#mars.writes

well i mean, you know david

he wakes up at the asscrack of dawn and tries his best to go to bed before 2am

so when he sees you, knocked out in bed at like 3pm on a wednesday?

he's dragging you out (affectionately)

"you're gonna ruin your sleep schedule if you keep falling asleep during the day"

though he won't lie, coming home to see you all cozied up on the sofa??

seeing you all wrapped up in a blanket on his side of the bed, your face buried into his pillow??

it does make his heart skip a beat or two

and he loves that you practically have bedhead all the time

he thinks it suits you

but despite his simp nature, he still doesn't want you to oversleep

"over nine hours is too much, angel. if you keep up this schedule, it'll just make you more groggy during the day"

he'll make you coffee every morning to help keep you awake during the day

and at night, he'll make you some sleepytime tea and give you some melatonin to help you get more rest when you sleep

if he needs to, he'll set your alarm for the same time as his

and take you through his entire morning routine

a punishment i wouldn't wish on my greatest enemy...

but he's too soft to follow through with that

usually it'll just end up with you, asleep, being carried in his arms as he goes about getting ready for the day

"next time", he says (spoiler alert, next time ends the same way. and every time after that)

Only the first thought was true. Ever since she was a child she found herself strangely infatuated by female singers and celebrities while the thought of a boy band turned her stomach. If anything, the boys were the people she envied because they were allowed to hold these girls, kiss these girls, caress these girls, love these girls, without it being frowned upon.

Her earlier hint towards her sexuality was when she was playing in the backyard with Clare and Michelle. They were chasing each other with sticks. As she was running away from Michelle she bumped head first into Clare who was hiding behind a brick wall - their faces collided, their lips met. 

“Eugh! Gross!” they both said in perfect synchronisation, because that was what was expected of them to say. 

Then later, in gym class, was the worst times for Orla. She kept her head down, even hiding in the shower cubicles to change because an alien feeling came to the surface every time she was surrounded by these soft-skinned and long haired girls. The only part of them that she could consider imperfect was the bruises and grazes on their skin from the rough contact sports they’d play, but even then, it added a bit of character. 

She bit her lip and pushed the feelings to the back of her mind. 

I can’t be. This isn’t me. I like boys...and only boys. 

Across from their school was an all boys school, when they had to head home Orla would cross paths with a few of them. She rolled her eyes at their attempts to be funny while Erin would fawn over them. Their two reactions seemed such polar opposites and nothing made sense.

“Lesbians do exist!” she said proudly as she held up the newspapers. That’s when it hit her. 

Lesbians do exist. Lesbians like me. I’m not broken. There is nothing wrong with me. I’m like her. I’m the wee lesbian too.

Then it was the day where she found out her best friend had been hiding a giant secret all of her life. The bravery of Clare gave her courage to be true to herself too.

As soon as the groups friendship was repaired - by them all dancing like eejits on stage - Orla had a confession to make as well.

Firstly she dragged Clare aside, “How did you know?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What made you realise you were a lesbian?” 

“I’ve always known,” Clare gave her nothing.

Orla looked puzzled and tried to rephrase her question, “So like...when you saw girls you just felt something there but nothing for boys right?” 

“Essentially, yeah.” 

“I feel the same way.” 

“What?” asked Clare.

“I feel the same way,” Orla repeated.

“Are you sure? Is this not just a bit too much of a coincidence?” 

“Maybe but, you’ve made me realise that it’s okay to be open about it. I need you to believe me,” Orla seized Clare’s shoulders and shook her a little. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to trust you.” 

Orla let go and looked towards the group that was sat outside, “Should I tell them too?” 

“Give it a while, they need to come to terms with me first,” Clare advised.

They rejoined the others and Orla kept her mouth shut about her revelation as they made their way home.

A month had passed since Clare had came out to the group and Orla felt it was her time to now come clean. She gathered them all in the kitchen, while the house was empty of parent and relatives, and offered various packets of sugary sweets. 

“This seems like a very formal occasion, what’s the deal?” Michelle asked.

Orla looked towards Clare as if to ask for help, Clare mouthed something to her, she completely misunderstood - lip reading wasn’t her forte. She said calmly, “I’m a lesbian.” 

Erin spat out her drink. Clare let her face collide with her hand, that was not what she mouthed.

“You as well?” Michelle asked, “Jesus, is there anyone in this group that is straight?” 

“I’m straight,” James inputted.

Michelle scoffed, “Yeah dream on.”

“I mean it was only a matter of time...I could have told yous all that,” Erin commented and shrugged her shoulders.

“Wait, you knew?” Orla asked.

“We grew up together, of course I knew.”

#mars.draws <- my art tag

#mars.writes <- poetry/writing tag

#au ideas <- exactly what it looks like. few and far between but they're there

#.bangers <- my favorite posts i've made

this man is so confused when he looked into his wardrobe and found like, 4 of his hoodies and sweaters missing

he’s scouring through the clean laundry trying so hard to find his clothes

eventually he looks in Your wardrobe and finds three of them and is like “... what”

the fourth is finally found when he sees you walk in

wearing one of his older hoodies, so big on you that it reaches halfway down your thighs

y'all just sorta sit and stare at eachother for a minute

he’s not even mad. he’s stunned at how,,, good you look in it???

i mean it's not too surprising to him seeing as he thinks you look amazing in everything but .   he adores the way the heavy fabric completely swallows you

how the sleeves need to be rolled up, or else they’d completely engulf your hands

how you bunch it up at the bottom so it doesn’t fit like a dress

he’s very heart eyes emoji

to the point where he almost prefers you wearing his clothes to your own 

seeing his mate wearing his clothes, looking so perfect and comfortable and his!!!!!

it makes his possessive and protecting nature do backflips, especially if you’re wearing them in front of other people

to him, it just screams “this is my mate. back off.”

