#anyway i just really hate the 'fat girl is ugly until she glows up' thing

[mermaidsirennikita]

Fat Heroines in M/F Romance: Quick Recs

For no particular reason, a few books I love where the heroine is described as fat/plus-sized/whatever, may or may not experience weight-related insecurities, but never loses weight and is always seen as super hot, not the girl who just escaped his notice until she glowed up, by the hero.

(I will add that I've definitely read many more books with this kind of rep, but it isn't always as explicit, and I wanted it to be super clear. And I'll probably add on to this later.)

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean. Callie is very clearly fat, and she does long for Ralston from afar... but largely because she was a literal teenager when she first noticed him, and he doing grown man shit with grown women. Once she's in his notice, he is obsessed, and is super worshipful of her body. Never has a man been more upset that a woman bound her breasts; he is PERSONALLY offended. He must heal them! With his mouth!

Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean. Noteworthy for featuring a plus size model on the cover and stepback. Hattie is a total babe, Whit is absolutely about it from the moment he wakes tied up in her carriage, and she ties him up some more after that! I also really love the degree to which Hattie is embraced as a beautiful, vivacious woman who throws this man for a loop.

The Brown Sisters Trilogy by Talia Hibbert. All the Brown sisters are plus size, it's on the cover, and they fall into their own unique love stories. Personally, Act Your Age, Eve Brown is my favorite, but they're all very good.

*Get a Life, Chloe Brown features a heroine who has suffered from chronic pain all her life (and as a TW, the hero is coming off a relationship with an abusive ex-girlfriend) trying to get the most out of life after sitting on the sidelines for years

*Take A Hint, Dani Brown features a queer, witchy heroine and a hero who suffers from anxiety (plus the rare interracial romance with no white people) embarking on a fake relationship after being caught in a compromising situation

*Act Your Age, Eve Brown features two leads who are both on the spectrum as our heroine attempts to "grow up" and ends up ruffling allll the hero's feathers (also, a purply sparkly dildo is utilized super effectively)

All Scot and Bothered by Kerrigan Byrne. Unfortunately not reflected super well on the cover (though it is a beautiful cover otherwise) this book has a heroine who is fat, loves food, and is loved by a giant Scottish motherfucker who watches her eat chocolate and is like "this is the greatest trial God has ever bestowed upon me".

A Merry Little Meet Cute by Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone. Heroine is a fat porn star with what is essentially an OnlyFans; she wants to break into vanilla cinema, and gets cast in a Hallmark-style Christmas movie opposite a formerly famous boy bander... who of course, is a BIIIIIG fan of her work. Also, bisexuality galore!

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden. Our heroine considers herself plain, as does much of society; the hero is NEVER about that life. Before they're even engaged, she goes on a spiel about how he wouldn't understand her inner thoughts unless he's been inside her, and he does have a sadly aroused coughing fit.

Possession by Adriana Anders. Heroine and hero are actors in a PR marriage of convenience, with the specific stipulation that they won't have sex; and then he gets caught fucking a woman on camera, who looks just! Like! Her! Heroine's size is very clear; she's also Latina, and the hero is pansexual. She follows him to ~kink camp~ and they discover that they're actually quite! Compatible! One of the hottest books I've ever read, so body-affirming.

#romance novel blogging #book recs #books #book reviews #anyway i just really hate the 'fat girl is ugly until she glows up' thing #especially when the fat girl has obviously always been gorgeous #she just needs to Get Over the main impediment--her fatness--either thru weight loss or like #mental growth surrounding her weight

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 012

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey all! Billy and Evie continue their strange mating ritual. TW: Mentions of past abuse and student/teacher relationship. Heavy petting. SMUT. Phone sex. ;)

TAG LIST OPEN. Chat with me if you have the time xoxo

Chapter 12: Cupid and Psyche

   Evie groaned the next time she woke.

   Pain blared like the morning sun streaming on her face. Flames licking supple cheeks.

   Billy gone in the bed upon turning over.

   His scent apparent all over her damn sheets. Seeped into the pillows. Aramis. Hairspray. Paco Rabanne Pour Homme. Evie wondered if Billy liked to leave parts of himself where he goes. An impression similar to hands in wet concrete. 

   Sometimes a warm body pressed up against you was the only thing reminding you that you were here.

   She curled around his pillow to inhale. Felt butterflies flutter her stomach. Landing on delicate organs to decorate them in jewel toned wings. Iridescent glows that washed harsh reds away.

   Evie wondered what it would be like to crystallize. Utterly.

   Feet touched the floor to leave such fantasies aside. Those butterflies decayed upon seeing her face in the mirror. Hissing, fingertips gingerly touched the skin on fire. Upset welts around her puffy eye. Lungs gave a shudder before Evie was scrambling to replace the emptiness.

   Needy fingers went for her drawer and pulled out a box labeled “FB + EF.” Pushed all the way in back hidden under sheer and lacy panties. Hands clicked around the little pieces of jewelry she wasn’t able to wear in the open until she lifted a brooch to the light. A sparkling ladybug. 

   Fredrick got for her during the first month of that magical summer. They went to some dirty adult party three cities away where people in their twenties and thirties were doing cocaine out in the open. Evie shared a tab of acid with Fredrick that unlocked her entire psyche. Draped herself into him to watch colors spin along the TV. Felt his hand palm her breast before they found a room.

   “Do you think I’m fat?” Evie asked between kisses, coming down from her trip and sweltering with heat. Trembling too hard.

   “What?” He actually laughed into her mouth, came out and pulled her body flush. “You’re not fat, love, you’re so beautiful.”

   At the time, Evie wasn’t sure how that answer made her feel worse. 

   But, the lady bug pin was now scuttling into her stomach. She nearly broke the drawer with her clenched fists pushing it down.

   Exhale.

   Oh, how she moaned like a wanting slut that night. Rode Fredrick hard and turned over afterward for him. Started to cry when he tried to take her home afterwards because she didn’t want to go.

   Didn't want the dreaming to end. She wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever.

   It was their first fight. He screamed she was being a child and manipulating him. They both shouted about telling her mother the truth. 

   Evie really started to sob that she hated him and he just held her wrists and kissed her deeply. Softened suddenly as she fell into his arms. Told her she was too pretty to be so upset. That she had a hold on him. That he was starting to fall deeply and madly in love with her.

   And that made her feel like a god. 

   They ended up back at his place. Evie got home the next day to Mona hiding her pack of smokes behind a picture of Dolly Parton. Not asking where her daughter had been all night. Just said to get ready for her next talent show. 

   Hungover, Evie still won the prize money that went into some new clothes, her future fund, and fresh paint for the salon. Talent scouts cooed to keep growing.

   “Evie!” A knock startled her daydreams. The drawer smacked shut. Heather poked her face in and frowned. “Oh, honey...you need some more ice on that. We made pancakes.”

   “We?”

   “Steve and I. Billy went home to shower, he had to give Max a ride somewhere. Come on, eat some breakfast.”

   Evie changed, rubbing her throat on the way out. Steve blinked at her and tried not to wince.

   “I know it’s not pretty.” Evie pressed her lips. 

   “You saw me after Hargrove kicked my ass.” Steve reached over the little island counter to give her chin this encouraging tap. Darling smile curling. Heather put a big plate down so Evie slid onto a stool.

   “Thanks, sorry I passed out last night.”

   “Ice cream will be a good pick me up later.” Heather kissed Evie’s good side. “Want us to stick around today?”

   “Ah, we can hang out tonight. I gotta clean up and I wanted to go talk to Billy about something.” Evie took a bite and sighed. Steve and Heather exchanged looks. “Nothing happened. Perverts.”

   A beat before laughter erupted. It felt so needed this hour

** ** **

   Evie tried to use makeup to cover the easier welts. Felt useless with her eye socket the size and color of Jupiter. A huff before she flicked a brush aside and stood. She left Blue on the couch before venturing out. Frost and slush marked the unforgiving winter outside. Evie had waited until Neil’s car left and crossed over. Knocked.

   Susan poked her head out.

   “Oh, Evie, I... Dear, what happened?” Susan’s wedding ring caught the light as she touched her lips with worry. Red hair piled up upon her head and a sea foam sweater dress.

   “I slipped on the ice.” Lashes batted. “Sorry, I caught you in the middle of something.”

   “No, I was unpacking the last few boxes in our garage. Shifting some furniture. Think we’re finally moved in. I was just going to change and catch the bus, our shelves are bare.” Susan held the door back. 

   “I was here to see Billy, is he…?” Evie trailed off when she heard it. The blasting music from the farthest bedroom. Shut tight.

   “Yes, in his room. Evie, he’s… He’s in a mood and might not come out.”

   “A mood?” Evie studied the woman. Thin hands clasping so hard that they paled.

   “Maybe a friendly face will be good.” Susan decided, not convinced but too polite to turn Evie away now. “Go on ahead.”

   It appeared Max was out with friends. Susan disappeared into the kitchen after gesturing so Evie crossed down the hallway. Knocked and wasn’t heard. Pounded harder.

   “I’m busy, Susan!” Came the bark.

   “Not Susan.” Evie shot right back. There was a curse before some scrambling and the door yanked open. Billy in a white tank tucked into some jeans with grey socks. Lax. Chain shifting as he breathed. “You look real busy.”

   Eyes screwed up at her. Seemingly irritated. 

   “What are you doing here?”

   “You left, I just...wanted to hang out. Talk, I mean.” Her feet shuffled before she matched his taller posture. Chin lifting. 

   “Getting clingy on me.”

   “As if you have any business talking about that.” She joked, arms crossing. 

   “I spent the night in your bed. We shot the shit, I’m not your boyfriend.” His clipped tone etched some surprise over Evie’s face.

   “Okay, asshole, when and where did I ask if you wanted to be my damn boyfriend? You going to ease up a little bit? I don’t need that.” Evie flared and he sucked in his cheeks before pulling her into his room and shutting the door. “The fuck is your problem all the sudden?”

   Billy had gone to turn the music down a bit, head craning to see her pressed into his door. One of his hands was idly rubbing his ribs. Some of their anger died. A tense expression crossed his face.

   Evie realized she’d never really seen the inside of his room. Smelled like Billy. Smoke, hairspray, and cologne. Random plates and beer cans with smashed cigarette buds. A little vanity made of crates. Near empty shelves. Weights laying round. Laundry mostly in a basket propped up in the corner. Curtains that were really clipped up sheets. Something somber about it all. Like nothing was his. Like he had to make the space livable. Bearable.

   “I don’t plan for guests.” He plucked up a pack of cigarettes. 

   “Bullshit, I see girls climbing in and out of your window.” Evie lightened the tension. Billy hitched as if he might chuckle. Felt guilty instead.

   “Well, help yourself to a seat.” Billy kicked back into a beaten brown couch so Evie nudged her shoes aside and joined him on the other end. “Well?” He lit himself a smoke and scratched his chin, eyes on the window.

   “About last night, that stuff I said...”

   “Weren’t drunk so you can’t take it back.” The white hot cherry pointed to her.

   “I’m just saying," Evie gestured at air, "it was a lot.”

   “Me beating the fuck out of our second period teacher was a lot.” Billy got his cigarette snatched before he plucked it back. “Think of your pretty voice, yeah?”

   Evie pouted, made this rumbling sound at him before she sat back.

   It clicked in Billy’s head.

   “You’re looking to drown your sorrows. Finally something I can really help with.” Billy reached over the couch and came up with a bottle of amber liquid. There was an unmistakable sound of the front door closing, signalling Susan had left. 

   “Heather and Steve wouldn’t approve.” Evie took the bottle anyways. Gulped.

   “Easy, jesus.” Billy drank after. One quick swig. Watched her bring her legs up to cross them. Leggings and a thick, violet sweater with wool socks. Curls spilling. “Small drinks, don’t be an idiot.”

   “Strong words from you.” She sipped that time. Savored the woody burn as it went down.

   “Don’t I know it?” He puffed. Evie offered him the bottle and sighed, relaxing before she spoke.

   “Did Fredrick cry when you hit him?”

   “Like a bitch.” Billy exhaled smoke. “Drove past his place after I dropped Max off at her friend’s. Cleared the fuck out.”

   “Oh.” It still ached. This person who touched her life was suddenly gone. Maybe never to return. Like her father. It should have been a fucking comfort and instead everything ugly swimming under Evie’s skin pushed to the surface.

   “Did you like it?” A whisper.

   “I always do.” He spoke, drank about it. Evie thought back to leveling Tannen’s face. Silently agreed. Wondered when he would break his chains to get revenge.

   “Do you think I’m fat?” Her tone droned next.

   “Why are you asking me stupid questions, Evie?” Billy’s cigarette was hanging lazily from his lips. Bold, crystalline eyes appeared bored at her as an arm came up on the couch. She blinked at him.

   Evie liked that reply. She was fat. She was pretty, too. She hoped. They can coexist. Billy could just be crass about it. Obscene.

   She enjoyed that about him, too. Even if she wouldn't admit it.

   “Do you think about fucking me when you masturbate?” She said in the same controlled tone.

   Billy choked, almost inhaling his lit stick, and spit it on the floor. Still coughing, his head snapped with bulging eyes. Stepping on the cigarette to kick it under the beaten sofa.

   Pride swelled.

   “What the fuck, Evie?” He set the liquor aside. Evie was on her feet lightning quick so he got up also. Just as quick. “Hey, why’d you come here?” 

   She had the door open when his palm smacked it shut. Evie spun there, pressed between him and the wood. Billy breathing into her space. One arm still outstretched. Too intent.

   Evie thought for a moment, she heard his pulse begin to race.

   Her heavy eyes flashed at him. Waiting there for something to crack. 

   And then trembling fingers dipped and clicked the lock on the doorknob without breaking eye contact.

   This shrewd look crossed his eyes. Filled his whole expression with neon light.

   God damn, he was just too beautiful. Stunning like ethereal Cupid about to revive Psyche with true love's kiss after their trials. Wings unfurling all delicate and feathery. They both crystallized.

   “I should go.” Evie said without trying. Not moving an inch. Billy dropped his arms and stepped back to see her. Flicking his eyes before he let his light burn. Leaned forward and bit the inside of his cheek. A rasp.

   “Take your fucking clothes off.”

   Evie threw herself at him.

   Knocked Billy back into the bed while their lips collided. The boy caught fire. He pushed her to turn them over. Already shoving between her legs. So hard, he figured he might blow his load right there. Evie’s lips on his neck made it worse. Made him moan until his leg shook like a dog’s would.

   Yeah, it had been awhile.

   “Fuck.” Billy pulled up, left Evie pawing for him. Fingers under her sweater to yank.

   “Wait.” Evie gasped out so he stopped. All her fervor hid under the bed. Unable to meet those eyes.

   “What?” Billy sat back on his knees. “Scared I won’t like what I see?”

   “It’s too bright in here.” She turned to let the sheets fall over the blinds. Went for the other.

   “Leave some light. Wanna see you.” Billy batted his lashes as he said that. Made her melt. Quickly, he pulled his own shirt off. Flashed the reason for all this anger earlier. Splotchy bruises along his ribs where Neil’s knuckles pushed in for whatever reason he picked that morning.

   Evie paused to see them. Saw Billy’s rock hard chest sink in. Reached out and got her wrist snatched. Gentle as can be.  

   “Don’t worry about it.” His eyes averted.

   “Don’t worry about mine.” Evie asked so Billy cupped her face and pushed her back into the sheets. She paused only to sit up and remove her top. Covered in fracturing rosy marks across fleshy curves. Before she had a chance to get insecure, Billy cut in.

   “Leggings, too.” He winked, snapping the fabric. She scowled instead.

   “You first.” Evie undid the loop of his belt, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she did. Billy felt himself shudder. Stood up so she followed.

   They stared at each other. Didn’t touch and undressed there in the too soft lights down to their underwear.

   Billy’s eyes followed the swell of her breasts. Everything about Evie was plush. Dark curls hung over her shoulders. Really looked like a twisting goddess from a painting. She had her hands in front of her stomach and dropped them when he crossed. Inching her back into the wall.

   A hand cupped her jaw before their lips opened. Arms went around his shoulders. Unafraid that he was looking at her in daylight. 

   Alive. Both of them felt alive. 

   Billy pressed further, let their bodies melt together. Tested how she felt against him. Flesh on flesh. 

   Several sensations erupted the moment his mouth was on her neck. Clouds bursting with rain. Fireworks splashing the night sky. Petals unfurled within Evie’s stomach. Gemstones grew out to crystallize. She wondered how pretty she’d be if Billy took a chisel to her flesh. Cracked the shell open. She ran her hands over his arms and felt the soft hairs there. Pulled him even in closer.

   Fingers slid one bra strap down. Evie coaxed him further with digits woven into golden curls. Maybe Billy had a point about her being molten because she was about to spill hot between his fingers. 

   He came up. Moaned into her mouth. Palms gripping at flesh. Like he had to feel all of her at once. Evie bit her lip, neck craning back so he could inch lower again. 

   Billy Hargrove is about to fuck me, she could have giggled, and I’m going to fuck him hard and thoughtlessly. 

   She hitched a gasp just as his fingertips inched into cotton panties. Got ready to pull him back into bed.

   Billy’s head lifted. The earring dangled almost violently when a door slammed. Evie’s dreams were sent scattering before they frozen together. Marble. 

   Water pouring over red hot iron to elicit the tempering sizzle.

   “Fuck.” Billy recognized the sound. “Fuck. My dad.” He kept saying, pushing Evie’s clothing at her. “You need to go. Out the window.”

   “What?” Evie barely had time to get dressed while he helped her. Both of them bursting at the seams. Billy yanked his jeans up and got the window open. Guided Evie over it as she was still forcing her sweater on. 

   “Billy!” Came a bark at the front of the house. Stomping followed. Evie plopped into the snowy grass with a groan as Billy dropped her shoes into her lap. Evie scrambled back up around the back of her house. Slammed the door and fell back against it like she had to hide too.

   Lungs sputtered.

   “What the fuck?” Her cheeks were an obscene cherry shade. She felt Billy all over her. Ached all between her thighs even in wet clothing. Huffed because she was unfucked and her sweater was inside out. “Shit.” Evie scrambled to her bedroom. Blue scuttled out to a food dish as Evie jerked the curtain open. Couldn’t see anything in Billy’s room.

   Her phone rang.

   “Yes?” A cry into the receiver.

   “Cute that you worried for me.” Cool and even. Almost macho.

   She puffed, sinking.

   “Shut up.”

   “Guess my dad’s beer run wasn’t as long as I thought.” Billy blew air out his lips. “Was hoping he’d be working today. They cut his hours down this week for some reason. Made him real fucking happy.”

   “Come over here.”

   “No, I’m locked in for playing my music too loud and for being disrespectful this morning. Gotta wait till later, he’ll get drunk enough and forget.” Billy reclined on his bed. Something horrible there because he was used to this. Music was playing softer behind him. Mingling with Neil in the living room watching some show play on. “You’re...intense.” His blase attitude and joke almost set Evie at ease. She fell into bed, eyes rolling.

   “Uh. So, are you." A beat. "...Were you surprised?”

   “Yeah, actually. I had you figured for a shy, little birdie.”

   “Everyone thinks that about me. I sing and dance. I like sex and stage lights. I get mad. I’m not shy. Maybe at times about my...but, I get over it. Women can be as intense as men in the sack, you know?” Evie sounded insulted.

   “Don’t worry, I’m a quick learner.” He’d mused. “Learning new things about you every day.” 

   Evie couldn’t explain why that made her blush. Hard. The silky timbre of his voice lulling her into genuine security. 

   “Learned that I can make out your accent more when you’re sleepy, on the phone, and in lust.”

   “In lust? Shut up.” She mocked. “Don’t have an accent. You probably can’t even tell the uptown and downtown accents apart in N'awlins.” Ah shit. Billy found that hilarious as Evie cringed.

   “That so, N'awlins?” Billy countered. “Just say the word, bayou, for me.”

   “...That’s a hard pass. Are all Cali boys this insufferable?” She rolled over to swing her legs up.

   “We are, actually. But, I am the prettiest.” His smile dazzled with no one to admire it. Evie saw it in her mind and wanted to just toss him over town.

   “I’ll give you that for admitting it.” A breath followed. Evie toyed with one of her curls. Tugged. “I had you all shaky there.” His tongue clicked.

   “No idea what you mean.” That cheekiness she enjoyed dripped from his rich tone. “Bummed, I was this close to seeing your tits.” 

   “They’ll be the same later. I think. I don’t know, I always thought they were shaped funny.” Brown eyes turned to the ceiling as she rolled back. one arm behind her head. 

   “Later, she says. Huh. And I’ll be the judge of that. I’m a professional and I’m not picky. Any shape is good, I’m in this for the taste.”

   “Sleaze.” Evie pouted and a chuckle sounded. Billy sighed. "How'd you get my number, by the way?"

   "Begged it from Heather on my way out. I can be smooth." He said. “You really want me over tonight? Steve and Heather won’t approve, am I right?”

   She let out an aggravated sigh and Billy smiled again to himself. Imagined that scrunchy pout she liked to make. Fingers tapping his bare stomach.

   “I mean, we can…hang out. Nothing wrong with that.”

   “Like you came over just now to hang out, chica?”

   “I didn’t come over just for that.”

   “Sure. As if you also didn’t wet your blue panties for me.”

   “You’re so gross.” Evie rubbed her legs together. Remembered his hands worshiping her flesh. Her flesh that she was conditioned to hate. Adjusted the phone and licked her lips. “Don’t make me regret this.”

   “I’m just saying we can easily pick up where we left off, Evie.” The name rolled sinfully from his tongue. She swallowed. Flashes of Billy across her brain. His peachy tanned skin. His gold curls. His lips kissing her. 

   “Remind me where that was? Landed pretty hard there when you pushed me out the window.”

   “Shit, yeah. About that-”

   “I get it.” Evie didn’t need to make him explain. “I didn’t land on my head. Still raw from…” Where Fredrick tossed her into the wall. They both went silent. Just listened to each other breathe. Evie gave this dreamy sigh. “I like...your arm hair and I like the way you smell.”

   He laughed.

   "You're a funny girl, Evie."

   "It's just...that intensity you have, I don't know. You are pretty." She rubbed her face. "I don't know what I'm saying."

   “Your perfume goes right to my dick. You know that, too.” His joke lightened them both again. Evie rolled her eyes. “Explains why you practically crawl into my skin at night.” Billy remembered suddenly that he’d spent two nights with Evie and hadn’t screwed her. That was a rarity.

