you’re a part of me

(WHAT?? Jax wrote ANOTHER fic?? THREE FICS?? in TWO WEEKS?? I know, I’m shocked too. We’re gettin closer and closer to bein a Real Fic Writer lads.) How many juke first kiss fics will you write, Jax? all of them. as many as I want. I dunno. you're an adult obsessed with a tweeny-bopper show. shut up. who even has the patience for 5 +1s in this house it's 3 +1 and only barely bc I don't know how structured fic works so it's not even separate like it's supposed to be. anyway enjoy some dumb teenagers falling in love if the dialogue is cringe sorry lol I was trying to stay in the tone of the show and may have gone a little bit too disney channel (Also if you see typos/the same adjective used twice in one sentence/paragraph, no you didn't I don't edit it makes me nervous)  ------------------------------- (ao3) ------------------------------ '... Luke has thrown out any semblance of personal space. He orbits around her just as closely as the others, no longer threatened by or hyper-aware of the consequences of his proximity. Basically, he’s getting entirely too comfortable.'

(3 times Julie and Luke almost kissed and 1 time they did) ------------------------------------ Luke is overly physical. Theoretically, Julie already knew this. She’s seen him with the boys, the way he lives in other people’s space, hanging off Reggie and lurking next to Alex, not caring where his lanky limbs or knees or elbows end up, even if it’s in other people’s ribs. He was never like that with her, too afraid of the crushing disappointment that came when she phased through his hands. But now, there isn’t the strange, tingles-up-her neck way-weird, way-wrong sensation that came when she accidentally brushed through him. So even though Julie’s used to keeping a respectful distance, Luke has thrown out any semblance of personal space. He orbits around her just as closely as the others, no longer threatened by or hyper-aware of the consequences of his proximity.  Basically, he’s getting entirely too comfortable. 

She notices it the first time during rehearsal, when they’re hashing out the particulars of a melody -- Luke wants it to go down, and Julie thinks it should go up. She plunks herself down at the grand piano to prove that her idea will sound better, fanning the half-finished sheet music out across the top, pointing out the measure they’re arguing over, smudged and crinkled from repeated erasings. 

Luke narrows his eyes at her from across the room, his face set in his trademark (adorable) grumpy expression. “It just sounds better!” she argues. “Listen.” She puts her hands on the keys, left hand hitting the chord, right dancing over her proposed melody. “So please, keep chasing me…” she sings, building to the last word and sliding her voice over an intricate run ending in a step up. Looking up, she tilts her head, her wild hair piled into a tenuous bun, curly tendrils framing her face. Luke’s stomach does an interesting flip. “See?” 

He stands up, swinging his guitar strap down across his chest before walking around her, putting his right hand over where hers had just been on the paper. He stands just behind her shoulder, sending goosebumps down her spine. “It should go down,” he insists. “It’ll flow better with the next line and then the break before the chorus makes more sense. Listen.” He puts his foot up on the bench and swings his guitar back up like it's an extension of him, playing a riff and singing the line they’re arguing about before dipping in to the next. “So please keep chasing me,” he sings, his voice gracefully stepping up and then back down, “Cause even though I’m runnin’, I know you’re the one I need.” 

“You’re making it too simple!” she cries, slamming her hands down in her lap and turning to face him. She opens her mouth to continue the argument, but when she looks at him, she starts, finally realizing just how close he is. The toe of his sneaker brushes her leg, and he leans over the sheet music, closing her in against the piano. His dark eyebrows pull together, mouth slightly pinched as he concentrates, solid and strong and very much in her space. “Um --” she says. 

He shrugs, shaking his head a little bit. “What,” he says, not understanding what she’s having a problem with. Julie’s eyes drop to his mouth, close and stupid kissable, and he notices the motion. The air crackles as both of them unconsciously draw closer, song forgotten, focused only on each other. Luke leans in, half an inch, and Julie’s breath hitches in her chest. This is stupid. She knows this is stupid. Luke is dead. Full ghost. Not real. Well, real, but not a viable option. He might have a physical presence now -- a very strong, very warm, very attractive physical presence -- but that doesn’t make him any more possible. And yet, here she is, pulled into him like he has his own gravitational field and she’s helpless to it. Luke licks his lips, and Julie tilts her chin up, fractional motion tiptoeing toward something irreversible and dangerous. 

Just as she’s about to step over that uncrossable line, there’s an almighty crash. Both of their heads whip up in time to see Alex topple off his stool -- he’d fallen asleep as they were arguing. The noise wakes Reggie, whose head was lolling against his amp. “I didn’t do it!” he yells, flailing into sitting up straight. 

Julie clears her throat and turns back to the keyboard, stretching her hands over the keys. “You’re, uh --” she says, glancing at Luke out of the corner of her eye to find him smirking in an infuriatingly adorable manner. “You’re right. It should go down.” He stands up straight, mildly surprised at his easy victory, and backs off from the piano to show Reggie the chords. They sketch out the verse and Alex adds a backing beat, the moment forgotten. 

That is, until Carlos comes in to nag her to eat. Alex poofs out and Reggie dives behind his amp. Since the whole discovering-corporeality thing, they’re not totally sure if Julie’s the only one who can see them still, and they’d rather not have to explain to Julie’s dad what three teenage ‘holograms’ are doing living in his garage. Carlos delivers his message and then darts back inside, eager for dinner, and Julie stands up from the piano, gathering the half-finished song and tucking it into the folder she keeps her in-progress projects in. 

Reggie emerges in a comic mess of limbs and grins at her, Alex poofing back on to his stool. “I’ll be back after dinner to finish this,” she says, hoping they don't notice the shake in her hands as she tucks the folder away. Luke pops his chin over the edge of the couch, behind which he’d taken cover. 

“Hey Julie!” he calls, and she turns back to look at him. “Just remember; KISS.” 

Her brain short-circuits, heart tripping over itself as she remembers his eyes on her, his shoulders and his hands and his stupid concentration face. “I, uh -- What are you --” she sputters.

A shit-eating grin spreads across Luke’s face as he puts his elbows on top of the couch and pushes himself up. “Keep it simple, stupid.” 

Julie practically runs out of the garage. Alex raises an eyebrow, his gaze arcing from the door to land on Luke. “That was uh…” Luke schools his expression into one of false innocence. “Bold.” Luke rolls his eyes and brushes him off, but Reggie gives Alex a knowing look. Their friends are idiots. 

It happens again one afternoon when Carlos has a baseball game and Julie has the house to herself. Or, so she thinks. She’s lazing around on the couch, avoiding her history homework spread out on the coffee table, Adventure Time babbling on the television. She’s slowly working her way through a bag of gummy bears and m&ms (her favorite candy combination),  wearing an enormous hoodie that used to be her mom’s, home alone; life is fantastic. Until -- 

“Oh, sweet, cartoons!” Luke poofs into existence directly next to her on the couch, and she starts violently enough to shake candy into the couch cushions. Some of it lands on his chest, and he holds up a green gummy bear with a wistful expression. Julie just stares at him, still mildly in shock, definitely still annoyed, and really not in the mood to endure his moping about food when she was having a perfectly nice time by herself. 

“Hey,” he says, either ignoring or unaware of what he’s just done to her heart rate and her peaceful afternoon. “You think now that I’m corporeal --” (he over-pronounces the word, having just learned it from Flynn days before) “I can eat like, regular human food?” It isn’t until he looks to her for an answer that he realizes what he’s just done. “Oh, sorry,” he says, that same stupid-ass grin settling on his face, not sorry even a little bit. “Did I spook ya?” 

His glee at the pun, which he definitely stole from Reggie, sparkles in his gray-green eyes, and Julie’s heart, which had just started to recover from his sudden appearance, trips over itself one more time. Emerging from the shaken-up snowglobe of her brain, she blurts out her first thought. “You’re the worst,” she says, even while thinking the opposite. 

He looks genuinely hurt for about half a second before turning the gummy bear towards her, too, and speaking for it. “You should be nice to Luke,” he says in an absurd voice. “He’s so handsome and talented!” He laughs at his own joke and pitches his voice up to continue with the bit, but she snatches the candy out of his hand and pops into her mouth, grinning. He feigns shock. “That bear could have had a family, Julie.” 

“If they did, they’ll all be happy together in my stomach,” she says, eating another one to punctuate the statement. Luke laughs, and the sound has a heart-stopping melody of its own. It’s comfortable, the relationship that they’ve developed with each other. He always laughs at her jokes and is the first to offer her a compliment after rehearsal, and she loves his dorky sense of humor, even when she gives him a hard time about it. They write music and goof around, and even with the (very strong) undercurrent of romantic (she hopes) tension between them, a friendship sits comfortably on top. He’s only been in her life for a short time,  but she can’t imagine it without him. Her feelings for him endanger that, so she does her best not to let it show. He asks her what she’s watching, and she explains the basic premise of the episode so that he can understand what’s going on. 

She’s hyper-aware of him as they watch the show, and  she envies the ease with which he occupies her space, his shoulder brushing hers, their knees occasionally bumping. He slouches all the way down on the couch, one foot kicked up on the table, turning the remote in his hands and messing with the battery cover, completely at home. (He’s always fiddling with something -- a pen, his necklace -- or bouncing his leg, or clicking a guitar pick between his teeth. It’s a habit that’s mostly adorable and only sometimes annoying.) If he notices her staring at him, he doesn’t say anything. 

It takes a couple more episodes, but she finally relaxes, and the distance between them -- already spare -- vanishes, her shoulder tucked under his, her head angled toward him, their feet bumping on the table. Half her attention is on Finn and the land of Ooo, and half on the boy beside her, who doesn’t seem to give any indication that he’s thinking about this as much as she is. Luke has a way of pulling her in until she’s closer than she ever planned to be, like she can’t help but touch him. Ever since the night they played the Orpheum, he’s become magnetic, his presence a force she can’t resist. If she tilted her head down, just a fraction, it would be resting on his shoulder. What would he do? Would he shrug her off, or rest his head on hers? She watches his hands play with the remote, imagining what his strong, slender fingers would feel like laced with hers. She’s had crushes before, of course -- she liked Nick all the way from seventh grade up to this year -- but nothing so real and powerful as this. 

