets around him. His body was so heavy it seemed like a whole ship had parked on it. He wanted to stay on bed for the rest of his life. "Hey, come on." Yoongi shook his legs, "Everyone's already ready for breakfast. Let's go, we have to leave in thirty if we want to get to the airport on time." Jungkook sighed and sat up. The sudden clarity hurt his eyes, but they quickly got used to it. The room was empty. The bags were nowhere to be seen and Yoongi was right in front of him, showing a relieved face. "God, finally! I was getting worried about you being in a coma. Go wash yourself now so you can eat." he was wearing an all black outfit which made his body look skinnier. "I'm not hungry." Jungkook had to put all the strength of his body to let those words out. His throat was dry. "What? Are you crazy? To hell if you think you're skipping meals. One Park Jimin is already enough for this group, thank you very much." he took the blankets from Jungkook's body and threw it on Taehyung's bed as he walked to the door, "And get up already!" Jungkook sighed again and fell backwards on the mattress after he heard the door close. He wondered what they would do if he decided to stay in that hotel for the rest of his life. At least, he would never need to face Jimin again. God, he probably was thinking terrible things about Jungkook now. With reasons. The guilty hit him hard, so he squeezed his eyes shut in a failed attempt of making it go away. Memories of the last night invaded his mind without consent. He saw Jimin's hurt expression once again and felt like his heart was being stabbed non-stop. He never had fucked things up so bad. Everything was flowing perfectly – both of them at ease; Jimin smiling smiles too beautiful for words –, why he had to freak out? So stupid. A stupid child, that's exactly what he was. He hurt one of the people he loved the most just because he wasn't capable of controling his own goddamn feelings. Sorry was a really insignificant and small word to express all the pain clutching his soul in that moment. But above it all, he was angry. Angry with himself and with the rest of the world. He remembered Taehyung entering the room ready to kick the shit out of him. He remembered him saying how Jimin was in pain. And crying. Because of Jungkook. Once again, he was unable to stop the guilty along with the jealousy taking hold of his body. Of course he would call Taehyung. Taehyung, the person he trusts the most in this world. Taehyung, who would never hurt him. The perfect Kim Taehyung, not me, the stupid kid who cannot even shut his stupid mouth up. He heard his phone vibrating somewhere in the room. It was probably one of the boys rushing him to get ready. Not Jimin. Of course, not Jimin. Jungkook wondered if he would ever want to talk to him again. Probably not. Jungkook didn't even blame him. He also wouldn't want to. But the simple thought of that happening scared him like hell. Would Jimin stop playing with him? Would he stop laughing at his lame jokes? Would Jungkook never be able to see his smile again and know it was directed to him? Would he never look at Jimin's smiling eyes and feel like he was floating in the air, because Jimin would never smile at him again like that? Never? He could not handle that. The tears filled Jungkook's eyes without him realizing. They overflowed the sadness from his heart as the grip over his soul got tighter. And tighter. And tighter. He wrapped his arms around his chest in hopes the pain would shrink. But it didn't. •••• "Hey! Look who's finally here!" Namjoon exclaimed when Jungkook found his place on the table. "Morning, sleepy head." Hoseok patted his hair and smiled warmly. He gathered the courage to look up. His heart was pounding like crazy, but it settled down after his brain realized Jimin wasn't there. He looked around the restaurant searching for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Jimin-hyung?" Jungkook asked to no one in specific. "He returned to the room with Taehyung until the hour we need to leave." Of course. Jungkook said nothing more than an “oh”. A bitter taste settled inside his throat, hampering him from putting anything in his mouth. "Jungkook-ah, you're not eating." Yoongi realized. He looked away. "Told you I'm not hungry." Seokjin's expression switched from relaxed to concerned in one second. "What do you mean? Your last meal was last night! There's no way you're not hungry." Hoseok agreeded. "Mhm-mhm. Jin's right. What's with you? Feeling sick?" he extended his hand to Jungkook’s forehead, who slapped it away. He was tired of being treated like a child. Hoseok gave him a hurt look, making him sigh. Great. One more to the list. "I'm sorry, Hobi-hyung." he apologized and returned his attention to the rest of the group, "But I'm fine. I just don't feel like eating, ok? It's not a big deal." Namjoon, who was quietly eating his meal, looked at him like he knew something. Jungkook felt exposed. "Did something happen last night?" He nervously got up. "God, no! Can I just don't want to eat? I mean, I'm the one who decides that, it's my body and life, after all." Suddenly, a familiar smell wrapped the air around Jungkook's body, making his lungs forget how to breathe. His heart started that crazy race against time once again, hitting his ribs desperately. His hands started sweating; when he heard Jimin's casual voice. "What's up?" Jungkook wasn't able to look his way. He didn't want to see the contempt directed at him inside those eyes. "Jungkook is refusing to eat." Yoongi said, finishing his last piece of bread. "So what? He's not a kid, he can take care of himself." Jungkook heard Taehyung's voice say. He looked at his direction unconsciously. Bad mistake, "The manager is calling us. It's time, let's go." Jimin was by his side, hands inside his hoodie’s pocket and sunglasses hiding his beautiful eyes. Jungkook couldn't tell if he was looking his way, but he felt paralyzed anyway. Somehow, seeing Jimin after everything, made the memories inside his head even more palpable. All of them invading his thoughts in blastering waves of pain and reality. He remembered every word said. Every expression of hurt. Every inch of sorrow inside his eyes. Everything. Jungkook just realized he was not breathing when Taehyung pushed Jimin away with an arm around his shoulders. His lungs gasped for air and he felt dizzy. "Are you okay?" a hand was softly put on his arm, bringing him back to reality. "Jungkook?" it was Jin. "Yes." he