#‘you don’t need a dreamer you need therapy my man’

[the-butch-of-blaviken]

Geralt telling Corinne Tilly his life story, how he rescued Ciri from Stygga Castle then died side by side with his love and their daughter carried them to a mystical place where flowers never stop blooming while Corinne Tilly sits there listening to him like:

[strawberry-milkbunny]

Naruto is my Roman Empire and I’ve been reading MadaTobi fanfics so these r my Founders Thoughts that nobody asked for:

- Tobirama had a crush on Madara and it PISSED HIM OFF like they def had hate sex at one point LMAO

- they literally worked together ur rlly gonna tell me they didn’t have SOME moments of civility btwn them?? (lowkey that’s wild tho having to see ur brother’s murderer everyday at work-I like Tobi but I’m just sayin)

I WANT A WORKPLACE SITCOM WITH THE FOUNDERS SJSKKSKS:

- Tobi doing experiments and scaring the villagers

- Tobi teaming up with Madara to make Hashi do work

- Hashi making flowers w/government documents

- Mito sipping tea while encouraging Tobi to revive the dead

- everyone in the Tower side eying the sexual tension btwn Madara and Tobi and them never denying they’ve fucked before

- Toka cackling in the background

- Hikaku spraying water at Madara like a cat every time he throws a temper tantrum

- Kagami popping in to make sure his clan head doesn’t kill his teacher PERFECT SITCOM MATERIAL

- totally personal preference: Naruto should’ve had more BLOOD AND GORE. I wanna see the grittiness and horror the shinobi world actually is and how revolutionary Naruto as a character is by choosing peace over violence. The only time we get that is Obito vs Kiri nin, Uchiha Massacre, Wave Arc, Orochimaru…before it turns into DBZ fights

I’ve said this before: Sasuke was in a seinen Naruto was in a shounen

- the warring states is literally the perfect place for exhibiting the horrors of war and humanity. Bloodline thieves, child hunting squads, GIVE. IT. TO. ME. Madara and Hashirama experiencing all of this and wanting PEACE FOR THEIR YOUNGER BROTHERS UGHHH ROBBERY‼️‼️

SORRY TW IMPLIED SA !!:

I HC that bloodline thieves is prob why Madara wears gloves….being a YOUNG (he’s been on the battlefield since he was 8??) powerful, prodigy and future clan head of a famous kekkai genkai it makes sense why he doesn’t like skin-contact/sexual repression and repulsion. And why we don’t see female Uchiha shinobi (excluding misogyny) simply bc there’s such a high risk of SA in this era

Moving on:

- Tobi and Izuna were jealous of how their brothers were being taken away. It goes past the senju/uchiha rivalry like they were just kids and were plain jealous.

- Madara and hashirama def share 1 brain cell LOLLL. Like they’re besties for a reason, Madara acts likes he smarter but nah he’s as much of an idiot as Hashi is. They’re both dreamers let these boys live and skip rocks together!!! 😭😭

- let’s be honest: Tobi built the village. Mans was doing ALL the logistics and infrastructure

- tobirama is soooo second son/eldest daughter coded it’s not even funny. The SPARE, serious and emotionless bc he needed to always clean up after his siblings, DUTIFUL, prob has a praise kink etc.

- Madara is an eldest daughter who also prob has a praise kink and touch starved

- NONE of the founders r well adjusted like they went from spending everyday of their lives at war to tryin bring peace and start essentially a ninja-revolution (PLS GO TO THERAPY)

- madara was just the most open about it: being isolated and feared by his own clan BC he was powerful, trying advocate for the village and peace, all while grieving for his last brother…yeah it makes sense y he went crazy or at least wanted to leave (fuck Kishimoto for that Kaguya bs and fuck Zetsu)

- I don’t actually believe he was trying destroy the village idkkk. I think he was trying to do an SNS aka using fighting as a way to communicate with Hashirama and well…yIkEs

- tobirama is 1000% unadjusted: mans literally created a Justu to revive the dead. You cannot tell me that doesn’t REEK of desperation and loneliness. He’s lit rally the OG mad scientist

- hashirama rlly thought sealing the Bijuu and giving them to each village was a good idea….sir WHO TF GIVES NUCLEAR WEAPONS TO SHINOBI???!! 😳😳

- I think hashirama and naruto lowkey can be summed up as: a powerful idealist. Which is a very dangerous combination. Take that how you will especially considering how shinobi thrive off of violence….it kinda makes sense how we ended up with canon Naruto

- Madara has a god complex and knows it. Hashirama has a god-complex and doesn’t know it. (God of Shinobi title def got to him and understandable)

- the founders failed and they know it. But I also kinda love it?? They’re so flawed and human as leaders and you can see how their mistakes drag into Canon Naruto. It also makes me so sad knowing that Konoha was built to prevent child soldiers and give protection only for it to actually be WORSE (Kakashi ITACHI SANNIN ik for a fact it must’ve hurt Hashi to know ur own granddaughter left the village)

Uchiha are: love is the death of duty while the Senju are: duty is the death of love and neither of them will forgive each other for picking one over the other‼️‼️‼️

- proving this ^^ w/Hashirama’s weird af characterization: aka him being a loveable idiot but at the same time CONGRATULATING Itachi for killing his own clan for Konoha…. I feel like that rlly showed me how much of a war veteran/shinobi Hashirama actually is and how he will always pick duty

- we were ROBBED of baby Kagami/hokage Kagami 😤😤😤 I’m sorry Kagami should’ve been made Hokage it just makes sense personality wise and politically wise. The only way I could see him not take it is bc he needed to be a clan leader/placate the Uchiha/help Hikaku.

- I wanna see him process the loss of his clan leader, teacher, and eventually friends to a point where Danzo takes his eyes

- everyone on Team Tobirama had a crush on Kagami at one point

- one of my fav HC: Tobi and Madara co-parenting Kagami. There’s no way Madara didn’t check up on Kagami being taught by THE senju which makes his defection hit harder for Kagami 😭😭

- BABY SANNIN ‼️‼️‼️ Tsunade was old enough to meet and remember Hashirama it makes sense that Oro and Jiraiya meet the founders

- omg could u imagine being Edo Tensei Hashirama?? Ur granddaughter’s weird friend revives u using the Jutsu ur brother invented that you specifically FORBID 😭😭

- Hashi and Tobi staring at Orochimaru like “you look familiar???” IT HAS SO MUCH COMEDIC POTENTIAL

- Mito revolutionized female shinobi like she’s def the reason ppl realized that girls can fight (Senju Toka was an exception) STAN MITO 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

- Mito pulled a Tsunade and mentally yeeted out of Konoha after Hashi and Tobi died. Bc the way we NEVER hear about her and Hiruzen interacting except for Kushina, even tho she’s literally RELATED to the other 2 hokages….ROBBED 😵‍💫

- I HC: she was dealing w/grief (the fall of Uzushio made it worse) and she was lowkey pushed out of the council by Danzo FUCK DANZO

- I love the idea of Mito wooing for Hashirama’s hand/politically smart Mito!! It was a political marriage that grew into love. There’s no way she DIDNT suspect an attack on Uzushio lik it’s literally an island w/Kiri as it’s neighbours….Konoha gets recognition and stability while Uzushio importantly gets mainland allies

- Mito tops btw she’s def pegged Hashi before 🫢

- if Madara or Hashi had sisters/born women they would’ve def had a marriage to solidify their alliance. This makes Japanese homophobia not make sense esp in the shinobi world bc their clans trusted each other w/o backup like marriage?? Idk I’m just kinda confused y it was never even brought up for an alliance…

*cue MadaTobi arranged marriage au 100k, enemies to lovers, slowburn*

- also to dude bros homophobia has no place in the Naruto world (and IRL BTW) outside of making heirs. They’re literally MERCENARIES You telling me Kakashi has never fucked another man for information before??? Pls be serious I’m begging y’all 🙃🙃🙃

- there’s def family drama amongst the senju!! Idk I feel like Hashirama and Tobirama have the relationship of: “they love each other but don’t like each other” which makes Madara’s inclusion even worse for the brothers’ relationship. Like they def always had each other’s backs but never actually felt like they understood each other.

- I wish more fanfics/canon covered the shinobi-civilian politics more (I love politics lol give me world-building kishimoto 😤)

- Civilians hold power. THEY have all the MONEY to pay shinobi

- I’ve rlly only seen 1 fanfic that involves the Fire Daimyo during the Warring States Era (Into the Wide Blue Yonder it’s a KakaSasu Time travel fic that actually ✨works✨ 12/10 recommend) but it’s true.

Wtf is the Fire Daimyo doing during this era??? Why is he being so placate about Senju/Uchiha war unless he just sees it as entertainment?? How have shinobi NOT fought against rich civilian politicians before?? (Introducing Maoism to the naruto world lol 🤔🤔)

- Kishimoto curse ur goldfish brain….

- the uchiha and senju were def broke in this era, LMAO especially the Uchiha and I mean resource wise. War is EXPENSIVE the Uchiha don’t have Hashirama and Mokutan, they couldn’t just grow food whenever they wanted. It makes total sense that they would agree to a ceasefire just to prevent STARVATION

- once again…. robbed in terms of seeing the aftermath and devastation of war and learning how to live in a morally grey, politically unstable, resource limited world which could’ve brought in the ultimate themes of peace and the cycle of violence, and the question of if violence and war is ever justified, but…..no ❤️

[spider-bren]

it's ain't the being alone | hanninthian (?)

Pairing: The Corinthian x Hannibal Lecter Tags: Cori POV, Therapy Sessions, Murder Talk Summary: The Corinthian goes to therapy with Hannibal Lecter.

The Corinthian was a Nightmare. The Nightmare. The creation, the perfect creation, of Dream of the Endless, Shaper of Forms. He was created to reflect that darkness of humanity, their temptations and desires, their most chilling dreams. Even Lord Morpheus could not look too long at his face. 

Over the centuries, Corinthian lurked in the dreams of humanity and there was only one that caught his attention. A dreamer that wasn’t quite human. A man by the name of Hannibal Lecter. His dreams were something juicy that the Corinthian wanted to sink his teeth into. The corridors of his mind dripped with blood, and the hallways were decorated with the trophies from those he killed…and ate. 

The Corinthian didn’t need to go into the dreams of this particular man to know that he already indulged in all life had to offer him. He consumed, he partook, he relished in life’s beautiful offerings. 

After his master and creator was imprisoned, with his help of course, he set out to find this man who intrigued him. Living in Baltimore, Maryland, The Corinthian found himself on the doorstep of the psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter. He made an appointment with him (since he knew from his mind he would find showing up unannounced rude). And Hannibal found being in the company of rude people made him quite famished. 

The door opened and Hannibal greeted him with a practised smile. 

“Good evening, Mister Corinthian.” 

“Just Corinthian is fine. May I come in?” 

“Certainly. The hour is yours after all. Please take a seat.” 

The Corinthian sat opposite Hannibal and crossed his one leg over the other, mirroring the man. Hannibal took in his suit. Sharply pressed shirt and tailored jacket. Both in tones of cream. No doubt the psychiatrist was making all kinds of assumptions about him. 

“Would you like to take off your sunglasses? I prefer to look my patient’s in the eyes,” said Hannibal, ever so polite. 

“It’s kinda prescription based. I can’t concentrate without it. Light’s too bright. That sort of thing.” 

“I see. Well, I will just have to stare at your face then.” 

The Corinthian smiled in a way that caused men and women to fall to their knees. The kind that he knew broke down mortals walls and made them trust him. 

“Stare all you like, doctor.” 

“So,” Hannibal continued with the session, to the Corinthian’s amazement, unaffected by his charms. “What would you like to talk about?” 

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, thinking. He wasn’t here to talk. 

“Let’s start the basics, yes?” said Hannibal. “Where did you grow up?” 

“I didn’t really grow. I sort of just exist. I don’t change or age.” 

“You think of yourself as an immortal being? Incapable of change? Do you think you are lost in your existence?” 

Lost? No. No, thought the Corinthian. He knew who he was. He knew what he had been made for. It was why he sought Hannibal out. 

“My existence is irreverent. I was created for a purpose and I must carry out that purpose to the best of my ability.” 

“Or what?” 

The Corinthian paused. “Or what, what?” 

“What will happen if you don’t?” 

A chill ran down the Corinthian’s spine. There was only one thing a Nightmare feared. One thing that the Corinthian hated more than anything else. Oblivion. His master’s hand reached out to unmake him. His words sharper than his blade telling him how disappointed he was in him. How he was made wrong. 

No, no, please. I beg you!

He blinked. “Not really sure. I just know that I have to do what I was made to do.” 

“And what is that?” Hannibal tilted his head to the side, intrigued by this strange man in front of him. 

“I lean into my…baser instincts a lot more than most people. I don’t have any regrets, or fears, and I don’t repent. I am conscious of everything I do and I do it for the pleasure of it. Because I am made to enjoy it. I am made to be this way.” 

“Name a few,” asked Hannibal. 

The Corinthian chuckled. “Sex. Stalking. Predator/Prey play. The usual.” He grinned. “Murder.” 

Hannibal cocked his head. Pursing his lips as he clasped his hands in front of him. 

“You are protected by client privilege, I can’t repeat what we speak about here. You may speak freely.” 

“See, I knew you’d say that, doctor. You know how I know? Because now that you know I kill, you want to know why and how. You want to know more. You want to know how I use my knives to carve into their skin, to know I felt a throbbing artery underneath my fingertips and stopped someone’s heart. To know how I used the tip of my blade to pop out those juicy little eyes and … eat them.” 

Hannibal swallowed thickly and the Corinthian flared like a flame at his victory. Hannibal Lecter didn’t run away. He ran towards. In fact, the Corinthian was certain that he was turned on by this kind of talk. The Corinthian was an expert at knowing. Hannibal opened his mouth slightly and his eyes had glossed over. 

“You consume people?” 

“Just the eyes.” He shrugged. 

“You want to consume me?” 

A statement. Simple. Base. 

The Corinthian nodded. “In every way I can.” 

[noodle-shenaniganery]

I’m gonna watch Rockabye (as per @foxtail-1311’s recommendation) and document my thoughts. I know it’s Lovecraft related with a cool premise and Fox loved it so much its brain zworped some of the characters, so, I’ve got a good feeling about this!

- Eyo! We got actual subtitles and not just the autogenerated ones! Already impressed.

- ��Ladies, gentlemen, etcetera!” Green flag! All the green flags!

- This seems like a small production—decreases the chance of being a cash-grab. Lovely! I like the lighting.

- Funded by the community, probably. Good.

- The starting person with the robe seems really cool! Are they Sushi Soucy?

- “One of my musicals…” what masterpieces are you hiding in your robe. Tell Us.

- Happy birthday to Robe Person!

- Jesus christ, twenty-one musicals is probably a lot of Word documents.

- 👏👏👏👏👏

- oh no the fonts

- One of the ladies sitting in the front has a cool (sun?) flower shirt.