   “You snore a little. Couple of grunts. Sorta adorable.”

   “Don’t even get my started on how dead silent you get.” Billy’s eyes trailed over his room. He could still smell her honey amber scent lingering. Hummed into the pillow. Obsession by Calvin Klein. Odd scent for a teen, but matching him in intensity and she wore it so subtly. All they could do was battle and weave together. Obsession and Aramis. This strange dance he was thrilled to continue.

   “Never answered my question.”

   “Already forgot it. Was it where we left off or what I’d do to you next?” Lips curled as her breath hitched. “Let’s see. I had you against the wall. Moaning so pretty. Lipstick smeared.”

   Evie almost didn’t speak up when he paused before...

   “And?”

   “And I was gonna keep kissing down your tits. Get the rest of your clothes off. Tongue my way over your sweet nipples. Stomach too, I like to cover all the ground I can. See how shy you really are.” He licked his lips and Evie’s eyes got heavy. 

   “Not so shy when I tell you to keep going.”

   “No, I guess not. Not until I push your sensitive thighs open, I bet you’d quake and purr. Blush like you clearly are now.”

   Evie realized she’d been holding her breath. Didn’t even fight him. Clutching her sweater as he spoke so casually. 

   “It’s a real fucking tragedy. Me, waiting longer before I find out how you taste. That’s all I’m saying.” Billy’s breath was labored on the other end. “Still with me here, Angel?”

   “Is...this your private line?”

   Another snicker.

   “Obviously. Why?” Billy had his jeans open. Bit his lip while he pooled arousal around his tip. Watched it trickle down into his stomach. Again. No reply. “Answer was yes, by the way… What you asked early if I thought about you. I do a lot. Fucking you. Eating you out. I knew you were a hair puller, we have that in common.”

   “Not sure I trust you to last and get the job done with how worked up you get. All the trembling, it was kinda cute.”

   “You clearly haven’t ridden my tongue.”

   Fuck him.

   “You have to actually stop talking to do that, Billy.” Evie laughed in the open and Billy smiled brighter, eyes crinkling. He walked into that one. Idly, she ran her fingers up her thigh. “Between you and I, I never let guys eat me out.”

   Billy stopped to sit up.

   “No shit?”

   “It always made me nervous so I stopped them when they tried. All the mouth action comes from me.” Evie had sat up on the other end too. “I’m pretty good actually.”

   “You’d let me fuck that beautiful mouth after I taste you?” He’d cooed. “Betcha that lipstick won’t look half bad on my skin since you never did start buying waterproof.”

   “I guess it’s only fair.” Evie dropped her tone. “Still think you can’t handle it.”

   “There’s the ego I was hoping for.” He shook his head. “But, I have to say, sweetheart, you’re missing out. That’s the real crime, not letting yourself get tongue fucked once in a while. Do you not know how to treat yourself?”

   Evie mashed her face into the nearest pillow. 

   “I can’t stand you. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She muffled and Billy only laughed again, laying down. Imagined how cherry her lips and cheeks must have looked. Thought about tracing his thumb over her wet mouth. Smeared in slick red.

   “Don’t get shy on me now. We established you weren’t.”

   “It’s weird.”

   “Not weird. You just let a guy kiss down and nature takes over.”

   “It’s not that simple with me.”

   “Sure, it is. Let me walk you through it. Take your leggings and panties off.” He licked his lips. “C’mon, we got time to kill now.” There was some shuffling.

   “It’s not a big deal,” Evie undressed anyways, “it’s just...I think about the angle and guys looking up and seeing my stomach and I get freaked out.”

   “Sweetheart, my mouth will be buried in your pussy, I ain’t worried about your flesh. I’m more worried about my technique. These things you get so worked up about. Guys really don’t give a shit, the good ones anyways.” His vulgarity sent these fizzles all down her nerves. Actually made her feel better. “You just...tip your head back and enjoy it. Although, I don’t mind a little praise and eye contact. Make me feel like a good boy for once.”

   “And I can’t like...play with myself to help?”

   “You can, but just relax and let me take over. You can trust me to make you feel good, Evie. Might be nice to give up some control.”

   He had no idea that he’d hit a nail on the head.

   “So, kisses. Thighs open.” Evie settled into the pillows, free hand twisted into fabric with a cool breeze on her thighs. Breasts rising. “Would you use your fingers too?”

   “If you ask me sweetly.” Billy saw beads of precum all over his abdomen. Throbbed and tried not to grunt. “I’d like to. I’d like to lick my way inside you. Hold your legs open and kiss your clit until you’re begging for more. Love the view of you. Spread open and wet for me. Like how you feel.” 

   “You’ve never been with a girl my size.” Evie broke into his daydreams.

   “You don’t know that.” He paused. It was true.

   “Yes, I do, Billy.” Evie didn’t know why the thought was stark and gnawing. “I’m bigger than you. Wider. Maybe even heavier.”

   “Bet, I can lift you just fine.” He rubbed his face, eyes searching. “I liked it. Touching you. I wasn’t shy about it, was I? Fucking soft. I’m not used to that against me. You’re warm and when I squeezed you against me, I wanted to throw you on my bed so fucking bad. Can't explain it.”

   She went silent so he found a joke. 

   “If it makes you so nervous, I promise to let you suck me off after.”

   “A dashing gentleman if I ever saw one.” She broke out of the nerves.

   “Just think about it, Evie. You ever just take the time to appreciate how wet you made someone? Up close. It's a thrill.” Billy hitched as he palmed himself. Evie swallowed a lump.

   “Are you…?”

   “Am I, what?” Billy’s labored breathing made it obvious, but he wanted her to say it.

   “Did I make you wet?”

   “Jeans are ruined for the day.” He offered, husky under the music. “Should have risked hiding you in the closet.”

   “We would have so been caught.”

   “His problem.” Billy gruffed, changed the subject to work himself up. “Two clasps away from those tits. I won’t forget that.”

   “Maybe I’ll play with them since you’re not here to.” She moved a hand under her sweater and Billy outright groaned.

   “What do you taste like?”

   “I recall you predicting heaven.” Sarcasm etched out. “It's possible you’ll find out if I’m in the mood again. I could be just now realizing this was a lapse in judgement.”

   “Ah huh.” Billy gave himself a few strokes. Evie listened to him sigh too soft and husky in her ear. Pictured him atop her. Rock hard and moaning. Gorgeous like Apollo. Sun streaming upon his back. Illuminating curls.

   She slid her fingers down. Hitched a sigh because she was soaked and aching. 

   “Would you kiss me after I sucked you off?” Evie played with herself. Let him hear the moan.

   “With tongue. You could spit directly into my mouth for all I care. In fact, I might like that.” Billy hummed, tone changing to give an order. “Slip your fingers in if you haven’t already. I know what you’re doing, Evangeline.”

   “You were doing it first.” Evie’s head pressed back into the pillows. She spread her legs and drew circles into herself, pressed two fingers in and moaned.

   “Who’s fucking you right now, Angel?”

   “Oh, you.” She was forward about that. Heart thumping. “Want your mouth and hands.”

   “Told you.” His head tilted back. Tried to stay immersed in the lingering scent of her. “Play with your clit again. That’ll do until I get my tongue on you.”

   Evie cursed that time. Accent lacing her tone. It made him smile brighter.

   “If I had it my way, you won’t play with yourself at all. Know that? You want to get off, you just come to me and let me take care of you.”

   “What a chore.” Evie sped and started to rock into her own touch.

   “I’m always up to the task.”

   Billy worked himself on the other end to every little mewl and sigh. Dirty talk went out the window as she gasped. Started to build herself up. Pictured Billy slicked and surrendered against cotton sheets. Stunning and batting his lashes while he opened his mouth and pumped his fist.

   “Get yourself there, Angel, don’t wait for me.” He heard her curse louder and almost drop the phone back. With Billy’s little murmurs of dirty encouragement, she rubbed perfect circles. Imagined his fingers and tongue. His sly eyes and those fucking lashes. Muscles bulging hot under her grasp. Evie cried out, succumbed there and hitched to shake and shudder. Billy closed his eyes while she got off. Couldn’t wait to be the one who got her there.

   “Fuck, Evie. You’re killing me.” One fists jerked up and down. Unable to get close because he was distracted with her. “I can’t...fucking shit. I was almost there a moment ago when you were here and now, ah…fucking hell.”

   “Sounds like you need help.” Evie stretched like a cat against her pillows. Still trembling.

   “Or another hand.” He sighed. “Or a mouth. Think about how you’d leave that red lipstick all over my dick.”

   “I got an idea. If you give me shit, I’ll end you.” Evie pushed her blissful body up. “Come up to the window.”

   “What…” Billy shoved a sheet aside to see her. Out of breath and curls sticking all over. Blushed and fucked. Gorgeous. “What are you doing?” He was still slowly jerking himself to keep the momentum. Evie looked around the grass and shrubbery. Rolled her eyes before lifting up her shirt and moving the bra down.

   Billy’s mouth dropped along with his phone so she giggled as he disappeared to grab it.

   “Fuck!” Billy caught himself and returned.

   “Are they everything you pictured?” She bit her lip and winked. He was dead intent on her tits. Mouth open. Working himself harder.

   “Push them against the window.”

   Her hard, dark rosy nipples pressed there and Billy moaned. Wished he had them in his hands. Wished he would fuck her mouth and shoot his load on them.

   “Yes, Evie, fuck.” He submitted. Almost sounded like a zombie. Under her spell. Typical boy. Working himself until… “Gonna cum.” Strings of release hit the wall as Billy dropped the phone again to finish. Evie still heard his muffled moans on the end and brought herself back down, giggling at the same time Billy fell into his pillows.

   “Did I lose you, Billy?”

   “No, but if you could pick my balls up off the floor, that’d be great.” He puffed and felt around for a tee to clean up with. “Okay. I’m gonna say this. We’re going to fuck. Hear me? I am going to fuck you. Can’t today. But, it's happening.”

   “So certain. What, are you spent already?”

   “Not gonna plan that far, we hang out as you say...and see what happens.” He caught his breath. “Can’t do it here and your two guards are going to be on you this week.”

   “You thought awhile about this.” Evie licked her lips, still fixing her bra in place. “Maybe my common sense comes back.”

   “Maybe you admit you’re warming up to me again. Sizzling fuse.”

   “Yeah, yeah.” Evie rose out of bed and paused to sigh. Tone shifting. "Billy?"

   "Hm?"

   “What if he comes back?”

   “He’s scared. He won’t. I stopped him.”

   “I feel like I’m going to be constantly looking over my shoulder. You know?” Evie didn't want to touch the floor again.

   “Then, I guess I know where to stand for your attention.” His quip had Evie biting her lip. Roses bloomed up her thighs and cheeks. “I also left my number under your lamp, by the way. Use it.”

   Evie blinked and lifted it to see a torn slip with his handwriting. Slippery bastard.

   “Yeah, I got it.” She bit back a smile. “I’ll...ah, see you later, Billy.”

   “Yes, you will.” He paused. “One more question. More of a courtesy.”

   “What?”

   “Preferred method of birth control? Have a couple rubbers. I’m clean, by the way. But, are you an in or out type of girl?” 

   “Also clean. And I’m an avid user of the pill, smartass. Use that information however you like.” She hung up, leaving Billy to laugh on the other end. He brought the phone away, still so stupid happy. Dreaming himself away.

   Psyche went through so many trials for Cupid. Billy wondered about the after. About Eros picking up some trials of his own to keep a girl that tangled him so ardently. About how it felt worth it down to the beating core. All’s fair...

   Evangeline Fenny might really be the end of him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for tuning in!! That was actually my first full phone sex scene, it's so fun to write these two and their weird dance. I just love them more by the chp. xx Stay and chat with me if you can! As is open :)

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch​​ @nottherightseason​​ @orxhidshavana​​   @alagalaska​​ @alongcamedolly​​ @kellyk-chan​​ @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber​​ @charmed-asylum​​ @unmistakablyunknown​​

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #mine #writing #SOMY #Angel Fenny #billy x angel

[theleagueof13]

I Don’t Really... Like Agatha? Sorry. This will be explained, I promise. I do like her, just in a different way.

This is going to be super controversial, I know it. 

Surprisingly, this started in Book 1. 

My first thought when I was introduced to Agatha was: I would not be friends with her. 

Like, okay, you’re goth and edgy and ugly and different. That’s cool. But, 

Let Sophie Go. 

Clearly, Sophie wants to become a princess and have a fairytale. That’s all she’s ever dreamed of, it’s in the first chapter. And Agatha wants a normal life in Gavaldon, which is understandable. 

So, she tries to “save” Sophie from being taken by the School Master. But the way I see it, Agatha is clinging on to Sophie because she’s the only friend that she’ll ever have, and if she leaves, Agatha will have nothing. Agatha even SAYS that Sophie is the only one who makes her feel accepted. 

This turns out to be a theme for the rest of the plot: Agatha wants her old life back with her friend. She even achieves that at the end, kind of. I don’t have a problem with that, you know? However, it’s not like Sophie was the darling of Gavaldon and her popularity transfers to Agatha in their friendship. Radley points out that Sophie is hanging out with a witch, so Agatha still has the same reputation. 

So, Agatha just plans on living the rest of her life as an outcast? Sophie makes her FEEL normal. She’s not actually normal in Gavaldon terms. In fact, she’d probably be scapegoated for a famine or wildfire or kidnapping the children, and then sentenced to death by The Elders. 

When she gets to SGE, she wants to return home... for WHAT? Sure, the students at School for Good tease you (and this time, you don’t have Sophie to back you up), and the teachers don’t have much faith in you.  I know what it feels like to be alone and doubted by everyone. Still though, this is a magical school, and Agatha can learn magic. Literally who would turn that down? Granted, Ever Girl classes are about beauty and grace, two things Agatha would fail in, but she is so smart.  If she focused on magic and spells and put her mind to it, she could easily become powerful. Just talk to Dovey, talk to August Sader, ask them about improving your skills beyond posture or smiling (also this could’ve been an amazing opportunity for Agatha to have scenes with her so-called mentors, but no, she speaks two words to them, they wink at her knowingly and when they die, we’re supposed to cry? Bullshit.) 

 Agatha has shown that she’s badass already. Why not become more powerful and prove the Ever Girls wrong? Instead, she wants Sophie to kiss Tedros so they can resume their friendship in Gavaldon. 

By the way, neither girl LIKES their school. That’s why Sophie was convinced to go to the School Master. She was like, damn, if we can’t switch schools and I can’t go to the Snow Ball, what’s the point? Fine, I’ll settle for Agatha. 

I don’t know, I think Agatha was selfish in holding back Sophie. Just let her flirt with Tedros, what’s so hard about that? Oh, you feel inadequate because you’ve lost Sophie’s attention? Grow a backbone (yes, I know that’s the point of the book). 

 Anyways, if you only saw through Sophie in the beginning, you would have known that the faster Sophie chases after her fairytale, the faster she’ll fail and put it to rest (after a world-ending tantrum, but it would’ve cut the page count in half. So I don’t need to read this much boy drama). 

The Glow Up

Everyone raves about this damn scene. Agatha becomes confident, yay! Inspiring to young girls everywhere. That’s established. Let’s move on. 

SGE is about subverting expectations, appearances vs reality, friends vs love. We know that. Except Agatha is just... 

When Agatha became “pretty”, and then realized her inner beauty shines past her looks, I thought she would KNOCK BITCHES DOWN. I was rooting for her. I thought she’d finally put Sophie in her place. 

This was destroyed when Agatha became like the Ever Girls she hated for the first part of the book. She develops a crush on Tedros, which was the defining feature of the Ever Girls: liking boys. Nothing wrong with that, it was just out of place. I understand that Tedros might have caught feelings after Agatha saves his life, that’s a trope we’re familiar with and it makes sense. 

What doesn't, is that Agatha reciprocates? She’s been grossed out by boys the whole book, what makes Tedros different? Literally what switch flipped in her brain. That she’s worthy of love? Girl, if you're “confident” now and suddenly dating a boy that you never genuinely got to know... Also, was Tagatha even considered a relationship? They don’t hang out until TLEA. I feel like Agatha was just excited to have a guy like her for once. They call each other “true love” based on what? We BEEN KNEW Tedros is dumb (okay, you picked her in all the challenges, that’s not real proof), and Agatha, do you even know his last name? 

^ if anyone’s watched the Witcher, Yennefer is very similar to Agatha and she gains her physical beauty after she’s finished with her training as a mage. Also, Yennefer is dating a hot guy with authority WHILE she’s still ugly. Love that for her. (This situation is different because Yennefer is morally grey, maybe evil, but I like this arc better than Agatha’s).

Lesbian Agatha? Simp Agatha?  What’s going on??

This started when I noticed on Goodreads that some people genuinely thought Agatha was lesbian. (Me being me, this went over my head).  

Like, okay I get it, Agatha MIGHT be a simp for Sophie. I do kinda get it. 

Throughout the book, Agatha repeatedly is there for Sophie even when Sophie treats her like shit (I don’t have to explain each example, right? We been knew.)

What stands out to me most was when 1. she literally turned into a cockroach and stayed up all night for weeks to help Sophie study 2. cheated and guided her in the Trial By Tale  (risking her life several times in the process). 

That wasn’t because she had a Good heart (though it contributed). It was because Agatha wanted to protect Sophie. 

The only reason I didn’t include all the times Agatha helped Sophie make Tedros fall in love with her was because she thought that Sophie’s kiss would send them back home, so that was theoretically for her own benefit (although we know that Sophie was just using Agatha). 

Also, I distinctly remember Sophie having a Regina George moment with Agatha where she was like “why are you so obsessed with me?!”. Because Agatha was being all “😔👉🏻👈🏻 we’re friends” and Sophie was like GET YOUR OWN LIFE YOU’RE RUINING MINE!!! 

Nitpicky Shit

This is irrelevant, when you come for me don’t mention this part because I’m not all that pressed. 

Agatha comes off as Not Like Other Girls. She says that everyone at School for Good are stupid/shallow RIGHT OFF THE BAT. Obviously Beatrix didn’t make a good impression, but come on. 

She hates that all the girls are obsessed with boys and looks. Just because you’re not interested doesn’t mean others can’t be. It came up several times and I was so irritated. Not to mention that Sophie was basically a carbon copy of Beatrix except that she’s nice to her. 

This is extremely SJW of me but I had to say it. Sophie is a typical bratty blonde. Agatha is said to be hideous, then finds out she was beautiful all along. I felt like this would’ve been better if Agatha had Real unconventional features. 

She’s tall, skinny and pale with big eyes. That is a textbook runway model and fits Eurocentric beauty standards. It’s not like making Agatha fat, short, and dark-skinned with acne is going to enhance the book, although it would be so, so nice.  

Might be editing this later on! I don’t know!

Disclaimer: Agatha’s still a good character, I still like reading about her. 

#The School for Good and Evil

[deppresing-thoughts101]

feelings . :/

most days I feel like giving up is my only option.

I always do things to self-distruct

I’m so angry all the time

boys only want you for your looks.

I isolate my self from eveyone

your not to skinny your not to skinny your not to skinny your not to skinny

what the fuck is wrong with me, did I do somthing ? Why is everything going down hill , why am I losing people everyday , why why why? why me? am I that messed up? is that a sign?

somtimes I stay up all night so I can sleep all day and not eat so I don’t get fat

I told you my pain and you just did the same thing they all did..

why smile if it’s not gona say

Every time you

tell your daughter

you yell at her

out of love

you teach her to confuse

anger with kindness

which seems like a good idea

till she grows up to

trust men who hurt her

cause they look so much

like you.

i don’t know what living a balanced life feels like

when i am sad

i don’t cry i pour

when i am happy

i don’t smile i glow

when i am angry

i don’t yell i burn

the good thing about

feeling in extremes

is when i love

i give them wings

but perhaps

that isn't

such a good thing

cause they always

tend to leave and

you should see me

when my heart is broken

i don't grieve

do you ever just like wish you didint exist, that your a worthless peice off shit that should not be aloud to live. so yeah ima just go die in a hole bye.

sometimes you just have to smile, you just have to or someone will ask you a million questions, but at the same time. what the point of smiling if it’s fake ?

no crazy shit but does anyone elese wana throw there phone

why me

my mind is so dark

there’s no light at the end of the tunnel

I can’t sleep

I can’t eat

I hate my body

I just wana feel okay again

I wana be pretty

I wana be happy

I’m unvolved

I’m worthless

I need a reason

I have no purpose

I make no difference

I feel less and less like myself everyday

I’m disgusting

I can feel my mental pain physically

I just want it to stop

FUCK

I have became hurtful to my self again..

I don’t know what to do

I was already shattered but everyone and everything around me is crushing the pieces more and more and I can’t take it

everything is getting worst

I had a terrible breakdown today

I don’t see myself having a future

I’m crushed

I’m done

I disappoint everyone

friends.

family.

it’s very clear

there’s no point

to anything anymore

you know when you feel miserable for no reason? do you ever just feel like if you tried talking to anyone about it they would think that your wasting your time or they your attention seeking ? or if they did care you wouldn’t want them to be worried because you feel helpless anyways?

somtimes I wish I could go back to the begging and restart life , do things right , I hate life sm.

I don’t wana talk to everyone , I feel like secretly deep down everyone hates me and does not wana say it. I just sit in my room at night listing to music crying and hating my self 100x more.

why just why , I’m just . why?

do you ever just sit in the mirror and point out every flaw. everything that’s bad and wrong about you and think about all the bad things people say about you . am I good enough ?

I take my pills and I’m happy all the time .. happy all the time .. happy 💔

why can’t I do anything right, it hurts so much like I make a big effort but they don’t in return.

fuck life // 4:35 am

I wish I could hit pause and be left alone for a while. But if I do this in real life, if I isolate myself for a while, life just keeps going. You still have to do stuff, to answer people, to live up to some stupid expectations. Life doesn’t wait. And then I feel guilty for wasting my time, for not doing anything. I don’t even enjoy taking a nap. I just want to be in peace. Without all the trouble, the people, the expectation, the noises, the lights, and all the shit in life. Just pause everything and sleep. Stop thinking about anything. Stop feeling anything. Pure emptiness. But not the bad heavy devastating one. The sweet pure relaxing emptiness. Sometimes I feel so insecure as shit and I think about myself and these words are coming into my mind : “stick”, “ugly”, “small piece of shit”, “worthless”, “unattractive” etc. They just appear in my mind and all I want at that very moment is to write them down on my arms or my legs. And I think about how bad I want to take my razor blades and just do it. Just to let the pain go away. Just to make these words disappear from my mind. Just to be able to fucking sleep without feeling this way. But then I remember those words are already on my arms and/or legs. I remember I’ve already done that to myself.