“Don’t you think Finn sounds just like Reggie?” Luke asks, pulling her from her thoughts. She looks up at him, and he looks down at her, and -- oh. 

He’s very close. 

His eyes always remind her of an overcast sky, swirling with unknown depth, and they widen when they meet hers, filled with awe. Blood rushes in her ears, muting the TV, tuning out anything that isn’t him. Her heart is beating so hard and so fast she wonders peripherally if he can hear it, and then that thought fizzles out with the rest of any kind of logic when his gaze drops to her mouth. He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her!! Panic and elation and anticipation all scramble in her chest. She’s never kissed anyone before, and even though she’s never asked, she knows he probably has. What if she’s bad at it? She’s half freaking out and half telling herself to shut the hell up as he turns his entire body towards her, his hand reaching up to hold her face and -- 

The front door slams open, announcing Carlos and Ray. “Mija!!” her dad calls. Luke jerks back from her like he’s been burned, eyes filled with absolute terror, before he disappears. 

“JULIEEEEE!!” Carlos hollers, launching himself across the living room at her and landing on her stomach, knocking the air out of her. Her arms come up around him automatically, despite all the sweat and the diamond dirt sticking to it. Feeling mildly shell shocked and like she’s been hit by a hell of a lot more than her little brother, she barely listens as Carlos and their dad babble over each other in an attempt at telling the story of Carlos’ game-winning home-base slide. She’ll be happy for him once her heart rate slows down. 

Luke stays away for almost a full twenty-four hours after that particular mishap, long enough she almost asks Reggie and Alex if he talked to them about it. There’s about a thousand reasons not to, but mostly, she doesn’t know if she can even explain just what happened. She does tell Flynn, who launches into a very confusing monologue that starts with her admonishing Julie for thinking anything good can come from involving herself with a literal ghost and ends with her gushing about how many cute love songs they could write together, zero percent of which makes her feel better. 

The only reason he doesn’t continue avoiding her is rehearsal, which, of course, he would never miss. She’s hoping to talk to him before they get started, but then the bus gets stuck in traffic and all of her boys are already set up with their instruments and having an impromptu jam session by the time she gets home.  “What --” she hisses as she heaves the doors shut behind her. “Did I tell you guys about playing in here without me?” Alex shrugs and apologizes, and she can’t really be mad at Reggie, at least not for long. 

But Luke -- he barely looks at her, nervous fingers dancing across a complicated riff even as the other boys stop playing. It takes a second of silence before he looks up to see the rest of his band staring at him. “Oh,” he says, the phrase ending in the discordant sound of fingernails on steel strings. “Yeah, right. Sorry.” 

They get started, but nothing sounds right. Luke rushes the tempo and refuses to make eye contact with anyone, spinning off into fancy riffs that have no place in the song they’re working on. Reggie keeps trying to keep up with him, tripping up Alex and frustrating Julie, and when the song grinds to a cacophonous halt for the fourth time, she stands up from the piano. Reggie takes a step back. 

“What is your problem?” she practically yells, stomping over to Luke. He’s been surly and unusually stubborn, and the shift from his usual cheerful, passionate demeanor builds her own stewing anxieties to a dangerous head.

“It’s not my problem you can’t keep up,” he says, and then, after watching the words register in Julie’s expression, immediately regrets it. Alex’s eyebrows shoot up and Reggie makes a very soft ‘ooooohhh’ noise under his breath.

“It’s not keeping up if you can’t hold a steady tempo,” she says, too upset over his refusal to cooperate to catch the reaction from her bandmates.

“Okay, so maybe I was rushing,” he admits, trying to walk it back. But Julie’s on a roll, and once she gets started laying into him, she very rarely lets up.

“Thank you!” she yells, the sarcasm clear in her tone. She’d been especially fond of the product so far, a song she thought embodied the perfect blend of Luke’s harder edge and her singer-songwriter roots. His sudden, uncharacteristic left turn is as much an interruption in their rehearsal as a knock to the tenuous pride she’d been building in the piece.  “And what are all those riffs you’re tossing in? You have to hear how they don’t fit.” 

“Oh come on,” he says, proud in his ability and therefore less willing to step down. He rolls his shoulders back and moves toward her, the challenge set in his spine. “I was shredding and you know it.” Luke is sweet and kind and silly and compassionate, but he’s also a musician, and a lead guitarist at that. His ego, though it rarely becomes an issue, is far from insubstantial. 

“If you want a solo, fine!” she cries with exasperation, her hands flying through the air like they always do when she’s upset. “But you have to say something so we can give you room for it!” Her annoyance has turned down the sensitivity on her Luke-nonsense monitor, caught up enough in the trouble that she can’t see that he’s riling her up on purpose.

“What, you afraid of a little improvisation?” He’s smiling now, and his obvious glee, such a stark flip from where she thought this was going, throws off her tirade. He starts walking toward her, and his newfound physicality gives him an ability to fluster her to a much greater degree than before.

“No --” she stammers, stumbling backwards, distracted out of anger by his sparkling eyes and the power in the body approaching rapidly. “That’s not what I --” There it is again, that power he has to turn the rest of the world into radio static, her vision blurring and her hearing dulling until it’s just Luke filling up the world in front of her. 

“C’mon Julie,” he says, and right now she hates his stupid smirk and the stupid way he rolls her name around in his mouth before letting it out. “you have to take risks once in a while.” She’s backed up against the piano now, her hands wrapped tight around the lid, and he’s still pushing it, strong and warm and undeniably, frustratingly male in her space. 

But Julie isn’t one to let him intimidate her into silence, no matter how cute and well-muscled he may be. She takes a breath and looks him in his ridiculous sparkly eyes, poking him in his absurdly firm chest.“I am not afraid of taking risks, mister,” she says, “Let’s not forget who performed in front of her entire school to get back into the music program --” 

“My idea,” he scoffs, not backing up. Why isn’t he backing up.

“Or who fronts a band of actual ghosts!” she continues, her voice increasing in volume again, and the speed of her heart tripping over itself could be from the argument or the boy who’s collarbones are less than a foot from her face. Both are entirely possible. 

“Less ghost now,” he reminds her, tilting his head, his weight leaned one one leg, his hand resting on the head of his guitar, relaxed when they’re supposed to be arguing. 

“You just get to poof out after we perform!” she says, only about two-thirds of her mind still focused on the fight itself, the other third completely wrapped up in the feeling of Luke in front of her. “I’m the one who has to stick around and ask questions!” 

“So you’re saying you take chances,” he says, diabolically diplomatic instead of challenging. He leans forward, putting his hands on the piano behind her, caging her in with his arms. She refuses to back down again, even though his face is now inches from hers. “You’d take a leap of faith?” 

“Yeah,” she says, only half-certain, because she’s not totally sure they’re still talking about music, and her heart is in the base of her throat and her stomach is somewhere around her shoes, and suddenly her hands are sweating when they definitely weren’t a minute ago. This definitely isn’t an argument about the song anymore. 

“Oh yeah?” he says, and there’s the challenge again, except this one sounds more like a dare, and he’s definitely looking at her lips this time, not even trying to be subtle about it, and her hands are braced on his forearms and when did they get there? And Luke is warm and when she looks up, his eyes are on hers, and despite all that bravado and provocation there’s still a question there, and all she would have to do to answer is lift up on her toes and finally, finally press her lips against his, and -- 

Alex coughs. The oxygen goes out of the room like someone opened an airlock, and Julie feels herself sink, just barely, back down on her heels. The world fills back in, colors and sounds suddenly too bright, too abrasive. Tearing her eyes off Luke, she glances over his shoulder to where Reggie and Alex are, still with their instruments, watching them intently. Alex looks politely put out, his eyebrows tilted up with incredulity, like he's asking if they seriously just made him watch that. Reggie, on the other hand, hides nothing in his expression, shock and amusement there in equal parts as he glances between Alex and the two of them still tucked close against the piano, jaw askance in a surprised smile. 

"Are you done?" Alex asks, in a tone that sounds less like a question. "It’s not that I mind…" he gestures between the two of them with a drumstick. "This, but like, time and place, dude." He's not talking to Julie. Luke clears his throat, appropriately chastised, but still looking smug as shit. 

"Um, sorry," she mutters as he returns to his spot next to his amp. 

Alex shrugs. "Not your fault," he says, "from the top?" 

"Uh," she says, frozen for a moment in embarrassment and confusion. She looks to Alex, and he gives her one of his soft, kind smiles, the sort that makes her feel like everything is going to be okay. “Right, okay,” she finishes, as her hands twitch and she settles back into her body. Rushing back around to the bench, she flexes her hands over the keys, curling them into fists and then back out again when they tremble. “From the top.” 

The rehearsal goes -- okay, after that. The magic is missing; therefore, while she usually feels inspired and courageous and empowered walking out of the garage, she just feels exhausted and drained. She eats dinner with her family, and her dad definitely notices that she’s uncharacteristically quiet, but saves asking about it until after Carlos is safely sequestered with his iPad. “How ya doin, kiddo?” he asks as she helps him clear up the dishes. “Everything okay?” 

Julie looks at her dad with mild alarm, wondering what exactly he knows. He does his best, he really does, but it took him a while to even notice she was in a band. Not to mention, he still believes they’re holograms. “Um,” she says convincingly. “Yeah?” 

He smiles kindly, in the way that means he’s very politely calling bullshit. “Alright, mija. What’s going on?” 

Heaving a sigh, Julie keeps her eyes on the dishwasher she’s loading, trying her best to plan an escape route out of this conversation. “I promise, Dad,” she says, “It’s nothing.” and then, what she thinks are the magic words. “Boy stuff.” 

But Ray’s been prepping for this, had conversations with Rose about it before she passed, while the cancer slowly ate her alive. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to be there for her daughter through the time in her life a girl needs her mother the most, and she wasn’t about to let him hide behind toxic masculinity and leave Julie to figure it out on her own. “Okay,” Ray says, trepidation clear in his voice but also not unwilling to approach the topic. “What’s his name?” 