- Love the paper props.

- WOAH, THAT WAS AGGRESSIVE! 😅 Half-expecting Dreamer Person to burst into tears.

- Oh no.

- God, their energy level is amazing. The performer is very funny. Props to them! (Pun intended. Get it, ‘cause they’re holding a prop-)

- I read the description aND ALL HAIL YOG-SOTHOTH! (Joke.)

- The actors are great—even in the way they sit, it’s already showing bits of the characters’ personality. 👏👏

- …autism? ‘Tis thee?

- Yep, little families do be arguin’. I would know, I have one of those.

- Love Adil already.

- “BAM! FIRE!” 😂

- Damn, they jumped so hard the camera shook.

- This is a very unique premise!

- Someone get this gal a notepad.

- “I’m gonna keep going ‘cause I never learned how to stop,” OW, that line hit me right in the gifted kid burnout syndrome!

- Is Regina Starr real?

- The snap! That makes sense! Calypso needs a break, and it hasn’t even been an hour…

- The little “H.P.” on the cup. Love the details.

- Because a lot of people don’t have very good taste, in my humble weirdcore-loving opinion, Calypso.

- Hey, Simon moved his chair! Character development.

- The ringtone they play for the phone calls remind of a performance that I went to once where someone accidentally left their phone connected to one of the loudspeakers, and then they got a call. We didn’t hear it, just the ringtone. Fun times.

- Ey! Aromantic representation!

- “Uniquely human”? You sure about that, my dude?

- My man Bobby has clearly never been stung by a jellyfish.

- It’s odd that they didn’t make a piano prop, but I guess it makes seeing the actors easier.

- Do I smell some lesbianism………….

- DON’T THINK I DON’T NOTICE THE CHAIRS MOVING. YOU GUYS AREN’T SUBTLE. (Not a criticism, by the way.)

- I agree with Marly putting her head in her hands, by the way. If manipulating is part of your therapy process, you probably aren’t doing therapy correctly.

- WoAH! WAS NOT EXPECTING THE EYEBALL CREATURE!

- Wait. Is this going to be a Bobby plot again.

- OH, DAMN, IT WAS BUT NOT IN THE WAY I THOUGHT! W H A T

- Hm. This musical is much more unhinnged than I thought. Great! As the great Azathoth put it, “very entertaining”!

- The eyeball is just. Staring into my soul. I love it and whatever trashbag-ballon-looking stuff they made it from.

- The rocks. I should have guesses the rocks. HOW DID I NOT GUESS WHAT THE ROCKS WERE. AAAAAHHHH NOOOO NOT ADIL!!!!

- “I said ‘leave me’, I was faking!” JESUS CHRIST, HITTING ME IN THE FEELS, MAN!

- The Yog-Sothoth costume. I can’t with the Yog-Sothoth costume. Wheezing over here.

- Why does Yog-Sothoth sound like a stoned character in SNL? What.

- THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GAY, XANDER!

- Rotting is already stuck in my head. help

- Simon’s face during Xander’s song. 😂 Understandable.

- How actors repress the urge to burst out laughing during these types of skits, I will never know.

- I am experiencing EMOTIONS sjdgnwosgdvkaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

- THEY BETTER NOT ACTUALLY MAKE OUT, I DO NOT HAVE THE SANITY LEFT FOR THAT—

- 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

Well. Uh. Holy shit. I have been forever changed, thanks Fox 👍 .

jesus fucking christ

[phoebeyates-archive]

She couldn’t help but let out a little snort at that, because it was the most typical sentence she had ever heard a man say. “Sounds like you need therapy if you can’t even commit to a belief,” Phoebe said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say how much they’d rather be the villain. Except in Disney movies because the villain songs are always better than the hero songs.”

Phoebe wondered if the lack of consistent cash flow was the reason she hadn’t been a dreamer (at least, a realistic one) or went above and beyond to prove herself she could be more, way above her station. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t the money, but rather the lack of stability and nurturing of any potential talents when she was young. “And it’s always the people with money who try and make you feel like shit when you answer honestly about marrying rich instead of idling through life determined to become the Next Big Thing,” She half-joked, knowing herself she had practiced routines and monologues just on the off-chance she became a huge overnight sensation out of nowhere. When he mentioned the other store, she grinned at the familiar name. “I have, it was one of the few places my dad would take me.” Of course, not exactly a happy memory, remembering his wry smile as she picked up a variety of CD’s from the clearance bin, begging him to listen to one on the way home, whilst he himself had been more…select about his music choices, sometimes taking hours in search for the perfect record.

At the revelation of his punk-band days, Phoebe conjured the image of him slightly younger in the correct dress, corners of her mouth twitching up. “I’m sure it wasn’t that shitty,” She assured him at first, “but maybe you made the right call sticking to selling music, in the long run?”

Danny shrugged, giving her an unabashed smile. "Yeah, well I never was all that good at commitment. It doesn't agree with me." The longest relationship he'd ever had was with music and even they'd had their fallings out in the past. "Besides, who doesn't love to be a villain sometimes?"

He hadn't been that far off. There was something a little familiar about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He figured he'd probably just seen her around town on occasion. Maybe she'd been in the record store once or twice. Providence Peak was full of familiar faces. "I guess you've got a point, it's pretty easy to dream when you don't have to worry about cash constantly." He'd been fortunate enough to only be in that position a few times and even then he'd known he'd be welcomed home by his folks with open arms if he needed help. "This store? Well, I opened this one just last year. But I got two other branches in California, opened those in my thirties. And I run my parents' old record store, The Vinyl Countdown. You ever been in?"

Danny snorted, imagining Elijah's face at the thought of him playing either. With the exception of a few brass instruments, he was notoriously atrocious at anything that could produce a melody. "I did a short stint as rhythm guitarist for a shitty little punk band when I was about maybe twenty-four, I think." He squinted, grasping at the memory. "Didn't stick."

@phoebeyates

[tobebbanburg]

My second entry for the Luca discord bingo is for the prompt “singing”. Which ofc I meant to mean “Luca character rap battle”.

...bonus Richard under the cut, along with text in case the pics are hard to read

NICKY I’ll kick things off- I’m Nicky as you know Spent a millennium righting wrongs with my husband Joe Though we’re deadly as a pair I’ll hold my own if I must You wouldn’t last a mere minute before biting the dust You’ve got nothing on me, cos I’ve seen it all before So grab your coat, hat, and gloves and let me show you the door Your weapons can’t touch me, and your words are rather droll But I’ll indulge this little battle Whilst I pray for your soul

MICKEY Have you forgotten the alphabet? I’ll remind you then It’s A before B and M before N Sure, you’re immortal- big deal, we get it Well I’ve only got one life and I’m not going to quit Clawed my way to the top to the glam and the glitz Got my top hat and cravat I’m putting on the Ritz You can try to come at me, but you’ll be out of luck Cos I’m a schemer, a dreamer, and a real motherfuck-

MARTIN Bold words from a man Whose father never loved him You’re nothing to me

I have real talent Not the charm of a cheap whore Don’t make me spank you

FABIO Some haikus? How pretentious Pull your head out of your arse Why don’t you come over and face me And I’ll end your little farce Your writing is boring, longwinded, and sad My music touches hearts and makes the crowd go mad Sure I’ve killed a man or two, but needs must and you’ll see It doesn’t change a damn thing Cos everyone still loves me

PRIMO You’re a small time thief with not a cent to your name So focused on your dogs and your tiny hit of fame Gotta think big like me I built a port by the sea Got my payout of a lifetime from the golden hippy You think you’re better than me? That’s a big joke I’ll hug you like my cousin then cut you like my coke

ETTORE Hold up- Stealing is bad, you should be more like me Turned my whole life around with just a little therapy I’ve learnt all my lessons and I’ve started to grow Forget the money and the drugs and just let yourself go Don’t be bad like Cesare Cos crime doesn’t pay Take a leaf out of my book And be more Ettore!

RICHARD

Oh poetry! How delightful You know I’m something of a bard You’ve got a dentist in the house Yes it’s me- Richard! Some may call it depravity But I’ll fill any cavity With my hair defying gravity Everybody wants a piece of me Some love me, some ignore me, and I fill others with rage But I’m slowly growing stronger So bow down to the beige

[wellwornwornwell]

Quite a while since you updated us on wardrobe pickups. Fall ‘21- anything new?

I have like fourteen versions of this question in my inbox, so I figure this is as good an opening as any to return to the written word. Hope my inaction hasn’t jaded too many of you. A friendly reminder that if the withdrawals are severe, you can find me on twitter @wwornwwell. Let’s make your questions on wedding attire and first dates public!

So, first thing is first: I’m totally gutting and renovating a house my wife and I bought last summer. In short, I am poor. But even more impactfully, I have a wife with a renewed zeal for scrutinizing my credit card practices. This is great news for the viability of a 9-foot floating marble vanity in our master bedroom. Not such great news for my contrived self-importance in the Wide World of Jawnz.

Of course, I am still a dreamer. Still unwilling to seek therapy. And so my mind naturally drifts to what would look nice hanging next to the 1,000 other garments I wear once a year. Which piece of the puzzle I can unconvincingly cram into a void of a vaguely similar shape. A man has his needs, after all.

So, let’s swing for the fences and discuss the stuff that I have been thinking a lot about over the past year and, though I will absolutely not buy any of it, makes for great #content in the try-hard world of the iGentry:

When I was a senior in high school I went on a “graduation cruise” (suburban much?!) with some of my friends and their parents. The trip was littered with congratulations and drunken hand jobs received in dark corners of the Teen Club. In all the excitement someone’s father decided he was going to buy a watch for his son as a graduation gift (gotta love those Caribbean tax havens). This triggered an immediate competition amongst dads, leading to some ill-advised spending. In the fog of compensating for missed baseball games, a buddy of mine came away with a Rolex Explorer II 16750 “Polar.”

It was an absolutely beautiful watch. A watch that I obsessed over and envied immediately. Unfortunately, my more well-adjusted, “loving” father wasn’t interested in buying my affection, and so I left the trip with a measly Baume & Mercier. You can’t imagine my struggles.

Flash forward to present day and I still think about and lust after this watch. While the IWC Mark XVI will always be my true love in the watch game, I’d quietly planned for the 16750 Polar to one day be my ruggedly beautiful mistress. And that’s exactly as gay as it sounds. Unfortunately, some guy named WM Brown or Matt or something decided he too has impeccable taste and now what was once a borderline affordable daily wearer has jumped in price to the point that it would cost me the equivalence of a real mistress. I’ll have her one day, but not any day soon.

Segueing out of homoerotic undertones with aplomb, over the summer I caught myself admiring a middle-aged rich guy at a poolside cocktail party. It was a beautiful sunny day, meaning that he paired his navy fleece Polistas vest with Nantucket red shorts and a white Lacoste polo. While we need to definitely talk about bringing Polistas back one day, what really caught my attention was his footwear – low-vamp, full-strap penny loafers in an espresso crocodile. They were beaten up exquisitely, with frothy frayed edges and delicately separating tiles. You could tell they wore like butter.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a good lead on where to even find these shoes. They had that blobby last that looks charmingly stodgy on the right guy and stolen from dad’s closet on the wrong guy. I presume they’d need to be bought secondhand on eBay (yikes) or commissioned (double yikes). Regardless, this is the peak old rich guy stuff of dreams.

And speaking of dreams, I had a fleeting moment over the summer where I was going to send all my custom shirts out to me hand monogrammed. My sister recently created a kick-ass monogram for me, and it immediately sent me into a vortex of creative expression. After my wife assured me it would look somewhat askew as a face tattoo (my bone structure is suboptimal), I begrudgingly began my research on where to send things for hand monograms. Spoiler alert: There’s one place in the United States that will do it and the juice likely ain’t worth the squeeze.

I’ll probably give the treatment to a few of my favorite shirts, so consider this at the top of my “Fall shopping list.” But it’s gonna be a hot minute before I go full-on Gatsby and repeatedly assault Daisy with my initials.

Alright, last one here: An overcoat. I live in Atlanta, a place that does not require much in the way of formal outerwear. But I am a recovering iGent with continued (if supervised) access to the internet and so I must justify owning something expensive that I will literally wear twice a year.

My initial instinct was to go Ralph Lauren Polo Coat (if you know you’re never wearing it you might was well lean all the way in), but I think I’d be better served with a lighter weight, darker, and more utilitarian option. The only thing I know is that I want sharp peak lapels and a cloth with some visual interest (large scale herringbone, boucle, Donegal, etc.) While I know I said the monograms were most likely, it’s all but certain I buy some version of this off a dead guy in the next few months. eBay has my number.

So there you have it: What I’m thinking about this fall. If you outbid me on eBay, I will find you.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

JBBarnesNNoble's 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Challenge 2021

Hello lovely people! And welcome to the 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge last year but through conversations with other writers over Discord, it evolved into a Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge last year. I’m reusing some of the unused prompts from last year’s challenge and adding in some new ones!

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity.

This challenge will run through July 31st, 2021. It will run through Mental Health Awareness Month, Pride Month, and the month of July to give people time to write. You can submit it at any time. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from. Please don’t hesitate to message me if I haven’t interacted with your fic after a few days! Sometimes the tag system doesn’t work and I miss things!

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first.

2. Use #JBBNNMHAM21 to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately.

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got.

7. NO JOHN WALKER FICS. Please. Please no. I beg of you.

8. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it.

You also can alter the sentence and dialogue prompts as needed for grammar, be it altering the pronouns used or changing the pluralization of a word.

9. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut!

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“I feel like if I let go, if I move on, I’ll only be proving them right.”

“I don’t know. Am I? Because from where I’m standing it’s pretty damn clear that’s how you see me.”

“You don’t believe that do you? Tell me you don’t. Please.”

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“Everyone’s got broken pieces. Some have more, some have less. It doesn’t make you less of a person to have those broken pieces.” @nekoannie-chan

“If it’s okay with you, I’ll take that shake now.”

“What’s the point if I’m going to end up breaking that promise too?”

“You sure about that, moonman?”

“It made you smile though. And that will always be a win in my book.”

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.”

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

Summer had a smell that reminded her of innocence and a time long since past.

In that moment, the world stopped spinning on its axis as it all shattered down around her.

Some things, there would never be a way to understand. @justrunamok

Like shattered glass, in that moment the illusion was broken.

Forever was a lie, just like everything else.

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream.

They’d say it was easy, like riding a bike. Except, you never learned how to ride a bike in the first place.

Today was going to be good. It had to be.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south.

AU and Trope Prompts:

Soulmate @samsgoddess

College

Childhood Friends @tellmealovestory

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian

Doctor

Song Prompts:

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you”

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.”

3. Barefoot and Bruised - Jamestown Story

Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised”

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil

Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.”

5. If I Surrender - Citizen Soldier

Lyric Snippet: “If I surrender, surrender, to the monsters in me, will it set me free?”

6. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha

Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

7. Broken Arrows - Daughtry

Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

8. Used - Serious Matters

Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

9. According to You - Orianthi

Lyric Snippet: “According to you, I’m stupid, I’m useless, I can’t do anything right”

10. Let It Land - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line”

11. Cold As You - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you”

12. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.”

13. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.”

14. Therapy - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything. Therapy you were never a friend to me, and you can keep all your misery”

15. Scars - Alison Iraheta

Lyric Snippet: “Do you know how hard I’ve tried to become what you want me to be. Take me, this is all that I’ve got, this is all that I’m not, all that I’ll ever be. I got flaws, I got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart. It doesn’t matter who you are, we’ve all got our scars”

16. Hurts to Know - 1551

Lyric Snippet: “I can’t remember what I did to earn you by my side. I can’t surrender. I’ll fight as long as you’re in my life”

17. Spinning Bottles - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “He’s in a hotel room, with the tv on. Getting lost in the static with the curtains drawn, knowing this could be the time that gets her gone for good, he’d quit if he could. But one down, two down, three down, four, can’t even recognize the man in the mirror anymore”

18. Praying - Kesha

Lyric Snippet: “Well you were wrong and now the best is yet to come. ‘Cause I can make it on my own. And I don’t need you, I found a strength I’ve never known.”

19. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking”

20. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes”

21. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.”

22. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place”

23. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.”

24. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.”

25. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.”

26. Heaven Right Now - Thomas Rhett

Lyric Snippet: “When the whole crew gets together, memory lane goes on forever. We twist a top and pour a little Jack D out.”

[rotzaprachim]

be gentle with the people who were not made from The Fall

- Gen, Declan Lynch &  Mór Ó Corra

2k ao3 here

She passed Declan a blank manilla envelope. He ran his fingers gingerly over the edges, life having long ago built up a healthy suspicion of anything from the channels of the Fairy Market. He couldn’t feel anything, but he’d also never had the touch for it. At some point he’d always ended up having to hold his breath and jump in in order to get the rough work done. 

He slit it open with the knife in his pocket.  

There were answers he’d had before he even knew what the questions were. Firstborn, Niall told Declan. My All-American son, Niall told Declan. When you were born the rivers dried up and all the cows in Rockingham County cried blood, Niall told Ronan. When you were born, I wasn’t here, Niall told Declan. 

The silence swallowed his voice for a long time. 

“Ó Corra?” 

She gave him a look that said, you can’t pronounce your own name. Finally she said, “You have my name. It’s what they did when the father couldn’t be found.” 

He studied the certificate in the small crescents of yellow light that bounced in through the tinted windows of her sports car from the streetlight outside. The Births and Deaths Registation (Northern Ireland) Order 1976, Article 34. Registered in the District of Belfast. 24 July 1997. Declan James Ó Corra.

There was a box that asked for Name and Surname and Dwelling Place of Father (6). It was blank. There was another box that asked for Rank or Profession of Father. On that one, someone had gona back with a red pen at some later point, scrawled angrily, messily, bleeding jaggedly out from the neat black boxes, GONE. 

It made sense, in a strange sort of way that Declan’s brain dimly seemed to recognise in the same way that the drowning man thinks the sun streaming through the surface looks quite nice even when he’s being pulled under. Niall Lynch’s sons. The dreamer son of a dream and the dream of the dreamer the son of a dream. And here now was the odd one out, the liar the son of a lie. 

“I was two years younger than you.” The woman finally said. He couldn’t think of her as anything other than the vague idea digging at the back of his eye turned hard, angry secret when he started to shift through his father’s boxes of crap after death. He’d left a fuckton of a lot of loose threads, although Declan hadn’t thought he’d be one of them. Letters and phone bills from a far-away woman, even a photo or two, all the vitriol and anger he’d carried around bubbling up again acridly through a mirror. Collected in an old file box next to IOU’s and pay me bastard or i’ll fuck you ups in seven different languages, three of which Niall didn’t know how to read. Collected, and never returned. Even some photos of him as a kiddo in a tiny knit sweater. 

“No explanations.” Declan finally said. His voice sounded like when he’d had the lights punched out of him by one of the goons his dad owed rubles, or rupees, or riyals, in the parking lot of a Fairy Market. It could have been all three. “You don’t have to give me one.” I don’t know if I want one, he didn’t say. 

“I’m a very dangerous woman to find, Declan. You wouldn’t have found me if you hadn’t been looking.” 

He didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted safety, although he’d ruled out that as a possibility years ago. He wanted the ones the world had left him to care for to be safe, and he’d jeapordised all that on a wild goose chase to find the woman in one of his father’s fucking dream objects on a hunch of a hunch. He’d done exactly what he’d warned Ronan not to do, relied on himself to be smarter, sharper, more careful. All attributes hard won on his own,  like learning from imitation from a mirror. You see what this who looks like you does? Now do the opposite. 

He sighed. The air bristled, and he realised he sounded a lot like Mór Ó Corra.

“Maybe I-” 

Maybe he hadn’t been angry, almost, to find out. Maybe he’d almost been relieved. A voice to his darkest thoughts saying, you did not dream this up. The part of himself that’d been forced through seven years of Catholic school and then forced himself through a few months of therapy where he couldn’t tell the therapist about any of the things that had most profoundly fucked him up said a good man should have loved any child, regardless. He was about fifteen years past thinking Niall to be a good man. 

“Maybe I spent so many years dealing with all the fucking dreaming, the dreamers and the dreams and every fucking thing that’s come to kill us because Dad couldn’t fix any of his own shit and the fact that none, none of it was ever part of me that I thought I wanted some kind of fucking explanation for it all. I wanted some- some explanation for it all. Why I was different. WHy dad- … WHy dad. I wanted some part of a past that was mine.” Selfish, maybe. Learned. If you spent a lifetime you were different from other people, eventually you came to a wanting a reason for them to be different from you. 

“And you think I’m going to be the dear old Mam who darns your socks and calls to remind you to bring a good girl home to the family?” 

“No. I didn’t ask for that. You know what I asked for.” 

The second Manilla envelope she gave him was far thicker. This time, he could feel the slightest trace of- something. Not a buzzing, not a mist, a- something. He slid it into his briefcase. No expectations. Nothing more. A deal that was a deal, only a birth certificate instead of a handshake. 

“I was two years younger than you. Sometimes life doesn’t hand you many choices. I’d say you didn’t understand, and you don’t, but I’ll also say you’ve been a hell of a lot more of a father than Niall ever was. All the more so since the world’s made you be one.” 

Niall was drunk off some kind of spiked slivovitz when he’d come round to it the first time. Retrospectively, he was probably scared shitless, and rightly so. “Anything happens,” he’d slurred into the hotel couch. “You’re the man of the house. Take ‘em to church. Make ‘em proper. Make ‘em fear God. There’s money in the bank, anything happens.” And Declan had almost said, you know it’s my number Matthew’s school’s had down on the books for a year now? You know the priest there already thinks we’re orphans? 

“You’ve got a number and an adress. You’re a smart boy. You know if you use it my women’ll kill you just as likely as the dreamkillers.” 

“Everything has a price. At least you’re up front on it.” 

“I’m not a good woman, Declan. Don’t make your father’s mistake. Don’t dream me into being one.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

--- 

He didn’t open the package until he’d driven two hours, switched lisence plates and then cars, moved a state line, and walked two miles out to a sublet Jordan knew from a friend of a friend of an enemy in the art underground, where two dreams were now. It came with two dozen forged Miró’s in the living room, all done with a variety of blue paint with a distinctly incriminating synthetic binding agent manufactured solely post 1986, and even in the palest strands of morning light it made the living room into a riot of psychedelic stick-figure Catalan sunshine. He opened the door carefully, walked gingerly past the still-sleeping Matthew, TV still flickering from where he’d probably been watching it far later than Declan would have let him. Flicked the kitchen light on and made himself a cup of instant coffee, and more than anything else resisted the urge to upstairs and collapse next to Jordan in the bed that was for the moment theirs and sleep till noon. But if there was a lesson he’d learned by know it was that he couldn’t do any of the things he wanted to in life. So he downed the shitty instant coffee and he opened Mór Ó Corra’s folder and he got to work. You do what you gotta do for your family, Niall had told him. A deal had gone south and they’d made it out with their lives and stacks of money shoved in their pockets. One day you’ll have yourself a wife and some kids and then you’ll know. And he’d swallowed what he now knew was his rage. 

     “Ready to make a deal with the devil?” The voice on the other end of the number had said when he’d dialed it, and he said, only the devil can help me now, and he’d been right. No one with their head above the water could know the things he wanted to know about the Moderators. I have two dreamers and two dreams to keep out of the reach of a shadowy intergovernmental agency who’s whole M.O is about killing every dreamer they can find to stop the end of the world. Only a shadow knows its kind. And for her part, Mór Ó Corra had been thorough. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust her and he didn’t even know if he trusted the birth certificate. When you were the lying son of a lie, another one would be more natural than anything. He wouldn’t act on any of her information until he could put some feelers out, a few red herrings, get ahold of some of Nialls’ other bullshit to run cross checks. It was a start. At some he’d always ended up having to hold his breath and jump in in order to get the rough work done. At some point, he’d always just been shoved in. 

He didnt’ realise he’d fallen asleep until he was woken up. By Matthew, prodding his neck with the tines of a fork. 

“You said to wake you up if you slept past noon.” Jordan set down a massive plate of something exactly an inch from his eardrum with a loud clatter. 

“It’s 12:02,” Matthew added generously. 

He looked down. He hadn’t gotten through the pile. There was still more- 

Jordan’s eyes flicked notably towards the floor tiles. Declan followed them. In his early morning haze he’d somehow missed a second, smaller envelope within the envelope. He slipped it into his jacket before Matthew could see. He slid all of the papers back into the envelope before Matthew could see more. 

“Two whole extra minutes? Well, that’s where’s where the rest of my day went.” 

“You looked like you needed it. Like, you definitely looked like you needed it.” She handed him the day’s second mug of instant coffee and it hit him again that he loved her a not, which would have felt all new and electric even in circumstances that were not the current ones and when and if this was all over with hopefully no more deaths she deserved a really really nice vacation to somewhere sunny. Which he would not promise until he knew he could actually pull it off, because Declan Lynch was a liar but he was not a man who broke promises. 

  He didn’t open up the other envelope until he was in the bathroom with the door firmly locked. Magical all female mafias ran on the power of the sticky stuff at the top of a Manilla envelope, apparently. Only a few sheets inside. A surprisingly blurry print-out map with a building circled, a clipping from the Belfast Telegraph about the NHS’s most recent warnings on the loneliness epidemic among young adults and seniors, and new local projects for seniors to form new connections through knitting circles, classes in French and Irish, and mentorship opportunities with Sixth-Form students. “Former school teacher Anne  Ó Corra recounts feelings of isolation after the untimely death of her only daughter in 1999. She says that mentorship opportunities with Saint Mary’s Compre-” Declan scanned the article. On the back the same hand that had scrawled, GONE, wrote, THink the old bat’d be happy to see you. 

[songsofacagedbird]

you’re something out of a dream

a love letter to luxor’s balo driskell

While I think tissues are needed at this point for all three of these playlists, can I just say with Balo’s I think they’re especially needed? Maybe I’m just extra soft for Balo in general but hers personally made me the most emotional, she definitely went hard with this one. Anyway, it covers the entire Luxor timeline for her just about, major plot points and stuff, but a bit less so the reveal of her main secret that occurred during graduation honestly - as this playlist was made before that and given it took me ages to perfect the end, I’m just going to leave it be. 

Again, there’s references to other muses / plot points littered throughout, as well as references to eating disorders and a couple nicer things like her love for art. I’d also like to thank Lex for her help during these playlists, from the idea itself to helping me test listen yet again, this is going to be a pattern in these descriptions and I’m sorry for anyone who like “Katie stfu” already but genuinely it’s really thanks to her that these even exist and honestly they’re actually some of the playlists I am most proud of to date.

Please keep in mind that the standard Balo triggers apply (mental health, eating disorders, abuse / child abuse). Any additional tws will be noted on their sections if they apply.

in dreams you will lose your heartaches. whatever you wish for, you keep | pre-luxor (aka pre-rp):

balo before luxor, navigating her life

Song of the Caged Bird (Lindsey Stirling) [ instrumental ] // Castle On A Cloud (Isabelle Allen) [ I know a place where no ones lost. I know a place where no one cries. Crying at all is not allowed, not in my castle on a cloud. ] // Paint the Pictures (of Verona) [ I paint the picture of the oceans I'll never see. I hold a candle through the darkness so I believe. ] // almost home (mxmtoon) [ No one ever says all the love you give might not be enough. Broke my heart in two a couple times before it hurt too much. ] // A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes (Lily James) [ Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing the dream that you wish will come true. ]

does it hurt to see how our smiles have changed, my friend? | summer & fall 2019:

the period of time I was playing Balo in Luxor originally, from June 2019 right up until her intervention in October

Friends In The Corner (Foxes) [ Do you need someone? Everybody's looking like they need someone. All of my friends in the corner, everybody's looking like they need someone. Pretending we don't fear the morning. ] // Scars To Your Beautiful (Alessia Cara) [ She says, “beauty is pain and there's beauty in everything. What's a little bit of hunger? I could go a little while longer,” she fades away. ] // Never Gonna Let You Down (Colbie Caillat) [ I'm never gonna let you down, I'm always gonna build you up. When you're feeling lost, I will always find you, love. ] // Running with the Wolves (AURORA) [ There's blood on your lies, the scars open wide. There is nowhere for you to hide, the hunter's moon is shinin'. ] // She Is the Sunlight (Trading Yesterday) [ And it will take this life of regret for my heart to learn to forget. Tomorrow will be as it always has been, and I will fall to her again. ]

you keep trying to get inside my head while i keep trying to lose the words you said | winter 2019 & early Spring 2020:

Balo’s hospitalization, and the time at home following it.