And I realise I still want to do it again.

And I think that’s what hurts the most.

I thought I was doing better. Like not in a “Everything’s fine and I’m totally cured” way or anything. But for a while I felt, I don’t know, a little less bad about myself or about my life. And I remember I told myself it was good, I was making progress and I started believe maybe I could do it. But I felt down again. Harder, deeper, darker. I had another crisis, a mental breakdown. It was horrible. I almost forgot how the pain felt. When it hit me again, I broke down so damn hard I thought I was gonna die, suffocating. And it’s always like that. I think I’m doing better and then some shit happens and I keep making the same mistakes and I realize I’m still so fuckep up. It just feels like this will never end. It feels like nothing will ever change, and I will stay in this vicious circle my whole life. And God, I’m tired of this. Some days are hard. 

Some days, I can’t. I can’t stand myself. I can’t cope with the idea of living with myself. I can’t look at the mirror without crying. Some days, when I look at myself, I only see “flat”, “ugly”, “stupid”, “not funny”, “worthless”, “dumb”, “useless” and it’s unbearable. Because at these days, I hate myself so much… And it hurts so bad that I literally shut myself down. 

Some days, I don’t understand. I don’t understand what my family sees in me. I don’t understand what my friends like about me. I don’t understand how such amazing people could ever tolerate me. I don’t understand how people could want to be with me, because I’m such a shitty worthless garbage.  I WANT TO DIE. OH GOD I WANNA BE DEAD. I.JUST.WANT.TO.FUCKING.DIE. I’M DONE. I CAN’T. I REALLY CAN’T HANDLE ALL OF THIS SHIT ANOTHER DAY. I WANT TO PUSH A BUTTON AND JUST STOP EXISTING. I WANT TO DIE. THERE IS JUST SO MUCH ANGER INSIDE OF ME AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I FEEL LIKE THAT. LIKE SOMETIMES, IT JUST HITS ME. SOMETIMES I’M ANGRY WHILE I’M ALONE IN MY BEDROOM. I’M NOT EVEN MAD AT SOMEONE. THERE IS JUST TOO MUCH PRESSURE AND I JUST KINDA BREAK DOWN. I WANT TO SCREAM, TO PUNCH SOMETHING, TO BREAK THINGS. IN THESE TIMES, NO ONE CAN TALK TO ME BECAUSE I JUST GET ANGRY SO FAST FOR NO REASON AT ALL… AND THEN I START CRYING BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING ELSE I CAN DO. I can’t keep doing this .. I AM SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I TRY SO HARD… SO FUCKING HARD TO BE JUST LIKE THE OTHER GIRLS, TO LOOK NORMAL, TO FAKE A SMILE, TO PRETEND I’M OKAY SO THAT THE PEOPLE I LOVE WON’T GET HURT BECAUSE OF ME. AND IT’S REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT TO DO THAT. AND I REALLY TRY HARD BUT IT DOESN’T CHANGE ANYTHING. IT DOESN’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE AT ALL. IT’S NEVER ENOUGH. NEVER. AND ITMAKES ME SO DAMN ANGRY. I CAN’T STOP. I TRIED, I REALLY DID. BUT THE BLOOD JUST KEEPS RUNNING OUT OF  MY BODY. THE RAZORBLADES REMAIN MY ONLY FRIENDS. THE SCARS ARE STILL THERE. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I CAN’T STOP IT. I CAN’T… CAUSE’ I NEED IT. I don’t understand how people just don’t see the pain. It’s everywhere. How can they just live their lives like if everything was fine? How do they manage to do it every single day? How can they not see it? How can they not feel that something is terribly missing, that something is wrong? How can they just ignore the pain? How can everyone not see it? Waking up, going to school/work, coming back home, eating, taking a shower, sleeping - when we can - and doing it all over again, every fucking day until our death… Is that all? Is that really everything we can expect ? Is that what we call “life” ? I really miss taking baths. I used to when I was younger. It was my escape. I used to plunge my head into the water, hold my breath, and open my eyes. I didn’t hear anything. My vision was blurred. It felt safe, it was quiet and I didn’t feel anything anymore. And I’d like to do it again, just once to ease the pain I’m feeling right now. Only now, I don’t know if I’d get my head out of the water. I don’t know if I’d survive taking a bath. Because yeah, that’s how badly I’m damaged. I miss you every single day and I can’t handle you being away, not being here with me. It’s tearing me apart because I need you, and I just realize this now. I can’t deal with your absence. Everything reminds me of you. Like, I can’t even enjoy watching a sunrise, cause it’s nothing compared to the brightness in your eyes. Do you see how messed up I am? I’M REALLY STARTING TO WONDER WHAT’S THE POINT. WHAT’S THE POINT OF ALL OF THIS? WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP SUFFERING? LIFE ISN’T REALLY THAT AMAZING, AT THE END. SO WHAT’S THE POINT?

[bunker-verse]

Drabble: Into the Fire ( welcome, Jedi Collins )

                “I dunno, Sam,” Buffy’s sunny, these days. Lots of yellow, a re-appearance of spring butterflies here and there in her hair. Like she’s trying to use color to pull herself out of whatever funk she’s been in lately. Shades of morning and summer to offset her gloomy demeanor. Her eyes cast down to her half-eaten yogurt, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with an equally tired, equally glum Caroline who hasn’t taken her eyes off Stefan since he walked into the room. It’s late, somewhere in the midst of twilight that sees these overworked, underpaid Avengers finally up and at ’em. Sitting down to the world’s most depressing breakfast before heading out for nightly patrols.

Buffy sighs without making a sound and doesn’t lift her gaze until she absolutely has to, “I mean, I don’t have context, I’ll grant you — I only faced Katherine once. And I know you guys have history,” which is the nicest way, ever, of saying Sam has a thing about bad girls that gets him into an awful lot of trouble, “It’s just, after everything she’s done. Sam. After everyone she’s hurt…”

         Sam half-smiles, flinches, that annoyed little tick that rears it’s ugly head when someone’s listening, but they’re not hearing him. He’s frazzled, has to get his hair out of his face, so he brushes it back with both hands, “You know, I get it. I do, I get why you’ve got reservations and, you should. Katherine’s done a lot of damage but if we’re saying that makes her damaged goods? That she’s not worth saving? I’m sorry, I just don’t accept that.”

                  That would be catnip to Faith if she hadn’t checked out the minute Katherine’s name was brought up. She’s vaguely aware of what’s going on, and about how much of Sam’s ass will get kicked later on for this weird obsession with a former slice that was, by all accounts, a cheap placeholder for Faith in his life. Right now, though? By the grace of God, it’s none of her business. 

She’s sliding in her earpods, intent on ignoring this all in favor of every Smashing Pumpkins song she’s ever heard, when one of them is suddenly yanked out of her ear. She turns her head a bit, just in time to see Damon plop down on the seat between Ric and herself with a smirk and the most wicked eyebrows you’ve ever seen. 

    He wants something, and it’s distracting to Sam to watch Damon sweep glossy curls off Faith’s neck as a dramatic prelude to whispering something in her ear, cheek to cheek, that tickles her enough to crack a pirate grin across her face — distracting, but not for the reason you’re thinking. Damon’s too touchy-feely. Especially here lately, walking around cocooned in the glow of eternal honeymoon. Pulling a Joe Biden with anyone who doesn’t flinch. It’s just how he is and they all know he doesn’t mean anything by it. Ric doesn’t even look up from his book for anything but a bite of his sandwich. He doesn’t really need to. For all their bullshit, there’s a trust building there that’s a beautiful thing to behold — or, it would be, if anyone noticed. So long as Damon’s not leering at Sam, Ric can deal.

Sam’s still not happy, about to lay the whole situation out because Buffy’s about as wrong as you get without being Bizarro Superman. When someone finally busts in, it’s Dean. Both elbows on the giant table, forehead in his hands. Frustrated by a replay of fluffy-headed nonsense from the original Ruby Apologist, “Alright, alright, alright,” he uses his patented shushing hand to quiet his brother before he can do more damage, eyes still shut for another blissful moment before he’s got to join the conversation, “Look, Dude. I get you have some fond memories there, who wouldn’t? But Buffy’s right. What’s Katherine ever done but go full-on Cujo on us? Huh? No. No, Sammy, we got our own problems now. Long as she doesn’t go floatin’ around, making noise, we got no reason to cross her path, but fat-ass chance of her staying quiet.”

                   Sam’s complaint catches in his throat and he’s on his feet, pacing away towards the telescope with both fists in his hair. He sighs, turns back to the group and tries not to look like a toddler with his arms folded, “Fine. You’re right, she’s not trustworthy… and I’m not saying she is but she came to me for help. I think. Maybe she just needs to feel like she can come to us if she’s in trouble?”

Caroline sighs, obviously tired. Of the conversation, mostly. She definitely got more sleep when she was human. Her cheek’s resting hard on the edge of her balled-up fist and when she speaks, it’s weakly through a set jaw, “Okay. I don’t love it, but if you think she’s being genuine? We trust your judgement.” she glances around the rest of the group, hoping for some show of support to put an end to a conversation she doesn’t really want to be having, “Don’t we?”

      The room falls almost silent at that, no one really wanting to be the first to agree that Katherine Pierce should get the benefit of any doubt. What sounds there are seem nervous. The squeak of the cloth against Giles already clean glasses. Dean loudly clearing his throat. A ‘since when’ look on Castiel’s face that’s almost audible. Sam’s pissy, “Yeah.” is the cherry on top of the silence. He’s not getting anywhere with this group, and he knows it.

               “Never fear,” if there’s one thing Xander Harris is good at, it’s putting himself in a situation that might end in a kicking of his ass. It’s a good thing the group in front of him is used to crappy surprises, because in other circumstances? Announcing his presence like a jump scare to a group of tired, jittery superheroes might have ended badly. As it is, the tension and exhaustion is obvious as he makes his way into the middle of the War Room with a clearly unwanted junior Slayer and a pretty little red-headed thing no one’s ever seen before,  “Xander’s…” he’s barely acknowledged. He slows, looks around at a crowd that’s definitely not happy to see them, “… here?” then glances back at his posse with an uninspired, sarcastic shrug, “And you guys were worried we were interrupting something.”

Kennedy, who looks less than enthusiastic to be part of an entourage lead by Xander Harris, shoots the room a look and puts one hand on her hip and a friendly arm around the new girl’s shoulders, “See, Jedi? I told you the Men of Letters were total adults,” it’s sarcasm, but at least it’s a chipper sarcasm.

          If confusion could manifest as a person, it would be the new girl in the room. With her huge, innocent eyes and miles of ginger mane, Jedi definitely stands out in the crowd of exhausted hunters. She’s taking things in as calmly as she can, but being in the Men of Letters bunker, for someone with a heightened olfactory sense, is like being in a candle shop. A gross, disgusting candle shop that sells trash-scented candles. It’s sensory overload for someone not used to it. The Slayers smell human, mostly. Like a fight, the dirt in a wet cemetery all being masked by expensive perfume and cigarettes. The hunters, more like booze and gunpowder — all familiar to her. 

                       What’s not familiar? There are corpses in this room. They walk, they talk. They spend too much time on their hair. The group’s vampire-to-everyone-else ratio is actually ridiculously high, and if it weren’t for the fact that there were more than one species of vampire in this room, they’d be easy to pick out just from the scent.

        And there’s a demon in there. Sulfur, whiskey and fear. At least one, but demons aren’t something Jedi’s run into, much, and pinpointing exactly what that scent is will likely keep her up, tonight. Xander glances back at her, “You okay, Jed?” she nods, and he goes back to addressing the group, “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this isn’t great timing, but we kinda have a fire to put out, here.”

                       If Damon smells a werewolf, he’s not saying anything. Just finds a way to sit closer to Ric and gently elbow his ribs to get him into the game. It works, and when Ric looks up he finds that Caroline and Stefan are sharing a concerned glance, one that makes it’s way towards Dalaric. The vampires look to Angel, standing as far off from the group as he physically can manage without technically being in another room. There seems to be a consensus among the undead — vampires and werewolves aren’t a great mix on a good day, but with everything going on with Katherine and the Hellmouth, now’s not really the time for a strange wolf in the mix.

           Dean closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose and winces as Sam tosses him a beer from the other side of the table. He catches it in mid-air, twists it open and motions with it to the newbies in the group, “Who the hell gave him a key?” not that Dean has an issue with Xander, besides hating his guts, but lately it’s starting to feel like they’re running a hotel for the Shadow World.

                      Heavily, Sam takes the empty seat beside Faith and absently drapes an arm across her back, coupling easily in a way that makes Dean’s stomach turn. She’s not even paying attention, reacts by resting comfortably back against him and finally opening her mouth on the subject, “What are you guys even doing here, anyway? Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you’re lookin’ to get a room for the night? We’re all booked up on crazy, here.”

         “See? I told you this was a waste of time – ” Kennedy starts, but Xander’s not having it.

        “Look,” he interrupts, folding his arms, “I’m getting we walked into a hornet’s nest, here, but we’ve pretty much got bad coming out the wah-zoo. As the Undead Americans probably already figured out, Jedi’s a werewolf. Thing is, she’s trying to outrun a bigger wolf and we need a place to lay low while we figure out how to take him on.”

                         Jedi’s attention is taken by Kennedy, who’s still leaning on her, arm around her like they’re friends. If Kennedy seems too calm, it’s because she is. This doesn’t affect her like it affects everyone else and, frankly, she thinks she should get brownie points for bothering to show up. Kennedy rolls her eyes, looks from Dean to Sam, “I seem to remember someone telling us if we ever needed help?”

         “Yeah,” Dean’s the one who responds, pushing out of his chair and making his way towards Xander’s group. He’s looking down his nose at them, literally. Chest puffed out. Fucking werewolf. He knew he didn’t like the smell of this whole thing, “Well, that means the Slayers, Buddy. Not you, and not just any old rando demon off the street. How do we know this thing’s even house broken?”

“She’s not a ‘thing‘.” as if Dean doesn’t infuriate Xander on the regular, as it is, “Hey, she’s innocent, okay? She needs help. We do still help people, right?”

                        “Right,” it’s back to Dean, standing taller in his boots. Shoulders back, in no mood, “People. We help people, Harris. Oh man, do you ever have bad timing.”

          “We just lost people,” Buffy slowly makes her way towards the group, Caroline and Willow not far behind. She crosses her arms stiffly and glances over at Willow before continuing, “A Slayer. A couple of hunters. It was wolves, Xand. We were ambushed. I- I know she had nothing to do with it, but this? It’s just a little hard to take right now.”

“I mean, we wanna help?” when Willow finally speaks, there’s a weakness to it. The weight of that loss on her heart is audible in her voice, “We will help, just…”

     Sam takes his time standing, prompting Faith with him. It takes them both a few long moments to crowd around the newcomers, shoulder to shoulder. He sighs, “She’s right, we’ll help if we can but Xand, we’re at war right now. I mean, another Hellmouth went active just three hours from here and KC’s rumbling. Now the Clave is pushing us to put up the Lightwoods for a couple of weeks to learn how to control dimensional disruption because Brooklyn’s a full-blown Hellmouth. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll do what we can do. We just need to be sure having her here’s not putting everyone else in danger.”

                “Dude,” Dean sighs it out, “We’re not set up to deal with a werewolf here, okay? Full moon in three days, Sammy! Use your head. You really wanna risk that thing tearing into somebody, huh? Having to put it down?”

     She.” Xander’s about in Dean’s face, now. He knows. He knows what’ll happen to him if he throws a punch, but he’s not thinking straight, “Not ‘it’, she and she’s got a name. Jedi.”

                 Dean sneers, starts advancing on Xander in a way menacing enough that Jedi finally wrestles herself away from Kennedy and practically lunges at Dean, baring human teeth the way you’d expect a wolf to bare theirs. Surprisingly, it’s Faith who slides between the wolf and her brother-in-law, takes one of Jed’s shoulders and spins her back into Xander so hard it almost topples them both, “Whoa! Watch it, Jojo! Anybody’s gonna tear his throat out? Gonna be me.” Faith starts to step back, cautiously, reclaim her place beside Sam like it’s her birthright or something, “You best leash that dog, Harris. Somebody’s gonna get hurt.”

        For Jedi, though, it’s not over and as soon as she gets her balance again, she’s headed for Dean. Slow, angry. Out to protect the man who saved her life. Dean’s calm about it, when he reaches for his gun. It’s almost casual if there is such a thing. Before she’s anywhere near him, he raises the weapon, aims it and squeezes off a round – grazes her cheek, “Warning shot, Mama. Next time I don’t miss.” he up-nods in her direction, “Back off, Bitch.”

                       When the bullet whizzes by, Jedi’s head turns with it. She snaps back, slow and angry, glaring at Dean. She’s bleeding. Long, thin cut on her cheekbone. And her eyes, usually that pale, grey-blue that nobody seems to notice but Xander? Are steeled, angry wolf eyes glowing an intense punch of blue that startles the group and makes everyone take a step back, “I will rip your testicles off,” and there’s a pause, a long beat before Jedi sneers, echoing Dean, “Bitch.” Her claws are out, and that’s werewolf speak for ‘put up or shut up’.

Except, no one’s listening to that warning. Definitely not heeding it because everyone in the room packing heat has their weapon out, sight trained on the new girl.

        Sam reaches out to gently touch the back of Faith’s arm like it might calm her down, gun still aimed in the other. He’s about to say something that’ll probably make this a thousand times worse, when Ric pushes through the group and gets between Dean’s gun and Jedi. He puts his hands up, reality suddenly dawning on him and forcing him to realize that Dean might actually shoot him. As if on cue, Damon slithers in between Ric and Dean with a smirk on his face that’s begging his least favorite Winchester to give him a reason to vamp out. Alaric sighs, rests his hand on Damon’s shoulder in hopes of calming the situation, and addresses the crowd, “Okay! Okay, everybody just calm down. She came to us for help. We’ve got food and we’ve got rooms. If someone pulls their trigger, this won’t end well. No one needs to die tonight.”

                  It’s tense, though. The standoff drags on for another long few seconds until Dean grunts and lowers his gun, a cue for the rest of the group to do the same. Alaric’s clearly relieved, lets out a breath he’d been holding in as Dean stalks off, angrily exiting the room and hell bound for the kitchen.

              While the room cools down, Willow tries to smile at Xander, “Well, at least nobody got shot this time? I mean, that’s progress?

@jedicollins @professional-brat @strangeandoffputting @samattheend @choosingtogodownswinging @thatslayer @ricsidiotbestfriend @allroundlostcause @iwannadogirlystuff @unicornsrequired @optimisticyellowcrayon

#bunkerverse #bvdrabble #jedicollins #Welcome to Lebanon #written by thatslayer with the help of jedicollins choosingtogodownswinging samattheend #drabble; into the fire

[xoxoendoh]

A Prickly Pair

Prompt: Temari Week / Month 2018, Day 1: Hourglass ⏳ (Sorry I’m late!)

Summary: Shika tries his damnedest to ensure Tema’s first birthday they spend together is perfect…but life has a way of turning the best intentions upside-down. ;) Ninja-verse + all the Naruto crew!

Also, if my god-awful 🌵 pun of a title didn't give it away, lemme just say this: prepare yourself for a long fic with major fluff and cracky humor! 

Rating: T; colorful language, birthday booze, some suggestive themes 😏 There are two f-bombs—two!—but they are well-deserved, so I'm leaving this fic as T.

Soundtrack: “Magic in the Hamptons” by Social House (ft. Lil Yachty)—it's so damn catchy!

Also: Hanakotoba is the art of conveying messages / sentiments through flowers. For example, you might send yellow camellias to a SO who's been away on business as a way of conveying "longing." 💐

Read on FF.net here + this will have a Part II / continuation...soon-ish!

Shikamaru knew he was in trouble. One way or another, he knew he was going to have his ass handed to him. As that notion wasn’t exactly incentivizing, ...his lazy ass had procrastinated: now he had one day.

“What a drag…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, both elbows resting on his thighs.

If there was one thing he knew about the other troublesome women in his life—his mother, Ino, Sakura, even the Godaime—it was that their birthdays might as well have been national holidays.

But if he did what his troublesome woman claimed she wanted, he’d literally be doing nothing. For her birthday.

When he’d seen Temari last month, he had manned the hell up. He’d gritted his teeth, grumbled out of the corner of his mouth, and eventually inquired about her looming birthday. Her response, of course, had been less than helpful. She’d crossed her arms in a huff and flicked her blonde head in the opposite direction. He couldn’t see her face, but he heard her loud and clear: “Shikamaru, you idiot. It’s just a birthday. Don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”

Easier said than done, you impossible woman! he thought, shaking his head.

Because what if she was just saying that? What if she wanted the whole dog and pony show and he was just supposed to know? What if she was playing at one of those stupid female mind games?

Even worse, this wasn’t just any birthday. Oh, no. Of course not!

This year, she’d be stuck in Konoha for the next Chunin Exams planning conference—far away from her family and working on official Suna business. On top of that, this would be their first ‘big event’ or ‘anniversary’ or ‘milestone’—or whatever the hell it was birthdays actually were!—since they became a couple. It had only been three months since they’d made it official, …and that feat had been a special sort of excruciating in itself.

At the memory, Shikamaru face-planted into his folded arms, a feeble effort to hide from the lingering embarrassment. Taking her off the market should’ve been the hardest part! How the hell was he supposed to know it only got more confusing from there?

Because what if she really wasn’t big on birthdays? What if he wrecked it by going all out? Did she want it to be just the two of them? Did she want to pretend birthdays didn’t exist?

“Damn it, I’m hopeless with this stuff…” he grumbled into his elbow, before letting out a long groan. “I’m so screwed, I should have just sent word to her brothers and asked!” He felt a drop of sweat bead under his ear and trickle down.

Too late for that now, genius.

But he was a genius, and there had to be a way to not screw this up! He couldn’t afford to, not so early on in the relationship, not when he didn’t have enough—or any—romantic capital stockpiled to make up for it! But no matter how many different scenarios he ran through, they all played out the same way—painfully. He could see it all so clearly:

Temari backhanding him into next week. Temari grabbing him by the collar and chucking him out a window. Temari launching him airborne with a single swish of her fan. Temari summoning Kamatari to bite his ear off.