Julie almost drops the pot she’s scrubbing. “Does it matter?” she asks, her voice crawling up several octaves. 

“Just trying to learn who is in my daughter’s life,” he answers diplomatically, sitting down at the counter to make it clear he’s not letting her out of this one easily. 

“I promise, Dad,” she says, doing her best to frantically dodge the interrogation she knows is coming, regretting she brought it up at all, cursing herself for being so obvious. “It’s dumb. You don’t even know him.” 

Ray nods slowly, pretending to believe her. Julie goes after the pot a little harder, because maybe if she just finishes the dishes she can go upstairs and bury herself in her bed and not have to have this conversation anymore. “It’s not that guitarist, is it?” he asks, and her spine goes stiff as a ramrod. Ray’s her dad, but he’s not blind. He’s seen the way they look at each other when they perform, the way the boy follows her around the stage like a puppy, desperate for her attention, disappointed when she jams with the other members of their band and not him. He’s an excellent musician, but Ray knows too many stories of near-legends gone sour with misdirected young love. 

“No!” Julie cries immediately in an obvious lie. “Of course not!” She turns, half-laughing, explanations falling out of her mouth “We’re just friends,” she insists, lacing her fingers in front of her and nodding exaggeratedly. “Just friends. Only friends. Uh-huh. Friends. And!” she continues, gesturing widely, “he doesn’t even live here! So that… wouldn’t even make sense!” she laughs awkwardly. “So no way. That it’s him. No way it’s him.” 

Ray sighs out a laugh that Julie’s too panicked to hear and leans forward on his elbows. “Alright, nina. Just be careful, okay?” She’s nodding along, edging her way towards the stairs. “You and your band…” She looks like Rose, in that hoodie that practically swallows her, hair piled messily on top of her head. Her mom was also a terrible liar, he remembers fondly. “You have something special. Don’t throw that away for a boy.” 

Julie nods rapidly and then bolts, thundering up the stairs before throwing her bedroom door closed behind her and diving headfirst onto her bed, burying herself in decorative pillows. How does everyone  know?? First Flynn and then Reggie and Alex and now her dad? Is she that obvious? (Um, yes.) She flops onto her back, staring up at the colorful tapestries slung across her ceiling, the string lights and posters and art. Usually, she loves her room, the feeling of her creative mind as a space she can inhabit, exploring her heart and the things she loves without having to shut out the outside world. But tonight, she feels trapped in her own head, so she grabs her notebook and squeezes out the window, perched on the roof outside her room. 

The evening air is cool and crisp, the gentlest bite warning the oncoming winter, as much as there is a winter in LA. She spends a while scribbling down half-baked lyric ideas and doodling angry black scribbles around the edges of the pages when nothing comes out right. It’s harder to write on her own, now, without the steady pulse of Luke’s genius behind her, the electricity that flows between them as they create impeccable harmonies. Sometimes, it feels like music belongs to the both of them together, a joined force, like they’ve given up their individual melodies for something greater. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

Eventually, she just ends up holding the notebook open to ‘Perfect Harmony’ with one hand, the other arm wrapped around her legs, her chin propped on her knees. She still hasn’t shown it to Luke, afraid of how real it feels, how clear it makes her feelings for him. Also, it’s a ballad, which they haven’t even approached yet, and she has no idea how Reggie and Alex will feel about such an explicitly romantic duet. She’s thinking that maybe she might be able to vague it up, maybe even make it a solo piece, when Luke appears next to her, like thinking about him draws him to her. (Which might actually be true -- she hasn’t examined that very closely.) 

“Hey!” he says cheerfully, all awkwardness from the evening’s rehearsal ostensibly disappeared. He plucks the notebook out of her hand, using the other arm to hold back her immediate demands for its return. “New stuff?” he asks. This is not normally such a grievous invasion of privacy. Ever since they started writing together, their songwriting journals have become common property, and half the pages in hers are marked up with his handwriting and vice versa. 

“It’s not ready yet!” she cries, pushing against the (stupidly strong) arm he has across her collarbone, willing to climb bodily over him to snatch the notebook back. Luke’s face very slowly falls as he reads it, the lyrics sinking in, and her protests trail off as she stops scrambling to grab it out of his hands. 

He stands suddenly, pacing across the roof. “Did you --” he starts, breathing shallowly, his tongue tucking his teeth between his lips, nostrils flaring before he speaks again. “Why did you copy this out of my songbook?” It’s not accusatory, only a question, born of true confusion. 

“I didn’t,” Julie replies without skipping a beat, equally baffled. 

“I wrote this after the garage party,” he says. “How is it in your notebook?” 

“I wrote it at school before the garage party,” she replies, doing her best to keep down the memory of the Luke in her imagination and the song coming to her fully formed in the form of a Patrick Swayze-esque daydream. She didn’t even tell Flynn about that part. 

“At school…” Luke repeats, studying the lyrics with a furrow between his eyebrows, and as much as Julie is also reeling from shock at the mystery, it’s kind of adorable to watch him try and solve it. “This doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking up at her, signature grumpy expression in place. He tilts the notebook flat, like he’s presenting it to her, hoping she has the next steps. Like he’s reached his conclusion, and it’s that he’s confused. 

“It doesn’t,” she says, and it comes out as half a laugh unintentionally, just looking at his ridiculous, adorable face. 

“Why are you laughing?” he demands with exasperated urgency. “This is super weird!” He rushes over and collapses next to her, a mess of flannel and limbs and beautiful dumbass. He shoves the notebook back into her hands as she folds her legs underneath her, relinquishing her grip on her knees. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, unable to wipe the grin from her face. “Yeah, it is.” Luke looks like he wants to ask her what she’s smiling at, but then he starts smiling, too, because her happiness is his happiness. Julie’s already past the strange coincidence, lost in the joy of his gray-green eyes and the feeling of him next to her. She’s too used to strange, to the ever-changing rules of the afterlife and the constant uncertainty that Luke and her boys bring to her life. Yes, it’s strange, but she’s in a ghost band and her crush is dead and still manages to look at her like that so she has a certain level of perspective when it comes to things like this. 

“What are you --” Luke tries to say, but her eyes are on his and they’re warm and brown and kind and he’s finding it a little hard to form sentences. 

“This is ridiculous,” she says, and he’s nodding without knowing what he’s agreeing to. “We wrote the same song on the same day,” she laughs, and he nods again, half-listening, half lost in her. She’s excited now, about the possibility brought on by magic and her connection -- their  connection -- souls tied together with passion and music and love. “That’s impossible!” It cements something for her, the feeling of coming together, of sliding into place. They’re so solid, tight, together, on the same wavelength… musicians have put it a thousand ways throughout the years, to communicate the feeling of a co-writer, a bandmate, a partner, reading your mind, singing the next line, playing the next riff that was just in your head. Julie and Luke get the added bonus of being inexplicably spiritually linked. Nothing can break that, or replace it. She’s not scared of it, anymore. 

“Impossible,” he echoes. He always feels a little bit stronger, a little more alive whenever he’s with Julie like this, just the two of them, hanging out or writing music, and he’s in her immediate proximity, soaking in the warmth of her brown skin and brown eyes and the chaotic energy of her wild, incredible hair. She pulls him in, without knowing the power she holds or the light that she emits, casting a golden glow over everything around her. 

“Luke,” she says, and he tunes back in, realizing that he’s steadily leaning toward her as they sit on the roof, Julie cross-legged, Luke angled toward her, one leg stretched out, his elbow propped on his other knee. “Are you listening?” 

“Um,” he swallows, “Yeah?” but he’s looking at her lips, not her eyes, and he’s thinking about kissing her, just once, just to see what she tastes like, remembering the smell of gummies and m&ms, hoping she’ll be just as sweet. She doesn’t say anything, mostly because she forgot what she was going to say in the first place, watching his eyes watch her mouth, breathing him in. He’s too close again, closer than any friend or bandmate should be, and there’s no mic between them, and the door to her room is closed, and there’s no bandmates or brothers or dads, and her heart pounds in her chest. 

When she tilts her chin towards him, she feels ready, finally, knowing what he means to her. Only a breath separates them, but they both stop, waiting for the inevitable interruption, the door slamming open, or someone calling up from the yard below, but it doesn’t come. Realizing what they’re both waiting for, they breathe out a simultaneous laugh, their foreheads dropping together. The tension fades, and Julie’s smile feels uncontainable, demanding every inch of her face as this beautiful, goofy, genus, talented boy adores her while she sits there, falling in love with him. 

It’s easier, this moment, than the one before, because it feels less laden with the weight of someone pulling away, unsure or unwanting. This moment is comfortable, joyful, the two of them acknowledging every minute of want and disappointment and hilarious misfortune over the past few days, acknowledging what they would have asked for instead. And when Luke finally reaches up, pulling her in gently with his hand on her neck, his thumb sliding over her jaw, it’s with confidence and tenderness, reassured that she wants this, too. Julie leans easily into the touch, and when their lips meet, the spark and rush is better than any performance, any screaming crowd drowning in lights. They kiss each other, moving together, leaning in as one, harmony made in the movement of mouths and the press of lips, and this moment -- it’s perfect. 

❄️ for claudia and alex!!!!!! bc i stan

Title: A Partnership Who: Claudia Daviau (Reeves in this, I guess?) / Alex ReevesRating: PGNotes: This is like in an AU where they get married when they don’t know each other. Alex needed a wife to look good to public and Claudia was about to go to jail for killing a man (lol she be like that in this verse). They really don’t get along and Alex’s aro/ace ass just doesn’t seem into her. Claudia wants to make things work though so she’s gonna make her case. 

It was done as a favor. He scratched her back by making sure she didn’t go to jail for manslaughter, and she married him to make him look normal for the press. She got freedom, and he got an opportunity to move forward with his goals. At first, Claudia was fine with the arrangement. He seemed nice when they first spoke and like someone she could get along with. Attractive, so she she didn’t find it awful to pretend being his doting wife. But after living with him for around a week, she discovered that he wasn’t like any of the other men she had ever been with. He didn’t seem interested in her at all, and always moved away or pushed her away when she made advances toward him. She’d touch his arm in greeting and he’d jerk back, or he’d come home and she’d be friendly and hug him and he’d push her away. Then, when she wore something revealing and tried to flaunt it in order to see if that would work better at getting attention, he seemed unfazed. 