tried to smile, "Yes, hyung, thanks." Jin didn't look convinced. He called for a waiter and asked at his best attempt of english: "Hey, can you pack? To home." "Sure." the man answered with a smile. "Hyung, there's no need to–" "Who is the hyung here? Huh? That's right, it's me, so you don't get to complain." Jin did the same Taehyung did with Jimin just seconds ago, and wrapped his arms around Jungkook's shoulders. "Don't get so worked up about it. We just care a lot about you. No one wants you to get sick or anything." He felt guilty. They just wanted to help. Like always. "I know. I'm sorry if I was rude, hyung. I really am." Seokjin smiled at him and Jungkook knew everything was fine again. He silently wished things could be fixed that easily with Jimin. But it didn't really matter how hard he wished it. He knew it couldn’t. •••• Jungkook never knew exactly how he expected for Jimin to act after their fight. He imagined a lot though. He imagined him pissed as fuck, not wanting to talk with anyone. He imagined him super sad at a corner, increasing Jungkook’s feeling of guilty. He imagined him both pissed and sad as fuck, ignoring everything around him and making the air heavy. But Jungkook never imagined a normal Jimin, with smiles and giggles all over the place. A normal Jimin, sharing jokes only he laughed at and playing with everyone like nothing happened at all. Jungkook felt disbeliefed. What if he dreamed? Or... Maybe he was just crazy? What if he was having lapses of amnesia? God, please no, he was so young. But... That wasn’t really possible. Because the pain was still there. Realer than ever. Because he was still feeling the desolating emptiness inside his soul. And it didn’t seem like going away any time soon. Because Jimin was being happy and smiley with everyone, but not with him. In matter of fact, he didn’t even look Jungkook's direction once. So there was no way he had dreamed. But, still... Realizing Jimin moved on so fast, while he was still there rehashing his so-recent wounds bitterly, made him feel far more than depressed. He felt alone. Alone in his feelings. After all, he was the only one suffering about everything. Jimin was laughing and joking around with Hoseok and Taehyung. Because he just needed one night of healing to go through his sentiments for Jungkook. He probably didn't even love him. Like he always said, for him, Jungkook was just cute. He was the maknae. And that’s how Jimin looked at him. The maknae. An immature child. Not as a man. Probably not even as a friend. He felt sad. Jimin just wanted to kiss him because he was cute. Not because he liked him. Because he was cute. He didn't understand why the realization of that hurt so much. But it did. Jungkook closed his eyes trying to ignore the feelings overflowing from his body and failed miserably. He leaned his head on the window of the van and looked at the scenery across the road. It was beautiful. Beautiful and natural. Looked like a painting, with arrangements of blues and greens in different shades; dancing in front of his eyes. He looked at the distant and thin line where the trees mixed with the sky and wondered if the clouds there were close enough for him to touch. He took his camera out of his handbag and started taking pictures, wanting to save that view not only in his memory. But, for some reason, he wasn't getting the perfect shot, which completely frustrated him out. "Fuck." he lowered the camera to his lap to see the pictures taken. They were not good enough. Not even one of them. The car got silent all of a sudden, so Jungkook looked up to see what had happened and realized all the members were staring at him. Including Jimin. He blushed. "What?" he asked returning his gaze to the screen of the camera and feeling like his heart was about to explode. "Jungkook, are you okay? You've been acting weird since you woke up." Yoongi stated, but left no room for Jungkook to answer, redirecting the questions to Jimin. "You two were together last night, right? Did something happen?" Jungkook wasn't looking their way, but he felt Jimin's gaze on him, burning his shoulders and sending shivers down his spine. He held the camera tighter, feeling extra anxious. Jimin remained silent, so Jungkook took a deep breath and looked up. He was staring at him with an indifferent expression molding his face. For a moment, it seemed like they were the only ones inside the car – or probably was because, for a moment, Jimin was all Jungkook had been capable of seeing. But it was just a moment. Jungkook blinked and it was gone. "Not really." Jimin looked away at Yoongi's direction, "But why don’t you ask him? He has a mouth, you know." "It's not like he is going to tell us if something happened." Namjoon said. "Yeah, he is always like that." Hoseok's voice was heard from the front seat. "Can you please stop talking about me like I'm not here? I already said I'm fine." Jungkook packed the camera while complaining. Jimin looked at him again. "See? The kid is fine. Let him be. He has no reason to be like that anyway. He is probably just moody." The last sentence hurt Jungkook like he never thought it would. He wanted to say he wasn't fucking moody or whatever Jimin wanted to call it. He wanted to say he was in pain, like he never had been before. He wanted to say he was sorry for everything he said. He wanted to explain how those words were not true. Not even a single one of them. He wanted to say he didn’t really know how to deal with his feelings properly, and that's why he would always mess everything up. He wanted to say he needed help – Jimin's help. He wanted to say he didn’t want to stop talking with each other. He wanted to say he wanted to be with Jimin the way they were last night. Because he liked him too much to let go or to forget. But he said nothing. Jungkook felt invisible hands resting around his throat. They represented nothing but the threat of suffocating him anytime. The fear and the anxiety made him want to cry hard. He felt all those restrained feelings mix in his stomach and burden his shoulders. Why was it so difficult to pull them out? Why things had to be like that? No one ever warned him about it. No one ever warned him about all the pain and angst waiting for him on his young years. He never asked for them. He wanted them to disappear. He wanted it so bad he started feeling uneasy. So he just put his earbuds on and let the music guide him through the depths of his mind. It was not an enjoyable ride.