All the King's Horses (Karmina) [ Is it still a home when you're all alone? All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put me back together again. ] // Safe (Britt Nicole) [ Oh no, my walls are gonna break. So close, it's more than I can take. I'm so tired of turning and running away. ] // Lost Boy (Ruth B.) [ There was a time when I was alone, no where to go and no place to call home. My only friend was the man in the moon, and even sometimes he would go away too. ] // Keep Your Head Up (Ben Howard) [ 'Cause I'll always remember you the same, eyes like wild flowers with your demons of change. ] // Wake Me Up (Madilyn Bailey) [ They tell me I'm too young to understand. They say I'm caught up in a dream. My life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes, well that's fine by me. ] // Dance (Foxes) [ I want you, got no shame. This therapy's gone to waste; when the midnight hour comes in vain, you're in my head, you say my name. ]

what the fuck are perfect places anyway? | spring 2020:

Balo’s return to Luxor, leading up to her breakdown at prom additional tws: drugs and alcohol (perfect places)

Good Day for Dreaming (Ruelle) [ There's a hope, there's a spark, there's a fire. There's a light in the dark burning brighter. It's a good day for dreaming. ] // Perfect Places (Lorde) [ All of our heroes fading, now I can't stand to be alone. Let's go to perfect places! ] // prom dress (mxmtoon) [ I'm sitting here, crying in my prom dress. I'd be the prom queen if crying was a contest. Makeup is running down, feelings are all around. How did I get here? I need to know... ]

i would sell my sorry soul if i could have it all | summer 2020:

summer camp adventures, and the starts of questioning who she is

Live Life (Zayde Wølf) [ Sometimes I think that I'm the dreamer, the one that's standing all alone. Sometimes it feels like it's forever since I've truly felt at home. ] // Celeste (Ezra Vine) [ You're something out of a dream, messing with my head and I've been looking for you. Are you hiding? ] // The State of Dreaming (MARINA) [ If only you knew my dear, how I live my life in fear. ] // If Only (Dove Cameron) [ If only I knew what my heart was telling me. Don't know what I'm feeling; is this just a dream? If only I could read the signs in front of me, I could find the way to who I'm meant to be. ]

my heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with | fall & winter 2020:

balo’s disownment, her breakup with kitty, and coming to terms with them

raindrops {an angel cried} (Ariana Grande) [ The day you left me, an angel cried. ] // Because of You (Kelly Clarkson) [ I was so young, you should have known better than to lean on me. You never thought of anyone else, you just saw your pain, and now I cry in the middle of the night for the same damn thing. ] // human (Christina Perri) [ Your words in my head, knives in my heart, you build me up and then I fall apart 'cause I'm only human. ] // Illusion (Zedd feat. Echosmith) [ It feels like the fairytale is over. I really wanted these pages to begin with once upon a time like all those lullabies. I should've known better. ] // Cry (Kelly Clarkson) [ Is this as hard as it gets? Is this what it feels like to really cry? ] // drivers license (Olivia Rodrigo) [ Sidewalks we crossed. I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing over all the noise. God, I'm so blue, know we're through, but I still fuckin' love you. ] // Until The Sun Comes Up (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Do you want to get lost? Go waste our time, lose this city skyline. Be so much better if you're by my side, find myself and lose my mind; think I need a moment to re-align. ] // Part Of Me (Katy Perry) [ Throw your sticks and your stones, throw your bombs and your blows but you're not gonna break my soul. ] // Love Not Loving You (Foxes) [ You were always giving me all of your insecurities. How could you do it? You knew what you were doing to me. ] // no tears left to cry (Ariana Grande) [ Right now, I'm in a state of mind I wanna be in like all the time, ain't got no tears left to cry. ]

you forgive, you forget, but you never let it go | spring 2021:

her classmates choice in the gym, and it’s aftermath additional tws: drowning (When the Storm is Over)

Bad Blood (Taylor Swift feat. Kendrick Lamar) [ Remember when you thought I'd take a loss? Don't you remember? You thought that I would need ya, follow procedure, remember? Oh, wait, you got amnesia. ] // Talking to Ghosts (Foxes) [ And I can be your guiding light if you just let me, but I can’t be your guiding light if you have left me. ] // When The Storm Is Over (Sofia Karlberg) [ But when it comes down something in the air says we're 'bout to drown. Baby, we wеren't meant for closure, tеll me when the storm is over. ] // Try (Colbie Caillat) [ You don't have to try so hard, you don't have to give it all away. You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up, you don't have to change a single thing ] // Still Have Me (Demi Lovato) [ So take my faith but 'least I still believe (I still believe, in me), and that's all I need. I don't have much but 'least I still have me. ]

and i don't really care if nobody else believes ‘cause i've still got a lot of fight left in me | early summer 2021:

the story of therapy, the start of recovery, learning to love oneself, and a little bit of romance.

Daisies - Acoustic (Katy Perry) [ They told me I was out there, tried to knock me down. Took those sticks and stones, showed 'em I could build a house. They tell me that I'm crazy, but I'll never let 'em change me 'til they cover me in daisies. ] // Home (Gabrielle Aplin) [ I'm a phoenix in the water, a fish that's learnt to fly. And I've always been a daughter but feathers are meant for the sky. ] // Change (Taylor Swift) [ ’Cause these things will change, can you feel it now? These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down. ] // Dear Happy (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Don't you worry, oh no, don't be alarmed. I'm just working it out here, working it out here. I'm somebody with a recovering heart, you've waited there for me, keep waiting there for me. ] // Fight Song (Rachel Platten) [ And all those things I didn't say, wrecking balls inside my brain. I will scream them loud tonight, can you hear my voice this time? ] // Catch My Breath (Kelly Clarkson) [ Catching my breath, letting it go, turning my cheek for the sake of the show. Now that you know, this is my life, I won't be told what's supposed to be right. ] // Wildflowers (Elle Fanning) [ Wildflowers you brought me are crumbled in my hands. This love that you taught me, I still don't understand. ] // Begin Again (Taylor Swift) [ And for the first time, what's past is past. 'Cause you throw your head back laughing like a little kid, I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did. ] // Let's Sort The Whole Thing Out (Carly Rae Jepsen) [ I love you, this is a new thing. One more drink, let's get to the bottom of it. I love you, let's sort the whole thing out. ] // Youth (Foxes) [ And as we cross the line, these fading beats have all been severed. Don't tell me our youth is running out, it's only just begun. ] // Soft to Be Strong (MARINA) [ I took my bitterness and made it sweet, I took a broken heart and made it beat. ] // Way Less Sad (AJR) [ Don't you love it? Don't you lovе it? No, I ain't happy yet, but I'm way less sad. ]

[kbetacygni]

CK/TKK survey

i, kbetacygni, was invited to do this wonderful amazing survey by @kingkarate​

It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?: after that teaser dropped today.... i am. at a loss for words (in all honesty, this show saved me, idk if I would’ve been able to get through winter and spring quarter at Zoom University without it) 

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?:  so i definitely watched TKK when i was like... maybe 7 years old? I thought it was a little cheesy. didn’t leave a huge impression on me. the only two scenes i remembered from that time were (1) miyagi talking about his wife and child at the internment camp, and (2) “you’re alright, larusso.” literally the only two. didn’t remember a single thing other than that. 

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i don’t KNOW. i think i don’t have a single favorite character but i have favorite character moments, if that makes sense. 

Favorite ship: lawrusso. after wkomd, i was fully invested

Underrated character: off the top of my head, mitch? i keep on remembering that one moment in the christmas larusso house fight when, after arguing with the miyagi-do kids on almost everything, he helps demetri up from the ground and is like “c’mon, we gotta keep fighting”. i was like IT’S HAPPENING, THE KIDS ARE PUTTING ASIDE THEIR DIFFERENCES AND COMING TOGETHER

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol): robby + tory ONLY IF they are able to show each other that life can be stable and good and people worth finding trust in (bonus if they beat up kreese together) 

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?: i would like to know how to sweep the leg. so yeah the latter. 

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?: i mean in terms of Funny, the powder-blue ruffled tux from prom. in terms of Actually Cool, i’d have to go w/ the classic white gi from the tournament. 

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver: dutch. i need to see that deranged little man laugh at johnny and daniel while sipping a multicolored cocktail. kreese tries to recruit him and he throws said cocktail in his face. 

Scene that lives in your head rent-free: the “you’re the best” montage scene in kk1. the song makes it so vibrant and iconic. 

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?: season 4 reveals that anthony was actually adopted, and his biological father? none other than mike barnes. 

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?:  none of them. i go to ap classes. i get my head smashed in during the school fight. (in all honesty i wouldn’t function well in any of the three. maybe topanga or smth. i’d just want a regular extracurricular that isn’t gonna make me cry) 

What’s your training montage song?: DREAMERS, sweet disaster

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?: community. both shows are surreal-crazy. i wanna see the combined dojo vs Cobra Kai in an intensely dramatic paintball war. 

tagging: idk who’s done this already, but if you haven’t, I Am Formally Welcoming You To Do This. 

[ladyideal]

Ficmas~ Day 22

Pairing: John Kennex x Detective!Reader

Word Count: 1365

Warnings: Uh. Mild jealousy.

Summary: You and John go to a party hosted by the Captain.

Requested By: @writerdee1701

A/n: wow 22nd already. December really flies by fast.

"So how was Angry 101?" You asked, greeting John as he stepped out of  his group therapy session. 

"I feel good, better. All thanks to you," The detective planted an affectionate kiss on your cheek. 

You grinned, avoiding Dorian's curious glance. "Come on. We've only got half an hour to change, and get our ass over to the Captain's party."

"Thirty seven minutes and forty two seconds," Your MX piped up. 

"Thanks Sofia, but you might want to shut it. John here is known for blowing up MXs," You shook your head, trying not to laugh. "Your suit's in the back. We can change at my place."

"You've thought of everything."

John was like that. After losing his girlfriend and betrayed, you understood he was a lot more careful with romantic relationships. So it was quite a surprise when he came up to you with a gift: 

His phone number and a piece of bubblegum.

No one said that in the precinct that co workers couldn't date one another. Clearly, the Captain didn't mind either. Secretly, you wondered if she too was rooting for you and Kennex. But he took it slow at first like you wanted. 

"So how do I look?" You finished the last of your makeup and hair. 

"Beautiful," John adjusted his tie one more time before putting on his blazer. "You sure this isn't a casual event?"

"Yes, I'm sure," You nodded. "I don't think the captain would appreciate us going there with jeans and a t-shirt."

"Correct," Dorian emerged, looking the same as he's always been. "We should get going, John."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"Can I take a sip from it before we leave?"

"Don't you dare, John."

The car ride was mostly silent. It had been a great eight months together, and you honestly hoped that he would be the one. Yet despite all the honesty and transparency within the relationship, something was being held back. Understandably so, John was very reluctant in talking about the day when his team went down, and he himself rounded up in a seventeen month coma.

You wanted to help him as much as you could, as a partner and now significant other would. However, you trusted him. There must be something deeper connected to the attacks that he was keeping you in the dark. 

To protect you? Probably. 

Children sleeping

Snow is softly falling

Dreams are calling

Likes bells in the distance

We were dreamers

Not so long ago

But one by one

We all had to grow up

"Have you always wanted to join the force as a kid?" You asked, shutting the car door behind you and bundling your scarf tighter around your neck. 

"Fight the bad guys," John nodded, stepping in front of the front door. 

Knock knock. 

"Detectives! So glad you could make it. Come in, come in. It's freezing out there," An unfamiliar man opened the door. 

With a round of thanks, you and the group trudged in, making sure to keep the snow out and not into the house. Once within, you rubbed your hands together, taking in the grandeur of the entryway and the chatters from within. 

"Detectives, Dorian, Sofia, hope the drive wasn't too bad," A rather proud looking Captain Maldonado appeared by her husband. 

"Happy holiday, Captain. Thank you for inviting us," You greeted as your boyfriend handed over the bottle of red wine. 

"Oh! A present, you shouldn't have," Her husband turned it over in his hands. "Look at this, sweetie, pinot noir. Perfect with finger food and snacks."

"Please make yourselves at home," Maldonado smiled, thanking you for the gift and leaving to greet the next set of guests that walked in from behind. 

"Wow, look at that. At least half of the precinct is here," You mumbled. 

People and their MXs milled about, most with a glass of alcohol in hand. With a glance, you recognized some. The Christmas tree stood in the distant corner, quietly flickering through its light sequence. The dining table was filled with snacks of all sorts from crackers to fruit. Furthermore, you swore you could smell hot chocolate, eggnog, and an assortment of other festivity drinks. 

"Want something to drink?" John darkly spoke, frowning when he saw Richard among the crowd.

"Yeah. A hard apple cider if they have some. If not, hot chocolate works too," You mumbled, greeting some of those that waved at you.

"Oh Y/L/N, I didn't know you got invited too. Come here by yourself?" Richard swaggered up to you.

Taking a step back, you shook your head. "Not quite. John came with me."

"Kennex?" He laughed. "Did you not hear? His whole team got killed, while he survived.  Don't you think something fishy happened there? You could do so much better. What do you say we go, fish some fish?"

"No thanks. I'm here with my boyfriend. Enjoy the party, Paul," You roughly brushed past him, ignoring his surprised squawk. "And maybe grow a pair, jerk."

He was interested in you, way before John did. Despite his good standing as an officer, his personality was nowhere near as nice. When John returned to the force, his jealousy inflated his ego. You didn't quite like him. He was just a dick.

"Paul giving you troubles?" Your boyfriend reemerged by your side, handing over your mug of cider and eyeing the other detective.

"No more than usual. He's been crabby ever since you started taking interest in me. Didn't help that Stahl started giving me the stink eye every time I mention you in anything." You snorted, taking a long draught.

"And speak of the devil, here she comes," He indicated at the detective approaching. 

"Detective Kennex," She smiled, then falling slightly at you. "Detective Y/L/N. Good to see you two here. How's the eggnog?"

"Bland, rum could be stronger," John answered.

Before the blonde could answer, the White Elephant gift exchange was starting. Politely excusing you and himself, John practically dragged you away from her after watching you give her death daggers.

"Jealous much?"

"Hmph. Being a Chrome, genetically modified won't give her all the upper hand," You grumbled, placing your presents into the center and drawing two numbers. 

Fourth and ninth.

"Let's see what's in store this year." 

As more people gathered around, Maldonado cleared her throat. "White Elephant rules are still the same. 3 steals, and the present is out. Understood?"

All heads nodded. 

"If you may start, Jenks."

You watched with a smug grin as the first person chose yours, before being stolen by the second, and then stolen again by John who went fourth. Good thing you bought the present while on a grocery run, or he would've known what it was. When it was your turn, you gave everyone a death glare, clinging onto your present, daring anyone to challenge you.

Wisely, no one did.

"Not giving it up?" He teased as you teared it open, revealing an advent calendar full of chocolates. 

"Fuck no."

He laughed. "Save some for me alright?"

"No promises."

As the party dwindled and people left, you and John thank the Captain once more before heading home. "That was fun."

"Sure was."

As you got out of the car, you realized that you forgot to grab John's gift on the way out. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you grab your advent on the way out? I can't find-. Oh here it is," You fished out the gift and frowned at the lack of chocolates within. "Who ate all the advent calendar chocolates?"

In the silence, you turned to him, jaw dropping at the sight in front. 

"What chocolate?" The detective quickly swiped away the last remnant of chocolate on the edges of his mouth. "I didn't see any chocolate."

You rose an eyebrow, and grinned. "So you, Detective Kennex, is saying that despite the incriminating evidence on your hand and face, that you've not seen nor tasted any chocolate."

"Yes, Detective Y/L/N. That is correct."

"And that you are knowingly lying to an officer of the law."

"Sounds right," And before you could retort a smart ass reply, pulled you in for a kiss. "Happy Holidays."