Like recently, she had worn a short sexy Santa Claus dress that hugged at all of her curves and had bent over to fix the magazines on the coffee table, hoping to see his eyes linger, but instead of getting a reaction from him he just told her to move out of the way because he was watching television and it was at the good part. It was frustrating to her. She was used to being seen as the beautiful woman that everyone wanted. She was used to eyes lingering on her and people hanging onto every single word that she said because she was easy on the eyes. She wasn’t used to being ignored or seen as unattractive. This was new to her and she didn’t like it at all and really didn’t know how to deal with it. She was the type of person who liked to be liked and admired. She ate up attention and craved it.  

It also didn’t help that the house she now lived in wasn’t a place she picked out. It was his place before she moved in and she didn’t really feel like her home. She had moved some of her stuff into it, but not everything, because there wasn’t enough room for her, even though she had taken his guest room as her room. She felt like she was intruding and that she was an uninvited guest. It didn’t feel like her place at all, and she wasn’t really sure how Alex would react if she said she wanted to redecorate a little. 

She wish it felt like a home, that way she wouldn’t be bothered by how lonely she felt. It was strange to live with someone and not know what they wanted and she had no idea how to ask, or if she should ask. But she wanted to bond with him somehow, and she thought Christmas dinner would be a great way to do that. 

So as he typed away on his laptop in the living room, she picked it up from his lap, and the placed a plate of ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, and green beans there. He gave her a puzzled look when she did that, and then he rubbed at the top of his nose with his fingers - possibly in frustration. Claudia thought he wasn’t going to tell her that he wasn’t hungry, but then he began to eat and she beamed at him. “It’s good, isn’t it?” she asked eagerly, wanting to hear him compliment her food, since part of the reason she ever cooked for anyone was so they could compliment it. 

“It is,” he said, but he didn’t say more than that. He kept quiet and chewed, and she watched him curiously.

She was waiting for him to say more, but when he didn’t, she spoke. “My nanny used to make us the same thing every year for Chrismukkah, so I basically started doing the same thing the older I got. I thought - well - that it would be pretty dumb to mess up a good thing, so I just kept with tradition.” Which was true. Her nanny Delphine was Jewish and celebrated different holidays from the Daviaus, but somehow she always made things work in both her and the family’s favor. 

His eyebrow raised, and he said, “Uh-huh,” but nothing else. He did keep his eyes on her when she spoke though, so she wasn’t offended by his short response. 

“But I did have something I wanted to talk to you about that doesn’t involve food.” She cut up her food as she spoke, but then looked up at him to make sure he was paying attention to what she was saying and hadn’t grabbed the laptop back. 

He was quiet for a moment, but then he replied with, “Go for it.” After speaking, he took another bite of his food. 

“I’m unhappy and wanted to know if I can do more for this senate race thing?” she asked, his eyebrow lifting as she spoke. “I’m highly intelligent and I feel like it’s such a waste for me to simply be used as an accessory in all of this. I want to do more and I want this to be a partnership.” He cleared his throat, but he surprisingly didn’t walk away. “I’m pretty sure you don’t like me because you avoid me like the plague, but I could still benefit you in all of this and it would make me much happier to be involved.” 

“Never said I didn’t like you,” he said quickly, sighing as though he prefered to keep his mouth shut. 

That statement made her smile a little, but not too much. “Well, I think we should speak more. We don’t have to have long-winded conversations, but when you asked me to get involved in all of this I expected to at the very least get along with you. I don’t have very many friends after the trial and the women in this neighborhood are awful.” She frowned. “I don’t think that’s asking for much, but if I have kiss you in public or hold your hand, I have to get to know you a little more because it’s uncomfortable for me.” 

Alex nodded his head, but didn’t say anything other than a simple, “Okay.” His expression made it seem like he was thinking things through, but he never said what, which caused her to furrow in her brows a little bit. “...But I do get busy.”“Which I understand, but five minutes of your day shouldn’t be an issue,” she said, her tone a little feistier than before. “I want this to work, but it won’t if you put no effort into it and expect me to just walk around as a trophy wife. I am and will always be better and more than that.” She finally took a bite of her food and then swallowed, standing up to pour herself some wine. “Anyways, merry Christmas...enjoy the food. I’m going to go and eat while watching television, and then I’m going to bed.”

@ravenpuff-writes @leiaskywclker  

belonging, ch1 (kink week day 1)

Heeeeeeey there!  So I wanted to write a chaptered fic for @ffxv-kink-week​ but then I ran out of time, but then, I wanted to do it anyway, so I started writing a sequel to my other D/s-verse fic heart and soul.  If you haven’t read that one, all you need to know for this is that it’s D/s-verse, Noct is a dom, and Iggy and Gladio are his collared subs.  Once I get a bit farther along I’ll start posting to AO3, but for now, here it is on tumblr!  For the kink week day 1 prompt of authority kinks.

Title: belonging  Pairings: Noctis/Prompto, Noctis/Ignis/Gladio, eventual OT4  Rating: Explicit  Words: ~2300 Warnings: none, at least none in this chapter

Teaser: Prompto taps his phone, rewinding the clip to the beginning to play again. Bless IBC for always putting news clips online right away, because after watching the live feed of the Kingsglaive swearing-in ceremony Prompto immediately wanted to watch it again.  And again.  And again, and okay, maybe he's got one hand in his pants while he's watching it but Noct looks so good all dressed up.

"It'll be the exhibition match on Thursday afternoon, then the swearing-in ceremony Friday evening, then the banquet right after," Ignis says, thumbing through email on his phone as he pulls on his clothes. "Gladio, I assume you'll have His Highness in top form for the exhibition?"

"'Course I will. He's been training with the Glaives for the last couple weeks, right Noct?" Gladio prods Noctis with the ball of his foot, and Noctis swats him away.

Laying back on the pillows, Noctis says, "As long as I don't have to go against Nyx I'll be fine. That guy could kick Gladio's ass."

"Yes, well. I'm sure he'd let you win for show anyway," Ignis replies as he buttons up his shirt.

"I don't want to win for show -- that wouldn't help with the whole filling-in-for-my-dad in the ceremony. People already think I'm too young, or too weak, or too . . . whatever."

Ignis sits on the bed next to him, setting a hand on Noct's knee through the blanket. "Don't worry about what they think. You're going to do just fine."

"You think so?"

Ignis leans in and kisses him, soft and light. "I know so."

*

The exhibition is in the courtyard, with bleachers erected on both sides. Gladio eyes the crowd briefly, then turns to survey the arena. "Don't forget the Glaives can warp just as well as you can," he murmurs in Noct's ear. "You can't just warp out of the way and think you'll be able to hang out and catch your breath."

"Right," Noctis says, and Gladio can read his nerves in his tone of voice.

"You're fast, and you're flexible. The magic is yours, it's not borrowed. If you want to swap weapons you can probably do it faster than they can. Don't forget to watch your back, and watch your left side -- they probably know you're a little weaker there."

"Got it." Noctis is clenching and unclenching his hands, like he's ready to pull his blade from the ether, but his eyes are still darting around the crowd. Gladio steps in front of him to block his view, forcing Noctis to look up at him.

"You got this," he says. "Even if you lose, you're gonna put up a good fight and show 'em what you can do."

Noctis takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out. "Thanks," he says, and Gladio claps him on the shoulder.

In the middle of the arena, Drautos raises his arm and the crowd falls quiet. "Ladies, Gentlemen . . . new recruits," he says expansively, "thank you all for coming. Today we'll see a demonstration of the power of the Crystal, and the power of the Kingsglaive. His Royal Highness Prince Noctis will battle one of our fiercest warriors." Noctis takes another breath, and Gladio can see his public mask settle into place. He walks out into the arena, smiling and waving.

"Now," Drautos says, "let us see who his opponent shall be."

An assistant brings out a bowl full of scraps of paper and holds it out to Noctis, who reaches in and selects one. Noctis looks at the paper for a moment, his face carefully blank, then announces, "Nyx Ulric." Shit.

The audience bursts into applause and Nyx takes the field, grinning. Drautos backs away to the sidelines, and Noctis summons his Engine Blade in a shower of sparks. Nyx makes the first move, throwing his short blade and warping straight for Noctis. Noctis phases through the attack, then swings hard, nearly connecting before Nyx warps away again.

To a layman, what follows is just a blur of blue sparks and phase shadows, clashing blades and flying kicks. To Gladio, it's Noctis putting in his best effort and having it be just enough to keep him on his feet, barely dodging each of Nyx's attacks. Their weapons clash together a few times, but the fight is mostly a series of fast warps as the two of them flicker from one end of the arena to the other.

Noctis throws his sword up so it rams into a high post, warping to hang from it briefly, then as Nyx starts to follow him, Noctis yanks the sword from the post, lets it dissolve back into the ether, and pulls out a javelin instead. He throws, warps, executes a mid-air backflip, and dives down toward Nyx with the javelin in his hand. For a moment, Gladio's breath catches as he thinks Noctis might just pull this off.

But then, Nyx throws up a crystalline shield, and Noct's attack is blocked entirely. Before his feet hit the ground, Nyx drops the shield and swings, his blade slicing into Noct's arm.

"First blood to Ulric!" Drautos calls. Both men drop their weapons and step back, breathing hard. Gladio's heart is in his throat, waiting to see how Noctis will take his loss. But Noctis ignores the blood running down his arm and turns to Nyx with a smile. Nyx executes a perfect bow, and when he rises, Noctis extends a hand to him, which Nyx clasps firmly.

"Lucis is honored by your skill," Noctis says, loud enough to carry to the crowd. "May all the new recruits grow as strong as you."

"The honor is mine, Your Highness," Nyx replies, appropriately deferential like he never is in training.

Drautos reminds everyone of the ceremony to be held the next day, and the crowd begins to file out as a page brings a potion to heal Noct's arm. By the time Gladio gets to his side, any sign of the injury is gone.