he’s used to seeing you in baggy stuff, but it hits soooo different when it's his

he WILL be buying more hoodies to bait you into stealing them and he’ll act like he hates it

(he’s a really bad liar though. telling you to quit stealing his stuff while he can’t take his eyes off of you isn’t exactly convincing)

will actually melt when you’re both out with friends and you start showing off like “look!! this is my boyfriend’s hoodie!! isn’t it cool??”

and he’ll melt 100x more if you do that. at a pack meeting. he doesn’t even care if milo and asher tease him about it

he’s down bad in every sense

no one would be able to tell from the outside, but his heart is beating out of his chest

seeing his deviant emerge from the bathroom after a long shower, wearing one of his hoodies

if he wasn't so good at keeping his composure, he'd be down for the count

instead, he opts to shower them with a million compliments and teasing phrases

"oh? look at you, deviant. looking positively radiant, as per usual."

he can't keep his hands off them, caressing and tugging at the fabric, deftly slipping under just a bit

he didn't know how much he'd like the sight

but now he cannot get enough

from that moment on, he's leaving loads of his clothes around theirs as a subtle way of asking them to wear it

and he's absolutely deadset on taking them out somewhere or having their friends over while they wear his clothes

the thought of other people seeing them wearing his shirts and sweaters – really anything of his – makes his underlying possessive nature go wild

half of him wants to show them off as a silent "they're mine"

the other half just wants to keep them all to himself and offer up hundereds of compliments

in the end though, he finds a way to carve out time for both

safe to say he loves it

he's never known a human like you.

you were a perfect source of energy for him, sure. you were filled to the brim with anguish– pain and fear and anger that was absolutely delectable.

but you were different. you could sense him.

not in the way that empowered humans could. you couldn't sense his aura or feel his hold on you, but you could always tell that you weren't alone. you could always sense when you were being watched.

you'd talk to the empty space, not really expecting any answers. you'd tell him about your day, that funny thing your friend said, how you felt about the weather; all without knowing that he really was listening. he found it strange that you weren't afraid. you could clearly sense his form just out of reach, sense his eyes fixed on you in the night. in his experience, most humans take issue with being watched.

"maybe i'm just crazy..." you'd chuckle to yourself, but you never stopped talking to him.

it had been nearly a year since he began feeding on you, a little over eight months since you began talking to him... and about four months since he began to get attached.

attached? attached to a pathetic human like you? it was almost laughable. the fact that he'd come to care for someone so weak- but it was the truth, whether he liked it or not.

it was late. maybe early? it depends on how you look at it, but you were still awake. you usually were at this time, trying in vain to still your mind enough to drift off. just as usual though, you gave up after a while, opting to scroll on your phone as a distraction.

"you're here, aren't you?"

he paused. should he answer? it would be a breach of covert, but he could always just modify your memory if need be. he'd be a liar if he said he had no interest in actually speaking to you. he'd spent so long watching and listening that he knows nearly everything about your life. he knows about your job, that one coworker that never fails to get on your nerves, your favorite foods, your day-to-day schedule- hell, you've even told him about your family.

but he wanted to know you. he wanted to know you firsthand, not just as an outsider.

yes. i am here. i have been for a while now.

they jolted at the sudden voice in their head. it was one that they'd never heard before, yet it was somehow familiar. you should be afraid. you should be running, calling a friend, calling an exorcist or something.

but you were calm. and you were glad.

"so you finally decide to respond, huh? took you long enough."

vega laughed. it was deep and smooth and it echoed in every crevice of your mind. it was strange. but it wasn't unpleasant.

yes, i suppose it did. you'll have to forgive me, darling. i've been idle for too long, it seems.

now it was your turn to laugh. it was softer, quieter than vega's. but he found it captivating all the same.

you seem surprisingly placid, all things considered. i figured you'd be more unnerved? perhaps even scared?

"scared?" another small chuckle escaped your lips. "why on earth would i be scared?"

well, he started, humans aren't usually amenable to... supernatural beings in their homes.

"ah. well, what can i say?" you shrugged, rolling onto your back and gazing up at the ceiling. "i'm just grateful for the company, i guess." vega didn't respond to that, instead opting to sit in a moment of comfortable silence.

"so... are you gonna show yourself?" you teased, sitting up in your bed, "or are you just gonna let me keep talking to thin air?"

vega hesitated a moment before taking a breath. are you sure you want that, human? are you even prepared for the horrors that await you once my physical form is visible?

"ha ha, very funny. if you're so scary, why haven't you tried putting it to good use, hm?"

another laugh filled your senses. if you insist.

little by little, a cloud of black smoke began to appear in front of you, swirling around from every corner of the room. after a moment, it began to materialize into a form; a man. he was tall- way taller than he should be with two dark horns that made him look just that much taller and he had eyes that seemed to burn holes in your very being. he was intimidating and his presence was powerful.

but he wasn't scary.

"hey there, stranger."

stranger? vega asked, mock hurt spreading across his pointed features. i'd hardly call us strangers after all this time.

you moved closer to him, straining your neck to see his face in the dark room. "you forget that i've gone this whole time without even knowing you were real, right?"

vega mirrored your movements, taking a step closer to you. he had no need to strain in order to see you, though; as tall as he is, all he needs is to look down. but you always spoke to me. you told me everything.

"everything," you started, "is a bit of a stretch. plus, i was always the one doing the talking, never the other way around." you poked a finger to his chest. "from my perspective, you're a complete stranger standing in my bedroom who happens to know a suspicious amount of my personal life."

the demon hummed a response, bringing a hand up to trace along your jaw as a sinister smile spread across his face. even in the darkened room, his pearly teeth seemed to shine, definitely sharper than they should be...

would you like me to help you change that?