#banhsee

[strictlysmoked]

Fuck all of your negative energy I don't want nothing to do with any of you

TurnBackNow

[dylans-obrien]

Tbh I love your blog so much

tbh YOU ARE GONNa make me cry thanks <3333

[maliasfur]

FUSHIA, GREEN, BLUE xx

BLUE: You are my tumblr crush.

GREEN: I think you’re cute.

FUSHIA: I wish we were friends in real life.

OKAY OKAY NEA WE HAVE TO MEET, WHERE DO U LIVE? and sammmeee on everything else!!

Send me a color if it’s true lol

[yossiacar]

Stiles and Liam; teen wolf.

Yesss ♥

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hugs from scott mccall!

[robert-nash]

Voted for stefansmuffin CAUSE YAAAS

I KNOW RIGHT? it’s my fav right nowURL: don’t get it srry ;; | ehh | nice | lmfao | love it | GIVE IT TO ME PLZIcon: dont get it srry ;; | ehh | cute af | such aesthetic | omg gimme the link to dat picTheme: not my style | ehh | nice | pretty af | ohly fcuk aeSTHETICPosts: not my style | ehh | nice | i like | ur basically my twin omg | senpai materialFollowing?: no im so srry ily tho | yas | i already do

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[seat42f]

[marvelwallflower]

Havshee Fic- Cut The Strings- Part One

I decided to leave Don't Make Me Feel for now, because it seemed pretty conclusive and this fic would not leave my mind. It's made up its home in my imagination and refuses to leave.

So sequel to this but you can read it separately.

Enjoy!

Sometimes though, it feels like he wasted two years of his life building a relationship, only for it to get torn down by the smallest breeze.

It's been seven lousy months, three bitter weeks and five miserable days since Sean walked out on his home, his life, and never looked back. He tries not to count down the hours and minutes since his foot passed the threshold because that would be sad but no matter what he does the date is still fixed permanently in his mind. It's not something he's likely to just forget.

He tries not to think of it as walking out because he sees that as a failure. It implies that he gave up on everything without a fight, which most definitely is not true. Sean fought. He fought with as much energy and anger he could muster. He's stopped fighting now. He prefers to think of it as a fresh start, a new beginning, his turn at turning over a new leaf.

Sometimes though, it feels like he wasted two years of his life building a relationship, only for it to get torn down by the smallest breeze.

He's got himself a new job, a new flat that he shares with an old friend. It's not exactly a new life, but it's the closest he'll ever get.

Work is uneventful. He pours drinks for people in a darkened bar, counts their money, gives them change. Occasionally he's lucky enough to witness a fight, the blind swing of an intoxicated punch. It's even better when he has to intervene and place himself between violent, angry drunks. Some might tell him that it's unhealthy, that he's self-destructive but honestly, it's much more simple than that. It's entertainment.

It's a Friday night when his tentatively constructed world crashes down. He's working at the bar, waiting for Saturday morning to slowly slip by so he can crawl into bed and never get up again. It's a quiet night. The stools are littered with regulars, some who are too emotionally attached to the beer clasped in their hands to be healthy. He should probably start cutting them off before they become comatose. It's always so much harder to lock up when there are sleeping drunks, refusing to move, scattered all over the bar.

He sighs, moving his rag across the sticky surface of the bar to quell his boredom. It doesn't help. He feels the solid warmth of someone bumping his hip, and when he looks up Rogue is smiling softly at him, the curiously white strands of her hair falling into her face. "Go home."

Sean prods the rag and shakes his head. "My shift doesn't finish for another hour."

She nudges him with her him again, harder this time and indicates to the door with her gaze. "You're making me mopey. Now go before I change my mind. I'll lock up."

If it would make a difference, Sean would protest profusely, refuse to leave until the last minute of his shift. He doesn't like leaving Rogue to lock-up alone, despite her constant reassurances that she is more than capable of looking after herself. He feels guilty for not doing his share of the work even though he knows that on the days that Rogue is feeling down he picks up the slack for her too. He doesn't want her to think he's a liability.

"Sean Cassidy," she says, sterner this time. Her smile slips slightly, revelaing a hint of concern. "If you do not get out of this bar, I will throw you out. Go."

He goes.

The walk back to his apartment is quiet. He listens to the cars, the slow chug of traffic as it makes its way through the city as he walks. It doesn't take him long to reach his apartment block. The lights outside the main entrance and the hallway are broken; probably broken by one of the residence in a fit of boredom. Sean doesn't really blame whoever did it. He'd do it too. Although, it does make navigating the stairs up to his apartment more difficult than usual. His feet slip a few times against the dirty carpet. In order to survive the climb he splays his hand against the walls either side of him and uses them to feel his way up.

Pulling his keys out when he reaches his floor, Sean feels the overwhelming urge to sleep wash over him. He isn't exactly sure how much sleep he got last night, or the night before that but it definitely was no in the double figures. He blames his tiredness for not noticing that his apartment door is slightly ajar.

He freezes. Shit.

Inside the apartment there is absolute silence. No sounds of breathing or light footsteps. The only sound Sean can hear is the deafening jingling of his keys as they shake in his hand. Carefully, he slips them back into his pocket. There's no real use for them now.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his senses and pretends this isn't the most excitement he's had in months. It's probably a typical break in. As soon as he turns the light on he'll find all the furniture missing and the cookie jar he keeps his money in miserably empty. If he wasn't so desperate to sleep he might find the situation a whole lot more worrying. Tentatively, he reaches out his fingers and pushes the door open. It creaks ominously, broadcasting to anyone who might still be lurking in the shadows that the owner has returned. There's nothing but darkness peering back at Sean when he looks inside the apartment.

Reassured, he steps into the apartment. He reaches out to turn on the light and inspect the damaged when something growls from the blackness. Something hard and solid slams into him from the side, knocking him off balance. He wonders flittingly whether the intruder has brought a large dog with them to do their dirty work as he hears a strange mixture of growling a furious whispering, and suddenly something grabs onto his arm, yanking hard.

And his survival instinct kicks in.

He feels his mouth open before he even thinks about moving it, welcomes the pleasantly familiar sensation of air filling his lungs. When he feels another forceful pull of his arm, dragging him towards the door, he releases the loudest, sharpest shriek he can muster and tries to direct it towards his intruder. The grip on his arm immediately loosens and drops, pained yelps and groans erupting from the darkness. Knowing that his shriek will disorientate the intruder for at least three minutes, Sean calmly closes his mouth and walks over to the light switch, flicking it on.

To find Alex curled up in a fetal position on the floor, hands firmly clamped over his ears wearing what Sean can only describe as a leather catsuit. Sean knew Alex had an unnatural fondness of leather but he thinks this might be taking it to the extreme. Next to Alex is, well Sean isn't entirely sure what's next to Alex. It's large and blue and furry, and it seems to enjoy leather as much as Alex, considering it's wearing a similar costume. He can't see much more than that at the moment, not when it's turned in on itself, and all Sean can see are two strong capable limbs.

He suspends his disbelief for now though, because right now he only has room for one emotion. Anger.

"Alex Summers. What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!"

A/n: I hope no one gets offended by my description of Hank is this bit. It's meant to be from the perspective of someone who hasn't encountered anyone with a physical mutation before etc. It doesn't reflect Sean's attitude to Hank or anything....Yeah.