••••

Jimin never thought being away from Jungkook would be so difficult. He never thought the lack of his presence would hurt so much. But, surprisingly (not really), it did. It was during a cold night, when everyone was reunited on the living room for a movie session, that he realized how much he was attached to the younger member. He wasn't properly talking with Jungkook for three days now. But apart from the bothersome and unusual feeling of emptiness inside his chest, he was doing extremely fine (not really). Actually, when he woke up the morning after their argument, he wasn't feeling exactly sad. Don’t get it wrong, of course he was sad, but above it all, he was angry. It was a shock, considering soaked was a very soft word to characterize his pillow's state, after the sea of tears that came out of his eyes the other night. But Jimin couldn’t help it. He was angry for all the cruel words Jungkook told him. After all, he was his hyung, and that alone should have been reason enough for him to never even think of saying those things to him. Even though, what had hurt the most, was that Jimin thought they were friends. However, after their fight, he realized he was only deluding himself. So he got mad. Jungkook fooled him. All these times. He was being played at, but he misunderstood it with friendship. Or probably, it was always very clear for everyone to see it, but he was too much stupidly in love to realize. Oh, and he was right. Everyone knew it. He confirmed it by scrowling through comments of their Bangtan Bomb's. Jimin is so annoying, why does he keeps running around Jungkook like a dog begging for attention? Lol, so lame. Jungkook clearly hates Jimin, look at how he ignores him. Jungkook looks so done with Jimin, he's so pathetic. Hahaha It must be really annoying to have someone hanging on you 24/7. Jungkook's smile around Jimin is so forced, why doesn't he just give up? It's written on his face, Jungkook hates Jimin. He knew they were right now. He could see it. Literally. There were compilations on youtube of Jungkook ignoring and looking extremely uncomfortable around him. And while realizing all of that, Jimin felt nothing but mad. Mad at all those stupid videos and at all those stupid haters. Mad at Jungkook, for being such an asshole. Mad at himself, for looking like a complete idiot for everyone to see. What a stupid fanservice. Yet, at that night, he couldn’t help the longing and the sadness. Because Jungkook was so far away and he was not used to that. During all the movie sessions Seokjin and Hoseok forced them to do, Jungkook would come straight to Jimin to hug him beneath the blankets. The first time, Jimin asked him what he was doing and Jungkook simply answered he was missing home and that Jimin smelled like it. But after the third time, it became an habit. Jimin was so used to the warmth around his chest at those nights, he almost let out a hurt sound of complaint when Jungkook found his place on the mattress by Namjoon's side – far away from the couch they had always shared. But then, he remembered they were not talking. He remembered they were not friends. And he couldn’t stop the intense pain on his heart when he asked himself if all those moments when they cuddled watching some lame movie had been a lie. He tried to forget the cruel videos he watched on internet and brought back from memory all the happy moments he and Jungkook lived together. All the awaken nights talking about nothing and everything at the same time. All the awaken nights practicing at the studio and motivating each other with jokes and smiles to ease the burden of fatigue on their shoulders. All the times they went out together – just the two of them – and laughed like there was no tomorrow to come. Jimin wondered, while the lack of warmth by his side started making his body feel incomplete, if all those moments had been a lie too. And suddenly, the living room was too much cold and too much tight for him to stay there. "I'm tired." he got up and realized his lungs were running out of breath, "I'm going to bed." "Hah? What do you mean you're tired? It's only eight!" Namjoon asked surprised. Everyone's gaze were on him. Jimin felt uncomfortable. He fixed his eyes on his hands trying to ignore the anxiety growing bigger inside his stomach. "I just am." and having nothing more to say, he started walking to his room with an awkward feeling settled on his chest, "Good night." He made the way to his bedroom almost running. But somehow when he touched the door knob, his body froze in place. He closed his eyes and the memory came rushing in. He could clearly hear both his and Jungkook's laugh, while his heart beat on his ears. "Hyung, give me back!" they were running around the house; laughing like two kids from kindergarten. "This is the best thing ever." Jimin entered the room like a bullet and jumped on his bed while standing his arm up, so Jungkook wouldn’t reach the book on his hands, "I can't believe Jeon Jungkook has a diary!" "Shut up! This is old!" Jungkook tried to sound mad, but the grin on his lips gave it away, "Give me back already!" "Well, if it's old, guess you won't mind it I take a quick look..." Jimin lowered his arm and pretended he was opening the diary, but in a blink of an eye the object wasn't on his hands anymore. "Ha! Don't underestimate me! I'm faster than you!" and just like that, the younger boy ran away from Jimin's reach, lifting the book on his two hands like it was a trophy. "Come back here, you bastard!" Jimin jumped back to the ground and followed Jungkook through the living room. Namjoon was resting there reading a book and sighed heavily at the loudness. "I swear to god, if you two break this television again, I'm disowning both of you!" Being completely ignored by the two kids playing, Namjoon was left with no choice but move to his bedroom and pray to heaven