Believe in what you feel inside

And give your dreams the wings to fly

You have everything you need

If you just believe

Eats Everything: @asraime @aspiring-ginger @bluesclues-1234 @mournthewicked @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @lykxzandlove @also-fangirlinsweden @keijibum @groovyfluxie @mysoulshideaway @fandom-imagination-ss @mayday1284 @supergeekfangirl @sayanythingcreations​ @your-sparklywinnercollection​

Urban: @yueci @fandomsfeelsandfamily @justa-traaash

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Plague Rat Chapter 3

Three months later…

 “Hello and welcome to Channel Eight! I’m Erica, bringing you the news!”

 “Today we are speaking of what is now called ‘the Plague of Truth’, brought upon us by the Akuma Plague Rat.

 Due to the Akuma’s powers of infecting people with a deadly virus resembling the Black Plague but targeting liars, many secrets came about. And many consequences have occurred. The most high profile ones are the former mayor, his wife and a dozen city officials who are now closing ranks and trying to-“ Marinette turned off the TV and closed her eyes.

 After she had been purified, the girl had been horrified at her actions, feeling ill and disgusted. She had done that? She had attacked people? She had nearly…

 Luckily there was a therapist employed by the hospital that sat with her and spoke with her. He was open and honest and she had a lot off issues she usually kept locked up. 

 He helped her speak of them and confront them. Helped her understand her issues. Helped her realize how many were people putting things on her and expecting things if her when they shouldn’t. 

 She still didn’t feel okay. Knowing what she did made her feel sick, but her classmates where there. Alix spoke with her softly, the girl knowing she had killed one. Kim spoke of rewatching his actions and feeling horrified. Rose shuddered at what she had done.

 It helped. 

 More so, honestly, it helped knowing that her actions had exposed Lila and a lot of corruption. Not only had she hit the mayor, she’d hit the commissioner, Audrey, Nadja and a bunch of others. 

 Andre had been removed from office and was now facing trial for his crimes. The commissioner had been removed from office along with Roger being fired and were also facing charges. Rumors said they would probably get ten years at least.

Audrey was going away for child abuse, corruption and the abuse of her staff. She had admitted everything and Chloe had been removed from their care in a second, being placed with an aunt on the other side of Paris who hadn’t spoken to her sister in years and had never cared to. The aunt had agreed to take Chloe in but had warned the girl she would not put up with any of her actions.

 Marinette hadn’t heard anything since as Chloe had been expelled by the new principal that had replaced Damocles when the fact he was being bribed came out. Bustier had also been replaced. Marinette wasn’t sad to see them go- even if it was only recently she could go back to school after the shock to her system becoming an Akuma had been. It wrecked her metabolism again and she’d been stuck in a bed for months.

 Luckily, there was a friendly nurse around who was happy to take over for Akumas. Marinette has the best time hearing her rant about magic and how stupid it was she couldn’t tell who Ladybug was when she was in the hosptial. Often right in front of her door.

 Tikki found it hilarious to.

 But she had finally left the hospital and Tikki said she could go back to fighting, something she was glad about. She missed it, not that she’d admit it.

 But before that, there was a trial to be had.

 -0-

 “So you willingly did it-“

 “I did.” Alya interrupted the lawyer. “I willingly exposed her to sick children but that was at the urging of Lila who said she had to be lying. I believe the videos I’ve given show that.” Alya felt like a bug as everyone in the courtroom stared at her. She kept her chin up though. She would not be cowed by this lawyer Lila’s father got her. Apparently Lila’s nasty habits came from someone and that was her father. Her mother had been furious to know she was in contact with him and was not pleased by the lawyer but agreed to it.

 She didn’t want her baby in jail either.

 He was a good lawyer, knew how to come at things from all angles.

 But Alya had been Rena Rouge. The Fox Miraculous left marks deep in her soul, which made her slippery and sly. She had forgotten and gotten caught in lies herself, but she remembered now.

 And she would not yield. 

 “I wonder, if anyone actually knows that the reason she wants Marinette dead is because she called her out on her lies in college.” Snapped Alya, suddenly latching onto the thought. The lawyer blinked. “Didn’t know that? Lila is just angry that Marinette didn’t follow her around. That Marinette called her out.” The lawyer actually stepped back and turned to look at Lila who couldn’t hide her furious face fast enough. Alya smiled at her while the lawyer said he had to dismiss himself from the case now, his clients had been lying to him.

 Alya hadn’t been a good person for a while. She had followed a liar and had blinded herself to truth for a long time. But she had once been a hero, once been a good person. 

 She was going to start again.

-0-

 “So you thought it was like tabloids?” Dr. Shaw asked Adrien who sighed. 

 “Yeah I mean…” Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe if I hadn’t known the truth I’d have believed hem but when I did I saw how stupid they were and they reminded me of the tabloids. I thought they’d figure it out themselves. I didn’t think she was hurting anyone.”

 “But she did. Her actions almost caused many of them to miss out on incredibly important opportunities for their futures. It was lucky your friend Marientte managed to convince them it was a good way to show case their skills to the supposed contacts Lila had.” The doctor said and Adrien winced.

 “I… I didn’t want her Akumatized again.”

 “And yet Marientte was.” Adrien looked down. “Adrien, if I can be very blunt- you despise conflict and prefer a passive approach to it. While disliking conflict is fine, and I encourage you not to seek it out, not confronting people who you know are in the wrong isn’t always the best idea.”

 “...” Adrien didn’t want to think about it anymore. But he had to. His father had made him go to therapy and Plagg had told him it was a good idea for him to do so. He needed to get over this. “It’s easier when it’s not me.” Adrien blurted our. “Online I mean.” He quickly covered. It was easy to confront people as Chat Noir. 

 “Then pretend you’re not Adrien when you confront people.” The therapist offered and…

 That was really good advice.

Two months later…

 “Hello and welcome to the new Ladyblog!” Alya grinned on the screen Marientte was watching. “As you know due to certain circumstances I left this blog for the last few months. This is due to Lila and her actions towards my classmate and my own actions. However, this is a new start. First and foremost- this blog will now only contain facts. I have three people to check over anything I post that’s an article and needed to be researched who will do so. I spoke with Ladybug and she’s agreed to an interview with all heroes providing they agree-“ that was the only small crack, a shadow of sadness. After Miracle Queen everyone know she’d been a hero, and seeing a new fox must hurt.

 Marientte though was just amused that Alya was such a good actor. Sure she no longer used the fox but she fit the Turtle very well. And Nino was a fine Dragon, while Luka was a great Fox and Kagami was an amazing Bee.

 It hadn’t been to hard to manage to have an interview with them- though all separate. It was enough to show Paris they were human to.

 Marinette smiled,  watching as Alya continued her speech. 

 Things had changed since she’d become Plague Rat. Lila was now in jail back in Italy. Youth jail but still. She would spend two years there before being released on parole for either ten years or for the rest of her life depending on her actions. While she had lost her first lawyer they had been assigned a second one who had managed to get a psychiatrist in to look at her. 

 The man said she was either a psychopath or a sociopath. They had tried to say that meant she was allowed to be free but that was ended when the doctor pointed out she knew what she was doing was wrong. She just didn’t care. 

 She wasn’t allowed back in France and apparently other countries had also banned her. She was forever stuck in Italy.

 The former mayor was also in jail. Five years, chance of parole in two and a half, maybe less depending on behaviour. Nadja had lost custody of Manon after it got out she routinely used the girl to gather info and had put her in risk multiple times. Audrey was in jail, Roger had lost his job and was on probation. 

 Paris had experienced a revolution after Plague Rat. The new mayor was a woman who took no shit and was a hardass who was happily funding the police to find Hawkmoth, and bring him down. The new commissioner had fired all corrupt cops- Roger had been part of this sweep- and now Paris was thriving.

 Adrien as well seemed to have changed. He had formally apologized to her for his inaction and he was taking steps to be able to confront people. He’d already had a fight with his father about being a model and had leaked to the press how Gabriel treated him. Gabriel was in therapy now and Adrien had a social worker doing random checks on him. 

 “I guess even Akumatized I’m a hero.” She remarked to Tikki who chuckled. 

 “Perhaps. But I like you as you.”

 “Same.” She still has nightmares about what she’d done. She still freaked out about the hospital. Hell she was still recovering months later from the stress of being Akumatized while suffering from sickness and a horrible immune system. 

 But she was doing better. She was moving forward.

 And that was all she could do.

Tagged: @anastasian-dreamer @magicalfirebird @kibastray @thesunanditsangel @virgil-is-a-cutie @marinettepotterandplagg @heaven428 @sofmimis @so-freaking-done-with-people @moonystars14 @slytherinhquinn @spartanxhunterx

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 7)

A/n: We're... so close... I'm so excited.

Word Count: 5000+

Playlist

Masterlist

Life really only got worse from there, really for everybody. Most of all for Y/n, believe it or not considering what people like Bruce Wayne were dealing with these days.

Unfortunately it was truth.

Jerome and Y/n were separated. When having different cells didn't deter the two boys from being affectionate during down time or meals, Y/n was put into isolation where the only people he saw were officers that hated him or Dr. Quinzel, who had to pretend she wanted to "cure" Y/n of his "problem of the heart" or whatever. It was terrible for both of them, but if anyone else did it it wouldn't be two friends sitting down and talking through things. Shock therapy had been thrown around as an idea a few times. It was far worse ideas that Y/n hadn't heard about that had gotten Harleen to give in, if the taunts he'd been receiving held any weight.

Finally Y/n was allowed visitors. He didn't expect any, and he still wasn't allowed around the other inmates, so he was resigned to his life of solitude and misery.

Then Alfred Pennyworth paid him another visit.

"Alfred," Y/n croaked. His voice was rough from disuse.

The older butler took in Y/n's state and seemed to be taking it hard. Y/n was pale, his skin so sickly it was practically see through. It only made the bags under his eyes from lack of sleep as well as the bruises from the occasional beatings look even worse. He had started to gather scars- those hadn't been from other people though. In a world that only gave him pain, he found some solace in having some of it be at his own hand. It made him feel just a little more under control. Alfred seemed to be able to tell which wounds were from who, and he looked ready to kill someone- whether it be Y/n or the guards, it wasn't clear yet.

"Y/n... what have they done to you?"

Y/n smiled, trying not to cry. "They punished me for my sins Alfred. For murdering, which I did a bit of in my time I won't lie about that. For having feelings for Jerome Valeska, a mad man." Y/n's smile faltered. He was too tired to smile. He couldn't hold them for long anymore. Ever since being away from Jerome, it had been hard to find anything amusing. It was even worse when he wasn't allowed to be himself at all. When he was punished nonstop for being himself. When he couldn't talk or do anything he liked to do or see anyone he wanted to be around or go anywhere other than an empty cell far away from everywhere else. His life was completely out of his control and the people in charge were using their leverage over him to twist and bend him into the shape they wanted him to be. Except it wasn't working. Y/n was still a dreamer. He still did art and thought of other places and people and times. He still smiled when he saw Harleen. He still dreamed of Jerome. He still missed home and cared for people who had probably long stopped even thinking about him. He was still gay. And he was still dangerously, murderously angry. He had far too much free time and he spent probably too much of it daydreaming of ways to put the most painful ends on each of his tormenters.

Now he was calm though. Alfred was family. He was safe. He was part of home. Someone Y/n missed dearly from a time that was lost to him. A time he wished he could get back. Dinners with his parents and his brother. Hiking trips and tea times and bedtime stories. When things were easy and had a rhythm and made perfect sense. So what if he hadn't really been himself? So what if he was a little crazy? Attracted to adventure? At least he hadn't killed anyone, compared to nowadays where he was apparently completely insane and so addicted to danger that it just might actually kill him. So what if he hadn't been allowed to talk about being gay and have a boyfriend? All he'd gotten for that was isolation and violence.

That didn't matter. He didn't want to think about anything but Alfred and good times.

"For having feelings for Jerome Valeska, a man?" Alfred offered softly. Y/n shrugged and Alfred's face grew dark. It got quiet until the butler sighed, his shoulders sagging. Alfred had always had the same magic Y/n and Bruce's dad did. He seemed frozen in time, untouchable by death. Both men had seemed unbreakable. Now Alfred seemed worn down and just as old as he actually was. He probably wasn't very old, but only now was it dawning on Y/n that he was... old. Or at least he wasn't young. He was aged. He was getting on in years. He should have been married, with kids, living a peaceful life and watching those kids go to college and move out, alone with his wife to live out the rest of his days in some cottage somewhere in the most beautiful parts of England. He should be reading books and drinking tea and worrying about how tired he felt when it was only 9pm, even though he used to stay up until 3am in his youth. Instead he had no wife but two sons that had been thrust into his hands- both of whom were losing their minds and burdened by so much trauma and darkness that he most likely stayed awake at night and run over probability after probability of how he might go about helping even just one of them, realizing that he would fail them both because no one can truly save someone from themself if the person refuses to allow it.

"I'm sorry, Alfred," Y/n mumbled. His eyes watered as he looked at the man that had become a lot like a father to him, right when he needed one the most. Maybe things had been easier when Thomas was alive, but their perfect family wouldn't have survived through the teenage years in a place like Gotham. It would have been messed up eventually. Y/n knew that. "You're trying your best, and you make a lot of the right decisions. I know I'm not the easiest person to care about."

Alfred smiled. "Y/n, of the people I care about you are currently the easiest one to do so for. Maybe I'm not happy with your decisions and where it's... gotten you-" he wavered, looking round the room. Y/n actually managed a weak, broken laugh. A normal laugh. It wasn't manic or wild. It was small and short and wet and weak and broken, but it was also a very normal laugh. The sound everyday people make in situations that were somehow funny when they shouldn't be. It was a nice sound. It lifted the mood even more. "But you're still by boy, and I stand by you." He paused for a while, getting serious. "I don't know what I would do if I was in your situation, Y/n. Finding happiness with a man like Jerome. Finding misery in people you should be able to trust. I just-" He bit his lip for a second before continuing. "Be honest with me: was I ever one of the people that betrayed your trust?"

Y/n's eyes went wide. "No Alfred, oh god. I think you're the last good person left in Gotham. You make me happy and safe. You're the only one that does that anymore."

That seemed to bring some kind of peace to the old man. He looked around the room again and almost mimicked the laugh Y/n had made earlier. "This is crazy. Us finding solace in each other. How did we end up here, hm, Master Y/n?"

Y/n grinned despite himself. "I don't know." He wiped his eyes- he had begun crying. "I don't know Alfred." He sniffed. "You deserve better."

"Damn right I do," Alfred agreed. "And so do you." The men exchanged soft smiles. Alfred's expression changed after a second as he pursed his lips, tilting his head. "Are you and Jerome still...?"

Y/n's smile fell. "I haven't been allowed to see him. I don't know what he thinks happened to me. I kind of just disappeared. I left with you that day and then when I was brought back I was immediately put into isolation so-" Y/n shrugged.