Noctis keeps his polite smile on until they're alone in the locker room, then sinks onto the bench with a groan. "Damn it," he says, slamming his fist into his thigh, "why did it have to be Nyx?"

"Hey, that aerial attack with the javelin was quick thinking," Gladio says, tossing Noctis a towel. "You did good."

"I got my ass handed to me," Noctis grouses.

"But you did it well. Iggy's gonna be proud of you for how you handled that."

"I'm supposed to swear in the new recruits tomorrow but all they're gonna be thinking is, 'Why should we swear our allegiance to this kid?' Ugh. Remind me why Dad can't do this again?"

Gladio sighs. "His Majesty is tied up with the ambassador from Accordo. You know that."

"Ugh," Noctis says again, slamming the door to the shower stall on his way in.

*

Noctis is still fuming when he flops into his bed after dinner. Ignis and Gladio have gone home, since Noctis is too tired and cranky to be good company despite Ignis's best efforts. Spending the night alone isn't unusual -- Gladio only stays over rarely, and Ignis often prefers an earlier bedtime and can't sleep with Noctis still awake. Some day, Noctis will get a place with enough bedrooms for all of them to be comfortable, but in the meantime this works well enough.

He rolls onto his back and flings an arm over his eyes. His mind keeps replaying the fight, searching for everywhere he could have done something differently. Of course now that it's over he can easily see a hundred opportunities he missed, but it's too late now.

His phone chimes and he groans and wrestles it out of the pocket of his jeans.

Hey buddy, the text from Prompto says, saw a clip of your fight w glaive, those moves were awesome!

Noctis's face does something between a smile and a grimace. Nyx kicked my ass, he types back.

[Prompto] u kidding bro he's like the biggest war hero and ur 18 of course he did [Prompto] u looked awesome tho, flipping around and stuff [Prompto] flexible ~.~

He laughs at that, imagining the way Prompto is probably wiggling his eyebrows, and types back, lol u make it sound way sexier than it was.

The return message comes right away: ur always sexy. Noctis can't help the little thrill that runs through him; Prompto has been dropping hints that he's interested for a while now, but he always backtracks before making anything clear, leaving Noctis to wonder whether he ever really meant it at all. Speaking of which . . .

[Prompto] I mean [Prompto] the whole royal authority thing, bet it really works for you w Iggy and Gladio

Noctis types out does it work for you? but then hesitates over the send button and ends up erasing it.

[Noctis] guess so [Noctis] sometimes I just want to be me

He sighs, thinking of the royal duties waiting for him in the morning.

[Noctis] gotta do the swearing in ceremony tomorrow bc dad is busy [Noctis] rather be playing kings knight w you

[Prompto] the night is young, and your phone is already in your hand

Noctis grins and opens the app.

*

The ceremony is held in the throne room, with the recruits lined up in formation and Noctis standing in front of the throne. He holds himself tall, and nobody would know that only minutes before Ignis was adjusting the drape of his cape and fixing his tie and cufflinks while Noctis frantically repeated his speech over and over.

"On behalf of my father, the king, I welcome you all to the Kingsglaive. Today you join the ranks of Lucis's most elite warriors, and begin your service to the people and the Crown." Noctis's voice is strong, and Ignis sees a hint of his father in the tilt of his chin. He hesitates for a barely detectable moment, then says, "Are you ready to pledge your loyalty?"

As one, the recruits fall to their knees and bow their heads, a hush falling over the room as Noctis descends the stairs. He approaches the first recruit and lays his hand on the back of her head. "I give myself in service to the Crown and the Crystal," she says, "and pledge to use the power granted to me to protect the people of Lucis."

"Do you give your life to the Crown?" Noctis asks. Normally, with Regis performing the ceremony, the line would be, do you give your life to me? but Noctis had felt it would be disingenuous, and Ignis finds he rather agrees.

"I do."

His hand slides around the side of her head and cups her chin, lifting her face. "Then rise, and join the ranks of the Kingsglaive." The recruit stands, and Ignis can see the shine in her eyes as she rises. Noctis smiles at her before moving on to the next recruit. The ceremony is repeated for the whole group, Noctis receiving one oath after another, until they're all standing.

As the audience bursts into applause, Noctis ascends the stairs again. When he reaches the throne, he materializes his sword and swings it high above his head, then spins it in a flashy circle and slams the point down into the floor in front of him, in the crack left there by this very same ceremony in the past. "The Crystal welcomes you, as do the people of Lucis," he says strongly, and the newly minted Glaives cross their fists over their chests and bow.

The applause is thunderous, and when it finally starts to die down, Noctis banishes his sword and makes his way down the stairs. Ignis meets him at the bottom as the recruits and the audience begin to file out of the chamber. "Well done, Your Highness," he says.

"You think so? My sword has nothing on Dad's armiger."

"You saw the look in the recruits' eyes. They were proud to be swearing their loyalty to you."

"To my dad," Noctis corrects.

"It may have been him in intent, but it was you in practice. I remember swearing my own oath of loyalty to you, you know."

Noctis laughs. "You mean when we were kids?"

"We may have been children, but I've always taken it seriously."

Looking at him with a small smile playing at his lips, Noctis says, "Me too."

"Well then," Ignis says, "I believe the banquet is ready to begin."

*

Prompto taps his phone, rewinding the clip to the beginning to play again. Bless IBC for always putting news clips online right away, because after watching the live feed of the glaive swearing-in ceremony Prompto immediately wanted to watch it again.

And again.

And again, and okay, maybe he's got one hand in his pants while he's watching it but Noct looks so good all dressed up. Even the ridiculous cape lends him an air of authority.

Are you ready to pledge your loyalty? Noct asks in the video, and Prompto's hand tightens on his cock. There was a time when he hesitated to jerk off to photos and videos of his friend, but these days he's accepted the fact that his feelings aren't going away any time soon and he can still be a good friend to Noct despite wanting to suck down his dick until he chokes.

Do you give your life to the Crown? Noct asks, and Prompto breathes, "I do," as he jerks himself faster. The clip is almost to the end, and he bites his lip as Noct ascends the stairs, then gasps, "fuck, fuck, fuck," when Noct materializes a sword and swings it around his head. He comes as the sword slams into the ground, the camera catching the steely glint in Noct's blue eyes, the hard set of his mouth, the perfect fall of hair over his forehead. He looks like a king, and Prompto would gladly lay down his life for him.

As the clip finishes, he pushes weakly at his pants, shoving them down to keep them out of the mess. He doesn't feel guilty for jerking off to Noct, but sometimes he feels guilty for how much he likes it when Noct acts like the royalty he is, because he's still got the texts on his phone saying sometimes I just want to be me.

Be My Druidess

Title: Be My Druidess

Warnings: ddlg rough vampire sex ; vvv sexual type o negative song ; crude language

Rating: Basically an NC17 bc of the song and sex

Author: me, another oc oh hecks yes

Yes, this is adult content, you have been warned. *this can also be found in my oneshots collection on Wattpad*

https://my.w.tt/UiNb/eI0kLiBSkH

Summary: ""So this is how you wanted to spend our Halloween," Phil stated, stepping up to his lover, admiring the short skirt he wore, a long black tail hanging out from under it."

Word Count: 1848 (before edit)

quick a/n: the song is also where the vampire au idea came from. also am following the Anne Rice rules of being a vampire minus one or two liberties i took for the sake of this fic. enjoy!

~*~*~

"Maybe this year we don't go out for Halloween," Dan suggested, gazing across the table at his longtime boyfriend, "to feed - if we need to - but this year maybe let's celebrate at home?"

"Halloween is your favourite, babe, what's changed your mind?" Phil questioned, raising an eyebrow at Dan.

"I don't know - I wanna have some fun with you at home this year," Dan vaguely answered, chewing on this thumbnail with his fang.

"It's the one time of year we don't have to dress up to leave, don't you want to go shopping in freedom?" Phil asked gently, curious as to what was going on in his lover's mind.

"I was thinking of celebrating it being 5 years since you turned me," Dan whispered softly, barely audible to human ear but Phil heard it clearly.

"Well, whatever you wanna do I'm down with, Princess," Phil replied, getting up from the table to head to his room, ruffling Dan's curls as he walked away.

~*Fast forward to Halloween night*~

"Phhiiillll," Dan called from across the apartment, adjusting his cat ears on his head as he waited for Phil to come.

"Coming!" Phil answered quickly, shutting his laptop and meandering his way to Dan's room, hearing loud, dark music coming from within.

"Yeah, babe?" Phil called softly, knowing Dan's supernatural hearing picked it up over the music.

"Join me," Dan purred back, swaying his hips in time to the song, his kitty cat Halloween costume leaving very little to the imagination.

"So this is how you wanted to spend our Halloween," Phil stated, stepping up to his lover, admiring the short skirt he wore, a long black tail hanging out from under it.

Be my druidess Be my everything Be my druidess Be mine

The music blasted through the room, the heavy distorted bass shaking the items around the speakers.

Phil watched Dan's thin hips sway to the beat, his own hands finding their way to rest on Dan's hipbones as he held tight to them, swaying with him from behind.

Around the pyre, a circle of thirteen Throughout these woods, ecstatic screams

"Oh Princess, I'll make you scream tonight," Phil purred into Dan's ear in response to the lyric they just heard.

Dan shivered softly at Phil's words, turning around to face Phil, bringing his teeth to graze over Phil's earlobe.

"Please, Sir," he mumbled into Phil's ear, bringing his lips to Phil's neck, sucking lightly on the cold, pale skin.

Now we'll make love by fire light, A blaze so high it lights the night.

Phil tightened his hands on Dan's hips, tight enough to bruise if their skin still could. He grazed his fingernails along Dan's skin, letting go of his hips to drop his hands to Dan's ass, squeezing and groping at it.

Dan moaned ever so softly against Phil's neck, slipping his hands up under the older man's shirt, bother by how overdressed he was.

Phil noticed what Dan was doing and quickly assisted him in getting the shirt off, tossing it aside to be dealt with later. Once free from his shirt, he brought his hand down to Dan's black collar, tugging on it to pull Dan in for a heated kiss.