for them to not break anything. Like he was one to talk. Jimin jumped at Jungkook's back and stretched his arm, trying to reach the other boy's hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t reach it. Jungkook was laughing like that was the funniest thing on earth. "Hyung, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you that, but I'm already taller than you for a long time now. My arms are longer and I'm stronger too." "Wha– You brat, I'm gonna end you!" Jimin closed his grip around Jungkook’s chest, hanging like a koala, but the latter started walking backwards and threw both him and Jimin on the couch behind them. "What are you doing? Get off, you're heavy!" Jimin shouted feeling the weight of the maknae's body on him. Jungkook sat straight, but his body was bended forward as the sound of his laugh filled the room. Jimin tried to stop the smile on his face when he saw the corner of the younger's eyes crinkle cutely and his nose scrunch in that adorable way, but he wasn't capable of it. His mouth curved into a smirk unconsciously. Jungkook was looking so pure and sweet Jimin felt like holding him tight on his arms and asking him to never stop smiling like that. But he didn't. He just stayed there, staring at the boy's beauty, while said one tried to catch his breath. When he finally did, he looked at Jimin's face with the most beautiful smile he had ever given and said: "Hyung, I think you're one of my favorite people in the world." The grief of the memory hurt Jimin's heart like never before. He didn’t want to accept it was also fake. It couldn’t be. He remembered how, after that, they laid on the couch together and read the diary laughing at the things 12-years-old-Jungkook wrote. He remembered how Jungkook allowed him to see the private things of his past on that diary; how he felt trusted and loved. Jimin couldn’t accept it was all a lie. He couldn’t accept Jungkook never liked him at all. Why would he fake such a precious feeling? It's not like Jimin ever expected Jungkook to love him the way he did, but to not even consider him as a friend? It couldn't be possible. It just couldn– "Why did you want to kiss me? It's just because you think I'm cute or because you actually like me?" a silent pause of horror happened, "Oh my god, you like, don't you? Of course you do, why else would you keep chasing me everywhere?" The bitter tone of Jungkook's voice was still resounding inside his head. He could still hear the disgust on his voice. It was still there, and it was not going away. The tears flooded his eyes before he could avoid it. "Stop being so pathetic..." Jimin murmured to himself while scrubbing his eyes hardly to shove the tears away, "Grow up already..." But he wasn't in control anymore. His heart kept racing stupidly, helping the pain on his chest to worsen. His hands kept sweating non-stop. His eyes kept being filled with insistent tears. His mind kept sinking him into memories he was trying so hard to forget. Jimin was drowning. "Hyung?" The touch on his shoulder made his lungs remember what they existed for. But just for a moment. "Can we talk?" Jimin looked at the owner of the voice and suddenly he couldn’t breath again. Somehow, though, he managed to mask everything in one second and give Jungkook a cold look. Except for the tears. "Why? Something about the group?" Jungkook looked nervous, but Jimin ignored that. He is just acting. Don't fall for it. Don't be played at again. "I... No, it's nothing... Nothing like that." he looked at his feet and hid his hands inside his hoodie's pocket. His voice was low. "Why... Why are you crying?" But how can he act that good? Pretending like he cares. He is just a kid, right? Why can't he be genuine about his feelings? "I'm not. What do you want?" "I... Mhm... It's about what..." Jungkook avoided Jimin's gaze and looked at the ceiling above them, "It's about us." No... Remember everything he told you. He is not a kid anymore. He is growing up and he knows exactly what he is doing. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. "I have no interest in that." Jimin gave him his back and started spinning the knob to open the door, but Jungkook was quick in engulfing Jimin's hand on his own and closing the door again. "Hyung, please... I... Please..." Jimin closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't want to look at Jungkook, so he kept his gaze on the piece of wood in front of him. Their hands were still touching and the sensation of it gave Jimin chills. He felt the warmth spreading through his arms and tracing its way down his chest. Don't fall for it. He avoided the butterflies on his belly and the feeling of ease the touch was giving him. "What do you want?" he repeated. He sounded tired. It wasn't his intention, but he did it anyway. He couldn’t help it. Those three days of anger and bitterness had been so emotionally and metally exhausting, Jimin felt like he was carrying a whole other life on his shoulders. It weighed so much. He just wanted to rest. He waited for the answer, but Jungkook remained silent. He looked back at the boy to understand why, but he was not looking at Jimin anymore. Jungkook's hand fell by his side and Jimin instantly felt the freezing cold air spread through his fingers. He supressed the feeling of disappointment trying to take over his heart. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Hhm... Good night." And just like that he was gone. Jimin allowed himself to feel sad. He was so sick of trying to pretend he wasn't. But at the same time, he felt thankful. Thankful he didn’t have to deal with that issue in such a waisted state of mind. His hopeful mind thought that maybe Jungkook had seen that too and presumed the same. And for that reason, the possibility of maybe forgiving him one day quickly passed through Jimin's mind. He shook it away. Don’t fall for it.