Damn, his girlfriend was scary. The thought made his frown falter….

That huffy little pout. The way her blonde pigtails bounced when she stomped over to him, her little hands twitching and ready to slap some sense into him. Her eyes getting that scary teal-fire glow…

He sighed and shook his head, utterly defeated.

Damn her, he thought, grinning despite himself. She’s beautiful even when she wants to wring my neck. He sat up to look across the Nara land, noting the sun’s angle in the melting sky.

If he was going to get his teeth kicked in no matter what he did, he might as well try to do something nice for his girl, …right? He seized the moment of motivation, forming an oval with his fingers, and closed his eyes.

Take her at her word and just find a happy medium! he ordered his brain. Surprisingly, the conclusion came to him a moment later: Dinner with the crew. No one hates a dinner party, and everyone loves her. Done. Easy.

Shikamaru let out a satisfied yawn and crossed his arms, pleased to have settled the matter.

Hold up, genius. Her birthday present!

His hands flew back together.

Damn it, jewelry?

No, he’d never seen Temari wear any, and jewelry would probably breach her “big deal” rule.

Chocolate?

No, they were going to a dinner party. Food on food would be stupid, right?

What do you want, woman?? he wondered bleakly. This is worse than getting Naruto and Hinata’s wedding present! He’d be willing to shell out whatever it took if she would just like what he got her….

Losing the iota of motivation he’d mustered, he lowered his head in another trademarked Shika-sigh.

Times like these, he wished Asuma were still around.

He wished the same for his dad, of course…but Shikaku would have just shrugged noncommittally and told him to ask his mother, anyways. He’d already tried that. His mom, however, had been no help at all. All she’d done was gush about how ‘talented’ and ‘lovely’ Temari was until he’d fled the damn house! Like he needed reminding...

But Asuma…

Well, he would have loved Temari, too. But he would’ve had at least something helpful to offer!

Who am I kidding? Shikamaru couldn’t help the chuckle he felt in his chest. Like Asuma had any moves, anyway! Kurenai-sensei just took pity on the guy. He’d just tell me to get Temari flowers, like it was that simple.

Shikamaru sat up straight, struck by the sheer simplicity of it. Maybe it was that easy, maybe Asuma had it right! Flowers wouldn’t be too flashy or too much of “a big deal” or whatever Temari had called it.

Alright, Dad, Asuma-sensei..., he thought with a faint smile, standing to shrug his hands into his pockets. Let’s see if that famous ‘Ino-Shika-Cho teamwork’ can conquer this.

Game-face on, he trudged his way to the Yamanaka Flower Shop.

If he had thought he’d be prepared for Ino’s excitement, he’d have been dead wrong. Of course, he knew Ino better than that.

“So, uh, do you have any, uh…” he trailed off, unable to look her in the eye, feeling his entire body go tomato-red. Clearing his throat, he tried again, but every word combined into one: “DoyouhaveanyflowersfromSuna?”

Somehow, she deciphered the question he’d asked his feet.

“Shikamaru!” she screamed. “I have been waiting for you to drag your lazy ass in here and get her something! You really know how to wait until the last minute, huh?”

He could hear the haughty smirk in her voice.

“But really, Shikamaru, it’s so sweet!” She sighed dreamily. “You and Temari are perfect together…. And flowers from her home country…”

He looked up just in time to see her eyes glassing over as she clutched at her heart.

“Of course we’ll help you!” Abruptly, the honey left her voice and she traded her doe-eyes for her signature scowl. “Right, Choji?” she growled, smacking Choji’s hand as he reached for the last morsel in her bento,

“Y-yeah, Shikamaru!” he piped up, his red hand floundering until it landed on the back of his neck. “We’ve got your back, bud. You know we love Temari.”

Shikamaru felt relief surge through his system: these two would always save his ass.

Not wasting any time, Ino leapt over the counter, apron strings trailing behind her, and bodily dragged Shikamaru after her. Ignoring his grousing, she wound them through the rows of greenery and fragrant blooms until they reached a partitioned-off portion she called “The Suna Section!!”

“We actually have a pretty good variety of desert plants,” she declared proudly, sweeping a hand out before four tables overflowing with vegetation.

As Shikamaru bent his knees and gaped at the selection, his teammate prattled on, getting more excited with every question:

“So what else are you going to do for her birthday? It’s tomorrow, right? When does she arrive?”

Shikamaru knew she needed answers, but all he could do was gawk at the array of…things…in front of him. There were some squat little plants with ungainly, fat leaves…but they were kinda pretty in their own way: the stupid little leaves fanned out like petals, and they came in purple or a greeny-blue. Above those, he was pretty sure he recognized aloe stalks. Then there were a series of lethal- and ugly-looking things—the sort of things Shikamaru was positive would end up impaling him if he dared to present them to Temari. Spiky barbs, serrated leaves, deceptively plushy-looking fluff guaranteed to needle under the skin… There was nothing even remotely attractive about them….

“Helloooo? Shikamaru?” Ino flicked his ear. “Don’t ignore me when I’m trying to save your ass! What are your plans for Temari??”

“Oh,” he jerked his head up to face her. “Uhh…”

Her hands were on her hips, and he’d learned long ago that was never a good sign.

Laughing nervously, he rose. “Heh, I was kinda, ya know, hoping you’d help with that, too, Ino....”

Exasperated, she groaned. “Ugh, remind me to kill you later.”

Waving his hands in placation, he tried, “But you’re so good at this sort of thing!”

She got that creepy feline grin on her face again—the one that meant she saw through his lame ploy, the one that meant she was plotting—and gave him a wink.

“Fine, I’ll bide my time,” she conceded with an innocent smile. “But watch your back, ‘kay?”

Shikamaru shrugged and rubbed at his neck. He’d worry about her vengeance after he solved the birthday equation.

“Yeah, yeah. So anyway, Temari told me not to make a big deal out of it, but I figure I can’t do nothing.”

“Damn straight, Shikamaru.” Ino nodded sagely. “Damn. Straight.”

“So I was thinking just a simple dinner with the usual group…?”

“That’s perfect!” she squealed.

Shikamaru sighed, grateful for Ino’s stamp of approval.

“Casual and low pressure, but it shows that you thought about it and planned ahead. Well...,” Ino paused to throw him a glare, “that you should have planned ahead—but whatever!”

Ino turned on her heel, clearly satisfied with the intel she’d gleaned.

“W-wait! Ino!” Shikamaru had never sounded so desperate in his life. “Hey, c’mon! Don’t leave me with the plants!”

“Oh, calm down,” she smirked from over her shoulder. “Look them over, read the little descriptions, and just choose one you think she’d like! But actually read the tags, Shikamaru. ‘Cause some flowers have special meanings…and some species are poisonous!”

“Poisonous??”

He gaped at her.

Ino giggled at his appalled expression. She was enjoying his pain. So much.

She’d started out the night as his second favorite blonde…but Naruto had just made the leap up to silver.

“You’re a ninja, you can handle a few thorns! …And it’s not like the poisonous ones are fatal or anything.” With that, she was off, sliding open the screen and skipping through the rows and rows of flowers. “Oh, Chooooji!” she sang for the whole shop to hear. “We’re going to make Shikamaru look real good for his girlfriend! You’re in charge of the dinner reservations, and Sai and I will call everyone to get them on board.” She clapped her hands together like she’d never been so delighted in her life.

“How about that place with the little courtyard in the back? Best barbecue pork in town, great for a party!” he heard Choji offer.

Were they inviting all of Konoha to this thing, or were they just aiming for death by embarrassment?

“Oh, perfect! You’re their best customer, they’d totally pull some last-minute strings for you!”

Shikamaru could almost hear her bouncing in excitement. So maybe she was still his second favorite blonde, but did she have to be so loud?

“Shikamaru,” she called on cue, “we’re off to go plan your girlfriend’s party! Just leave the cash on the counter once you decide, my mom will be down in a bit to close up!”

Shikamaru grimaced as the door slammed. Choji wouldn’t let him down, and Ino was undoubtedly his savior…but he didn’t know a damn thing about plants. He didn’t want to know a damn thing about plants. Griping to himself, he knelt before the green things, cautiously shifting a few pots out of the way to see the full assortment, …waiting for a scorpion or something to lunge at him.

“Pick a plant, pick a plant…,” he droned miserably to himself.

Something not-hideous at the back caught his eye. As he reached toward it, the mesh of his sleeve dragged against some spikes. Glancing down at the culprit, he realized it was a furious-looking—yet somehow beautiful—cactus. Complete with a single, white bloom of multilayered petals, it looked rather like someone had glued a lotus to some wild desert thing. The more he looked at it, the wider his grin grew. It was just like Temari—as gorgeous as it was troublesome—and it was like it had chosen him! As he tried to disentangle himself without catching the spines of any other friendly Suna flora, he knocked over the small ‘Hanakotoba’ card in front of it.

My bad, Yamanakas. Like he was going to risk life and limb to pick up a scrap of paper!

But as he rotated his arm to dislodge the thorns from his shirt, he nicked his wrist.

“Damn,” he muttered, finally succeeding in freeing himself. It wasn’t a grumble this time: “Oh, shit!” Is this one of the poisonous ones?!

He extracted the cactus from the deathtrap of a display and snatched up the description tag staked near its base, frantically scanning for the mention of ‘poisonous’ or ‘toxic.’ Thankfully, it just said ‘See reverse for Hanakotoba Symbolism: Saboten’ and listed the care and lighting instructions. Relieved, he backed away with his hard-fought prize.

“’Symbolism’?” he scoffed, tucking the tag back into the pot. “Pffft. Like Temari cares about that!”

Mission completed, he marched triumphantly to the cash register, slammed the appropriate bills down on the counter, tore off several feet too many of red cellophane wrapping, and vowed never to set foot in the “Suna Section!!” again. 

Temari was all the desert he needed.

–

Temari’s birthday evening was off to a solid start. She’d arrived safely and seemed genuinely pleased with the dinner party idea.

“So you do pay attention every now and then, huh?” she’d purred, smirking at him. Then her lips had softened. More quietly, she’d said, “It’s just what I wanted. A nice evening with my friends and my idiot boyfriend.” She’d kissed his cheek then.

Blood rushed to his face, pride swelled up in his chest: he hadn’t let her down.

Not yet, at least.

But as he went down the ‘gentleman boyfriend checklist’—a set of rules Ino had long ago hammered into her male teammates’ heads—things seemed to keep going smoothly.

They’d parted ways so she could settle in and clean up after her long trek. He’d meticulously mummified her present in that red florist wrap. And he’d done it in a way that would preserve the flower at the top, protect the recipient from the spines, and lead to easy unveiling. Then he’d shown up on time and remembered to bring the stupid plant, just like Ino had instructed. He was actually feeling pretty proud of himself….

And when she exited her hotel, he’d managed to compliment her with a straight face—no fumbling for words or blushing or inappropriate glances!

“You look amazing, Temari.”

It had been no easy feat, however. Seeing her there in the soft glow of the streetlamps… She’d gotten all dolled up in a jade sundress, simple but stunning against her eyes and sun-kissed skin, clinging to the perfect hourglass of her body.

“And you clean up pretty nice yourself, kid,” she retorted, clearly hoping the jab to his sternum would distract him from her rosy cheeks.

It didn’t.

“Glad you didn’t wear a tie, though, or I’d be underdressed!”

Her dark eyes spotted the bright package resting in the crook of his elbow. She quirked an eyebrow and couldn’t quite keep that half-smile of hers from surfacing.

Her voice dripped of sarcasm as she pointed at it: “Should I be scared?”

“Yes,” he said smugly before offering her his arm, like a gentleman.

Hand in hand, they started off for the restaurant. For once in his life, he stood up straight, rolling his usually-slouched shoulders back. He was escorting a bombshell to dinner, so he should at least try to look the part, right?

Halfway to the restaurant, the wind picked up. Shikamaru mentally crossed ‘chivalry’ off his checklist and shrugged off his blazer to drape over her shoulders. She blushed prettily up at him with a sweet smile on her lips.

Keep it up, Shikamaru, he told himself, grinning down at her, and you might just live to see tomorrow!

At last, that lingering sense of dread was fading, and contentment rose to take its place: if there was something he hadn’t thought of, he was sure Ino and Choji had.

When they walked through the courtyard gate, they were greeted with woops and calls of Happy birthday! Temari squeezed his hand and beamed up at him.

Ino rushed over, towing Sai along by the hand, and kissed Temari on both cheeks. “Happy birthday, Temari! You look beautiful—teal is definitely your color.” Not waiting for a response, she snatched the birthday cactus, wrapped shiny and red, from Shikamaru’s hands and transferred it to Sai, who accepted it with a pleasant smile. “We’ll put this with the others. Now, come on and get something to eat!”

“Okay?” was all Temari had time to manage as Ino dragged her off.

As he and Sai followed Ino under the string lanterns, Shikamaru noted his team’s handiwork.

Choji had been right to choose this venue; it was perfect for a private party: the stars were shining, the moon was bright in the sky, the spread was mouthwatering, the barbecue tables allowed for easy mingling and warmed the cool night air. And the turnout was impeccable, considering the literal last minute notice of it all. Everyonewas there. Then again, he knew better than most just how difficult it was to refuse Ino. No doubt, she had personally corralled any stragglers.

“Shall we get a beer, genius?” Sai offered mildly, placing the cactus with the other gifts.

“Beer?” Shikamaru questioned and followed along. He was no longer fazed by Sai’s odd nicknames, but beer piqued his interest. Temari won’t mind, right? Nobody will go too crazy, …right?

On cue, Kiba and Choji appeared, frothing cups in hand, and regaled him with the tale of their labors:

Like mushers with a sled dog, they’d actually strapped a keg of beer to Akamaru, transformed it to look like a crate of sparkling cider, and casually hauled it through the streets. Clever, convenient, and a party trick in itself—Shikamaru approved, giving them sequential high-fives before raising a glass to his girl across the courtyard.

Ino had led her to a yakitori table, and she was immediately surrounded by some of the world’s finest kunoichis. Hinata and Sakura brought over the grilling meat, Karui—who must have been in town for the conference, too—took care of the veggies, and Tenten delivered the all-important beer. Assorted plates of barbecue fodder and plastic cups before them, they were more than prepared to catch up, drink up, and chow down.

Over the foam of his beer, he couldn’t help but appreciate how she was swimming in the blazer he’d draped over her shoulders.

She gave him a little wave, and that was all the permission he needed to take a hefty swig. Kiba and Choji were the true geniuses, he decided. But it wasn’t just Team 10 and Kiba’s keg: despite the last-second notice, everyone had gone all out for his girl. Thanks to them, this was going better than he could have hoped.

As Temari was chatting with her girlfriends, Shikamaru walked with the beer smugglers towards the central fire pit, where Naruto, Shino, and Lee had set up camp.

“Shikamaru, Sai,” Choji sniggered, pausing before they got into earshot of the others, beckoning them closer conspiratorially. “So we’ve got this thing going.”

“Oooh, I forgot!” Kiba butted in, barking out a laugh. “It’s brilliant.”

“We’re calling it ‘Did You Hear Naruto Got Married?’: The Drinking Game.’”

It was Shikamaru’s turn to snicker. Oh, this was going to be good.

“So every time Naruto says something about Hinata or being married or in love or whatever,” Kiba explained, “you have to take a swig.”

“I like games,” Sai agreed happily.

“Everytime,” Kiba emphasized seriously. “Them’s the rules.”

Any idiot could see this was going to go sideways and fast, but Shikamaru just shook his head and let a stupid grin fall on his face.

–

And sure enough, they all would’ve gotten hammered off Naruto’s marital bliss…if Sai hadn’t eventually asked why Naruto himself wasn’t drinking every time the blonde started mooning over his wife. But as it stood, they were all pleasantly buzzed. Naruto—who was somehow closer to plastered than those actually playing the drinking game—had almost fallen out of his cushioned patio chair when Sai had burst the bubble. Lee had a proposed a toast to “YOOOOUTH…ful love!” and even Shino had chuckled behind his turtleneck.

I’ll have to thank Sai later, Shikamaru thought, chuckling to himself. Could’ve gotten troublesome otherwise.

From there, Shikamaru was content to slowly sip his drink and just enjoy the company. He could see Temari was enjoying herself, she didn’t need him attached to her hip. So he watched the evening play out from his overstuffed armchair, foot occasionally tapping to the summery, chill tunes Lee had put on. Lee, he noted, had really good taste in music.

Two beers later, the mountain of barbecue fare had diminished, the groups had dispersed and mixed, Tenten had changed her camera’s memory card at least twice, and everyone had paid their respects to the guest of honor.

By the time Naruto brought him another sudsy cup, Shikamaru looked up to find his girl standing before him, hands on hips, an eyebrow arched expectantly.

“Didn’t save the birthday girl a seat, huh?” she teased, a faint alcohol flush on her cheeks.

He grinned and patted his thigh. “There’s room for both of us.”

Her mouth fell open.

Oh, shit.

He’d just said that. Out loud. This blew right by simply putting his foot in his mouth! No, she was going to put his foot in his mouth! “Tema, I—“

His jacket flew from her shoulders and hit him square in the face.

Someone gasped from behind him.

‘Liquid courage’? More like ‘liquid stupid’ in my hands!

A punch was sure to follow. He braced for impact.

I should have known I’d find a way to screw up tonight—it was going too perfectly!

A second went by, then another, …but nothing happened. All the warning he had was a sweet smell on the crisp air, and then he felt the weight of something warm and toned on his lap.

Wait, really?!

Stunned out of terror, he yanked the blazer off his head, and, sure enough, there she was. Arms and legs crossed, lips pursed, and blushing like mad—but she was perched on his knee.

A few Awww’s rang out from around them.

It must have been the liquid stupid or maybe their friends’ encouragement, but he decided to push his luck a little further. Flinging his coat out like a matador’s muleta, he let it fall over her legs—he was nowhere near drunk enough to risk revealing a wardrobe malfunction—and he pulled her up into him.

She let out an indignant yelp and flailed in momentary surprise…but she stayed put.

“Idiot,” she grumbled, fidgeting with his blazer blanket.

Yet she rotated in his arms to cuddle into his chest, tucking her legs up under his coat.

“Maybe, but I’m your idiot,” he laughed, tightening his arm around her bare shoulder. Apparently, beer turned him stupid…and really sappy. He was better off changing the subject. “You having fun?”

“Mhhmm.” She nodded against his shirt.

“Good.”

Basking in the glory of success, he ran his hand up and down her bare arm, keeping the chill off, and looked up to the cloudless night. Sitting there with his girl, fighting off a contented yawn, he realized he could get used to this. Maybe ‘Did You Hear Naruto Got Married?’: The Drinking Game’ was catching up to him in more ways than one….

A touch on his chest drew him back to the present.

“Shikamaru,” Temari murmured, tugging shyly at his dress shirt, “This is perfect. Thank you.”

Was she pulling at his shirt or his damn heart?? He could practically see it in her little hands! …And he knew he wasn’t getting it back.

Damn it, why am I so lame tonight??

Smiling despite himself, Shikamaru did the only thing he could: he tilted her chin up, thumb running along her jaw, holding her eyes for just a moment, …and stole a quick kiss.

Woops and catcalls and flashes exploded from all around them. 

The hell? he thought, startled out of their kiss. 

Temari almost jumped out of her skin when she looked up to see Tenten clicking away on her camera just a few feet away, but Shikamaru only grinned and hauled his girl into place for the picture. He was too damn happy to bother with the awkward, even when he realized all of them must have been watching his every move with Temari, ninjas lying in wait…. He chuckled and released his favorite blonde, who launched herself at Tenten to threaten her into handing over the camera.

“Teten, I swear I’ll—!”

Ino, socialite extraordinaire, stepped out of Sai’s arm to diffuse the situation.

“Presents!” she proclaimed loudly. Since Temari was conveniently already in the center of the party, she added, “Temari, stay right there!”

Ino’s order seemed to have startled the blushing birthday girl into obedience.

“You have to open Shikamaru’s last. Actually, open ours”—with a wink, Ino thumbed at Sai, who waved amiably—“after Shika’s! But the rest can go in any order.”

Tenten took advantage of her proximity. “Me first!” Beaming, she held up her camera. “My gift will be the prints, of course! Temari, they’re so cute, I swear!”

Tenten’s announcement was met with Aww’s…and few knowing smirks. She’d already captured some solid gold, and she was bound to get some more, if Kiba had anything to say about it.

Reluctantly, Temari acquiesced with a shrug, …one corner of her mouth barely rising. “Fine, fine. But for my eyes only.”

Next up was Shino, who emerged…from somewhere…to stand before Temari. He extended a small box.

Shit, it’s probably a live scorpion or something! 

Shikamaru leapt from his patio chair, preparing to weave a Shadow Possession and intercept the container. He wasn’t about to let Shino ruin her night with some creepy-crawly thing!

But Temari’s dark eyes glimmered with interest, and she shucked off the brown paper wrapping before Shikamaru could act.

Damn it, too late!

But to his surprise, she gave Shino a broad smile.

“Antheraea yamamai,” he declared proudly, erudite.

The evening crickets chirped their entomological approval…but no one else made a peep.

“Shino, c’mon, man!” Naruto whined good-naturedly, arm looped around Hinata. “Translate!”

“A silk moth,” he sniffed, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “It perished naturally, so there is no harm in appreciating its beauty behind glass.”

It was then Shikamaru realized that his desert girl wouldn’t have been fazed by a damn scorpion—or any other of Shino’s insects, probably—in the slightest. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried feebly to make like he’d lurched up for some reason other than saving Temari…from a bug.

“It’s lovely, Shino,” Temari said, holding up glass-top box for everyone to see her moth’s impressive wingspan. “Thank you.”

Sitting back down, Shikamaru had to admit it was pretty classy gift. Maybe I’ll go to Shino for next year….

From there, Kiba and Choji took credit for the ‘Konoha hospitality’—the keg—and Choji dragged Karui out by the hand.

“She made a chocolate cake for everyone! Trust me, you’re gonna love it. Sooo let’s hurry up with the presents, guys!”

“Yeah, his ‘taste test’ left me just enough batter for the cake!” Karui grinned and poked her boyfriend in the stomach.

Hinata rose to offer Temari a book on Konoha’s history and customs, stating with a smile, “From Naruto and me. Since, umm, your work brings you here so often, we hope Konoha becomes your home away from home.”