Dan kissed Phil back excitedly, leaning into the sturdier vampire knowing he could handle the weight.

Long fingernails dug in my skin, Yourself so wet invites me in.

Phil reached his hands down, tugging up Dan's tiny skirt to expose his bare ass, smirking into the kiss as he took note he wasn't wearing any panties tonight.

"Look at you," Phil mumbled against Dan's lips, "all stretched and ready for me," he noted, gently pushing on the tail, knowing full well it was also a butt plug.

Dan whimpered softly as the plug prodded deeper inside of him, "I didn't want to waste any time, I just want you," he half begged, pushing his hips forward to press his half-hard cock to Phil's thigh.

Phil sang along in Dan's ear to the next verse as he guided Dan towards the bed.

Be my druidess Be my everything Be my druidess Be mine

"I'm all yours, Daddy," Dan purred as he fell back onto the bed, pulling Phil down on top of him.

He connected his lips to Phil's, kissing the older vampire hungrily. He grazed his nails down Phil's cold, pale torso to his jeans, making quick work to umdo and push them down as far as he could reach, making sure to get his boxers down with them.

Our lust increase feeds desire, As we combust, yeah we on fire.

Phil ground his now-bare hardening cock against Dan's, both men moaning softly into the other's mouth at the delicious friction Phil had created.

Phil pulled away gently, trailing his mouth down Dan's neck, nibbling on the soft, pale skin. He pauses a moment to lick along the only scars left on his body: the bites Phil left in Dan's skin to turn his lover.

Dan gasped loudly into a loud moan, his neck even more sensitive than it was when human. He squirmed slightly under Phil, aching for more.

"Please, Daddy," he begged softly, bucking his hips up gently as he searched for more friction.

"Soon, Princess," Phil soothed, reaching a hand down to Dan's tail, grabbing at it's base to pull it out gently.

I feel you shake so deep inside Oh scream my name and hold me tight.

Dan didn't even have time to feel empty as Phil replaced the plug with his long fingers, curling them up and searching around for Dan's prostate.

Dan let out a soft cry when it was found, pure pleasure shooting through every cell in his body.

"Daddy please I want to feel you inside me," Dan begged softly, pushing his hips down on Phil's fingers.

Be my druidess Be my everything Be my druidess Be mine

Phil smirked softly as he pulled his fingers out of Dan, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as the small boy whimered under him.

He gracefully reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the half full bottle of lube he left out from their last time.

Dan sat up, grabbing the bottle out of Phil's hands and pouring a generous amount into his own hand. Using that hand he spread the lube all over Phil's hard cock, flicking his thumb over the slit every few pumps.

I'll do anything To make you cum, I'll do anything To make you...

Dan smirked wildly as he laid back down, wrapping his legs around Phil's waist.

Phil lined himself up with Dan's entrance, pushing in slowly. After he bottomed out, he paused a moment, giving Dan a moment to adjust.

Dan moaned loudly, giving a nod to Phil, silently telling him to get moving.

Phil dropped his hands on either side of Dan's small shoulders as he began pouding into his lover.

I'll do anything To make you cum, I'll do anything To make you...

"I want you to cum untouched tonight, Princess," Phil purred right into Dan's ear, "can you do that for me?"

Dan nodded quickly as he moaned out loudly, unable to form words as Phil's cock hit on his prostate with every thrust.

"God, look at you. Wrecked already and we've barely started," Phil spoke, knowing Dan was a slut for his dirty talk, "and in this lovely little skirt, too, how beautiful."

Dan moand loudly, his eyes squeezed shut as he raked his nails up and down Phil's back, looking for something to hold onto as Phil pounded into him.

I'll do anything To make you cum, I'll do anything To make you...

Phil sucked hard at Dan's neck, moaning loudly as Dan scratched at his back. He felt the familiar warmth pool in his lower abdomen, signalling the end was drawing near but he wanted Dan to come first tonight.

"Come on babyboy, cum for Daddy," Phil purred against Dan's neck, "cum untouched for me."

Dan opened his eyes to reveal his lust blown pupils surrounded by glowing brown irises. His eyes met with Phil, the glowing blue irises barely visible under the lust blown pupils.

"God you're a beautiful creature," Dan purred as his last coherent thought before he was overwhelmed with pleasure. He cried out, his vision going white as he came hard under Phil, covering their bare torsos with white sticky fluid.

Phil moaned loud, Dan clenching around him as he came, causing him to let go and cum with his lover.

I'll do anything To make you cum, I'll do anything To make you...

Phil rode out his high with the end of the song, thrusting into his lover a few more times before pulling out, collapsing down next to Dan.

He gave himself thirty seconds to gaze at and appreciate his lover next to him before he got up off the bed, dashing to the bathroom to retrieve a cool, damp towel.

Dan laid still on the bed after slipping deep into subspace. He listened for Phil around the room as the next track began to play, waiting for the after care he knew was coming.

"You did so well, baby," Phil cooed softly as he sat down on the bed next to Dan, wiping up Dan's torso with the rag, "so good for Daddy," he added, kissing on the tip of Dan's nose.

"Thank tou Daddy," Dan whispered back, his body fully relaxed under Phil's touch, letting himself be cleaned up.

Phil made quick work of cleaning the slowly drying cum off the two of them. He tossed the towel in the hamper when done and retrieved two pairs of boxers from Dan's drawer.

He slid Dan's skirt off of him, tossing it aside before he slid the boxers onto Dan.

Dan gave him a small smile in return, silently thanking him for the after care.

Dan waited for Phil to have his boxers on before he sat up, reaching out for Phil.

Phil chuckled softly as he sat down on the bed next to Dan, snaking his long arms around the slightly smaller vampire before pulling them both down, holding Dan as his small spoon.

"That was a pretty wonderful celebration," Dan said with a smile.

"That was also a wonderful Halloween costume," Phil laughed as he reached for the cat ears that somehow managed to stay on.

"I thought you'd love it. I'll have to dress like that more often if I get sex from you out of it," Dan laughed back, fiddling with the collar he still had on.

Phil rolled his eyes playfully, "i'd fuck you anyways, you spoon, those outfits are just a bonus."

"Happy Halloween, Daddy," Dan sang softly to the tune of the track playing through the room.

"I love you, Dan," Phil said with a smile.

"I love you too, Phil. Now let's rest - it's getting light out," Dan replied, noticing the light creeping in through the blinds.

And with that, the two forever-young vampires fell what we would call asleep tangled in each others arms.