••••

A week had passed without Jungkook exchanging a single word with Jimin. The frustration inside him had long ago transcended his body and exhaled through his pores in a way it started being visible on every action he made. Taehyung was the first one to get worried. Jungkook felt thankful he wasn’t mad at him anymore. It was already very difficult dealing with the lack of one of his best friends, but dealing with the absence of both? Jungkook knew he wouldn’t be capable of standing that. Taehyung started acting normal with him again one day after their fight – one day after he almost punched Jungkook to death in the bathroom. It would've been a really awkward situation if Jungkook wasn’t for long used to it. That's just how Taehyung was. He was the kind of person who felt everything extremely and intensely, and who had to express it all right away, because he was unable to block a feeling. He was a really transparent person, which was what made him so approachabe and easy to deal with. Jungkook didn’t know if that was the reason why they got along so well and why he liked him so much, but apart from it, he loved the fact Taehyung was the way he was. Being the shy little kid Jungkook was when he first stepped in Seoul, Taehyung was the exact person he needed in his life. He needed a real friend, someone who wouldn’t look up on him for being the maknae, someone he could relay on without worrying if he was being a bother or not, someone who would keep up with his remanescent childsh ways – whose he was so reluctant to get rid of, since he never had the proper chance of experiencing it –, and someone who wouldn’t judge him even if he did something lame – because Taehyung would be the person doing the lame thing with him. And that’s why he knew he wouldn’t stand being away from Tae. Because, somehow, he got attached to him in a level he didn’t knew how to function well without him anymore. "What’s with that ugly face, huh? Are you sick?" Taehyung bended his body to look at Jungkook's face closely, who was lying pretty dead on the couch. "I'm recognizing the symptoms of Park Jimin's disease." Jungkook brought his hands up to punch the boy's thighs in front of him, but said one ran away, so his arms just hung on the air for a moment before falling by the sofa's side. "Shut up. I'm fine, I'm just tired." "Oh, really? Okay, so I guess you don’t want to know how Jimin is doing after one week without talking to you..." A glimpse of life emerged on Jungkook's dead body, making him sat straight in a heartbeat. "What? Why that all of a sudden? He talked about me? What did he say?" "Jesus... It's already on the final stage... Jungkook-ah, it's really bad, I'm so sorry, but it's fatal now." "What? What the hell are you talking about?" Jungkook asked momentaneously confused. He just wanted to know what Jimin said about him. "About the Park Jimin’s disease, obviously." he laughed and walked to the kitchen, leaving Jungkook alone in the living room without an answer. "Fuck you, Taehyung. He said nothing, right? You’re just fooling around." Jungkook stated following the other boy's steps, suddenly energized again. "Actually, I never said he talked about you. I merely asked if you wanted to know how he is doing." "But why would I want to know something that I know already? I see him everyday, I know he is pissed as fuck." Taehyung sighed and walked to the fridge to grab some sandwiches. When he looked at Jungkook again he had a expression of pity on his face. "You really know nothing about him, right?" Jungkook choked with a mute offended sound. "What the... What are you talking about? I do know a lot about him, okay?" Taehyung unwrapped the bread on his hands and tried to soft his face, but the frown quickly returned. He was still kinda mad at Jungkook. "No, you don't. You just know the Jimin he wants to show. You just know the pretty parts of him, like the rest of the world. He never gets to show you the ugly ones and you're not even interested enough to know." Jungkook felt so offended he wasn’t even able of constructing a proper sentence to respond. Taehyung's words had been a strong and painful slap on his face, throwing him with bare knees on the ground, back to reality. His cheeks blushed hard while he choked with the frustration on his throat. He knew Taehyung was right. He didn’t know Jimin. "I... I... I am interested enough to know!"  was the only thing he succeded at disavowing, "And I am so sorry if I don’t know him like you do, okay? I'm sorry if we're not close enough for him to show me the parts he shows to no one..." but you, Jungkook thought without having the guts to say. It was painful enough only thinking about it. Realizing Jimin trusted not a single person to show his real self, apart from Taehyung, opened a deep wound on Jungkook’s feelings. He was not trustworthy enough. They were not friends enough. Jimin didn’t like him enough, and being aware of it hurt more than he think it should have. Taehyung dropped his sandwich on the table in front of him and gave Jungkook a tired look. "Have you even apologized?" The room got silent for a moment and Jungkook wondered – while the guilty filled his body due to the fact he hadn’t – if Jimin told Taehyung why they fought for. Of course he did. He is the person Jimin trusts the most, isn’t he? "I tried!" Jungkook let out an exhaspered breath "I tried, bu–" "Really? When?" Taehyung interrupted him. "I... He won’t let me, hyung! Everytime I try to approach him I get that cold gaze, which is probably capable of freezing my soul. He won't even look me in the eye when the cameras aren't around, unless I get close enough and seem to be trying to start some interaction. Then he'll look at me, make me feel the worst piece of shit on the planet and leave." "Oh... You fucked up pretty bad, right? Poor Jungkook-ah..." Jungkook felt pissed. He was being serious, but Taehyung was treating him like an idiot. "I don’t need your damn sarcasm right now." Taehyung sighed one more time. "All I'm saying is that you're not trying hard enough." he grabbed his sandwich again and started walking towards the door, "Keep in mind that just because I forgave you it doesn’t mean I forgot how bad you hurt Jimin, okay? I'm not a fool, Jungkook, even though everyone thinks so. If you want to come back at him with those half-hearted feelings, you better stay the fuck away."