“’Home away from home,’ huh...?” Temari flipped through it with a sly smirk. “Thanks, Uzumakis.”

Shikamaru felt like he was missing something, but he wasn’t about that troublesome life.

“You’re already wearing my gift!” Sakura yelled from her post near Akamaru, sending over a wolf-whistle.

So that’s where she got the dress. If Shikamaru had been wearing a hat, he would’ve tipped it to Sakura; he made do with a grateful nod. Might have to send a thank-you note for the first and only time in my life…. He smirked.

“My gift will compliment Sakura’s!” Lee shouted with a thumbs-up, tossing her a small package. “What luck!”

A moment later, Temari held up a pair...of violet legwarmers. 

Somehow, she managed to keep a straight face—even as Lee lifted his pant leg in a wild kick to demonstrate just how versatile a garment legwarmers were—and thanked him, placing them with the rest of her bounty.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, had to pretend he’d choked on a nonexistent bite of beef. Tenten gave him a solid thwack on the back, but the reproachful look on her face told him she wasn’t particularly concerned about food being lodged in his throat.... 

But he's wearing legwarmers under slacks, Tenten! Shikamaru pled silently. 

Temari’s words, however, dissipated Tenten’s glare.

“Everyone, thank you.” Temari was looking down, suddenly shy again. “I’m really… I’m feeling the Konoha Hospitality, I guess!”

His girl looked so happy, just in time to unveil the cactus.

Choji was closest to the bench where Sai had left it. “I got it, Shikamaru,” he said and set it on the yakitori table nearest the birthday girl.

Temari raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend, fiddling with the note he’d slipped between the twine, but he just shrugged with a grin. She seemed so pleased with the rest of the night, it probably didn’t matter if his stupid plant didn’t wow her like Shino’s moth had.

“Read the card!” Naruto shouted, another beer in hand.

Shit.

He’d forgotten about that. And how was Naruto still observant with all the alcohol he’d knocked back?

“Uh, maybe not?” Shikamaru tried sheepishly.

Ino had told him to, but nobody else had gotten her a card. On top of that, she’d told him it would be ‘so, so, sooo cute’ to use a ‘term of endearment’ in it. Shikamaru grimaced. He hadn’t exactly planned on everyone hearing it...but maybe it wasn’t a big deal. They were at that point in their relationship, right? It wasn’t weird to call her a petname after a few months, right??

“Read iiiiiit!” Naruto bellowed.

“Alright, alright,” Temari laughed, either not hearing or simply ignoring Shikamaru. “Pipe down, blondie!” She cleared her throat and opened the simple Nara stationary. “’Happy birthday, babe!’” she quoted, smirking around babe. “’I’m a lucky man to have you in my life.’”

Hoots and Awwww’s echoed through the assembled ninja. A peach flush coloring her high cheekbones, his girl blew him a kiss with a wink. Lee clapped him on the back and sparkled a thumbs-up at him.

Shikamaru definitely hadn’t imagined Babe trying out her new petname…on herself—his ears were still burning to prove it—but he nodded in calculated appreciation:

Temari and the girls approved, and the guys were having fun with it. At his expense, sure, but fun nonetheless. He let out a sigh. Even if her brothers couldn’t be there, even if she was in town for work, even if he’d put it all off until the last possible moment… Temari was laughing and surrounded by friends. Was it too early to call the night a success?

Well played, Shikamaru. Best boyfriend ever, he congratulated himself with another satisfied nod and a swig of beer. “Careful unwrapping it, babe!” he called, letting out a smug chuckle after babe. He liked the sound of it.

She untied the twine holding the florist wrap together, peeled back the ruby plastic he’d so carefully arranged to spare her skin, and revealed the pretty plant he’d picked out just for her.

He swished his beer and waited for the sort of reactions all the other gifts had gotten.

But there were no girlish giggles, no excited coos. Even the legwarmers had gotten a warm reception, …but his plant couldn’t even get a cricket chirp?

And Temari… She was just staring down at the cactus, ominous in her silence. Her bangs were hiding her eyes; he couldn’t see her face.

Doesn’t she like it? he wondered nervously.

Then, all at once, static surprise gave way to dynamic reaction: Hinata fainted against Naruto with a squeak, her face beet-red. Sakura’s mouth fell open, and a The hell? slipped out. Karui was alternating between coughing up the drink she’d just inhaled…and snickering as Choji patted her back.

“Hina!” Naruto wailed, cradling his passed-out wife.

What’s happening?! Why are the girls freaking out, and why are they looking at the plant like that?? Shikamaru’s eyes narrowed as he tried to puzzle it out through the alcohol haze. Temari’s skin was turning pink! Oh, no! Was it poisonous?! He sprang up, ready to slap the offending thing out of her hands. No, wait. I would have felt it earlier, and I checked the tag!

“Tem…ari?” he tried, no hint of smugness left in his voice. Sweat was pooling between his shoulder blades.

Temari didn’t respond, still gaping down at the prickly plant.

Where the hell had Ino gone?? She’d know what was happening, and she’d tell him!

By then, Kiba had eagerly sidled up to a cherry-red Sakura for an explanation. Shouldering his wife’s limp form, Naruto hurried to follow suit.

To his left, Tenten was pink in the ears, trying and failing to stifle her giggles with her hand while Lee begged her for enlightenment.  

As he tried to shake the truth out of his teammate, Lee voiced what every male in the place was wondering: “What!”—shake—“Is!”—shake—“Happening!” Shake.

The brunette only laughed harder.

Damn it! What is it?!

Sakura, however, finally found the words to describe the indescribable. Once the breathless secret left her sniggering lips and hit their eager ears, Kiba howled, a wolf at the moon, and Naruto boomed a guffaw, nearly losing his grip on Hinata.

What? No! It was a thoughtful gift—even Ino said so!!

He felt panic welling up in the pit of his stomach as his fingers dug into the wood of the nearest table.

What. The. Hell. Everything was perfect until the girls saw the stupid cactus!

Akamaru joined Naruto and Kiba’s barks of amusement.

Et tu, Akamaru? he thought dismally.

Without a word, a glance, or a discernable emotion, …Temari grabbed the nearest beer and sank it, downing it in one go.

Oh, no.

He didn’t need to be a ninja to sense the danger in the air.

Though on opposing sides of the courtyard, Sakura and Karui gave into fits of uncontrollable mirth at the same time, well past words.

Damn it, no help there. This is bad. This is so bad!

He turned to Choji, who—judging by the tears streaming down his face—had clearly been filled in by his girlfriend. …Yet all Choji could manage was to mouth Dude! through hoots.

Some ‘best friend’ you are!

Shikamaru gritted his teeth, nerves eating away at his composure.

“Guys, come on,” he begged.

At his pitiful plea, Kiba fell to the ground, gasping and rolling in delight. Naruto, on the other hand, retained just enough self-control to recline his fainted wife safely against Akamaru…before he completely lost it and doubled over with Kiba.

“Shika—haha! …Shikamaru!” Kiba rasped out from the grass. “You-you—haha!”

Spit it out, man, jeez!

Since breathing was too much for Kiba and Naruto, Shikamaru turned to Shino, who only shook his head and shrugged, sunglasses glinting in the lantern light. Beyond desperate now, Shikamaru turned to Sai, who just smiled placidly, happy to see his friends enjoying a joke…even if it flew miles above his head.

Temari’s hands clenched into tight little fists of rage, snapping the emptied plastic cup in half.

What did I do?!

“Beautiful!” Sai cheerfully announced Ino’s return, pulling out her chair.

Shikamaru did a full 360 and finally found the person who could clue him in. Lips freshly glossed, she must have just come back from the bathroom inside.

As Ino’s blue eyes scanned the scene, all she could manage was: “What…the hell?”

“Ino—somebody—please just tell me what I did!” Shikamaru shouted, nearing his wit’s end. But his request only sent a fresh wave of hysterics through the party.

At last, Ino was by his side, yanking him to her by the ear. “Shikamaru!” she screeched in a pitch high enough to shatter both eardrums and glass. “I told you to read the descriptions on the plants, you idiot!” she hissed through clenched, white teeth.

“But it’s not poisonous, I checked!” Shikamaru defended weakly.

At that moment, another woman recovered her verbal faculties.

It was Temari, growling low and fearsome: “Shikamaru…”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

“Hanakotoba, moron! I told you some flowers have special meanings!” Ino ground out mournfully. “It says it right there on the tag.”

“Says what?!” Shikamaru demanded in a moan, drowning in trepidation.

He heard a sudden clickclickclick and dimly realized Tenten had recovered enough to start snapping photos through the giggles, forever preserving his abject horror. To her side, Lee’s complexion had changed to match the green of his dress shirt, clearly informed and clearly scandalized.

“It’s a plant! What the hell can it ‘say’ that’s so terrible?!”

It was then that Sakura regained the ability to string together a sentence: “Shikamaru, you-you gave her a—!”

Kiba’s snort from the ground, however, cut her off and sent her stumbling back into giggles.

So Kiba took it upon himself to fill in the blank, a roar of rapturous merriment:

“A sex cactus!” He choked on another howl of laughter, eyes tearing up in sheer joy, unable to believe the words as they left his mouth. “Y-you gave her a fucking sex cactus, man!” he wheezed.

Convulsions took him once more, his fists beating the blameless grass flat.

“The fuck?” Shikamaru breathed, brain backflipping in despair.

Someone must have spiked the beer, he was tripping. That was the only explanation for what he’d just witnessed.

“Damn it, Shikamaru!” Naruto yowled before joining Kiba in breathless grass-slapping. “At her birthday party, too?! She’s…she’s going to end you, bro!”

Shikamaru couldn’t take it anymore. High or not, this obviously wasn’t something he was capable of decoding! He lunged at Ino, hands grasping her shoulders like a lifeline.

“Ino, please!”

She shook her head sorrowfully. “Saboten, flowering cacti, are given as sexual gestures! Like, with that”—pointing with one hand, she squished up his cheeks in the other to wrench his head back toward Temari…and the obscene cactus—“you’re telling Temari—and anyone here with eyes and half a brain!—that you want her.”

“Whuh? Nwoh!” Even with Ino’s fingers distorting his words, he could hear the shrill of panic in them.

Ino released his face to massage her brow, wholly disappointed in his stupidity.

No longer obstructed, his voice was no less hysterical: “But that’s not a thing! How can that be a thing if only girls know about it?!”

Another reverberation of laughter.

Ino just groaned and face-palmed.

Shikamaru dared to glance back at Temari’s face, imploring. “Tema… I… I…!”

He couldn’t make the words happen. What could he say to erase a screw-up of these proportions?! They’d only been together for a few months—a few long-distance months! They hadn’t had the chance to get anywhere close to sex—they hadn’t even made out yet! Tonight had been the most physical they’d ever been!!

And I just propositioned her…for birthday sex…with a cactus…in front of half the village?!

His fingers rose to rake at his scalp, eyes widening in true realization.

“Oh,” Temari began darkly, taking a predatory step toward him, fingers tightening around the rim of the vulgar cactus’s pot, “it’s a thing, babe.”

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Oh no.

There was fury flaming in her eyes.

Oh no.

He felt his stomach fall through the earth’s crust: she picked up the indecent cactus.

Oh no!

He felt his stomach hit the earth’s core and combust: she was coming at him with the cactus.

OH NO.

This was it. He was a dead man. He was going to die a virgin…because his girlfriend was going to eviscerate him with a plant. A spiky, evil plant.

But then another thought hit him. A thought even more horrific than the obituary reading, ‘Cause of death: proposition by cactus’:

She’s going to break up with me—she’s never going to speak to me again!

Just then, Ino bravely flung herself between him and the wrath of his sex-cactus-wielding girlfriend.

“He didn’t mean anything by it, Temari! Your boyfriend’s just a moron and didn’t”—she turned to give him the full force of her glare—“read the damn tags like I told him to, so he had no idea! He just wanted to give you something pretty from Suna, you know, to be sweet. Since you had to spend your birthday away from home and all.”

Temari’s glower softened, but only slightly, the sex cactus still firmly in her grasp.

Laughing to herself, Ino continued in practiced sarcasm: “Of course, I figured he’d get you a tiny desert rose or a little echeveria. You know, something you could actually take with you after the conference.” She turned to scowl at Shikamaru again. “I mean, really. You expect her to take a cactus with her on the three-day hike back to Suna?”

Shikamaru moaned, the heat of shame was melting him into the grass. “Temari, I’m so so—“

Realizing she had accidentally fanned the flames, Ino cut him off: “I know! Why don’t you open your present from Sai and me? I can guarantee it’s better than Shikamaru’s.” She chirped out cheerfully, “Sai, darling!”

Sai materialized from the darkness, gift bag in hand, and smiled serenely.  

“Happy birthday, Temari!” he remarked and extended the bag, blissfully unaware of the murderous tension surrounding him.

Slightly stupefied, Temari lowered the x-rated cactus to the table at her side, and Shikamaru let out a quiet, shaky breath.

Ino, grab it while you can! He glanced frantically at his teammate, begging her to hear his thoughts, but she was focused on Temari.

Peering around Ino, he could see Temari raise an eyebrow.

As she accepted the proffered gift bag and parted the tissue paper, revulsion spread across her face. “Another one?!” She dropped the bag to the table with the rejected, dirty cactus in a heavy thud.

Ino, what the hell?!

“No, no…” Ino grinned, eyes twinkling gleefully back at Shikamaru. “You see, this isn’t traditional hanakotoba….”

Genius intellect or not, this was beyond Shikamaru’s understanding. How could he have foreseen any of this? All he knew was it was a miracle that he didn’t have a hundred new piercings to accent the ones in his ears. Hell, it was miraculous he still had a head on his shoulders! No... The true wonder was that Temari hadn’t shouted “We’re done!” and stormed off ages ago. He’d rather Temari skewer him with the stupid, debauched cactus and throw him on the yakitori….

Curiosity got the better of her, and Temari reached in. She slowly, gingerly retracted her hand, revealing something green and plant-y.

What is that thing?

Between Temari’s forefinger and thumb hung a frilled stalk of leaves…attached to a spiked, oblong fruit. She lifted her prize for all to see. 

Ire and mortification forgotten—perhaps replaced with utter confusion—his girl’s black-emerald eyes met Ino’s.

“And what, exactly, are you trying to say with a pineapple?”

The question was saturated in sarcasm, but Shikamaru detected the slightest hint of playfulness coloring Temari’s words. He felt his lifespan slowly extending, not even noticing as Ino attained the sweet vengeance she’d promised….

“Oh, it’s simple…. Don’t you see it?” Ino waved a dainty hand, only just able maintain her casual façade, brimming with barely suppressed anticipation. “It’s Shikamaru, of course!”

It took only a second for the joke to hit, before the outburst of obnoxious, tipsy titters echoed through the night. 

Ino nodded to herself, clearly satisfied with her delivery.

A fruit? Shikamaru thought dumbly, genius brain fogged with beer and total humiliation. She named a fruit after me?

“It-it’s perfect!” Naruto choked out from the lawn. He ripped up a handful of grass—dirt clods, roots, and all—and held it to Kiba’s head, miming...a ponytail.

Then a sidesplitting cackle rang out over the din. It was Shino, he’d finally cracked.

I am…a pineapple?

If Shikamaru had any blood left elsewhere in his circulatory system, it joined the rest in his face then.

Temari bit down on her lip, face twitching slightly. She closed one eye and slowly raised the fruit until it was perfectly parallel with her distraught boyfriend…and his pineapple-shaped head. Her teeth sunk in further. Her hand quaked, ...then her whole body.

Aliens had failed to kill Naruto, …yet Shikamaru was beginning to think the Child of Prophecy would laugh himself to death before the night was over.

“I chose a really green one, so it should be perfectly ripe by the time you have to head home,” Ino piped with yet another wink. “Figured a memento would keep you from missing him too much on the road!”

That was it. It finally happened. 

Temari laughed. 

And it wasn’t a snigger or a chuckle. Oh, no. It was a full-blown belly laugh. It bent her spine and sent the Shikafruit bouncing to the ground.

“Careful, you’re going to bruise him!” Choji roared, fueling the chorus of guffaws.

Shikamaru was too relieved to notice the embarrassment. Temari was laughing, and she couldn’t hate him if she was laughing! Hell, he’d answer to ‘Kiwi’ if that meant she’d forgive him! The corners of his lips started to turn upward.

From the corner of his eye, Shikamaru could see Lee was crying tears of youthful jubilation, and Hinata had finally awoken to Akamaru licking her face, blinking slowly.

About damn time for someone else to be the clueless one, he thought dimly.

Temari straightened halfway and wiped at her eyes, gasping out, “G-get over here, idiot!”

Shikamaru had already accepted that he had no retort, no defense. It was probably better to just get it over with, so he did as she commanded and loped over.

“Temari, I’m so sorry! I—“

She slapped him upside the head, latched onto his collar, yanked him close…and kissed him.

He had not seen that coming. He’d expected—at minimum—a bloody nose or Kamatari to join the party…. But this…

Just as he realized what was happening, just as his hands rose to cup her face, …she leaned back.

“No more plants,” she deadpanned under the catcalls, fingers tightening menacingly in his shirt, ocean-blue eyes glaring up into his.

“Never again,” he vowed in a murmur, trailing a set of knuckles down her flushed neck.

“Good!” she huffed, releasing him and swatting his hands off her skin. “Now hand me my pineapple.”

Finally, it was Shikamaru’s turn to laugh: “Yes, ma’am!”

Shaking his head, he stooped to retrieve his stand-in. Troublesome woman… he thought, placing it in her expectant hands.

He realized then that they were standing in the middle of the uproarious group—they were the literal center of attention—and he decided to give in to the liquid stupid just one more time.

“Alright,” he grumbled, face caught between a frown and a smirk, “you’re coming with me.” It’s not like I can get into any more trouble, right? I mean, I set the bar pretty damn high….

Before she knew what was happening, he had her scooped up in his arms, stupid pineapple and all. Careful to hold the hem of her dress in place, he carried his indignant girlfriend back to the abandoned armchair and sank into it.

Temari punched him in the shoulder but couldn’t keep a scowl in place…and collapsed into giggles.

“Okay, show’s over, folks! Someone cut the damn cake!” he announced, leaning one elbow against the armrest and finally allowing himself the solace of a nice face-palm. There was only so much humiliation a guy could take in one night, and he was never going to live this down—this was the stuff of legend around here!

Once she caught her breath, his girl scooted herself from his lap and up to the open armrest. Reclining against the backrest, she crossed her legs...and extended them to the opposite side, one foot dangling. 

Peeking out between his fingers, there was a mile and a half of leg stretched out before him….

NopeNopeNope! he chided. Look alive, idiot! You’re living on borrowed time as it is!

He jerked his chin up…and found her smiling wickedly down at him.

It was a devious purr: “Attaboy…”

Fear slapped his face the in the opposite direction, eyes wide and cheeks flaming.

ShitShitShit!

“Birthday girl needs some cake, I said!” he crowed to no one and everyone.

“Chill, Shikamaru,” Ino teased, already on the move. “We’re on it.”

Temari flicked his ear but draped her arm over his shoulders. “What am I going to do with you?”

Moping and mortified, Shikamaru’s right hand returned to shield his burning face, while his left slid around Temari’s waist.

Then—as if the heavens had decided to prove to Shikamaru he wasn’t the only one capable of humiliating himself that night!—Sai opened his mouth:

“Beautiful,” Sai inquired of the woman in charge of dessert, “when would you like a cactus? Perhaps there’s a hanakotoba book you c—”

“Oh, Sai…” Ino groaned, flushing crimson, and pulled his wrist.

Shikamaru allowed himself one snicker, but just one. He figured suffering through her stupid pineapple revenge had earned him that much.

“We’ll talk about this later, handsome,” Ino assured, kissing Sai’s palm. “Now let’s shut them up with sugar before some other calamity happens out here!”

Then, only a few steps closer to Karui and the cake, she grumbled, “Well, your odds are a hell of a lot better than Shikamaru’s are right now….”

“Okay!” Sai concurred agreeably.

Temari’s laughter vibrated through her body directly into his.

Yup, Shikamaru concluded, the universe definitely had it out for him….

As he tried to disappear into the cushions, he heard something interesting off to the side.    

“Hey, future hokage,” Sakura started, offering Naruto a hand off the ground. “Do you believe me now?”

The terrifying look in her seafoam eyes, the sarcasm in her voice—maybe the universe had moved on to another target, after all!

“Believe what, Sakura-chan?” Naruto squeaked out, one hand trapped in her vicelike grip, the other scratching nervously at his head.

“Wasn’t I just saying the Academy needs to teach cultural practices—like hanakotoba!—to all students, not just the future-kunoichis? Just think, we could have avoided this whole idiotic display…if”—her eyes blazed dangerously, her deathgrip tightened—“the curriculum were...corrected.”

Sheepishly, Shikamaru’s third favorite blonde gave the only response he could:

“You right.”

Against his better judgement, Shikamaru decided to run with Sakura’s reasoning, pivoting his head towards his girl with a smirk.

“See, Temari? It’s not my fa—“

Another slap upside the head cut him off. “Don’t even try, pineapple,” she scoffed.

Birthdays, women… They were all so troublesome.

...But maybe he liked a little trouble?

–

The Chunin Exams were planned, the conference was over, the sun was only just starting to rise…and Temari was standing at the village gate, about to depart for Suna.

“Guess you’re gonna tell the kazekage and Kankuro about your birthday, huh?” Shikamaru asked, hands stuffed in his pockets, absently kicking at a rock.

The days after her dinner party had gone by smoothly and without incident, but now that she was leaving….

“What, and start an international incident? Nah.” She winked. “They’re definitely getting a slice of Ino’s pineapple, though—don’t get too many of these babies in the desert!” Grinning wide, she patted the bottom of her overstuffed backpack. “Besides…” She lowered her voice, narrowed her eyes, “I’m sure they’ll hear all about your exploits soon enough on their own.” She shrugged theatrically. “Shame your present couldn’t travel, huh? Then I could’ve shown them how it all began….”

“Yeah, yeah…” Shikamaru pouted and scratched the back of his head, knowing he’d be catching shit for her birthday for the next decade or two. From Temari, from Konoha, from Suna… Hell, even from Kumo since Karui was there!

“Oh, don’t be such a baby! And speaking of my present... It better still be alive the next time I’m in town!” she snarked. “Anyways, I’ve got something to show you before I hit the road.”