Alfred sighed through his nose. "Do you... love him?" He seemed disoriented by the mere thought of someone loving Jerome Valeska. Of someone he knew - someone he helped raised, who he was close to and cared a lot about and had a lot of faith in - being in love with Jerome Valeska. "I mean, you don't seem..." He motioned with his hands, not sure how to form his feelings into words.

"Crazy?" Y/n offered. It was Alfred's turn to shrug. Y/n scoffed, amused. "I don't think I am. He's just... everything I ever wanted, you know? I can be myself around him and it never disappoints him. He likes me, as a person. I think he likes being with me. And he's funny and knows how to have a good time-" Y/n flinched. “He also knows how to not have a good time, though that's not really a thing to him. He's got a lot going on. I think he's broken a lot more than I am. I just- I don't know I-" He looked at the ceiling, trying to make sense of his feelings without sounding as insane as he was for feeling this way for someone who murdered for fun.

When Y/n looked back, Alfred seemed so uncomfortable. "But do you love him?"

Y/n looked at his hands. "I like the way he smells." His face scrunched up. "And how he holds my hand. His hair, and his smile. How he says my name and laughs at my jokes." Y/n looked back. "Am I crazy Alfred?"

Alfred seemed to think about that. "I think you're lonely and looking for someone like you, and I can understand that."

Y/n relaxed a little. "I think I'm crazy." He shook his head. Neither man smiled. "How do I get help for my condition?"

"If you're talking about getting help for liking men, I want you to take that back right now." Y/n looked at him in surprise. "There's nothing wrong with you, Master Y/n. Do you understand me?" Y/n paused but then nodded, and he felt a weight lift off of his chest. "You have a weird taste in men, but otherwise you're fine." Now they did both laugh, just a little. "You hang in there, okay? I'll try and see what I can do to get you out of here. Then we'll figure this out together, yeah?"

That sounded nice. "Yeah. I would like that." Alfred nodded.

Just then a guard came up. "It's time to go." Alfred sighed but they exchanged goodbyes and Y/n tried to keep a smile as his only hope of light left him alone in the darkness once again. Then he turned to the guard that was with him now: Peters. Y/n was beginning to learn names. Peters was a little softer since Y/n was young, but he still was one of the guards that hated Y/n for being gay, so there was only so much Y/n could say when it came to how much he did or didn't like the man. As they walked back, Peters once again disappointed Y/n. "You know I have to tell them about what you said in there." Y/n stopped moving. He hadn't thought about that. He'd been talking to Alfred. He always told Alfred everything, and he always told him such with complete honesty. Things had gotten easier because Y/n had been able to prove that the "therapy" was doing some good. He'd just admitted out loud that it hadn't made a dent in how attracted he was to men, or how he felt about Jerome. "He won't go as hard on you as in the beginning," Peters assured. He was talking about the first guard that had started tormenting Y/n. They didn't speak his name. Both of them, at the very least, hated his methods even if Peters agreed it was necessary. "You admit you need help. You'll get it. Your butler was wrong and you know that and that's what matters."

Y/n's eyes watered as he began walking again.

Was he really getting to a place again where he believed that something so basic about him really was wrong? He'd just barely, FINALLY accepted it and now he was being conditioned to bury it away again?

Fuck.

-

It was a nice break to get visitors. Alfred was nice to talk to, and despite the oddity of it, the two men got along well and cheered each other up nicely. Y/n was looking forward to seeing the older man's face when he was told he had a visitor. Unfortunately, Alfred was not the one waiting to greet Y/n that day.

"Bruce?" Y/n was far passed surprised to see his younger brother of all people on the other side of the glass, visiting him. Alfred hadn't said much but from the little he'd divulged about Bruce breaking out of the mind control and then killing some dude that had to do with the weird creepy tunnel Bruce had dragged him to and the dudes in it that had almost killed him. Y.n didn't see what was wrong with that - the dude was obviously bad - but it seemed to be ripping a new one with Bruce. He'd turned into a bit of a dick, putting it nicely. Left me alone in the tunnel then refused to visit me in the asylum. Firing Alfred. Partying and messing around with a bunch of people. It seemed the Wayne brothers dealt with their mental breakdowns very differently. Bruce partied and became an asshole- Y/n killed people and fell in love with psychopaths. One thing can be said: the Waynes sure know how to go out with a bang.

"Y/n," Bruce greeted weakly. He was obviously burdened by nervousness and guilt. As not to push it, Y/n sat down. Perhaps he didn't walk to talk to his tool of a brother, but it was better than isolation so he'd tolerate it. Y/n stayed quiet and allowed himself the luxury of being in the presence of another human being- one who didn't mean him harm or hate him for not being able to control who he was. Bruce spoke again first; Y/n was lost in the peacefulness of the quiet. "I'm sorry I left you in the tunnel." Y/n didn't say anything, so Bruce continued. "I was sort of commanded to kill Alfred when I was under mind control. I, uh, stabbed him. I could only carry one of you so I grabbed him and took him to the hospital. Ended up staying all night because I was terrified he was dead."

"And then you proceeded to treat him like shit all the way up until you did him a favor and fired him."

Bruce flinched. "I got emancipated too."

"Jesus, Bruce," Y/n cursed.

"I know," Bruce moaned. "I'm not handling any of the things well." He rubbed his face. "I wish you'd come home. I miss you." Bruce looked at his older brother, trying to find a remnant of the old Y/n underneath the bruises and coldness in the older boy's gaze. Both boys had come to gain something dark about them. Y/n's was more brightly colored, tickling in every dent and curve of his body and expression. Bruce's was sharper- paving paths of stones along corners and edges. Even now, Y/n was still the softer brother. Perhaps not so much had changed after all. "We've been through a lot, hm?" Y/n nodded, looking at his hands. "I-" Bruce cleared his throat, seeming to get emotional. "I don't know you are anymore. Please, tell me. I feel like you’re a stranger."

Y/n looked at him very seriously. "Probably because I am." Bruce frowned. "But we can change that." Bruce's lips immediately found a soft upward curve and Y/n took a second to appreciate it. It seemed he could bring some sort of smile or another out of even the angstiest of teens.

They spent the next bit talking. Bruce told Y/n everything, summarizing in chunks. Y/n did the same, breezing through his time with Oswald and then being in and out of Arkham and Jerome. That's where Bruce seemed to get caught up. "You really love him?" Bruce was making a face like he'd swallowed something both bitter and sour.

Y/n sighed, lowering his voice and moving his mouth closer to the receiver so only Bruce would hear him. "I don't know about love. But..." He shrugged. "I care for him. He matters to me." Bruce exhaled then nodded. "I don't have many other options," Y/n joked. Then he sobered, unnervingly quickly. "But even if I did, I don't know Bruce." He rubbed his face.

"Let's not talk about it. When we get you out of here-"

"We?" Y/n interrupted.

Bruce's expression became strained. "I called Alfred. I don't know if he'll come back but maybe... well, I know he'll definitely help me get you out. Maybe we can really be a family, you know? Make this town home again. You can talk all bout your art and have as much time as you want to make it."

Y/n felt odd. "You want to go back to how it was."

Shrugging, Bruce seemed to suddenly be distracted by everything, his eyes never finding Y/n's face, almost like the younger Wayne was avoiding his gaze on purpose. "So what if I do?" Bruce finally looked at his brother. "Don't you, Y/n? Don't you want to finally be done with this? Maybe we could go somewhere else entirely for a while. A long while. Bond again. Heal. It could be good for us."

Suddenly, Y/n was angry. "You know, I've been wishing for weeks that I could go back in time. I wanted it all to fix and right itself. But you know what? It won't. Even if the universe suddenly decided to let us be happy and a family or whatever, I wouldn't let it happen." Bruce leaned away, as if Y/n had slapped him. "I've killed people, Bruce. I'm not innocent and nieve and full of dreams or whatever the fuck anymore. It's been so long since I painted something I really liked or cared about- even before mom and dad died. Do you remember when I was first getting good and I started to draw boys? It was freeing and exhilarating and gave me an outlet of some kind- and an excuse to stare at cute boys my age. Mom found out and told me to hide it. She didn't want the wrong person to find it and use it against me." He scoffed. "Do you want to know why I'm into Jerome?" Y/n was being too loud, he knew. But he didn't care. "Because he likes me just as I am. A little crazy, a lot fucked up. He likes that things don't really bother me. He likes my twisted sense of humor. He likes that I'm willing to kill someone if they piss me off or get in my way. He acknowledges that I'm tainted and kind of stupid and I've completely lost my mind. I heard somewhere that it only takes one bad day for someone to lose it- well, Bruce, I've had a whole fucking string of them. And I'm tired of you and Alfred coming in here and pretending I’m still the me you both want me to be and that everything is fine and that we're gonna go back to normal and perfect and happy as if I'm not a murderer. As if I'm not GAY!" Y/n chucked the phone, causing Bruce to jump. "THAT'S RIGHT!" Y/n screeched as he whirled around the face the guard. "I! AM! GAY! You can beat me, torture me, isolate me, fill my head with a bunch of nonsense, but you won’t break me because I'm DONE being ashamed of who I am."

The guard looked disgusted. It was a different man this time- not Peters. "You're going to go to hell for your sins."

"For being gay?" Y/n actually laughed. "How dare you!" This was playful, light. Y/n had finally snapped. "You're sitting here saying that I'm going to go to hell because I'm gay? Sweetheart, you're missing all the far more valid reasons I'm going to hell." The end of the statement lowered to notes that left his voice gravely and threatening, all humor gone. As he’d spoken, he’d taken step after step closer to the guard until they were practically chest to chest. "Remember that I know how to kill you so no one will ever know it was me next time you even THINK of laying a single finger on me, do you understand?" The guard, calm before, now looked very nervous. "You people won't touch Jerome, and I hid behind that for too long. Touch me. I dare you." Y/n leaned close, his voice low as he whispered, "You never know... maybe you just might like it."

The guard made a noise halfway between a groan and a grunt and opened the door, pushing Y/n through and further into the Asylum, and away from him. Y/n winked at him and the guard closed the door, putting it between them like it was going to block them. Y/n laughed. There was power in fear. Power in accepting yourself despite everyone trying to tear you down; in staying together despite everyone trying to tear you apart. It was like when that idiot cut off Jerome's face. Jerome didn't pitch a fit. He adapted. That's why he was so terrifying. So powerful. Things rolled off his shoulders and left him unfazed. He just adapted, never letting pain even waver his smile.

It's time for Y/n to start taking a page out of Jerome's book. He was over being another brooding Wayne boy.

After that, things began to look up again. The guards quickly stopped beating Y/n up- all it did was make him laugh, or make him stronger as he began to fight back. Therapy stopped mattering- he spent all his talks with Harleen cracking jokes and being gay as fuck. Guards sneered at him and spit at him, but there were some good eggs in here and even more that Jerome had wrapped around his finger. All Y/n had to do was place himself at the right guard or flirt with the wrong one and suddenly he had plenty of room to move as idiotic, childish men kept their distance and jeered- as if words alone could do anything other than make Y/n laugh harder. He simply let it all stop affecting him, and so it did. Maybe it was a little crazy, to hear such terrible words or go to bed in pain, and find some kind of twisted pleasure in it. But I mean come on. These morons called themselves men of God then beat up on a teenage boy who was slowly learning how to take them down singlehandedly. They were like children on a playground: pushing girls they liked; calling people stupid names then ducking when they got in trouble; pulling ponytails and tripping kids and sticking their tongues out and pretending they were big boys as they squashed roaches only to run off squealing like babies when the bug didn't die the first time. They were pathetic. It was hilarious.

Word started to get around about Y/n's change.

Jerome hadn't known he was back. Last he'd heard, Y/n had dipped out with Alfred Pennyworth. He'd run home to Bruce Wayne and his old life with his tail between his legs, once again forcing himself to be someone he wasn't in a life he could be content in, but never happy. Jerome had been planning his escape for a while and had considered paying Y/n a visit to see if he could knock the Wayne boy into his senses... but he had other things to do and he had to keep his head down while doing them. When he got the real story, it was far more exhilarating. It also sounded much, MUCH more like his Y/n.

Jerome was going to get Y/n out too, and they were going to burn this stupid city to the ground together, side by side. And no one was going to stop them. Not sense or sanity or decency or embarrassment. Y/n had even shoved off his brother- the boy had nothing holding him back anymore. They were going to have so much fun...

Then Y/n returned to the public eye of Arkham Asylum.

After his therapy stopped working, the guards either got fired or gave up. Words passed like fire about what they were doing to Y/n, and the real reason they were doing it. Guards were supposed to be guarding. Some turned a blind eye when other inmates pulled shit, but it was absolutely not allowed to bring harm to the inmates yourself. Now free, Y/n waltzed around the Day Room cockily, like a peacock showing off his feathers.

"...Y/n?"

The boy looked over casually, expecting something else. The person was too timid and quiet to be Jerome, but he most definitely hadn't expected- "Oswald?" His showiness melted in favor of pure joy. "Oh my god!" He ran to scoop up the little man in a hug. Both of them laughed, leaning apart with matching grins. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I was looking for you when-" He swallowed, his smile struggling. "I hope you're not mad at me. I meant to come find you, but things got... complicated."

Oswald shook his head. "I know what it's like to fall in love, especially when said person makes you want to kill someone." He put a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I thought you were dead. I heard whispers about you with Jerome and then suddenly you went missing and I thought-"

Y/n's eyes went wide as Oswald grew quiet. "Are you kidding me? You're not getting rid of me that easy."

That seemed to lift Oswald's mood. The Penguin pulled Y/n aside, lowering his voice. "I'm getting out of here soon, Y/n. Please come with me. We'll figure out a way to do it- I can figure out some way to-"

"No," Y/n said immediately, stepping away. Oswald looked like he'd been slapped. "I'm your ally Oswald, always, but..." He shook his head. "Jerome is here." He swallowed. "I have another friend here too. She's like me, but only for, um, girls." Oswald nodded slowly, understanding but still a little sad. "You are important to me. Whoever's breaking you out- they'll take care of you, right?"

Oswald hesitated. "If he doesn't, I'll figure it out."

"Exactly," Y/n continued. "Jerome should be fine, but my other friend... she doesn't really have anyone else." Y/n struggled to find words. "Have you ever had someone innocent depend on you for real friendship? Someone who only you get, who you have to make sure is happy and safe? Someone you would do anything for?"

Suddenly Oswald seemed to understand perfectly. "Yes." Y/n frowned. What had he missed? Oswald was... different. "I understand, Y/n." He pat his friend's shoulder again and then stepped away. "I'll see you around."

Y/n smiled coyly. "Aw, are you going to come and visit me when you're out?"

Oswald rolled his eyes. They'd always been like this. Playful and easygoing. It was always easier to do in private, or when things were looking good. Now they had both, with Oswald getting out soon and their respective reclusiveness from everyone else in their little corner. Y/n seemed to be able to bring out a smile from Oswald, just like he always could from people. It was his pride- he could get a smile from Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth- even Oswald Cobblepott. Damn right.