Dont freak out, itss just writing

i grew up fast (so fast) (too quick nigga) (wish i went through when i was just a bit bigger) can you tell me who the parent is uh ya the first time i drove a whip i was a fuckin kid, (96 suburban nigga) (yo yo, did you tell em why) oh ya shit my fault my mom was bleeding from her chin i dont know what from or what about, scared to death i took that drive to the ER (Medical SHIIIT) (mom got too drunk again and feel out) (wheres dad? in his room his doors locked, figures i dont expect, as i try to knock (no answer nigga) i dont blame em he removes himself from the sitiation so he dont hit her) ya i fucking grew quick, ya i fucking tryed some shit, the first time i dropped out and took some shroomies i was age 6 plus 6, thats 12 for the illiterates, actually aas a matter a fact it was fuckin pleasant as fuck as i drew back the droe and took another hit. now that i think that was the day, older brother came and gave me cig i obliged no way to say nay, i was still trippin and it was a sensational feelin, it left me stumblin and dizzy a head rush like no other i was hooked for live to the day and i dont blame him, i dont think he knew what he had started, adding to the compilation of the monsxter inside that took refuge and started, poison in his mind, the drugs altered his brain activity but he was buckled up and commited to the ride.Shit i just said in third person let me apologize to yall sometimes the ideas flow together like two fortune five mergin, these feels of hate be strong ya im hurtin, i cant blame no one, i cant choose the family i was birthed in, started sniffin ups felt my blood surgin, gotta big head but my nemisis, the evil inside myself was bigger aboutt the size of a white sturgeon, like some northern ish that canadain shit like british columbia or somethin idk, alls i can say is that BC bud out that bitch is my fav to blow, the sour D, diesel to be exact for you niggas who waana try to nit pick or correct my personal facts, let me just speak at you,  all the hatin niggas tryin bring me down, bad news, i do drugs like steve from fuckin blues clues, but my rents always on time when that xshits due, any ways i side tracked speaking of tracks just lined some shit up did with speed did with need i did it with tact, im dextrous and shit i always have a unique train of thought oh shit trains again trains derailed at this point hhaaha i crack myself up sometimes with the wit in my words leh-let you in on the pun so you can join in my fun, about the lines the lines are no more you didn arrive in time i promise these raps have rhythm they have rhyme i aint spittin to waste your time, i aint spittin to catch a dime, bag or bitch, it really dont matter, niether last long but they are still my niche, come here bitch come hit this shit, this time dont have a fit, mind over matter just stick yuh nose in these rails sit down for a bit, drink some wata, go to your happy place we are gettin to old for me to have tote on yuh just from hitten lines but i put up wit it, you got that 50 thou boat on yuh, not to mention your ride, that shit is so sweet i cant decidddee which id rather seed, as in inseminate with my seaman as i play the part as a seaman workin for seimans on a marine voyage i aint like you im a higher being, i dont know whatchu talkin whatch your eyes be seein i am a divine heathan i really cant fucking believe a niggas still breathin im a florida boy born and raised, i sit the fuck back drink my beer in the shade, high as i usually am a rinny tin tin rinscotts tale \down the rintin like a shark fin poatched by commercial fisherman thrown in a bin, no regard for life the human race is so greedy, people just aint my type, say what you want i know me best and i know im right. my creative talents on the other hand be outta sight, im my own worst enemy to cross the bridge pay the fee, trollin in the hood for that g, withdrawin, shakin i drop to my knee look up to the sky ask god if he sees. hear the sound of humming, huh must be bees, or im trippin out maybe its a flash back i dont remmember. whats th-this street, tremblin think my heat skipped a bit, or a couple shakinso bad my knes begin to buckle, anxiety can be dibilatated held me back from so much in life thers no debating. unfamiliar route. made it to this bar ordered a stout got to thinking, you may ask what about, this is why i like solitude to be on my own to answer to noone to depend on myself and live it to the fullest while im yung, my mind will reel, replaying all i know every single memory, that im capable of bringing back, i compare my brain to a file cabinet, i keep it hidden like in an office towards the back. A photographic memory is a gift and a curse, ill tell you whatat, if you dont keep it in check you will end up in a herse, sure you can remember the happy shit the good things in your life but you cant fucking forget the huge hits the fucking bad bitch the one who broke your heart? dounno how to forget you but i think i know where to start, i thought it was drugs, i numbed my body with chemicals little did i know with every shot the metaphorical shovel scooped out some more dirt from the inconcievable whole i fuckin dug. my life has been weird kinda like an opriental from a flee market an awkward rug, with no real spot in the house, was always the black sheep in the fam i tryed to tip toe as quiet as a mouse, some tom and jerry shit my mistakes and regrets cbhasing me around like tom the cat from that shit, I hide in my hidey whole, disconeected from any social environmeent i often found myself cryin, but self loathin is kinda like being a a gay with some dicks hes blowin, givin a ski job pitty is the lube hatred is the tube the vessel to carry out a deed the fags not sure about, hes experimentin comparable to some situations in my life cept wont catch me with two dudes in a shower, that was just a metaphor. you feel me? im sure the haters will hop all over that verse but just fuckinh hear me. I got my shades on and these bitches special, haters they block, they keep you no fun, sticklers out of sight out of mind like spf 75 sun block, that industrial shit, factory born hear the lunch bell on the horn, an  hour passes the busy bees come back to the floor to join the others to join the masses; the hoard., here the hum of the worker bees at work as they sneek rum in there flasks stuck it in to the hive got it past the queen time to catch a buzz to make this pain stop while i avoid the fuzz the narks at work, cant control it even if they wanted to stop. i dont want to hurt. this was a metaphor for the endless rut of a reality ive become accustomed to; succomed too, the low of the low. comparable to a german trench on the frontlines., my life feels like a conveyer belt, makin the same product running the same direction never really goiong any where, now thats was an analagy, keeping up? yung unsensitive how many? 0 fucks, 0 fucks giveen, 0 blights forgiven, spiteful to death and mornful for noone, nothing left inside just another no-go, malfunctioning product family be like feeling “ i feel like they robbed us” of our brother our son and our friend , dont worry fam im still with you in your hearts up to the end. im tired of our society with all its malice and fallacy, thinking to my self how sad it must be, to be washed in the brain to be hypnotized, this shits so insane.you want that shit super sized? of course nigga watchu you sayin. A glutonous society obsessed with self indulgence people actually still believe good people are in abundance. Speaking of which, fuck the people for a tec, have you looked around lately, this earth is a wreck, mark my words we headin straight for destruction, We are not being good care takers, we fuckckin actin so careless what doesdo the opeople in power really expect?? just pass it on to the next generation “ohh, its not our life time we will leave it for you” Thats a big fuck you to the generations after you undeserving self entitled fucks finallyy croak. get the fuck outa here, tell me when you sold your sold, you heartlesxs bastards would give anything for xsome more of that paper thgat rules all, the pressure you have put on everyone, no one is an exception, to support ourselves and loved ones to provide for our own and multiple other peoples nees, the urge to make money looms over our heads like a pestiliant storm cloud of angst and uncertainty, boreing a fucking whole in our moral, making peoplpe desperaate rising crime rates because people get desperate, people need to survive and they will do dam near whatever it takess to make the money they need, for whatever purpose.  ill whipe my ass with it throw in your cards i will win you better fold. i have freeedom, you ask what? anominity you fuckers, i can moldd my own life i have the freedomm of choosing, i certainly dont have to wait for legislation to pass a bill which you bribed for votes to do so anyways, to do something something much worse than im capabloe of ever doing, intentionally ruining the environment and turning our planet to mars just for paper with and idea (with a “hey, take our word for it, its worth something “””WE PROMISE”””” fucks) behind it not even gold bars, fuck you niggas mark my words illl bring all you mother fuckers down, ill run you fucks out of town, you hear that sound? its a train. its my passion and my determination to take you out, maybe ill use a fuckin plane? i mean its o.k. for the CIA to do it, right? Create this ridiculously elaborote ruse this plot, thyat fucking fooled all the ignorant and brainwashed americans you have already sucked in with your cancerous propaganda, kids lost to your bullshit through social media and the fucking criteria you make teachers teach young minds, we are taught from a very young age that “ huraaahh america is number one! Terrorists bad! Environmental destruction of a planet good!” how about we help some of the third woorld countries (which you know we wouldnt have to be gunning down women and children in the streets) we could just like give them the water they need? help them gentrify there communities teach them how to develop better skills, teach them more efficient ways to take advantage of their land, maybe bring some seeds to food sources that can be grown creating a bit of self sustainability that may not be indigenous but would grow in their country?? you greedy fucks just want oil, when we have enough in our reserves in alaska/canada to last north america 500 years falsey blame others, create an imaginary war “the war on terrorism, which infact is a fucking cover a false entity, to entice patriotism to loosely keep this crumbling empire together the last attempt, the only thread left in the button holding up the pants we call america, you forgot to tell the word all that shit is just whack  [ simply a meticulously pplanned and executed ploy to spur interests in the middle east, control the oil and power will return back east, return to u, Cause god knows you tax the fuck out of us for EVERYTHING especially mnother fucking gas, so we can pay for wellfare and pay for fucking solar power for rich fucks who e==inherited wealth, people who hdont know what working a day means and never will be, never had a problem, never been broke “oh shit my fucking croket set is missingg a ball” lose the pretense fuckers, you cocksuckers, arrogant low lives.. Money makes you any better then the hard working man that cover your tax breaks pay like our fucking ppolice forces (who are a bunch of ROTC drop outs with a badge and sense of power nnow being unfair and crooked taking some kind of revenge on the idea of the kids who picked on them all through out school” Motherfucker its harder to become a plumber, the learning and process is longer/more rigorous then a 6 month police academy which is fucking my lil pony world ( ith ink there is a fantasy kids show for my lil pony with their own fantasy dimension/world)compared to a military bootcamp.  A doctrine instilled to stop the spread of communisim wherever and whenever it may presenet itsxelf? when is the fighting going to stop in that area of our dying earth, thjey have been fighting eachother since lifes initial birth, what whoever was in power or in charge of trading the petroleumn to us wanted to charge an extra dollar 4 dollars  aBARREL instead of 3??? whaa you fucking greedy cunts,? so we invade and take control put there people on dog collars?? for wshat a dollar difference in productionfreedom of speech as you mothers suck the livlyhood from our home like a blood sucking leech, so careless, you know exactly what your doing, you just dont care it aint your problem your headin towardcs the end your death is brewin, well im the reaper of death cloaked in black i always get my man like a cold inwe can hardly co-exist and efficiently function. We are on world one love bob marley shit im getting tired of going throught the motions im all fucked up inside and shit. Early development can be a lynch pin. to either set a strong first corner stone, ceremonial placement of the first corner stone, free mason shit, corn and vegetable oil, so many customs and traditions are goin down a fuckin hill catch em rollin. Early  life is so fucking critical for a young kid, childrens minds are like a sponge they are looking up to their elders they are developing mentally they consume everything around them and retain more than you know, give your kids a healthy and stimulating environment and they will let there talents grow let there talents show let there brilliance flow let there inhibitions go, gone like dust in the wind, never catch em in trouble nothing, not one sin. They will begin to get older, be super organized, super focused for school, every class haxs a folder. As you watch them grow you will feel it in your heart you will fuckin kno, atleast you did this at least you used your parental guidance for good. when you die you know youll be missed, your kid dont throw fits, not one bit, hes such a chip off the old block that was cliche as fuck haha tuck em inh for bed his forhead you kiss. I just might fucking shed a tear, I cant fight this urge to drink a beer. I cant deny this fucking fear, I must look like just like headlights shinin onm a deer, jock strap aroun d my ankles, dumbfounded, look in  my