She smiled that wicked smile of hers as the ascent of the morning sun cast a golden halo around her face. It made for a surreal combination….

“Tenten brought you the prints, didn’t she?” he groaned, throwing out an unimpressed hand. Why, Tenten, why?

“Sharp as ever.”

She withdrew a thick envelope from her weapons pouch and slapped the first two rectangles into his hand, one on top of the other.

“We don’t have time to go through all of them—whether you like it or not, we’re going to someday!—but these two are my favorites.”

Of course she’d organized them by favorites. No doubt, in order of how stupid he looked. Grudgingly, Shikamaru looked down. There was no point trying to avoid it, no matter how much he might have wished to forgo reliving his disgrace….

“First, we have the ‘Before.’ Like Tenten’s caption?”

Shikamaru had to smirk, he couldn’t help it. The ‘Before’ showed him grinning big with his arms wrapped securely around a pink and pouting Temari. Her tanned legs were tangled up in his blazer as she fought to escape his grip…and destroy the camera.

Beautiful, he thought, and deadly.

Underneath the photo, Tenten’s neat handwriting read:

‘Yeah, I’m the man.’

Shikamaru nodded in appreciation. He had to agree with Tenten’s assessment: he sure as hell looked the part. He slid an arm around Temari’s shoulders and leaned in to admire his handiwork. Even knowing what the next picture would show, he had to tease her: “Look what one little kiss did to you, you’re all flustered and sulky!”

Not even bothering to glare at him, she deadpanned: “You know you’re about to eat those words, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, sullen again. “I know….”

“Let’s take a look at the ‘Post-Cactus’ photo, shall we?”

Gleefully, she brought forth the monument to his eternal shame.

He wasn’t mentally prepared to look at the actual image yet, so his eyes fell on Tenten’s caption:

‘The Queen and her Pineapples’

Yup, he conceded, that sounds about right.

“So what do you think, Shikamaru?” she goaded, looking up at him so sweetly. “Personally, I think it might be Tenten’s magnum opus. I just don’t think she can top it!”

Oh, grow a pair, he scolded himself.

Grumbling and fighting off a blush, he finally looked at the image. They were in that armchair again but…

Whoa.

Temari looked like a goddess gracing a mortal with her presence. She was smiling triumphantly in the firelight, showing off her perfect teeth. Perched elegantly on the armrest, she had her long legs crossed demurely.…

Hello.

And he’d thought they’d looked good in the first photo! He was afraid she’d somehow catch him staring like a perv, so he tore his eyes away and finally faced the first jab to his ego. Temari had one hand proudly supporting that menace of a cactus in her lap. The second jab, of course, was dangling the damned pineapple above his hunched shoulder…for comparison. 

He sighed. She looked amazing…and then there was him.

He, a mere mortal, was slouched over, hiding his red face in his hand. Though only a grimace and a single eye were visible, it was more than clear he was glowering at his fruit look-alike.

He’d seen enough. He closed his eyes, shaking his head with a reluctant grin.

If I didn’t have that arm around her, I’d look one-hundred percent whipped…instead of, ya know, just ninety….

He reopened his eyes at the sound of Temari’s voice.

“I almost forgot. Tenten left a little note with the pictures,” Temari went on, voice noticeably softer.

Evidently, she’d decided she’d tortured him enough for one trip.

“Look, everyone signed it.”

She withdrew a slip of paper from the envelope and unfolded it for his eyes:

‘We’re all so sorry about the other night, Temari! We weren’t laughing at you, just at your boo! You guys are ~perfect~ together and all of us ship you so much!! Please don’t be mad. We love you. Come back soon.’

Smiling faintly, she carefully folded it up, slipped it in the envelope, and stowed it safely in her pouch.

Shikamaru rubbed her shoulder, unsure of what to say.

Even though they literally cackled at his misery…documented it in photos…and would never, ever let him forget it… He had the best friends around. 

And they’d become her friends, too.

Damn it, she’s turning me into such a sap!

As if on cue, it finally hit him:

There was no way all their friends just happened to have Temari’s birthday off! And the gifts they’d supposedly gotten or baked or whatever with one day’s notice…!

Ino and Choji… He shook his head with a grin. And probably Sakura, too.

They must have known he’d eventually get his act together and had just planned around it!

“Anyways,” Temari continued, “those two are for you to keep, but don’t worry: I have my own copies.” She snatched the pictures from his hand and slowly unzipped his vest. Slipping them into the mesh of his undershirt, she whispered, “Keep these close to your heart, babe.” She gave his chest a firm pat, clearly recalling how much she loved to torture him.

He was the least manly shade of magenta, he was sure of it. Troublesome woman…

Noting the sun’s position in the sky, she sighed, resigned, and looked away. “I have to get going.”

“Yeah, okay,” he frowned. 

One week was only enough to make him miss her. At least they’d both be in Suna at the same time next month.

“But before I go, I have a favor to ask, Shikamaru….”

Her voice had brightened, it sounded…dangerous. Her stormy-hued eyes were wide with contrived innocence, looking up at him so fondly.

Shikamaru stiffened. He knew the signs, he just didn’t know what was coming.

Temari leaned into him. Standing on pointed toes to reach his ear, as if to whisper sweet-nothings, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Kill my sex cactus,” she threatened in a honeyed coo, “and I’ll kill you.” With a firm pat on the cheek and a kiss on his lips, she turned on her heel. “Bye, boyfriend!”

As his hand rose to where hers had been, as he watched her stride off toward the desert, a chill ran down his spine. 

Damn, his girlfriend was scary.

Birthdays, man! So troublesome! ;)

🌵 Sooo this was my first time writing Temari or Shikamaru...or ShikaTema...ever! And fluff is new for me, since my default setting is dark and twisty…. I blame the sangria that 💯 fueled this marathon of a speedwrite. 🍷

🌵 I tried really hard to do them justice, and I hope this turned out okay!! If you liked it please let me know! ‘Cause that reblog / comment button is actually the “validate button.” ♥ Thank you for reading.

🌵 I hope to write a very NSFW continuation of this, also for Temari Week / Month. Let’s just say Shika manages not to kill the birthday sex cactus.... 🎂

🌵 Might continue this fic if there's interest! Beyond the smutty/fluffy Part II, mean. I do have several ideas! Might also be tempted into a possible SaiIno spinoff...?

🌵 Find my other fics on FF.net here; I write mainly SasuSaku + ItaSaku.

🍍 Shout out to @toondoon1010​, @angrypisces​, @thepiestperson for their support! Thanks, guys! ♥

–

XOXO

Endoh

🌵🍍🌵 UPDATE 11/16/18: NSFW SEQUEL COMING FOR SHIKAMARU WEEK 2019! 🌵🍍🌵

#TemariWeek #Temari #ShikaTema #Shikamaru #Fluff #Naruto #Humor #TemariMonth #TemariWeek18 #Nara #Fic #Fanfiction #EndohWrites #Crack humor #Suna #fanfic #Subaku no Temari #SaiIno #Ino #Sai #Choji #Karui #ChoKarui #Rock Lee #Shino #NaruHina #Team 10 #Kiba

[buddyhollyscurls]

blossom (do all 3), blush, bright, candlelight (or whenever your last dream was), cuddly, cutie pie, daylight, euphoric, fairy, garden, glow, jiggly, kisses, prince, princess, rainbow, starlight, soft, toot, whiffle, wispy (sorry there were just so many questions i liked!!!)

MY DEAREST DIANA U ARE AN ABSOLUTE TREASURE THANK YOU SO MUCH

blossom; favorite book/movie/song?:

favorite book: the pigman series by paul zindel, because of romek by david faber, and the catcher in the rye by jd salinger 

favorite movie: life is beautiful, la strada, coco 

favorite song: ironia by mana, back to black by amy winehouse, i’ve been good to you by the miracles 

blush; what was your stuffed animal as a child?: when i was about 12? or so my brother got me and my sister a gift card for build a bear workshop lol i got a bunny i named babz she has on a purple sweat suit. i kept the box and her birth certificate but my niece messed them up and lost her jacket when she was a baby :( but i still have babz she sits on my vanity in my room i don’t think i’ll ever be able to give her up. 

bright; mermaids or fairies?: definitely faires i hope to be a fairy in my next life preferably a forest one who is able to make plants grow

candlelight; what did you dream about last night?: the last dream i REMEMBER had something to do with my trying to prevent death?? IDK BLAME GOBLIN I HAD JUST FINISHED WATCHING IT AND IT WAS SERIOUSLY AFFECTED THAT SHOW FUCKED ME UP 

cuddly; what’s your favorite time period?: the 60s have always held a huge fascination for me. like i remember i used to love February bc that was when we would talk about the civil rights movement and stuff and through that i remember being like 12 and seeing documentaries about the black panthers and woodstock. 

most precious item you own: i have a lot of those babz is one, i’m a very sentimental person i have a hello kitty box filled with pics friends have given me i have a Berenstain bears book i once put in a time capsule with my sister and brother that we had to dig up super early bc we moved ummm i still have cards and stuff friends have given me one is even from my tenth birthday, drawings my niece has made me, a shoebox full of journals i’ve filled up things like that i feel if i made them or if someone gave them to me they’re super precious. my book and movies as well.

favorite album of all time: tie between back to black or stg peppers 

talk about someone u love: i’m going to talk about my nieces and nephews rn bc i love them so much: adelie is the oldest she’s ten and my favorite person in the whole world. when she was born i took care of her a lot even stopped going to school for about a year so my sister could go and we got so close bc of that she is just so funny and silly and loving i hate that my girl has to grow up i want her to be little forever. next is my nephew Malcolm he’s so energetic and he plays a bit too rough with adelie and his brother and sister but he’s a great big brother he looks out for them and he and adelie get along super well. nicole is next she is an actual angel she is the sweetest girl in this entire planet she is so nurturing and she is super helpful and gentle. and finally my nephew diego. he’s three and the exact clone of my brother i even have this ig post of a side by side photo from when my brother was little they’re wearing red shirts and i stg they even have the same smile. my little man is so cute. when he was born it took a little while for him to warm up to us bc we don’t get the chance to see him as much as we did when adelie was born. but now its a complete 180 sometimes i’ll be walking and he’ll just run up and give me a hug and it makes my heart soar 

fairy; do you have a pet?: sadly i don’t haha i want to have a senior cat or senior dog but that’ll have to wait until i get my own place. hopefully whenever i get into something called a serious relationship we can get a puppy together and raise it together but who knows when that’ll come i don’t want a puppy until then tho

garden; how many languages do you know?: outside english i know spanish and a tiny bit of italian and portuguese just barely tho lol not enough to have a conversation but i can probably pick up a few sentences i want to learn italian portuguese french (that one is SUPER HARD THO FRENCH WTF) and maybe arabic 

glow; list the top 5 things you like about yourself

1: ppl tell me i’m funny

2. i’m really honest 

3. i’m tenacious 

4. i’m very empathetic 

5. for the most part i’m a postive person i’m one of those ppl that are just everyone’s personal cheerleader 

jiggly; what do you usually like to do on weekends?: watch movies lmaoooo this weekend alone i saw train to busan, silenced, see you tomorrow, this is not what i expected, turn left turn right, and lust caution. i don’t see movies during the week (during school anyway) so usually all week i try to be like what am i watching this weekend. it’s very rare i willingly make plans over the weekend we can hang out during the week but weekends are for movies.

kisses; what romantic cliché do you wish for most?: i am a romantic sap lol i am the cheesiest person i know but for some reason i’m not into cliches i guess like hmmm i guess for me the one i want most is to fall in love with my best friend. like i meet someone and we just click and they make me do the chris evans laugh A LOTand i’m able to open up and just talk with them and gradually one day its like oh snap. so this is the person i’m supposed to be with. tight. 

prince; how would you describe your handwriting?: atrocious. sometimes i can’t even read what i just wrote. but i hear ugly handwriting is a sign of high intelligence so theres that lmaooo. 

princess; do you play any instruments? if not, are there any you wish you could play?: uuuuhhh i don’t :((((((((( if i could i wish i could play guitar (i only know a few chords) drums, piano, bass, even the sitar ok brian and george made it look sick af 

rainbow; what was the last line of the last book you read?: “For the first time ever, I think Haddock may have a point, you know.” my mad fat diary by rae earl (if u haven’t seen the show i highly rec it it’s one of my fave ever just a side note)

starlight; what was your favourite show as a child?: hey arnold ok don’t even get me started on it i’ll talk forever how great it is even now its just timeless even adults should watch it and i’ve said this before and i’ll say it a million more times helga g pataki is probably one of the most complex, interesting, well written female character EVER on any show i owe craig bartlett my entire life. 

soft; describe your favourite spot in your house: the dining room its huge and its got big windows i love looking out windows so when i write i like sitting at the table to look out every now and then sometimes i’ll just look out that window when i wake up and be like damn its a new day. 

toot; what is something you find unique about yourself?: hmmm…. i guess how idealistic i am. and how intense i feel about things. when i was a kid i thought everyone had strong feelings about something and just LOVED things all the time but getting older i realize being passionate about things esp things like books and tv and movies is really………. odd haha. like even now i will type paragraphs about a favorite movie or something that happened in a show and my friends will be like why are u like this. the same goes with how idealistic i am like thought it was normal to have so many things u want to do and see in the world but when i talk to my friends theyre like oh i just never thought about doing that so it makes me feel odd sometimes bc i know i expecet a lot out of life hahahaha. 

whiffle; if you could have a magical power, what would it be?: either flight or invisibility 

wispy; do you like the place where you grew up? do you think you will live there when you get older?: i LOVE san diego and i LOVE california (in spite of how damn expensive it is here) but even when i was little i didn’t see myself living here as an adult with a family. i just always felt like this world is so big why live in one place your whole life. one day i want to live somewhere green and have my farm with my little animals and soccer team of kids haha. like linda and paul mccartney. 

#diana thank you sm for this #these answers are super long #so i'm sorry #lmaoo #but you're a treasure #britneyshakespeare

[frozs]

I only have twelve bullets, and you’re all gonna have to share: Chapter 1/4

Summary:

Hidan and Rock Lee race around the world trying to find Orochimaru, the dickhead who made Hidan immortal. Deadpool inspired fic.

Warnings: Swearing and shit, Hidan x Ino (Is that even a warning? idk) 

Word Count: 3, 527 

@syndellwins​

“For peace, and silence, we have our sacrifices that make Konoha, and the rest of the world yearn for peace…”

All Hidan could hear was: blah blah. blah, blah blah.

(Blah blah).

“For The Will of Fire, amen.”

Everyone said amen at once, except for Hidan, who wasn’t paying attention. His girlfriend, Ino, was sobbing quietly into a polka dot handkerchief next to him. Hidan had only turned up because Ino demanded he pay respects to her father, who’d lost his life during The Fourth World War. He’d been in the intelligence division, and although he didn’t like Hidan very much, Inochi supported their “relationship” - if you could call it a relationship. It definitely wasn’t a normal relationship.

Inopig - Ino’s pet miniature pig - was sitting on a cushion next to Ino, whose handkerchief matched the frilly vest she’d dressed the little creature in. On Hidan’s side was probably some other blonde haired, blue eyed Yamanaka who looked at him accusingly as if he shouldn’t be there.

Ino had said that Hidan should come along to the memorial service, especially because it was religious, and told him to pay his fucking respects as he was a good little god-fearing twit, wasn’t he?

Ino and Hidan were both snarky fuckers who somehow managed to make their relationship work in a war zone. The Yamanakas played a large part in the war, in the area of intelligence-gathering and interrogation. Ino was promoted to head of interrogation after the enemy blew up HQ, and quickly she and Hidan became a close-knit team; she as the interrogator, and he the torturer.

They had mostly argumentative hate sex in the secluded dugout where nobody went - once even someone got shot and died just as they finished. Ino had pushed away, saying that was disgusting. Hidan had paid more attention to the blood splatter on his face while Ino grumbled about getting brains and half an eyebrow on her skirt before they went back to work. Sai came to announce that they’d captured a Kumo spy, so Hidan went to rip their fingernails off with pliers while Ino calmly spoke to them, trying to extract information about the Raikage’s whereabouts, all while giving them a good look at her cleavage.

Hidan had been staring at Ino’s leg for the last few minutes, thinking about the amount of sacrifices he had made to Jashin during the war. Was it eighty-five, or eighty-six sacrifices?

It was definitely eighty-six, said the little fucked up voice named Jashin in his head. Ino elbowed him in the ribs, so he stopped and pretended to pay attention to the long list of names of those who sacrificed their lives for the Fire, Wind, River and Steam countries to ensure peace in the world.

He left the shitty temple with its shitty wooden pews before the shitty people attempted to have an even shittier conversation with him. He was regarded as batshit insane compared to the rest of the folk in Konoha. He was the only person in the world who was pissed the war was over. Hidan was a soldier, not a civilian, and he was not interested in the sissy civilian life of working at a supermarket scanning tampons at eleven o’clock at night - something which might even happen if he continued to be broke and acted like he was talking to some crazy fucker in his head named Jashin all the time.

There was a military parade in the afternoon following the memorial service, showcasing the surviving Konoha, River and Suna soldiers doing the goose step. They looked strong and serious, chins up with rifles to their left side and headbands showing their alliances. Floats with papier mache animals moved their eyes forward and back, as people used rods to move the hands up and down as if they were waving. A marching band played in front of the parade. He recognised the song they were playing, Soldiers of The Old Home Guard, while the leaders of Konoha and Suna, the Hokage and the Kazekage, waved from their seats politely, opposite Hidan and the crowd of mostly women and children clapping and cheering. They didn’t even ask Hidan to participate as the only remaining Yugakure soldier left.

He could figure out why he hadn’t been invited to join in. The nickname Hidan of Hot Water stuck, because of his foul temper, and it was almost as though steam came out of his ears when he was shouting. Not to mention he was from a tourist resort, not a military state. Sometimes he wouldn’t have minded putting his bayonet into asshole Konoha soldiers who smirked when he muttered his prayers at nightfall by the glow of a matchstick (they’d taken his fucking candles) who said that their religion, The Will of Fire, was the correct and only religion that mattered. Hidan tried to argue that it wasn’t a religion, it was more of a tradition, but nobody cared.

Burnt out crates littered Konoha like strays, as nobody had got rid of them yet. Blackened buildings were a common sight. The smell of dirt permeated the air as people’s shoes scuffed up the dirt, making the ground look like brown fog. He could see the parade bringing in more floats of Mount Myoboku, the legendary One Tail and including one that was marked WILL OF FIRE with people handing out pamphlets.

Hidan took one anyway. Be Loyal To Your Country, it read. “Fucking patriotism at its worst,” he mumbled. “Ow!”

Inopig bit Hidan’s ankle and snarled at him. Well, as much of a snarl as a pig the size of a piggy bank could muster. A few people looked around in surprise.

Hidan snarled back - that pig fucking hated him, and he returned the feeling. “What do you want?” he snapped. Usually Inopig had a reason to be following him around, usually outside the interrogation room while he was having a break after slowly pushing pencils into people’s ears while they screamed in glorious agony. He spotted on Inopig’s collar a note shoved between the skin and the ugly jeweled band covering her fat neck.

“Don’t bite - for fucks sake - ow!” Hidan managed to get the note off Inopig before she pushed her snout into his hand to bite him a second time. Pulling himself onto a nearby bench so that Inopig wouldn’t try to attack him again, he read, in Ino’s neat handwriting, Hidan get your ass over here right now, someone’s been looking for you! on ornate Yamanaka Flowers Stationery.

He followed Inopig through the narrow rubble-covered streets of Konoha, ignoring the stares, currently from a mix of Suna and Konoha folk with banners and rifles. Konoha was slowly getting back on its feet after a more than a year of war against the neighbouring large countries. As Inopig and Hidan approached Yamanaka Flowers, he realised there were now little chairs outside with umbrellas over them, and the blackboard a-sign announced new stock: candles, keyrings, vegan treats, stationery sets in store now!

“Oi! Angel of the Morning. You sell candles and vegan shit now?” Hidan said loudly, entering Yamanaka Flowers. Ino didn’t look up, until he reached up where the top lock was on the door and dinged the bell loudly several times with his finger. Ding ding.

Ding.

Dingdingdingdingding-

“I can hear you, shut up,” Ino said, turning around and crossing her arms. Inopig trotted to her owner, who patted her on the head and gave the pig a treat. Inopig squealed in delight, then plonked down on the cushion she usually occupied in the shop corner. Her beady eyes remained on Hidan, who glowered back.

“Can’t you send a carrier pigeon next time, jeez? My poor ankle.” Hidan pulled up a camouflaged leg to show a dark red mark. He didn’t seem to have a spare change of clothes that weren’t the Yugakure military uniform.

“Hmm…” Ino put a finger to her lips and looked up at the ceiling. She spend a few seconds pretending to actually reconsider using a carrier pigeon instead of Inopig to send messages.

“Well?” asked Hidan impatiently.

She smiled. “No.”

Figures. Hidan pretended to look interested in the new stock shelf which had been decorated with plastic orchids.

“What do you want?” Hidan wasn’t even going to try and be nice. Ino knew Jashin came first, and she came a very, very distant second in Hidan’s life. “Is someone pissed at me again?”

“Someone asked me to hand this to you,” said Ino, tapping her finger at a piece of paper while she balanced flower stalks on those metal spike things so they held up on display - Hidan forgot what they were called. “It’s like a Jashin meeting, or something?”

He perked up at the word Jashin.

“Really?” He stalked over and swiped up the paper. It was on pale blue card, typed out neatly, informing that there was a Way of Jashin meeting tomorrow, at the local temple that had held the memorial service this morning. “There must be a Lord Jashin follower around here. Like for fuck’s sake, I thought I was the only one.” He pulled his hair back, cherishing the card as if it was his firstborn.

His heart - his cold dead heart - as Ino called it, felt happy, instead of moody and shitty since the war was over. Ino shrugged. She had no interest in Jashin, and she was up-front about it. One of her hobbies was intentionally pissing Hidan off about it for fun.

“You better go then, see what other freaks will be there who also like taking pleasure in the suffering of others.”

“I think I will,” Hidan put the blue card and put it in his back pocket, “Might find myself a hot Jashinist girl, and we can go sacrificing some lambs together.”

“How romantic,” Ino remarked, with more than a hint of sarcasm. She had finished putting the stalks on the spikes, and was placing them carefully in vases for the front shop window. Inopig had stretched her trotters out and was now snoring loudly.