They had a few days to catch up, and then Oswald got out. Y/n was happy for him. He hadn't seen much of Jerome yet, though, which had him a little worried. He would have heard if Jerome had gotten out- where was he? Surely not getting the treatment he had before- that would work even less on Jerome, and would have far more a consequence. Finally Y/n got a guard to fess up about it.

"Jerome's been holed up. He's usually in isolation, especially since he antagonized Oswald Cobblepoptt a little bit. But it seems to be more his choice of recent to be putting himself away. He seems to have a lot on his mind."

That didn't settle well with Y/n. Whatever he was up to, Y/n had the distinct notion that the little peace he'd finally managed to grasp was about to get ripped from him yet again. This time, he was willing to fight for it though. It was obvious that Jerome was avoiding Y/n on some level. Either that or he didn't care about Y/n at all. He hadn't been here when Y/n was finally let out, and he didn't seem to have done anything to try and get to Y/n while he was locked up either. Whatever he was up to, it either didn't include Y/n, or it was a move against him. It wasn't yet clear why Jerome would be mad at him... though the Wayne boy had some suspicions. If it came to that, then fine. Y/n would fight Jerome if he had to. It wasn't just about him now. He had Harleen to worry about. It would all be resolved in the end, and whatever the outcome, Y/n was determined to end up on top.

[wrestlingisfake]

Impact Fake Rankings, 5/9/2021

Men's singles division - babyfaces

Rich Swann

Trey Miguel

Eddie Edwards

Matt Cardona

Josh Alexander (Impact X champion)

TJP/Manik

Willie Mack

Jake Something

Petey Williams

Fallah Bahh

Men's singles division - heels

Kenny Omega (Impact world champion, AEW men's world champion, AAA mega champion)

Moose

Sami Callihan

Chris Bey

Ace Austin

Brian Myers

El Phantasmo

W. Morrissey

Rohit Raju

Mahabali Shera

Unranked: Hernandez, Johnny Swinger, Madman Fulton, VSK

(Wrestlers who are not listed on the official Impact website roster are noted in italics.)

The key story in Impact is that AEW's Kenny Omega has captured the Impact world title from Rich Swann, so all the top men in the company are looking to win it back. Moose vs. Callihan vs. Miguel vs. Cardona vs. Bey vs. Chris Sabin is booked for May 15 to determine Omega's first challenger.

Where the Omega storyline is headed is anyone's guess.

Whereas AAA doesn't give a crap if their champions do jobs in other promotions, AEW is supposed to have a policy against that sort of thing. So in theory Omega can't lose the Impact title, or even get pinned to set up a title match, until he stops being the AEW champion. In reality, though, I think something's got to give, although I don't expect it to happen anytime soon.

Right now no man on the Impact roster feels like a rising star worthy of beating Kenny-by-god-Omega in an interpromotional title match. So Impact's to priority is to make that star, and they should probably take their time with it. Moose feels like an early favorite for this role. Swann, Miguel, or Edwards could do it, but it'll take more work to build them up. I can imagine Alexander, Austin, or Something in that spot someday, but to get it done in 2021 will be a massive undertaking.

Meanwhile, TJP vs. Williams vs. Austin vs. Phantasmo vs. Raju vs. Acey Romero is set for May 13 to decide who will challenge Josh Alexander for the X title. I would guess that Phantasmo, on loan from New Japan Pro Wrestling, will end up in that title match.

Men's tag team division - babyfaces

FinJuice - David Finlay & Juice Robinson (Impact men's tag team champions)

Beer Guns - Chris Sabin & James Storm

Crazzy Steve & Black Taurus

Men's tag team division - heels

The Good Brothers - Doc Gallows & Karl Anderson

Violent By Design - Rhino & Deaner & Joe Doering

It's kind of crazy how everyone's so worked up about Kenny Omega and Jon Moxley busting through forbidden doors that "NJPW team holds Impact tag title" is just kind of a footnote. If I was Don Callis, my strategy here would be for FinJuice to keep the belts long enough to defend them on New Japan shows, and maybe even lose the title to another New Japan team. Picture this: Tama Tonga and Tanga Loa beat FinJuice in the summer, to set up the Guerillas of Destiny vs. the Good Brothers at the Tokyo Dome.

Of course, that leaves most of Impact's in-house tag teams waiting around for something to do. I'd give them title shots now and then, but otherwise I'd keep them busy in various tournaments and such to determine top contenders. Of course to do tournaments and such you need more teams, which would create an excuse to introduce new teams and have them stick around for more than a one-off. Then after Impact gets their belts back, they'll have a big strong tag division to fight over them.

Now, watch them not do any of that, because lol TNA.

Women's singles division - babyfaces

Taylor Wilde

Rosemary

Jessicka Havok

Alisha Edwards

Women's singles division - heels

Deonna Purrazzo (Impact women's champion)

Tenille Dashwood

Susan/Su Yung/Susie

Kimber Lee

Just having eight active women puts Impact way ahead of any one brand of WWE. Obviously, if you combined the rosters of Raw, Smackdown, NXT, and NXT UK, you could blow Impact out of the water in terms of depth and talent. But WWE's never going to do that, are they?

Women's tag team division - babyfaces

Jordynne Grace & Rachael Ellering (Impact women's tag team champions)

Women's tag team division - heels

Fire and Flava - Kiera Hogan & Tasha Steelz

Unfortunately the revival of Impact's women's tag title went about the way I expected, and we've just got two teams endlessly fighting over the belts. Once one team wins the feud, I expect the other to drift apart just as a new one emerges to take its place. It's no way to run a tag division, but sadly it's the state of the art in women's wrestling.

No matches in 30 days: Acey Romero, John E. Bravo, Kaleb with a K/Suicide, Larry D, ODB, Raj Singh, Shawn Daivari, Tommy Dreamer

Romero is set to appear in an X division match next week. Although the X division is sort of meant for cruiserweights, there's officially no weight limit. But the fact they left Willie Mack out of the match in favor of the biggest, chonkiest guy on the roster feels like a rib. What this means for Romero's team with Larry D remains to be seen.

It's been 18 moths since Raj Singh wrestled a match. A year ago that wasn't unusual, as a lot of US-based wrestlers were sidelined by the pandemic and/or travel restrictions. Almost all of them have since managed to come in and work at least a few dates. Anyway, this is your occasional reminder that Raj Singh still exists, at least on paper.

Inactive

Alex Shelley (awaiting COVID-19 vaccination)

Eric Young (leg - ACL tear)

Heath Miller (hip/abdomen - adductor tear, multiple hernias)

Shelley's situation is unusual in that he's decided to stop wrestling for fear of passing COVID from the arena to his physical therapy patients. I would think he's been fully inoculated by now, but I wouldn't blame him if he believes that's not enough to guarantee his patients' safety. Only Shelley really knows when he'll be comfortable returning to the ring.

Young is expected to be out for at least six months. Heath's situation really sucks, because he got hurt in October and it took six months just to find a surgeon who could fix everything in one operation. I can't begin to guess what his recovery time will look like, but I wouldn't count on seeing him in action for a good long while.

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 33

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 12.491

Warnings: feeling everyone is against you, self-hate, cursing, mentioned addiction, mentioned past bullying

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however, feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness.   Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Thanks so much to my betas @spootilious​ and @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ for your continuous support and WELCOME TO ALL THE NEW PEOPLE WHO JOINED THE DISCORS SERVER! I am so happy you are all here! Anyone can join: Invitation:https://discord.gg/Y2WNAND

Also I thought I’d get out my stuffy Ko-fi page again since the story is two years old now and eating up huge portions of my life, in case anyone wants to support me. Reblogs and comments are just as welcome, though ;)

Chapter 33

Knowing how awkward Logan had been the first few days of waking up after a sleepover, and fearing an even worse reaction with Patton after falling asleep tangeld around each other, Roman cautiously chose to peek into the silent room the next morning. He was a valiant hero, after all. He would save his partner. 

Upon finding them still asleep - and fully dressed - Roman stormed the room and cheerfully forced himself between them, asking for kisses and breakfast and knowing full well there would have been an awful lot of stuttering and apologizing on both sides without his glittering presence. He grinned smugly as Patton sleepily giggled and snuggled into his arms.

Upon entering the kitchen, Virgil softly asked Patton if he was okay, as he had every morning now that the baker thought about it. Logan on the other hand flushed and tiptoed around him until Patton cornered him. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry.” He apologized once they had a moment to themselves and were able to settle down with some tea and cocoa, respectively, on the couch. Knowing Logan needed to have things explained carefully, he tried to put his stupid emotions into words that would cause as little harm as possible. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all, it’s all me! I just got so used to having things go bad every once in a while, when I do something dumb, that I started to expect it. I sometimes – I don’t know - I keep seeing bad things that aren’t there. It’s silly. I’m sorry.” Patton rambled, curling around his warm mug. 

“Your responses are far from silly, Patton. Please do not belittle yourself for your emotions.” Logan responded gently. His voice was deep and warm. He gazed at Patton’s pale, small hands quietly, at the light falling onto his silky curls, at his smooth, lovely face. His chest felt full with longing. The patissier was radiant in the sunlight bathing him, making him look bright and innocent and so brave. Logan could hardly breathe with how much he felt, suddenly. With how much he wanted Patton’s happiness. The urge to make things right was like an entity on its own, pushing at his ribcage, urging him to speak. He selected his words carefully. 

“Something must have caused your worries. It would calm me greatly to understand which behaviors have caused you to respond the way you did so I may prevent them in the future. I truly wish to make you feel safe in this flat. Please support me in my endeavor to understand.”

Patton couldn’t help but feel stupid and guilty as he was confronted with such honest, unjudging support. He swallowed hard. The difference between the image he had made up and the man begging him to be allowed to take care of him couldn’t be more obvious. Logan’s dark eyes were so warm when he looked at him. He wasn’t smiling or complimenting him, or telling him how great he was and promising him gifts and such, but Patton still felt like he mattered more than he ever had. Logan’s attention was entirely focused on him, his tall form angled towards Patton, as if he were everything he cared about. 

He wanted to apologize again and tell the detective that it was all his fault, that he shouldn’t worry. He also knew that Logan had developed a talent for seeing through his excuses. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Patton had told him how to help. 

“It really isn’t your fault, Logan. Please believe me! It’s all in my confused head, you can’t help it when I make things up. And it’s not just you anyway, which shows how much silliness I’m coming up with - you really can’t trust my little head.”

“I do not understand. Did somebody else make you uncomfortable?” Logan asked, straightening in alarm. Patton felt like he had been shoved in the chest. It took him a moment to realize that the fact that Logan had automatically assumed he alone was to blame had hurt. Why was it that they wanted to care for each other so badly and still kept rubbing each other the wrong way? Patton just wanted - he just wanted to give Logan so much. He wanted to touch him in ways that made him smile, not doubt himself.

“Well, it really is all me, when If I’m being really honest!” Patton hastened to remind him. “But I guess it’s really – whenever someone fights or makes loud noises or – or argues about something and gets angry – and that’s okay of course! It’s all my fault and you are not doing anything wrong, it’s all in my head! But- that just, it just makes me an itty bit anxious, you know? I mean- you probably don’t, being a strong detective and all. I just worry that you guys might get in a fight or that I did something wrong. I do that plenty after all. But like I said, it’s all me being oversensitive, you should just laugh about it and go on with your day. I’m sorry for being a bother!” 

Logan grew very silent after Patton’s explanation. Sightlessly staring at the tea in his hands, he tried to categorize the exchanges of the last weeks in the apartment. He had thought that they were all happy here. There hadn’t been any fights, any dramatic outbreaks or terrible mistakes he needed to fix. Virgil had grown so confident and Roman was happy. The pets were healthy and he had thought… he had thought Patton had everything he wanted. What arguments had upset the gentle man? Roman and him had been getting along as well as always. Virgil hadn’t had any visible adverse reactions to his therapy that he could think of either and he was clearly growing closer to Roman. 

Had he been angry? Had he fought with one of them and hadn’t seen the effect it had on Patton? He just couldn’t understand what his friend was referring to for a long moment. Everything had been going so smoothly between him and the others. What could he have been doing that would be considered aggressive by a victim of abuse, such as the pâtissier?

It dawned to him quite abruptly. He’d been angry indeed. Just this morning he had grabbed Roman and growled at him for being dramatic and causing them stress over his gloves. His irritating partner had been howling about it too. Loudly. He had hardly noticed the sheer amount of noise he was making anymore; or the fact that he, himself, was apparently constantly frustrated with him. He didn’t mean it, after all. 

The realization that Logan was indeed annoyed at one thing or another all the time came as a shock to him. He had been so content. He hadn’t noticed…

It was so natural for him to complain and lecture others, especially Roman, who liked to have his attention. It was part of their dynamic. He liked to grumble and his partner liked to wail and whimper and demand he be treated with admiration and given the pity his various plights deserved. They bickered like siblings because this was what had gotten them close to each other in the beginning of their friendship, when they hadn’t felt comfortable enough to ask for friendly cuddles. It was their way. He showed his affection in this manner. Whenever he grabbed Roman, his friend would lean into him or playfully wiggle about, letting him carry his weight. When he wanted to initiate contact, he woefully sighed or whimpered and draped himself over Logan. They shoved and bickered and roughhoused with each other to show their mutual affection and wish for contact. 

Had Patton seen something he had missed? What if he had misinterpreted their interactions all those years? Was Logan actually insulting Roman? Was he unhappy as well? Was he secretly resenting him?

What about Virgil? He’d been so hurt and disappointed by the men he’d trusted. Did he feel threatened? 

Logan felt like a sudden weight pressed on his chest. It hurt so badly he flinched from the sudden rush of agony. He drew a sharp breath, trying to control his twisting features. He was suddenly afraid he would start to cry and be absolutely helpless to stop it. Biting the inside of his cheek hard, he barely managed to place the tea on the table. His hands were shaking. He had to compose himself. Losing control and falling apart in front of Patton would be too much to bear. 

His thoughts kept circling, defying his attempts to force them into order. What had he done? He couldn’t think clearly. His breath hitched. He felt like everyone was looking at him. Like they were talking about him, wishing he was gone. Like they used to in school, like the other children used to, wherever he went. He had thought they had been getting along. He had thought they had liked him – he’d tried so hard to always help with their exercises and tell them about the things he cared about, he had thought that they wanted to hear-  but he’d misread the situation. He just couldn’t understand them. The shock of learning he had been hated by the other students in his class without even knowing, it had felt nothing like the possibility of having forced his family to live with a man that hurt them. 