••••

It was late at night when Jimin arrived. Jungkook was sitting on the couch close to the window, looking at the tiny raindrops accumulating on the glass. He was so deep in thought he didn't realize the other boy's presence until he asked: "What are you doing up?" Jungkook looked at him startled. He waited for him the whole night. He waited while thinking of words to apologize. He created innumerable conversations on his mind, where they talked, he apologized and everything was fine again. He created a bunch of made up sentences where all the things he wanted to say were coherently organized. He repetead them so many times they got stuck in his mind. Jungkook knew them all by heart already. He waited for Jimin the whole night. But now he was right there, standing on the doorway looking at him – and Jungkook had no idea what to say. "I... I was waiting for you." The truth was the only thing he could came up with. Jimin raised an eyebrow. "What for?" Jungkook got up. He needed to do it right. Everything had to be perfect. He tried to recover the phrases he created, but for some reason, they were all gone. He tried really hard to remember any, but none of them was coming to mind. So he panicked. How the hell had he forgot them? He was repeating them out loud just two minutes ago! It was just not possible. His heart started a race with the blood running through his veins. "I... Well, hyung, I–" Jimin was staring at him with a blank expression, which made everything worse. Jungkook's mind betrayed him, so, while he was dying of desperation inside, his brain decided it was a good time to check Jimin out. Why not, right? And he was so freaking gorgeous. His hair was wet from the humidity, and his outfit was all black and white. His cheeks and lips were a little rosy from the cold outside. He looked so soft Jungkook had to resist the urge of squeezing him tight. What the fuck are you doing? For god's sake! You! have! to say! something! His eyes were nervously traveling around the room looking for an subject of conversation, when they stopped at an unusual spot. He found it, but it wasn't exactly what he expected. "Hyung! You're hurt! Did you fall? Oh my god, have you gotten into a fight?" Jimin seemed truly confused. "What? What are you talking about?" "Your neck! It has a bruise on it! Your shoulder too!" "What?" Jimin repeated lower and looked at his shoulder to find the bruise Jungkook was talking about, "Oh... This... It's nothing." he was fast on covering the mark with his hands, "Don't worry about it." "But–" Jimin hurried to the bathroom without waiting for Jungkook to finish. He was confused as fuck now. What could it be? Maybe he really got into a fight and didn't want to talk about it? But, if he did, the other guy probably had his ass kicked, because Jimin wasn't actually hurt apart from those black bruises. Maybe he fell? What if he was drunk? Hoseok said Jimin stayed this late on the studio for practice, but what if he lied and went out for drinking? Taehyung was right, he really knew nothing about him. "Shit..." He sat on the couch again and decided he was going to wait Jimin to get out of the bathroom for him to ask what was going on, when a terrible thought hit him. It couldn't be, right? Jimin wouldn't hide something like that... Right? Jungkook's hand started sweating, so he picked his phone and decided he had to do a quick research. What diseases has black bruises as a symptom? Search. He scrolled past a few sites and clicked in one that made him interested. His heart was beating fast and his eyes were running quickly through the words, until they paralyzed. Diabetes. Okay, not so bad, they could deal with it. He continued reading while his throat slowly closed, keeping him from breathing. Cancer. "Oh my god." Jungkook threw the cellphone away with the impact of the information. You're being crazy, stop. But the thought was already dugged into his mind. He heard the sound of the bathroom's door opening and didn't get to think twice before running to it. "Hyung, are you dying?! Why didn't you tell us anything?" Jimin recoiled his body to the wall behind him with a startled look. "What the hell?" "I searched about it, okay?" "Jungkook, you're seriously scaring me... What are you talking about?" "The black bruise, of course! You don't have to lie anymore. It's okay, hyung, a lot of people has cancer, and I know it's terrible, but I'm sure we can get past that... Maybe." when he heard what he was actually saying, he realized how serious the whole situation was. There was a moment of terrifying silence before Jimin sighed heavily in disbelief. He covered his face with his left hand after murmuring: "I can't believe this..." "What...?" Jungkook's heart felt tiny. So he was right? Jimin was sick? Really sick? With such a bad disease? He thought he was going to faint. "For god's sake, Jungkook, can't you just chill? I told you it's nothing, okay?" But what if it were and he was lying, because he was afraid? "Hyung, I know you're mad, but you can trust me. There's no need to be afraid of–" "Oh my god! It's just a hickey, okay? Jesus..." Jungkook's mind stopped working. He needed a moment to process Jimin wasn't really sick. He wasn't actually dying and that was great. He took a moment for himself to feel relieved. Jimin wasn't dying. Not really. He just... Made out with someone. It was not a symptom of some terrible disease, it was just... A hickey. Jungkook could relax now... Right? "Oh..." It was good, right? That Jimin wasn't with cancer. Yeah, it was definitely good. So why wasn't he feeling relieved at all? "I see... I'm sorry, I... I was being paranoid." his voice sounded awkward out of his mouth, "I was just... Really worried, but... It's okay now." Why was he feeling like gravity somehow disappeared and his feet wasn't touching the ground anymore? Jimin walked past him without saying a word. It was when Jungkook realized it. He was losing him. He was losing Jimin. •••• Jungkook was going crazy. Everytime Jimin wasn't around he wondered if he was with the person that gave him that hickey. Everytime he was focused on his cellphone Jungkook mentally asked himself with whom he was talking to. Everytime he wasn't home at night – pretty much everyday now –, supposedly practicing in the studio, he pictured him with someone else. His lips on someone else's mouth, a person he didn't know touching Jimin's body and marking him as its own. Jungkook wasn't going to lie. It was hurting. A lot. And that was the worst of it all. Because it shouldn't be. It should be normal for all of them to hang out and relationate with other people. Jungkook shoudn't be feeling so damn jealous simply because guys don't fucking date. It was useless to feel