“I better prepare,” said Hidan, and he waved as he walked out the shop. “See you, bitch.”

“Bye, dickhead.”

In retrospect, he really should have realised something was up, because Jashin followers were almost nonexistent. He knew of several, but they weren’t soldiers - they owned butcher shops, mostly, but spent their night sacrificing lambs in caves and carving the circle-triangle symbol into their chests while screaming in glorious Jashin-filled agony.

Hidan ignored the parade on the way back, which had almost finished up by the time he had crossed the main streets to get back to his hotel. Ino’s mother refused to let him stay in the Yamanaka apartment after Ino mentioned that her boyfriend was a Jashin follower and that they were also pretty mean to each other on purpose. The foreign soldiers were currently staying at the hotel. River and Suna soldiers were just about to get out a pack of cards to play in the lobby after their bit in the parade had finished. They whispered when he approached, gossiping about his exploits during the war.

“Eighty-three hits? Wow.”

“Yeah, but he’s mental. He’s always going on about his delusional God.”

“Jashinists are weird as fuck. Just ignore him.”

He turned around to the Suna moron who had been polishing his headband. “It’s eighty-six confirmed hits, dickhead.”

He then spent the next twenty-four hours studying his scripture, as if he didn’t know it off by heart already. But there was always something new to be found in it, and he had sent off for a copy of the old testamental version through mail order to be delivered to his hotel room. Inopig didn’t come back with any more messages from Ino, so he stayed in his room. He used an old maths compass needle to re-carve his Jashin symbol into his chest, and then two onto the underside of his feet, which represented the earth he would walk on and its sacrifices made for him. Walking through the pain - literally - made him feel closer to God.

At six o’clock the next day, he dodged the crowds of happy veterans all fattening themselves up with ramen and yakitori. He recognised a few faces, such as Sai, who also worked in Intelligence with them, and Shikamaru, an old friend of Ino’s. Sai had that horrible smile on his stupid face again and Shikamaru raised his eyebrow only a tiny bit in acknowledgement when Hidan strolled past.

Can’t believe there’s a fucking Jashin meeting in this temple.

The temple, with its Konoha flags falling down from the ceilings, and polished wooden pews and floor, was empty. The lights were on, but no Jashin symbols… no nothing.

Feeling a bit pissed off, Hidan turned from the room to leave. Then the door slammed, and he hit the floor.

Now he knew he wasn’t here for any Jashinist meeting.

*

Feeling groggy as fuck (the only way he could describe it) and feeling as if someone had dumped him in a pool of anaesthetic, Hidan woke. His first thought was that he had been gassed with Zyklon B. Eyes blurry, head hurting and feeling as if his brain was sloshing around in his skull, his retinas burned as he squinted up at the blurred figures in front of him. He realised they were calling his name. He tried to answer but stopped when he saw who they were. He didn’t recognise them, but he knew the colours.

Two men dressed in Konoha flak jackets were smiling down at him. One of them had a white lab coat over the dark green uniform. Hidan was tied down with rope, sitting propped up with his arms pulled out in front of him like a doll. He could see red pinpricks on them. He was reminded of the children’s game heads down, thumbs up, except this was a much, much more gruesome version of it.

They definitely weren’t here for a Lord Jashin meeting.

“Fuck off, what the hell?! Is this revenge for accidentally putting those Fire country cunts in the gas chamber?!” A pale man with long black hair smiled and his tongue flicked out. It was long. It was even forked like a snake. Gross.

“I knew he was going to be hard to handle,” said the man with the ponytail and glasses. “After all this time, he’s finally woken up.”

“I am Orochimaru. My subordinate is very sorry for gassing you,” said Snake Man, not sounding very sorry at all, but looking down at Hidan’s body with interest. “Kabuto, give me the syringe.”

“What are you fucking doing, fucking nerd?!” Fucking Nerd’s white laboratory coat made him look s if he was going to give a speech on body creams in some CGI skin rejuvenation clinic. A syringe full of red liquid was produced from somewhere, and Hidan couldn’t move. Orochimaru jabbed the syringe into a vein in his arm. The liquid was blinding hot. Almost like he had thrown his arm into a hot spring back home, but hey, he had a high pain tolerance.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Hidan decided on a more nicer and less-sweary approach find out why these two weirdos from Konoha had kidnapped him and tied him up, which was upsetting because it wasn’t Ino doing it, and also put drugs and shit into his system.

“Well, put it this way, I’m going activate a few genes. You are Hidan of Hot Water, the only living soldier from Steam Country.” said Kabuto. “And we have been watching… certain soldiers. During the war. Eighty-eight confirmed kills. Nice.”

“Eighty-six, godless moron.” Why can anyone get it right?

“Out of everyone in the war, you were probably the bravest - yet you didn’t even receive the Kage Cross. You threw yourself into bombs, catching grenades - it’s like you wanted to die.”

“But then I got transferred to torture so that shit stopped,” said Hidan. “Why are you interested in me?”

“What if I told you we are all in a Infinite Tsukuyomi?” Orochimaru suddenly said, putting a long finger on the skin where he had just injected the liquid. Hidan’s blood seeped slowly underneath his finger, and he kept it there instead of getting a cotton ball or whatever the hell creepy Orochimaru had in his creepy room. It was dark, only lit by several candles, so Hidan had no idea where they were.

“Infinite Fucking What?”

Orochimaru sighed.

“This world is an illusion, Hidan.”

Hidan shook his head, strands of silver-purple hair falling over his eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

“It is,” said Kabuto, aka The Fucking Nerd. “Originally, we were all ninjas.”

Hidan gawked. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

Orochimaru and Kabuto raised their eyebrows as Hidan laughed, “Ninjas? Like those old assassins with the swords that stabbed themselves in the stomach when they got sad and shit? Let me go, freaks. I have better things to do then become a meth head.”

“During the Fourth Shinobi War, we were all placed in an illusion. My subordinate and I have figured out how to regain our original powers, but not our memories. My test subjects can do things like walk on water, become water. They can make things explode with only a few hand signals, and even create clones of themselves. They can become stronger than anyone else just by lifting a finger.”

“That’s nice,” Hidan said, not paying attention to them, but rather, seeing if he could somehow get himself out of the ropes. “Let me go, Snake Man.”

“We are bringing your powers back,” said Orochimaru. “We’ve done a lot of work while you were unconscious. Have a good look at yourself.”

Kabuto produced a small mirror from his lab coat, and Hidan had to now “take a good look at himself.”

His hair had grown at least an inch, and his eyes were crazy bloodshot. But that wasn’t what he cared about. The Jashin symbol - the infamous triangle in a circle - which he re-carved religiously into his chest once a week so it would never, ever heal - was gone. It had been a part of him since he was a teenager, since he’d crushed those bird eggs as part of his first sacrifice. The symbol had grown bigger and deeper over the years.

“How long has it been?”

“We knocked you out for a month, while we administered what we needed,” said Orochimaru. “In your real life - that is, the one where the Infinite Tsukuyomi doesn’t exist - you were definitely a ninja, although we do not know what powers you possessed, except for your healing powers and ability to not die.”

That is the true way of Jashin, the voice suddenly said in Hidan’s head. He perked up. Immortality. He knew that at the end of his life he would have been granted a spot by Jashin’s throne, the Death God of the Underworld, who watched over hell.

Wait.

“A month!?” he suddenly squawked. Ino would definitely think I’ve gone off with the rest of the people from that fake Jashin meeting…

“However,” Orochimaru flashed a smile. “I’d like to keep you. Usually those whom I have dealt with work for me afterwards. I think you’d be better off working for me. I myself am not immortal. Although I have the powers from our real world, I do not have what you have. I’m a little jealous, Jashin-boy.”

At this, Hidan realised that it wasn’t quiet in the room. Kabuto and Orochimaru now turned away, writing down notes on their clipboards and mumbling medical jargon Hidan didn’t understand. They said words like hemoglobin and thrombosis and platelet while Hidan listened in silence.

In the distance, he heard the screams of other people. A few minutes later, Kabuto pulled him up by the ropes, and pushed him out the door.

The torturer now being tortured. Fucking great. Candles lit the hallway, which meant that wherever they were in the world electricity hadn’t been restored yet. They passed cells of people, many of them with various muted colours covering their skin. Every single one of them had a mutation - wings out of one shoulder, bones covering their faces - and each was as ugly as the next one. The smell of death lingered when Kabuto shoved him into a small cell with nobody else in it.

For the next few days, every hour, on the hour (they forgot to take away his watch, turns out) they would come in with a syringe, or beat the shit out of him.

“You forgot I get off on that stuff,” he said as they slapped him, cut his arm away and watched it regrow. It hurt, but there was a high threshold of pain Hidan could take, and now everything felt numb and different to what he normally felt like. Watching a baby hand come out of his normal arm was a truly bizarre experience.

One day, being sedated after punching a guard with shark teeth in the face (whose face turned to water), Orochimaru cut his head off.

#twelve bullets #hidan x ino #hidan #naruto fic #my fic

[chwpromoblog]

BECKETT GUERRERO. college junior; twenty. alberto rosende. OPEN.

and, as bonnie hyper once said:

“Some of these football dicks make their girlfriends come and watch them practice as if it’s interesting.”

BEFORE THE PARTY;

There’s a more obvious line to draw in Beckett’s life — one that delineates before and after — but instead, he’s chopped up into different pieces: before and after the fire. He thought he was normal; he hadn’t even realized his parents found him strange and had no idea what to do with him. He thought he was safe; he had no idea how much malice children could hold in their hearts. This before and after is more poignant and fitting to him, if only because he truly doesn’t remember any piece of his life before he was burned. Well, there is one thing: that morning, he chopped his hair off into an uneven, prickly mess and headed to school in some other bumfuck town in Illinois that wasn’t Rosewood. He’d begged his parents to buy him new clothes just for the occasion. It was meant to be a good day. But the kids at school had other ideas.

At first, he thought the match was a joke. To an extent, the other kids probably did too; they’d just wanted to burn his clothes, but that wasn’t how fire worked. It consumed everything in it’s wake. It wasn’t choosy. So, by the time someone had managed to extinguish the flames, Beckett had fully come into himself, but he had also come into a broken, burnt body. It was odd, to be christened by fire. It didn’t change how he felt; it didn’t eliminate the fact that he’d spent so much time insisting, time and time again, that he wasn’t a girl. It just made being himself that much harder.

The therapists tried to draw out memories from before for a while, but there was a block so impressive in Beckett’s brain. He only wished to speak about the present, informing everyone within earshot of his new name and the truthful life he was meant to lead. It was the only thing he could talk about to keep him from focusing entirely on his reality.

He’d already been so uncomfortable with what he’d been born with, but now he was hideous, his skin patchy and raw and revealing all of the damage he always knew was there for everyone to see. His parents tried to appease him, though they still didn’t quite understand what was going on in his head. He was constantly downtrodden, though, and any good parents would have wanted to help him. And so they attempted, spending exorbitant amounts of cash on experimental procedures to alleviate the ugliness. When that didn’t work, they gave into his pleas to be home-schooled, and, eventually, allowed him to transition fully.

Yet, he went back into the world in his sophomore year of high school feeling anything but improved. He was insecure as ever, hiding under layers of too big clothing. It was easy to keep people from whispering about him; he was at boarding school in a new town where no one knew anything about the boy who’d burned because he’d chosen to be himself.

He kept a considerable distance between himself and the other guys, quietly reading in the corner whenever he needed something to do. Once, a couple of boys from the grade beneath him approached him and insisted that he was just what they needed — that they were different and hated Welton too. They wanted to read the great poets and aim to be extraordinary. But he insisted that he wasn’t like them, that he didn’t hate Welton. And he didn’t. He didn’t really hate anything or anyone. Not even the people who had completely changed the fabric of his life all those years ago. He was just floating above them all, too in his own head to even spend time thinking about other people. That self-absorption had become pure self-deprecation as he nitpicked at himself and all the imperfections he hid.

He hadn’t meant to meet the others, but he knew that the Welton guys wandered out of the dorms at night and hung out at the halfway point between their school and St. Agnes, the school across the way. He’d wanted to get away from the mirror for once — he’d called his parents and for once, they’d refused to pay for surgery, though he insisted that there was fat he needed to suck out from underneath his bones. He was alone when they approached him, and the haze from the beers he’d grabbed from the pile the Welton boys collected had given them a luminous glow. It was Nadine who asked him why he was isolating himself — Nadine, who was inarguably and almost frighteningly gorgeous over the sickness he would later find she held underneath. Her beauty compelled him to answer: he just didn’t want to be with anyone. But they sat with him anyway. And so began a very strange friendship.

They all had their ailments. This much he would come to know. He wasn’t sure why they kept him around, really; it was obvious that he wasn’t entirely honest with them. Sure, he’d told them he was transgender, but that wasn’t really what he was looking to hide. It was the burns. Even in the depths of summer, he wore sweaters by the pool as Reed swam laps and Nadine and Saskia tanned on lawn chairs and flipped through magazines. But they didn’t pester him about it. He was just their quiet, naive Beckett, never quite forthcoming but always ready with comforting words or a small smile — things he never got from anyone other than his parents until he met them. They had this tenuous connection that relied on the fact that they were all outsiders in their own ways — the why didn’t really matter.

So, of course, the revelation of his secret hadn’t been of his own volition. For some reason, Nadine had been sneaking through the Welton showers when she saw him. Later, he would come to understand that she had deliberately sought his secret shame out. But then, Nadine had coddled him and assured him that his burns were nothing to be ashamed of. Being who she was, she promised that she had her ways — that he could be fixed. By graduation, Beckett had made nice with Nadine’s plastic surgeon on several occasions, and all on his so-called best friend’s dime. It wouldn’t ever be enough, but that was the point. His parents called it an addiction. He insisted it was a necessity.

Saskia swore she was a little more clear-headed than he and Reed, who were easily manipulated by Nadine. She’d spent their college years trying to convince them that Nadine was bad news — all the while remaining friends with her, if only to keep a close eye. Even so, she didn’t know the extent of everything, and she had her own issues with Nadine to contend with. She had no idea how she made Beckett yearn for perfection he couldn’t have and made Reed so angry that she couldn’t feel anything else. Neither of them felt comfortable telling Saskia, who had her own vicious streak. So they turned to each other.

They couldn’t stop being Nadine’s puppets — they were inexplicably drawn to her and what she had to offer, whether they liked it or not — but they could make sure that she wasn’t the only one who knew the most important things about themselves. Beckett showed her his scars — from the burns and the surgeries. Reed shared her emotional ones, her insecurities about who she was and how others preyed on it. They loved each other, he knew. But Nadine was obsessive. She was territorial. And she couldn’t just let them be.

DURING THE PARTY;

Every nerve of his was vibrating with anxiety at the thought of finally going on a date with Reed. They'd waited, bided their time, until things had quieted down and they felt Nadine's grasp on them loosen. His body image had improved considerably, and Reed had snapped back to her senses. This was good. They could be good.

Beckett had never been as outwardly pessimistic as Reed, but she provided him with some stiff competition. He managed to feel himself inherit some of her pessimism when his phone vibrated with a text as he was getting ready in a frenzy, his shaky hands unable to properly tie a bowtie.

Laurel is missing.

He had to convince her not to go to Nadine's alone. He had to keep her from scratching the girl's eyes out. For how well Reed had been doing for all this time, it crumbled in an instant, as if the universe was set against them for the entirety of their lives.

When Saskia finally arrived, Beckett took it as an opportunity to grab Reed by the hand and pull her into himself. He couldn't solve this problem for her, but he could do better. He'd always been the most gullible of them all, and so she shoved what little pity he had for Nadine away. If Reed said she did it, she did it.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. It was a shitty moment to say it for the first time, but Reed needed to hear it. And he needed to hear himself say it. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

alternate faceclaims and prompts.

#alberto rosende #roleplay #rpg #rp #bio rp #original rp

[brothalynchhung]

2017 overview

FOR FUCKS SAKEEE IVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR 5 YEARS LMFAOOOO anyways lets goo... this gone be a lot i learned a lot this year

the year started out...

kinda weird tbh like i was in a weird state

i was back to being obsessed following jk/gl lool

it was nice but i got to hopelessly obsessed

but they came back and it really motivated me it made me happy

hes so comforting until this day

he earned so much!! achieved so much! I'm so happy for him

i gained a lot this year too .. in a way

yeah 2017 was weird introspectively...

lot of internal rebuilding...

i did video 1 which was fun i got to make some cool shit and work hard on projects

i met my girl xy lol her talented ass

ate out a lot tbh i was a fatass beginning of 2017 wtf

still am tho wtf who am i kidding 🙄🙄🙄

jus classes with z as usual but winter 2017 was so weird cuz like.. i barely went to any of those classes LOL

video 1 was fun

adv com theories was ass idk how i got a B+ in that class i failed everything LMFAOO

phi was whatever

women and media was weird cuz of that weird girl but we got a good mark so whatever

quantitative LMFAOOO fuck that class and that bitch ass prof i didnt learn shit

other than that personally...i was going through some mental shit.. i felt alone. i felt out of it. i felt regretful

i felt so regretful i felt like shit

i fell into such a nostalgic moment like i just missed everything

jk kinda reminded me of like.. how i was? happy? in 2016 i kinda of left everything and secluded myself in a weird way other than fighting with ayt/mh on some bullshit i just was out of it.. i was chilling with weirdos lol

i was thinking like.. i miss how it is??? I'm not that different? i like all the people from my past why are we not that close

spring day came out.. that hit it. bullseye. 

childish gambinooo....

just really looking back, looking back on who i AM who I WANT to be truly. who i really want to be around and create

i valued my friendships

i was super creative... working on my book, investing in artistic pursuits.. 

i wanted to recreate everything i lost, i wanted to reclaim my trauma with that bitch.

i got to spend fun times with my friends, running around train tracks becoming closer again like how it should have been all along

jk had me looking forward to leaving to dubai

and so i did. 

i tried chasing him there but it didnt really work out

its not really meant to be sr...

he's just an inspiration for what you want and for who u are

the whole groups a blessing lol

even tho i left that shit cuz it got too much and too weird why bitches gotta make shit mediocre🙄

anyways dubai was kinda ass but i got to realize something important... who i miss, who i wanted/wished were with me, who actually cares about me..

WHO ACTUALLY CARES ABOUT ME

yo sr... if someone really cares.. they'll take the effort. STOP chasing people who don't care.. STOP damaging yourself and the people who love u for people who don't give a fuck

i dropped that bitch so hard i hope she fucking rots in hell

2017 . APRIL 2017 LAST TIME EVER I WILL EVER SEE THIS BITCH. NEVER AGAIN.

my life got so much better.

dubai was a detox but after i came back it was so good

hot as fuck

ramadan lol

fat as fuck -_-

dubai was just weird lol kinda realized its not my place but it was nice(ish)

need to learn not to rely so much on material shit lol

my family is the best

they really tryna teach u and care for u, u will never have another family.

also met nr!!! she was sweet kinda weird tho lMAO the cat shit jesus lol 

misk lol

WENT TO LONDON IT WAS AMAZING I LOVED IT

but fuck... lmao u know what the fuck u did yesterday -_- u DUMB bitch lmao who cares tho (...>_>)

came back... greeted by my friends who care 

chilled with them, adventures with them

but came back.. sorry. sorry to myself. sorry to the people i hurt

ayt, mh

i was thinking about it since winter i knew i had to make it right again, i knew i was wrong, that fucking bitch fucked shit up for us, we could have had so much memories in 2016 if shit didnt go sour

i gave the wrong person another chance they didnt deserve

so i reflected.. and swallowed my fucking pride

apologized. to who i needed to

and u know what? we good. like it was never bad. we good

...thats real. no flop shit, no fake shit, we good. loyalty. blessed.

u really gave the wrong bitch another chance u real did

stupid ass

then it was good.. adventures with my friends, rebuilding, forgetting, growing

together.

beach!! hiking!! badminton in the middle of the streets singing backstreet boys!! lol music!! 

KENDRICK LAMARRR

i made friends w ht again amazing lol

really remade friends w a lot of people lol

kendrick was so good tho fuck he was amazing my eyes were tearing/shining i cried like 5 times LOVE.. PRIDE. fuck those got to me

my ass saw get low live?? by YG fuck i love him too 

best night

amusement parks x3.. lol mtl with my fams..

yo me and lina got so close

i love my family. always.

NTCCCLMAOOOO 

they gave me so much hope after i dropped stb cuz or their weird ass fandom.. i couldn't deal with that shit they're ruining my damn nostalgia. but whatever I'm not gon hate on their success.. jk is still jk to me i hope he reaches the stars with his success

but yeah damn ntc made everything sooo good damn how u not have 1 dime but like 8 LMAO in one group

literally lights of my lifeee

jn😤jh😤hc🍅😩m😤jn😭jm😭WTF BITCH so much possibilities tf

love them they made me so happy

also their fandom is so funnny love the bitches i been following and talking to

anyways i saved up my money a lot but now its like all gone cuz nadas work so idk

UHMMMM I BOUGHT MMM??? WTF BITCH WTF

I WIN IDC I WIN fuck all these bitches

glow up glow the FUCK up

lost a lil weight.. probably gained it all back idk fuck me -.-

since fall 2017.. i been happy.. i got my friends..my groups..

rm, mc, ys💘 

nz,suz,lul,mar💖

prgl,sr,joan💞

hct!

nm💗

ayt

zainb,rame

xiny, jelly

and more...

hearts 4 all I'm just lazy lol

nice to have friends, nice to know there are people who actually like u and care for u and are fun to hang with, nice to know people like u for who u really are unconditionally 

nice to know bitches i hate will never NEVER have that

stay lonely pitiful boring unsuccessful and fake . 

priorities straight. emptying out ugly shit, rebuilding myself and who i am. having fun, fixing my look. investing

music music music GOOD MUSIC

movies movies movies

books books books

those 3 things will never change

unbrainwashing myself

realized so much shit.. istg my glow up is associated with freeing my mind from all this bullshit...

RATHER BE PROUD OF WHO I AM RATHER THAN TRY TO BE SOMETHING IM NOT JUST TO FIT INTO SOME LOWKEY RACIST UGLY BORING BULLSHIT

crazy how deep into my coma i was

BITCH IM BACK OUT OF MY COMA

going forward.. going forward.. investing.. changing... 

mentality shifting.. my image of diserable.. who i want to be 

better important goals, fun goals, fun shit, cool shit, new shit

destroying the fuck bitches who tried to kill me

bunch of fucking losers. 