eyes, perplexed, look on my face as it hits, you get a certain taste in your mouth this race is coming to a close suddenly your filled with doubht, seriously you should be care free, yuou did your duty as a parent, im jealous wish that was me, chill the fuck out go drink some fucking relaxing tea or something, sobrietyy seems to be a good mixture along with love and rationality to make a family function like a well greased machine, like a mechanisim freshly whipped down with some white lithium grease. tuned and ready to go, temped to huff the fumes and left everything go, turn your car on shut the garage door, let death grip  you, dont seem to care anymore, I cant change the past and i have no regreats, will i make it to thirty? “right over here people!” “place your bets!”, ill take my tickets to my Life Show and just scalp em make some extra cash, im already absent, so detatched;incapable of feeling. even if im there aint nothing going on emotionally in there (guarantee you im smilin an nodding i really dont give 2 fucks no more”, take that money right to the plug i promote fucking drugs not hugs, or why not both? why does the saying have to be one or the other when sxometimes its both you desire the most. Take the scalpin’ money from the tickets to the play of my life, go on down to the hood, pick up some bags mis amigos habla “Drogas” los hermanos tambien, this urge is hard to fight. Its a romance [a ritual of being, so0mething un explainable i wish i was never a part of, im always metaphorically bleeding. My poker face is strong, fuck showing weakness i alwayxs thought it was to show emotuion. wrong....... but its not, it can save your life, can \get you through, throw you a life jacket, get you out of that tide you fought, that frigid water no warmer than dry eyes.. Ive always been a loose cannon, I go with the flow, not lookin back, been chillin with the old heads they were suprisxed i could hang and, back to the point haha literally or figuratively is the question... im not gonna keep you waitin or leave yall hangin, i hate cliff hangers, make me wait 45 five minutes leave me jonesin’ its slow goin like grindin that ‘crete in the hangers polishin’ that baby out and coatin with some apoxy, its a process, i just get my drugs, whate=vers around and hit bangersz til i pass out, thatsx how my life has been goingg, i feel like im in the chambers just waiting to be gassed out. Flip the fuuckin switch you fuckin pussy end all this malcontent and hate, make itt black, eternal reest at loast.. dress me up real nice maybe a sharp vest, go through the processions and go through the motions fucking burn my body bitches, i want to be in the ocean ive always felt drawn to it, like an unexplainable,, unatainable unfakeable feeling or notion. im happiest sippin a coctail right by the ocean,  thats where you put me to rest... ill be pissed as fuck dont treat me like a fucking ruck; i beenn aroound, age is but a number, my knowledge is  vast and profound, ya thats right bitch im fuckin educated, know more tthan you will learn in your life time and im 20 years, old get what im sayin? i dont got a big heaad im actually humble,  just at my  breaking point. if i was a volcanoe you would feel the rumble; the pre-emptive signs of an eruption pre-determineed in the creator’s mind he took his divine time to find a wayy to grin away the time it took to find the book i bind when al i want is to be stress free and unwind but im the opposite wound up liike the grandfather clock i wish i could stop , the wheels are in motion the gears are set to full speed the feels keep comin i got this itch; this notion, this inkling to stop minglin, stop wastin my time with u useless fuccks. i think its time, its not the end my journey, just started this epic tale of sorrow, my feelings have departed, im fuckingg frozen over colder than ice, dry ice. cant touch me im full of hate and vice, addictive personality on a suicide mission like a ffucking missionary willing to die for his faithh,. i wish man willing to be a martyr for his religion.. ya bitch i smoke stoges in the hotel room just send the  bill to him if it comes to me itll end up in the fucking rubbish bin with a looggie on top coughin up brown shit to young for that talk, to young for heart disease pack and a half a day to try to keep my miind at ease, the stress is buildin im like a tickin time bomb, im so wound up like a clock rigged to blow mount vesuvius, a test nuke... the alarm is soundinn off. A  bright flash like a million lightning strikes, bout to pop off.. but atleast with style got my limited eddition nikes, listen to me i soound like them, listen to me bitching like a fucking fem, bottle it up, thats what society saays, male suicide is at an all time high like two polar opposites due to wed, its never gonna work im always going to be sad im always going to hurt, no fuck it, im a lock it up and throw away the key, im gonna forget about all this shit and be a fuckin G, be hardcore like the brothhers, leave bitches cryin in the street like aall our fuckin mothers, 32 degrees ferenhiet tatted on my left pec it signifies the tempture of my heart no longer warm and red, its frozen over, it hardly beats, that shit is smaler than the grinches, i turned into what they want me to be, a danger to society, getthe fuck outa myface before i shoo,t b, I got nothing to lose, living for nothing, nada, goose eggs nigga dont give a fuck reckless, no regard for life i dont give two fucks a partridge in a ghetto street, aint no merry christmas song, i like my biches thick and dirty wearin'n some fesh tomy thongs, i use em abuse and enthuse them then ruse thm excusse them fuckin confusethem "why you so distaant all of the suden" keep the vow of silence, like a monk on a holy missio, a friar on a divine quest, sending telepathic messages look into my eyes and see, get the fuck out i was never real these feelings meant nothing to me manipulator, manipulationist making up woprds never been a relationist, the masster of his craft a ventrilliquist or a puppet master you were to blind to see, mama was right just a socio path, ya bitch tell your 7 year old child that; see how long his chipper attitude lasts, im lower than nothing, not even a worm maybe i could bbe a fucking tick suckin blood, noting left of the kid i used to be, no more self worth, i cant love you when i cant love myself, how you expect me to support you when all i do is grab a spoon andd melt all the money thaat comes my way, a junkie, bum destined for an early  death and you think yous my bride to be, sorry hun you reaad me wrong, i know its hard cause bitches never know whats goin on inside my head, as i lay in bea,d staring off to somewhere, anywhere but next toyou, staring off into space thinking about my drug abuse, asking myself why, but i know the answer ready to die, but i think ill get a lapper frm one more danceer, i wanna go out in style, not som lame shit maybe go up to a mountain and stand on a cliff, look down, see wher im destined to end up as i take the safety off, finger carressing the trigger, a cool wind blows as i prepare to leave my loved ones bitter, surprised they sstayed aound thislong only ever let em down ever since i was young, never good enough always disappointing this rap comes so easily writing it like noothing, to get this off my chest as theend comes near, i shaped my own destiny i chose to die, now i chose to die here, fuk your beliefs and your faith in gods plan i took my life intomy own fucking hands, i think we all know einstiens theory of insanity, i been doin the same shit fr so long now exspectin shit to change and, i guess im insane.. i took my brilliiant, my sharp mind and put it to waste. its time to pull the inevitable, the good die young idk in this case if thats viable, im scummy i did whatever it took to get my fix to kill that pitt  in my tummy. i hurt people close, i stole from my famil.y.. its time to end it, like i caqme into the world, by myself always alone, soemthing that my father toldme that really stuck, its cynical as fuck, but he was right. he said stay out of the bullshit the groggy muck. Only lookout for yourself son, ive been arounnd awhile, [people dont give a fuck about anyone else they care only for themselves, in the end at the most critical time they will always choose them instead of some one else. We are alone in this wrld and its the hard truth jut learn not to ddepend on others while you are still in your youth, ive been fucked over to many times by people i thought i was very close to. now im out to get mines me and only me you and only you, get that fucking look on ur face sorry for beeing real and telling the truth, im trying to prepare your for whats ahead, im tryig to prevent you from depending on a brutus who will fill you with lead, stab you in the back for their own personnal gain, being to trustworthy is a heroic flaw like being egotistical, wanting to help your friends to much, being aragont ect. kryptonite to super man pease dont be batman and let it be yourr bane, bane as in the villian to let you know. im back, here are my words again not my dads, ji really do miss all the relationships i had, havent spoken to my dad in years tookk one for theteam stayed with mama dukese inj the ssplit to save faace, foir my innocent younger brothers. you know what shes also my motheer, shes not capable of surviving alone i didnt think i would abandon her ever i thought id never do that, i stuck with her out of evveryone, a family oof six she looked out for me in times of strife wish i could give her one last kiss, just shot my last 20 and i fucin missed, absesses dont matte any more i bet this 45 shoots true time for the finale,  no way i can miss, as the curtains close on my young life one last thought people really took to me, like white on rice, women were drawn to me the mystery i had them enticced, June baby as a cancer i am hard to understand i met a chick once who had a spot in my liifes bnd, she knew me we had a connection so much love we were never disrespectin im glad i could atleast i could teach hersome shit before she ripped my beeating heart out of my chest and stepped on it. Loved hermore than life and i still do i promised her one day i would find her and marry her, walkher down that isle say the words ido, she felt what i felt i know its tru, wasnt ready fgor commitment baby i wil alwayslove yo never orget you if i can i connect with you, like a disease i infected you i aways broght you downi was just baggage extra wait holing you down dragging around im glad youo saw through my snake charming ways saw me for who i was a bumm who couldnt change noot in a short number of days, someone so crippled by pain and grief it was beyond belief, she was the only one i wore my heart on my sleeve for , she lef me sobbinig, crrying violently without end in the door the doorway to more pain. i know she had no choice she had to live her lifee i was just in he way, i was obscuring her focus. eye on the prize isthe only way to achieve your goals and tnt them fuckin boulders, in your way, today i die babe, long time comin bet yall thought i was here to stay. baby l dontshed a tear kno i died drinkin a beer haha but nah you were my last thoughts thinking about all the time we spent getting lost in eachothers eyes and gettin so close we read eachothers thougts, illl miss or idk if ill be concious or just nothjingness, i guess ill fnd out when i finally stop being a pussy and proced with this, see ya velma ill always be your shaggy thinka bout me and dont forget what i made you see, in your self im just another memory on our shelf but let it bbe one thaat sticks we had somethingthat made ssense just clicks somethin that felt so right im really gonn miss, everythinig abnout you im sorry you couldnt trust me but i dont doubt why. i know the truth ive never denied a thing in my life, dont getme wrong everybody tells a little white lie, but you know what its a sign of intelligence not to be afraid to say idk not to lie for the hll of it. Ill see you soon in the nxt life or two i hope reincarnatiuon has a possibility of being true, godbye cruel world th ride is over it was a hell of a whirl, i leave you with absolutely nohing conntributted i was just a part o the cancer people had to live with, butnever acknowledgedd, acted ignoant to ther surroundings as daddy paid for college, i burned bright and hot and had a lot of fun, i had alot of life experienc got alot of shit done, nothing productivee of course in ssocieties eyes but i did fullfill atleast some personal goals, important things in my eyes, the curtains are almost done descending as my pittiful life is ending, but keep your pitty mother  fuckers i dont want shit from any of you i dont give yoou nothin dont be so self righteous you look like a bunch of fools, greive for me or celebrate my life i guess its on you how you chhoose to rfemmeber a nobody that nobody knew, a couple feet before the curtains drop, is that? myy eyes decieving? me? no i do see that a single rose descends from the skies, i stare intently at the work of art, a rose is soo beautiful, a representation of love, from the heart, so delicate with its velvet petals, easily ruined a boket wouldve been nice, but who am i fooling, thats a beautiful thing, that was really nice. the product bubbles as i take my last hit of ice, cant takemy eyes off that rose.. its so beautiful... the gun on my forhead now, looking at each individual pedals.. dew from the early mornin forming a small puddle around that naturral phenom, that iconic organic, spectaacular symbol of sometthing real, somethin that matters, something sensual. 

As the bits of his brain splatter behid him, arms spread; with grace, almost angelic.he falls off the ciff a hundred feet now for falling, weird but there was a look of peace in his eyes; on his face, maybe he wll finally find happiness.. he fell with nobility and so much grace the floor he hit, his finall restingplace, what cuold be a better box then a natural setting, a  beaauty of nature, crawling all around and he will return to the earth, the mother wll  take him back just as she gave birth, i thinnk this shit is over now its not my story to tell, inside voices kids no reason to yell. shhhhhhhhhhh. 

dont depend dont believe the [enter here]