that way. So he buried the feeling deep in his mind and focused on what really mattered: Jimin forgiving him and being friends with him again. Because now he was with Hoseok and Jin, smiling and laughing at their lame dances in front of everyone, and Jungkook had never felt so lonely. "I think when you're too used to someone's presence around you, you end up taking it for granted. But you never really know when they're going away. Don't ever take anything for granted, Jungkook-ah.", Namjoon once told him in one of his many nights of reflection and philosophies about life. He didn't care much back then, but now he understood what he really meant. He was feeling it. Jungkook almost let out a groan of frustration. Why was all this so hard? How could he solve everything? Talk to him. Just talk to him. It's not difficult, you've been doing that for like forever. Yes, you can do it. Talk to him. Just talk to him. "Hyung?" everyone looked his way. Perks of being a maknae. He coughed embarrassed, "Jimin-hyung?" "Um... Yeah?" he was now looking for something in the fridge. They were having a day off. "What?" he glanced over at Jungkook. "Do you want... Mhm... I... Do you want to run in the park with me?" Jimin stared at him for a good second before replying: "Sure." "Really?" he couldn't help the surprised tone. "Yeah. Let me just change." no bitter tone. No freezing gaze. No nothing. Maybe he had already forgiven Jungkook with him doing nothing? It was expected, right? Almost 3 weeks had passed. But it was still a bit shoocking, anyway. "O-okay." •••• They were running in silence for ten minutes already. That awkward atmosphere was starting to make Jungkook uncomfortable. Now that he was closer to Jimin – not just observing him from afar –, he could tell we was acting strange. At least, with him. Always keeping a safe distance, looking at all places, searching for something Jungkook couldn't tell and constantly cleaning the sweaty palms of his hands on his shorts. He was quiet and nervous, a lot different from the usual cheerful, bright and smiley Jimin Jungkook had always loved. It was not like he was bitter. He was distant. Jungkook felt guilty like never before. What did I do? Where's my Jimin-hyung? "I need to catch a breath." he stopped in the midway. Jimin looked back at him and stalled a few feets from distance. "'Kay." was all Jungkook heard coming out of his mouth. They were the only ones in the park; the two of them all alone, apart from the wind swinging the leaves from the ground. The moon was high in the sky, just like Jungkook's heart, high in his throat. It was his chance to apologize. "Hyun–" "I'm going to sit over there a little, okay? Guess I'm tired too." "No, hyung, I need to–" "It's okay, you can rest anywhere you want to. Call me when you're ready to restart, okay?" Jimin began to walk away from him. "Hyung!" he grabbed his wrist and Jimin looked back at him startled, "I want to talk." He avoided Jungkook's gaze, lowering his eyes. "W-what about? We have nothing to talk." "Yes, we do! Look, I know I said terrible things at you and–" Jimin gave him a nervous, forced laugh. "It's okay, this is past now." "No! Hyung, please! It's not okay! I never meant... For a long time, I've been trying to tell you..." he was missing the words, "Listen, I know you're gay now, and it's okay because–" "No!" Jimin almost yelled, "No, no, no... No." he moved away covering his ears. Jungkook had a gut-wrenching feeling growing inside him. He knew he hurt Jimin bad, but Jimin wasn't acting exactly sad or angry, he was acting... Disturbed. "Hyung...?" "That's not true!" he pointed a shaking finger to Jungkook with a choked voice, "I'm not..." the word almost got stuck inside his mouth, "Gay. I'm not. I'm not." Jungkook furrowed his brows in odd confusion. "What?" his voice barely came out. "It's okay. I was crazy. I took some time to understand, but I get it now." Jimin was speaking fast, trampling the words, "I wasn't in my normal state, you know? So I started to think stupid things. But I'm fine now, so you don't need to say anything, okay?" Jungkook's chest was terribly aching. He couldn't understand what was going on, but he did notice the choked tone on Jimin's voice. He did notice how he was nervously gesturing with his hands and looking anywhere else, but Jungkook's eyes. What did I do? "Hyung, what are you saying?" he whispered without strengh enough to believe that was really happening. "I'm saying... I'm normal. I'm okay now. Do you want to see?" What? What was happening? What was he talking about? Since when he wasn't normal? Jungkook felt like crying. It was his fault. It was all his fault. His words made Jimin deny himself, deny his identity. It was too much information for his brain to process in such a small period of time. I broke him. "I'll show you." Jimin grabbed Jungkook's arm and guided him through the opposite way they were supposed to follow. His hands were hot and sweating on Jungkook's skin. He watched Jimin's back impotently. I did this. "Hyung, where are we going?" he managed to put into words. "You'll see, you'll see. We're close, don't worry. It's near here, we'll be there soon." "There... Where?" he asked, but got no reply. The streets were empty that time of the night and Jimin was guiding him through increasingly darker places. Jungkook started to worry about where they were heading to. After five more minutes of walking in a dreadful silence, Jimin stopped in front of a closed and peeled door of an all black building – that looked it was about to fall at any given moment. There was a muffled noise coming out of the place that got Jungkook wondering what kind of thing was happening inside there. "Hyung, what is this?" But again, Jimin left him without an answer. "Come." He opened the door and Jungkook's ears were suddenly struck to a deafening and weird beat of an electronic song. Was that a party? He didn't have time to ask though, because in a blink of an eye he was being pulled inside by Jimin's strong hold. The first thing that bothered him was the smell. A mix of stinking sweat and ciggarette that had his stomach squirming. The other things were the tightness of the place and the startling number of people. He felt suffocated the second he stepped in. He could barely walk. The flashing lights were bright and fickle, blinding him for several moments. He was there for just a minute and he already wanted to leave. But Jimin kept dragging him in, further and further into the throng of people dancing to an awful loud song. The crowd began to look at them. None of them seemed really friendly in Jungkook's opinion. They kept glancing weirdly at both of them, like they weren't supposed to be there. It was when he realized