I'm better now I'm happy now i ended 2017 happy as fuck

i DONT have my gl but i don't need him rn. I'm loved. i love me. my family and friends got me. so until i act on some long awaited shit and gain more resources and achieve more personally UNTIL I'm ready and deserve some shit. then ill get gl. I'm going towards him. 

you're with me.. even when you're away.

hope u feel all this happiness too, hope you're warm, hope you know I'm not where u are right now and hope ur working your way towards me too

ill meet u in the warm .

happy. i spent many nights happy no fights no drama no sadness (other than not having gl i get hopeless being in love with someone i don't know yet but i cant help it)

soon tho dw.. it 2018 now lol

anyways!! i grew so much in 2017 I'm back to who i really am I'm motivated I'm happy I'm inspired I'm ready for the next year

i ended this year losing my bitch ass acne studios scarf!! like a dumb bitch!! so I'm still a dumb bitch!! but who cares -.-

need so stop buying dumb shit.. ill get the trousers when i get a job and the fucking scarf won't matter.. yo ass don't even like scarfs wtf -_-

lool see this optimistic dgaf mentality.. 

CAASH DONT LAST MY FRIENDS WILL RIDE FOR ME

and thats exactly what we did tonight, dance and sing to disney hits and sean paul . happy and careless af 

I GOTTED WHAT I WANTED RIGHT NOWWW 

GOD DOES IT FEEL SO GOOOOD

2018 lets fucking go. I'm ready . I'm going to make so much shit. I'm out my coma, i know what the fuck i want . no more dumb shit, we do dis. LETS FUCKING GOOOO.

[chwpromoblog]

BECKETT GUERRERO. college junior; twenty. alberto rosende. OPEN.

and, as bonnie hyper once said:

“Some of these football dicks make their girlfriends come and watch them practice as if it’s interesting.”

BEFORE THE PARTY;

There’s a more obvious line to draw in Beckett’s life — one that delineates before and after — but instead, he’s chopped up into different pieces: before and after the fire. He thought he was normal; he hadn’t even realized his parents found him strange and had no idea what to do with him. He thought he was safe; he had no idea how much malice children could hold in their hearts. This before and after is more poignant and fitting to him, if only because he truly doesn’t remember any piece of his life before he was burned. Well, there is one thing: that morning, he chopped his hair off into an uneven, prickly mess and headed to school in some other bumfuck town in Illinois that wasn’t Rosewood. He’d begged his parents to buy him new clothes just for the occasion. It was meant to be a good day. But the kids at school had other ideas.

At first, he thought the match was a joke. To an extent, the other kids probably did too; they’d just wanted to burn his clothes, but that wasn’t how fire worked. It consumed everything in it’s wake. It wasn’t choosy. So, by the time someone had managed to extinguish the flames, Beckett had fully come into himself, but he had also come into a broken, burnt body. It was odd, to be christened by fire. It didn’t change how he felt; it didn’t eliminate the fact that he’d spent so much time insisting, time and time again, that he wasn’t a girl. It just made being himself that much harder.

The therapists tried to draw out memories from before for a while, but there was a block so impressive in Beckett’s brain. He only wished to speak about the present, informing everyone within earshot of his new name and the truthful life he was meant to lead. It was the only thing he could talk about to keep him from focusing entirely on his reality.

He’d already been so uncomfortable with what he’d been born with, but now he was hideous, his skin patchy and raw and revealing all of the damage he always knew was there for everyone to see. His parents tried to appease him, though they still didn’t quite understand what was going on in his head. He was constantly downtrodden, though, and any good parents would have wanted to help him. And so they attempted, spending exorbitant amounts of cash on experimental procedures to alleviate the ugliness. When that didn’t work, they gave into his pleas to be home-schooled, and, eventually, allowed him to transition fully.

Yet, he went back into the world in his sophomore year of high school feeling anything but improved. He was insecure as ever, hiding under layers of too big clothing. It was easy to keep people from whispering about him; he was at boarding school in a new town where no one knew anything about the boy who’d burned because he’d chosen to be himself.

He kept a considerable distance between himself and the other guys, quietly reading in the corner whenever he needed something to do. Once, a couple of boys from the grade beneath him approached him and insisted that he was just what they needed — that they were different and hated Welton too. They wanted to read the great poets and aim to be extraordinary. But he insisted that he wasn’t like them, that he didn’t hate Welton. And he didn’t. He didn’t really hate anything or anyone. Not even the people who had completely changed the fabric of his life all those years ago. He was just floating above them all, too in his own head to even spend time thinking about other people. That self-absorption had become pure self-deprecation as he nitpicked at himself and all the imperfections he hid.

He hadn’t meant to meet the others, but he knew that the Welton guys wandered out of the dorms at night and hung out at the halfway point between their school and St. Agnes, the school across the way. He’d wanted to get away from the mirror for once — he’d called his parents and for once, they’d refused to pay for surgery, though he insisted that there was fat he needed to suck out from underneath his bones. He was alone when they approached him, and the haze from the beers he’d grabbed from the pile the Welton boys collected had given them a luminous glow. It was Nadine who asked him why he was isolating himself — Nadine, who was inarguably and almost frighteningly gorgeous over the sickness he would later find she held underneath. Her beauty compelled him to answer: he just didn’t want to be with anyone. But they sat with him anyway. And so began a very strange friendship.

They all had their ailments. This much he would come to know. He wasn’t sure why they kept him around, really; it was obvious that he wasn’t entirely honest with them. Sure, he’d told them he was transgender, but that wasn’t really what he was looking to hide. It was the burns. Even in the depths of summer, he wore sweaters by the pool as Reed swam laps and Nadine and Saskia tanned on lawn chairs and flipped through magazines. But they didn’t pester him about it. He was just their quiet, naive Beckett, never quite forthcoming but always ready with comforting words or a small smile — things he never got from anyone other than his parents until he met them. They had this tenuous connection that relied on the fact that they were all outsiders in their own ways — the why didn’t really matter.

So, of course, the revelation of his secret hadn’t been of his own volition. For some reason, Nadine had been sneaking through the Welton showers when she saw him. Later, he would come to understand that she had deliberately sought his secret shame out. But then, Nadine had coddled him and assured him that his burns were nothing to be ashamed of. Being who she was, she promised that she had her ways — that he could be fixed. By graduation, Beckett had made nice with Nadine’s plastic surgeon on several occasions, and all on his so-called best friend’s dime. It wouldn’t ever be enough, but that was the point. His parents called it an addiction. He insisted it was a necessity.

Saskia swore she was a little more clear-headed than he and Reed, who were easily manipulated by Nadine. She’d spent their college years trying to convince them that Nadine was bad news — all the while remaining friends with her, if only to keep a close eye. Even so, she didn’t know the extent of everything, and she had her own issues with Nadine to contend with. She had no idea how she made Beckett yearn for perfection he couldn’t have and made Reed so angry that she couldn’t feel anything else. Neither of them felt comfortable telling Saskia, who had her own vicious streak. So they turned to each other.

They couldn’t stop being Nadine’s puppets — they were inexplicably drawn to her and what she had to offer, whether they liked it or not — but they could make sure that she wasn’t the only one who knew the most important things about themselves. Beckett showed her his scars — from the burns and the surgeries. Reed shared her emotional ones, her insecurities about who she was and how others preyed on it. They loved each other, he knew. But Nadine was obsessive. She was territorial. And she couldn’t just let them be.

DURING THE PARTY;

Every nerve of his was vibrating with anxiety at the thought of finally going on a date with Reed. They'd waited, bided their time, until things had quieted down and they felt Nadine's grasp on them loosen. His body image had improved considerably, and Reed had snapped back to her senses. This was good. They could be good.

Beckett had never been as outwardly pessimistic as Reed, but she provided him with some stiff competition. He managed to feel himself inherit some of her pessimism when his phone vibrated with a text as he was getting ready in a frenzy, his shaky hands unable to properly tie a bowtie.

Laurel is missing.

He had to convince her not to go to Nadine's alone. He had to keep her from scratching the girl's eyes out. For how well Reed had been doing for all this time, it crumbled in an instant, as if the universe was set against them for the entirety of their lives.

When Saskia finally arrived, Beckett took it as an opportunity to grab Reed by the hand and pull her into himself. He couldn't solve this problem for her, but he could do better. He'd always been the most gullible of them all, and so she shoved what little pity he had for Nadine away. If Reed said she did it, she did it.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. It was a shitty moment to say it for the first time, but Reed needed to hear it. And he needed to hear himself say it. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

alternate faceclaims and prompts.

#alberto rosende #roleplay #rp #rpg #bio rp #original rp

[chwpromoblog]

BECKETT GUERRERO. college junior; twenty. alberto rosende. OPEN.

and, as bonnie hyper once said:

“Some of these football dicks make their girlfriends come and watch them practice as if it’s interesting.”

BEFORE THE PARTY;

There’s a more obvious line to draw in Beckett’s life — one that delineates before and after — but instead, he’s chopped up into different pieces: before and after the fire. He thought he was normal; he hadn’t even realized his parents found him strange and had no idea what to do with him. He thought he was safe; he had no idea how much malice children could hold in their hearts. This before and after is more poignant and fitting to him, if only because he truly doesn’t remember any piece of his life before he was burned. Well, there is one thing: that morning, he chopped his hair off into an uneven, prickly mess and headed to school in some other bumfuck town in Illinois that wasn’t Rosewood. He’d begged his parents to buy him new clothes just for the occasion. It was meant to be a good day. But the kids at school had other ideas.

At first, he thought the match was a joke. To an extent, the other kids probably did too; they’d just wanted to burn his clothes, but that wasn’t how fire worked. It consumed everything in it’s wake. It wasn’t choosy. So, by the time someone had managed to extinguish the flames, Beckett had fully come into himself, but he had also come into a broken, burnt body. It was odd, to be christened by fire. It didn’t change how he felt; it didn’t eliminate the fact that he’d spent so much time insisting, time and time again, that he wasn’t a girl. It just made being himself that much harder.

The therapists tried to draw out memories from before for a while, but there was a block so impressive in Beckett’s brain. He only wished to speak about the present, informing everyone within earshot of his new name and the truthful life he was meant to lead. It was the only thing he could talk about to keep him from focusing entirely on his reality.

He’d already been so uncomfortable with what he’d been born with, but now he was hideous, his skin patchy and raw and revealing all of the damage he always knew was there for everyone to see. His parents tried to appease him, though they still didn’t quite understand what was going on in his head. He was constantly downtrodden, though, and any good parents would have wanted to help him. And so they attempted, spending exorbitant amounts of cash on experimental procedures to alleviate the ugliness. When that didn’t work, they gave into his pleas to be home-schooled, and, eventually, allowed him to transition fully.

Yet, he went back into the world in his sophomore year of high school feeling anything but improved. He was insecure as ever, hiding under layers of too big clothing. It was easy to keep people from whispering about him; he was at boarding school in a new town where no one knew anything about the boy who’d burned because he’d chosen to be himself.

He kept a considerable distance between himself and the other guys, quietly reading in the corner whenever he needed something to do. Once, a couple of boys from the grade beneath him approached him and insisted that he was just what they needed — that they were different and hated Welton too. They wanted to read the great poets and aim to be extraordinary. But he insisted that he wasn’t like them, that he didn’t hate Welton. And he didn’t. He didn’t really hate anything or anyone. Not even the people who had completely changed the fabric of his life all those years ago. He was just floating above them all, too in his own head to even spend time thinking about other people. That self-absorption had become pure self-deprecation as he nitpicked at himself and all the imperfections he hid.

He hadn’t meant to meet the others, but he knew that the Welton guys wandered out of the dorms at night and hung out at the halfway point between their school and St. Agnes, the school across the way. He’d wanted to get away from the mirror for once — he’d called his parents and for once, they’d refused to pay for surgery, though he insisted that there was fat he needed to suck out from underneath his bones. He was alone when they approached him, and the haze from the beers he’d grabbed from the pile the Welton boys collected had given them a luminous glow. It was Nadine who asked him why he was isolating himself — Nadine, who was inarguably and almost frighteningly gorgeous over the sickness he would later find she held underneath. Her beauty compelled him to answer: he just didn’t want to be with anyone. But they sat with him anyway. And so began a very strange friendship.

They all had their ailments. This much he would come to know. He wasn’t sure why they kept him around, really; it was obvious that he wasn’t entirely honest with them. Sure, he’d told them he was transgender, but that wasn’t really what he was looking to hide. It was the burns. Even in the depths of summer, he wore sweaters by the pool as Reed swam laps and Nadine and Saskia tanned on lawn chairs and flipped through magazines. But they didn’t pester him about it. He was just their quiet, naive Beckett, never quite forthcoming but always ready with comforting words or a small smile — things he never got from anyone other than his parents until he met them. They had this tenuous connection that relied on the fact that they were all outsiders in their own ways — the why didn’t really matter.

So, of course, the revelation of his secret hadn’t been of his own volition. For some reason, Nadine had been sneaking through the Welton showers when she saw him. Later, he would come to understand that she had deliberately sought his secret shame out. But then, Nadine had coddled him and assured him that his burns were nothing to be ashamed of. Being who she was, she promised that she had her ways — that he could be fixed. By graduation, Beckett had made nice with Nadine’s plastic surgeon on several occasions, and all on his so-called best friend’s dime. It wouldn’t ever be enough, but that was the point. His parents called it an addiction. He insisted it was a necessity.

Saskia swore she was a little more clear-headed than he and Reed, who were easily manipulated by Nadine. She’d spent their college years trying to convince them that Nadine was bad news — all the while remaining friends with her, if only to keep a close eye. Even so, she didn’t know the extent of everything, and she had her own issues with Nadine to contend with. She had no idea how she made Beckett yearn for perfection he couldn’t have and made Reed so angry that she couldn’t feel anything else. Neither of them felt comfortable telling Saskia, who had her own vicious streak. So they turned to each other.

They couldn’t stop being Nadine’s puppets — they were inexplicably drawn to her and what she had to offer, whether they liked it or not — but they could make sure that she wasn’t the only one who knew the most important things about themselves. Beckett showed her his scars — from the burns and the surgeries. Reed shared her emotional ones, her insecurities about who she was and how others preyed on it. They loved each other, he knew. But Nadine was obsessive. She was territorial. And she couldn’t just let them be.

DURING THE PARTY;

Every nerve of his was vibrating with anxiety at the thought of finally going on a date with Reed. They'd waited, bided their time, until things had quieted down and they felt Nadine's grasp on them loosen. His body image had improved considerably, and Reed had snapped back to her senses. This was good. They could be good.

Beckett had never been as outwardly pessimistic as Reed, but she provided him with some stiff competition. He managed to feel himself inherit some of her pessimism when his phone vibrated with a text as he was getting ready in a frenzy, his shaky hands unable to properly tie a bowtie.

Laurel is missing.

He had to convince her not to go to Nadine's alone. He had to keep her from scratching the girl's eyes out. For how well Reed had been doing for all this time, it crumbled in an instant, as if the universe was set against them for the entirety of their lives.

When Saskia finally arrived, Beckett took it as an opportunity to grab Reed by the hand and pull her into himself. He couldn't solve this problem for her, but he could do better. He'd always been the most gullible of them all, and so she shoved what little pity he had for Nadine away. If Reed said she did it, she did it.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. It was a shitty moment to say it for the first time, but Reed needed to hear it. And he needed to hear himself say it. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

alternate faceclaims and prompts.

#roleplay #rp #rpg #bio rp #town rp

[chwpromoblog]

BECKETT GUERRERO. college junior; twenty. alberto rosende. OPEN.

and, as bonnie hyper once said:

“Some of these football dicks make their girlfriends come and watch them practice as if it’s interesting.”

BEFORE THE PARTY;

There’s a more obvious line to draw in Beckett’s life — one that delineates before and after — but instead, he’s chopped up into different pieces: before and after the fire. He thought he was normal; he hadn’t even realized his parents found him strange and had no idea what to do with him. He thought he was safe; he had no idea how much malice children could hold in their hearts. This before and after is more poignant and fitting to him, if only because he truly doesn’t remember any piece of his life before he was burned. Well, there is one thing: that morning, he chopped his hair off into an uneven, prickly mess and headed to school in some other bumfuck town in Illinois that wasn’t Rosewood. He’d begged his parents to buy him new clothes just for the occasion. It was meant to be a good day. But the kids at school had other ideas.

At first, he thought the match was a joke. To an extent, the other kids probably did too; they’d just wanted to burn his clothes, but that wasn’t how fire worked. It consumed everything in it’s wake. It wasn’t choosy. So, by the time someone had managed to extinguish the flames, Beckett had fully come into himself, but he had also come into a broken, burnt body. It was odd, to be christened by fire. It didn’t change how he felt; it didn’t eliminate the fact that he’d spent so much time insisting, time and time again, that he wasn’t a girl. It just made being himself that much harder.

The therapists tried to draw out memories from before for a while, but there was a block so impressive in Beckett’s brain. He only wished to speak about the present, informing everyone within earshot of his new name and the truthful life he was meant to lead. It was the only thing he could talk about to keep him from focusing entirely on his reality.

He’d already been so uncomfortable with what he’d been born with, but now he was hideous, his skin patchy and raw and revealing all of the damage he always knew was there for everyone to see. His parents tried to appease him, though they still didn’t quite understand what was going on in his head. He was constantly downtrodden, though, and any good parents would have wanted to help him. And so they attempted, spending exorbitant amounts of cash on experimental procedures to alleviate the ugliness. When that didn’t work, they gave into his pleas to be home-schooled, and, eventually, allowed him to transition fully.

Yet, he went back into the world in his sophomore year of high school feeling anything but improved. He was insecure as ever, hiding under layers of too big clothing. It was easy to keep people from whispering about him; he was at boarding school in a new town where no one knew anything about the boy who’d burned because he’d chosen to be himself.

He kept a considerable distance between himself and the other guys, quietly reading in the corner whenever he needed something to do. Once, a couple of boys from the grade beneath him approached him and insisted that he was just what they needed — that they were different and hated Welton too. They wanted to read the great poets and aim to be extraordinary. But he insisted that he wasn’t like them, that he didn’t hate Welton. And he didn’t. He didn’t really hate anything or anyone. Not even the people who had completely changed the fabric of his life all those years ago. He was just floating above them all, too in his own head to even spend time thinking about other people. That self-absorption had become pure self-deprecation as he nitpicked at himself and all the imperfections he hid.

He hadn’t meant to meet the others, but he knew that the Welton guys wandered out of the dorms at night and hung out at the halfway point between their school and St. Agnes, the school across the way. He’d wanted to get away from the mirror for once — he’d called his parents and for once, they’d refused to pay for surgery, though he insisted that there was fat he needed to suck out from underneath his bones. He was alone when they approached him, and the haze from the beers he’d grabbed from the pile the Welton boys collected had given them a luminous glow. It was Nadine who asked him why he was isolating himself — Nadine, who was inarguably and almost frighteningly gorgeous over the sickness he would later find she held underneath. Her beauty compelled him to answer: he just didn’t want to be with anyone. But they sat with him anyway. And so began a very strange friendship.

They all had their ailments. This much he would come to know. He wasn’t sure why they kept him around, really; it was obvious that he wasn’t entirely honest with them. Sure, he’d told them he was transgender, but that wasn’t really what he was looking to hide. It was the burns. Even in the depths of summer, he wore sweaters by the pool as Reed swam laps and Nadine and Saskia tanned on lawn chairs and flipped through magazines. But they didn’t pester him about it. He was just their quiet, naive Beckett, never quite forthcoming but always ready with comforting words or a small smile — things he never got from anyone other than his parents until he met them. They had this tenuous connection that relied on the fact that they were all outsiders in their own ways — the why didn’t really matter.

So, of course, the revelation of his secret hadn’t been of his own volition. For some reason, Nadine had been sneaking through the Welton showers when she saw him. Later, he would come to understand that she had deliberately sought his secret shame out. But then, Nadine had coddled him and assured him that his burns were nothing to be ashamed of. Being who she was, she promised that she had her ways — that he could be fixed. By graduation, Beckett had made nice with Nadine’s plastic surgeon on several occasions, and all on his so-called best friend’s dime. It wouldn’t ever be enough, but that was the point. His parents called it an addiction. He insisted it was a necessity.

Saskia swore she was a little more clear-headed than he and Reed, who were easily manipulated by Nadine. She’d spent their college years trying to convince them that Nadine was bad news — all the while remaining friends with her, if only to keep a close eye. Even so, she didn’t know the extent of everything, and she had her own issues with Nadine to contend with. She had no idea how she made Beckett yearn for perfection he couldn’t have and made Reed so angry that she couldn’t feel anything else. Neither of them felt comfortable telling Saskia, who had her own vicious streak. So they turned to each other.

They couldn’t stop being Nadine’s puppets — they were inexplicably drawn to her and what she had to offer, whether they liked it or not — but they could make sure that she wasn’t the only one who knew the most important things about themselves. Beckett showed her his scars — from the burns and the surgeries. Reed shared her emotional ones, her insecurities about who she was and how others preyed on it. They loved each other, he knew. But Nadine was obsessive. She was territorial. And she couldn’t just let them be.

DURING THE PARTY;

Every nerve of his was vibrating with anxiety at the thought of finally going on a date with Reed. They'd waited, bided their time, until things had quieted down and they felt Nadine's grasp on them loosen. His body image had improved considerably, and Reed had snapped back to her senses. This was good. They could be good.

Beckett had never been as outwardly pessimistic as Reed, but she provided him with some stiff competition. He managed to feel himself inherit some of her pessimism when his phone vibrated with a text as he was getting ready in a frenzy, his shaky hands unable to properly tie a bowtie.

Laurel is missing.

He had to convince her not to go to Nadine's alone. He had to keep her from scratching the girl's eyes out. For how well Reed had been doing for all this time, it crumbled in an instant, as if the universe was set against them for the entirety of their lives.

When Saskia finally arrived, Beckett took it as an opportunity to grab Reed by the hand and pull her into himself. He couldn't solve this problem for her, but he could do better. He'd always been the most gullible of them all, and so she shoved what little pity he had for Nadine away. If Reed said she did it, she did it.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. It was a shitty moment to say it for the first time, but Reed needed to hear it. And he needed to hear himself say it. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

alternate faceclaims and prompts.

#roleplay #rp #rpg #bio rp #alberto rosende