why they were drawing so much attention. They were walking in running clothes through a sea of dark outfits. "Hyung, are you crazy? We need to leave! People will recognize us!" he had to scream to be heard. Jimin didn't look back to answer. "It's okay, no one knows this kpop shit here." Kpop shit? He said kpop shit? Jungkook felt a mix of desperation and sudden awareness when he realized Jimin was not holding his wrist anymore. He tried to grasp him again, but he was already too far away, heading to the bar's direction. Jungkook watched powerless, stuck in place – both by the mass of people holding him back in that trap of bodies and by his own thoughts trapping him down in that mess of feelings – as Jimin moved away. He watched powerless when he got to the bar and drank two cups of alcohol without even blinking. He watched powerless when two girls approached him and he didn't show resistance. Jungkook was really going to throw up. They were rubbing their bodies on his arms in the music's rhythm, whispering things on his ears, and for a moment, Jimin just ignored them. But slowly, he looked up at the taller one and smiled – even though it didn't reach his eyes. Jungkook wanted to cry. What the hell was happening? What did Jimin want to show him? His heterosexuality? His manliness? Because if so, Jungkook didn't fucking want to see it. "Hyung!" he yelled the loudest his throat could bear. If life was a movie, the music would've have stopped, everyone's attention would've turned their way, Jimin would've looked at him, smiled, and then, they would've got out of that stupid place with their hearts at ease, because everything would be fine again. But life was not a movie. Life was a shitty asshole who tried to fuck everyone up just to enjoy watching them suffer. That's why Jimin heard him. That's the reason he glanced at Jungkook's way with a hurt, but determined look on his eyes and that's why Jungkook could perfectly lip-read Jimin's mouth when he whispered: "Watch me." It was also when Jungkook's heart slowly broke. Piece by piece falling from his chest. He felt his surroundings spinning, making him dizzy. Because Jimin was kissing that girl. Greedily kissing that girl. For a moment, he thought he was going to throw up, but his mouth was dry. The music got distant and his vision blurred. He couldn't tell when he started crying, but he could tell it was when the girl made a movement to sit on Jimin's lap that he opened a way, pushing everyone in front of him down just to reach them. His heart was violently beating on his throat and when he got close enough to see their tongues touching he didn't know who Jeon Jungkook was anymore. His stomach did a backflip while his heart hurt as if someone had craved a dagger in it without mercy. Jungkook pushed Jimin's arm so hard he almost fell from the chair he was sitting on. The girl looked startled at first, but when she saw Jungkook's hurt expression, she quickly blurted confused words like "Are you his boyfriend?" and "I'm so sorry", but Jungkook was too shattered to care. "Let's go home." his voice was not his anymore. It was a weak, cracking voice. He didn't recognize it. "Please." For the first time in that night, Jungkook had a glance of his real Jimin. For the first time in that night, he saw the Jimin he thought he had lost. Jungkook was pulled outside the club by him, but the moment they stepped in the cold night's air of those lonely streets, he was gone. And in place, he left a destroyed, broken Jimin. He sat on the concrete's sidewalk shaking. Jungkook didn't know what to do. He felt the despair taking hold of him and spreading through his whole self. What did I do? I broke him. I broke him. I broke him, I broke him, I broke him. His legs failed making him fall with bare knees on the ground in front of Jimin. "Hyung..." a whisper came out of his lips, "Hyung, look at me... Please?" Jimin looked, but Jungkook only felt guiltier. I did this. His eyes cut through him like sharp blades, ready to destroy the enemy. Just in this case, Jimin was his own enemy. "Don't–" Jimin started talking with a wobbling voice, but Jungkook wouldn't let him finish. He embraced him the tightest way his trembling arms managed, trying to gather the pieces and remain them together – even though Jungkook wasn't able to do that with his own wreckage. And like a crack, he broke in tears on Jimin's shoulder, sobbing into the silent night. He wasn't quite breathing, but it was not like that mattered anyway. He missed Jimin's touch so much and for so long that having him on his arms again felt like a dream. He didn't want to let go never again. He buried his face on the crook of Jimin's neck, showering it with wet and warm tears. "I'm so sorry, hyung... I– I never meant any of those things, I sw-swear." his voice was cracking. Jimin's arms was motionless aside his body and he was listening in silence, but Jungkook didn't let that affect him. He had to say it. Even if, in the end, nothing changed, he had to let Jimin know. "You're perfect. You're p-perfect, there's nothing wrong with you, so... Don't do that to yourself, please. I beg you..." Jungkook's tears were falling fast from his eyes and he couldn't stop them, because he knew all of that was his fault, "I beg you, hyung. I can't handle this. Don't deny who you are, please... I know I said plenty terrible things, but they were all lies, I was just desperate, I didn't know what to do. I know this is no excuse, but I'm t-truly so sorry. You have no idea... I was sorry the moment those words came out of my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to properly apologize before, because I was too much of a coward to do it. I never meant to hurt you like this. The last thing in the world I want to see is you in pain." Jungkook took a deep breath before having the guts to finish it. "I love you. I really love you, so please, don't do that again. It hurts so much and it aches my heart, so... Please, don't..." his voice died and let space to the sobs stuck on his throat. For a moment, Jimin was static. But then, he had a hand on Jungkook's back and a tear falling down his cheeks, watering the younger's tshirt. Jungkook's eyes wided with surprise and teared up more. He thought that wasn't possible, but he started crying harder as his arms closed the grip around Jimin's body even tighter. If felt so right. And suddenly, Jimin was also hugging him and crying painful, yet relieved tears. They were both a mess, but they were happy they were a mess in each other's arms. "I missed you." Jungkook mumbled into Jimin's neck. The older slided his fingers into the younger's hair and sweetly cuddled it. For Jungkook, that felt like the world spinning again. "I missed you too."