His mind was racing, churning up more and more scenarios that horrified him. There were so many reasons why they could feel forced to stay with him, to pretend they liked the man that was actually making them miserable. Virgil had nowhere to go. He would have to accept any situation that kept him out of harm’s way or out of prison, and Logan had been the key to his freedom. Roman needed someone to look after him, being all alone in the world without a steady presence, who else would he have turned to, but the man who’d bullied him into living with him? Patton had been pulled out of the steady relationship that had been his life and was now essentially homeless, helpless to go anywhere else, for fear of the man that might be waiting for him, not even able to rent his own place since his finances were still entangled with that man’s. Was it like the last time, where he had been the one that alienated everyone, the one who didn’t understand when he hurt feelings, the one everyone talked about behind his back? Was he suddenly going to be alone again? Before Roman, he had eventually given up. He had isolated himself to protect himself from this feeling, certain he couldn’t bear it a second time. And he had been right. His chest felt like something was breaking. 

He stumbled as he rose, barely seeing what was in front of him through his blurred vision. He couldn’t be looked at anymore. Every look felt like an assault. He needed to hide. 

“I’m sorry. Please- please excuse me. I am so sorry.” He stuttered, shakily wiping his eyes and nearly losing his glasses. He hit his shin on the edge of the coffee table but kept going, feeling his face heat with shame. 

“Logan, wait please! What’s wrong? I’m sorry I upset you, please-” Patton pleaded. He was frightened. Logan had scared him and now he was trying to placate him so he wouldn’t hurt him again- 

This was too much. 

Logan stumbled into the corridor, feeling panic well up in him. There were footsteps behind him, following him. He barely made it to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him too loudly. He hadn’t meant to do that! Every sound he made was too loud, he was doing everything wrong and he hadn’t even noticed. 

He hardly managed to turn the key with his shaking hands, needing the little bit of security it afforded him like the air he breathed. Tears were streaming down his face now. He couldn’t stop remembering Patton’s fear when he had reached out to him in his flat, broken and bleeding. What had he put him through after he’d thought he had rescued him? He’d thought he had finally learned to understand, but everything he believed was wrong again. 

He sank down against the door, covering his ears with his hands so hard the way he squished his glasses against his skull hurt, rocking back and forth in his curled-up position. It was too much. Everything felt overwhelming to him!

There were voices on the other side of the door, loud and rushed. 

 “The fuck happened, man?” Virgil growled. Stress was making his voice rougher than intended. He had seen Logan flee from the room, completely out of it and couldn’t help the tide of protective anger. 

Patton flinched, backing away from the door. His eyes were bright. 

“I- I don’t know! I messed up, I think. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Virgil!” He cried, hugging himself and looking smaller than he had in weeks. 

Fuck. 

Virgil took a deep, calming breath and told himself not to be an asshole for once. 

“It’s okay, Pat. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m, like, really fucking anxious right now, but I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. It happens. I’m not mad at you, man. Please, just- Roman, deal with this?” He asked, knowing when he reached his limit with emotional bullshit. His worry for Logan was already too much and seeing Patton hurt was frankly agonizing. It was more than he could bear. Roman would stay calm and be big and gentle and reassuring no matter what was wrong. He was amazing like that – nothing like Logan and him, who were, if he were quite honest, a mess when if came to vulnerable, emotional shit.

“Hey, it’s all good dearest Patton.” Roman crooned at the frazzled baker softly, reaching out to him with hands that were so tender. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll hug it out? Our brilliant Virgil will fix everything and we fabulous darlings will get ourselves some well-deserved cuddles. Sounds good?” 

Patton didn’t really get a chance to worry about making a decision since the detective was already bundling him up in the warmest embrace, tugging his little body against his bigger one. Roman allowed them a moment to rub his cheek against soft curls and hum a soothing melody. 

Having moved them both back to the couch, he made sure to pull the smaller body between his legs and wrap him all up in his embrace. Keeping up a calming chatter, he rubbed his hands over the slender back and through his hair, hoping to slow his frightened little heart. 

“I’ve got you, sweetest Patton. No one is angry at you. All will be well, I promise. We love you. Take a deep breath for me, okay? Logan will be just fine. We’ll always fix everything together and no one will be hurt or mad. We’re a family, we’ll get over the drama and have cocoa. That’s it.”

His voice was deeper and softer than usual, lacking all of the shrill, loud notes that had recently made Patton’s nerves flutter fearfully. He sounded certain and loving. Squeezing his eyes shut, he listened to his tender words. 

 Virgil pressed his ear against the wood, trying to determine what to do. He couldn’t hear Logan at all and he didn’t want to upset him even more by demanding anything. Should he call Remy and make him talk to the detective? His phone was out here though, and he’d need to get him to open the door first. 

Pushing the emotional mess onto someone else sounded so tempting, but he knew Logan would be ashamed to talk to his old friend like that. Also, he had an idea about what had happened. Patton had grown frightened of- everything, really. He was starting to put it together properly only now that he had seen just how afraid he’d just looked. He guessed the same insecurity he had gone through himself had to be expected. But of course, it would be different for Patton. Virgil had thought Logan was the right one to fix it because- because he had fixed everything for him. He trusted the man so much because he gave him so much more stability and safety than he had ever experienced before. His touch always felt safe to Virgil and he always trusted him to listen and understand, because the way their minds worked was so similar in a way.

He was a fucking idiot. 

Logan was acting like a father to him, platonically loving him and protecting him. His touch was safe. Virgil’s expectations towards him were safe. But to Patton, he was something else. Patton had been abused by the man he’d loved, so the relapse would of course make him project onto Logan most because he was closest to a romantic partner. The baker liked him. Their cuddles, despite how innocent and well intended, were never as platonic as Virgil’s and Logan’s. Of course he would think that if anyone was going to grow abusive as he clearly expected, it would be the man he unconsciously saw as a potential lover. If he kept projecting the fear that asshat had instilled in him onto Logan, they were in for quite a ride. 

Virgil sighed. He should have seen this coming. He was such a fucking idiotic idiot. 

If Patton had told Logan he was scared of him, Logan would overthink for sure – because he was also an idiot. He was probably in there thinking everyone was afraid of him and feeling like he had run over a baby bird or some shit. Someone with a pathological need to help would of course spiral right into self-hate. Hello, old friend. 

Well, Virgil was nothing if not a manipulative bitch. 

“Logan?” He called softly, knocking on the door far more quietly than he wanted to. 

“Logan, you’re scaring me. Please let me in! I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself, I can’t lose you too. Please let me in!” He begged, making his voice high and frightened and feeling absolutely no remorse whatsoever for once. 

The door was fumbled open as soon as his apparently fearful words had left his lips. The fucking sap. 

Logan was disheveled and looked like he’d tried to wipe his tears off to hide them. He looked heartbroken and painfully shy. And he’d still opened the door because of Virgil’s pleading. 

Fuck him, Virgil loved him so much.

He gave the startled, wide eyed man a hard push in the chest, angry at being forced to feel so much. How dare he think Virgil didn’t love him?!

“You’re such a- a fucking-” 

He lunged at him and buried his face in the conservative sweater, squeezing so hard Logan wheezed for breath. 

“You’re such a moron, man! Now hug me!” He demanded, holding on for dear life. Clearly utterly confused, Logan obeyed unsteadily. 

“You clueless idiot.” Virgil growled into the cable-knit, hating how wet his voice sounded. Why was there always so much fucking drama in this flat?! 

“Shake all those stupid thoughts out of your head and listen to me, okay? You don’t get to be a paranoid piece of shit, that’s my job!” 

Logan drew a breath to complain and Virgil just knew he would try to tell him that he very much was not an idiot and that Virgil was not allowed to insult himself. Well, Virgil wasn’t going to let him turn this around onto him. However, he wished he was better at this. He wished he could just drop this emotional mess into Remy’s lap and hide under the covers where he could come to terms with how uncomfortably much he cared for Logan. He squeezed him tighter – effectively cutting him off before he could speak – pressing himself as close as he possibly could. There were no words for the things he felt. Patton and Roman probably had some; plenty, in fact. He didn’t, and neither did Logan. But his hands were uncertainly brushing over his back and Virgil liked that helpless, platonic affection very, very much. 

“You absolute dimwit! Don’t ever think we don’t – that we don’t – we want to be here with you, okay? I trust you and I never trust anyone, cause I’m not a moron who adopts people, but I trust you so fucking much and I’ve had to make too many fucking confessions lately; so can you please just believe that we are your family and that Roman wants to be your fucking puppy; and Patton is messed up beyond belief but he’s fricking enamored with you; and that I’d really like to end this conversation right now, alright?? Don’t make me say anything else or I’ll knock myself out on that dresser!”

Unsurprisingly, Logan was at a loss for words. Not that he could have said much, considering how tightly Virgil was currently squeezing his ribcage. His little delinquent’s hug really was quite aggressive. 

He didn’t feel frightened either. His face – as much as Logan could see of it – was bright red. The poor thing was clearly embarrassed and tired of baring his feelings this way. Logan couldn’t shake his insecurity, though. He could feel obligated to calm him, after all. Virgil was so dependent on him. Feeling lost and just wishing he could bury his face in the once again tangled, purple hair he liked to groom, Logan tried to make his embrace as safe and comfortable as possible to his little charge. How he wanted to protect him from the world. The frame under his hands was still so thin and slender. He didn’t know how to articulate the rush of warmth he felt. He wanted to ask more questions, desperate to be reassured the things he wished for so dearly were true, but he felt Virgil’s tiredness, and he shared it. Trying to understand the way people talked - silent and illogical just with their bodies and gestures and the insinuations he failed to understand – it was still confusing to him sometimes, and when he thought he had gotten something wrong, he tended to overanalyze every interaction he had had with that person until he didn’t trust himself anymore. He was just tired. 

Embarrassed and stressed out of his mind, Virgil hid his face in their embrace and wished he could just crawl under the heavy, dark covers of his bed right now - the bed Logan had given him with all the books and space for his things and that citrus geranium that endlessly frustrated him with its wilting leaves. Pitying the poor, nerdy fool for his useless attempts, Virgil had started programming a sensor to monitor the plant’s humidity and sunlight intake for Logan. He had grown worried about the amount of annoyance that one dying plant caused the detective, okay? He didn’t want the dude paying his metaphorical rent to have a fucking stroke, that was all. And maybe he just wanted him to be happy. He had thought it might be something they could do together, though he hadn’t dared approach him about it yet. He didn’t want to annoy Logan with his nerdy ideas, and he hadn’t done something like this in so long. If his fucked-up mind made him mess this up he could never live it down. However, Remy’s voice telling him to quit being a drama queen and like, gush with the other massive nerd about his nerdy projects was clear in his memory. He didn’t want to talk feelings anymore. He wanted to huddle together with Logan and just fucking lose himself in something that made sense. Was it too much to ask to just be together? He thought that perhaps, it actually wasn’t. 

Making a decision, Virgil suddenly used his wiry muscles to push his body against Logan’s, toppling them onto the bed. He wasn’t going to talk this out. No sir, not this time. They both needed a fucking break. 

Logan huffed in surprise, especially since he was unexpectedly being pushed around by sharp elbows and bony shins until he had been shuffled into a position where Virgil could comfortably tuck himself under his arm and lay his head on his shoulder. Wrestling his phone out of his hoodie’s pocket, the younger man pulled up a still blank looking app that showed little else but two buttons on a white screen. 

“Wanna show you something.” Virgil muttered half into his wool sweater before launching into an explanation about the app he was programming. Logan was instantly intrigued. Wrapping his arm around his little one, he pulled Virgil close to navigate the still almost empty display with him, getting lost in the fluttering, enthusiastic feeling a fascinating project gave him. Virgil’s app could monitor the factors influencing growth and compare them to different locations in the flat or different amounts of moisture in the soil. Perhaps this way he could finally attempt to grow a lemon tree once again. He’d failed three times before giving up. The Failure still irked him.  

Before long, both men had comfortably cuddled together, discussing the advantages of a stainless-steel sensor as opposed to the inferior plastic ones other projects were using. Virgil was warm and small in his arm. His muscles were loose and he made sure to push and shove at Logan when he wanted to curl up more or wanted a certain space. Everything about him spoke of trust. 

Though Logan attempted to keep his touch respectful, being acutely aware of the fears that could awaken in his little charge, Virgil gave him no signals of discomfort. His heart beat steadily where his chest was pressed against Logan’s side and his breathing was even and calm. He sounded pleased when Logan complimented his ideas. Undoubtedly, Roman would be able to tell him if he really as relaxed as the factors he was monitoring were suggesting. He could see it all from nothing but a look. 

Roman never failed to tell him when he had messed up or needed to back off. Didn’t that speak of confidence? They had some difficult conversations about his actions in the past and his partner had always trusted him to tell him the truth. Certainly, he had told him plenty of times that he was limiting Roman’s heroic brilliance or ruining his entrance and such, but he had never complained about feeling hurt by Logan. Wouldn’t he at least have told him? But what about Patton? He had always suffered in silence rather than asking for help – or to stop. 

Logan gasped as bony fingers stabbed him in the side. 

“You’re thinking too loudly, dude.” Virgil complained, feeling ignored. He shouldn’t be surprised Logan needed things spelled out for him. He was Logan after all. 

Sighing as if he was forced to do something terrible by disentangling out of the embrace that had been warm and really fucking nice, he rose without much enthusiasm and yanked on Logan’s arm. 

“C’mon, you poor sod. Let Roman tell you how much he loves you. He might want to lick your face.”

“There will be no need for any of that.” The detective grumbled, reluctantly letting the smaller man pull him along. He didn’t know if he would be brave enough to face Patton without the aggressive interference. His face grew hot at the memory of the way he had fallen apart in front of him. He felt quite humiliated by his reaction. Patton had trusted him with his fears and he had made it all about himself and had made a fool of himself. Without the control he protected himself with he felt vulnerable. Naked even, as if his defenses had been torn away. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to be seen. 

Feeling his friend’s feet drag with shame, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan’s middle and offered him strength through their silent contact. He still did not want to talk about feelings, it was exhausting, but he could always lend the support of his body. He was learning to use it in different ways, lately. 

Patton and Roman both sat up straight as they entered the living-room. From the way Logan hung his head in the futile attempt to hide his blush, it was clear to Roman what his friend needed now. It was his favorite partner’s love! 

Giving Patton an encouraging pat on the shoulder on the way, the young detective wasted no time wrapping Logan (and Virgil – who was conveniently wrapped in Logan’s arm, sue him) into his embrace. His little wildcat gave an irritated little growl but since he was largely ignored in favor of pecking annoying kisses all over his partner’s face, he let the cuddling slide. After all, they both smelled good and were comfy and shit. 

Logan turned his heated face away into Virgil’s hair, grumbling incoherently. He was too hot under the sweater and starting to get the feeling he needn’t have worried about Roman and Virgil after all. The little barista was comfortably leaning against him, letting him take his weight, and his partner was – he was reasonably certain – trying to annoy him in order to lighten the mood. He had overreacted once again. They must think him a dramatic child. He felt very, very inadequate. 

Perceptive as always, Roman angled them so his friend could hide his burning cheeks from sight. The poor man was probably mortified at showing emotions in front of the people who regularly suffered emotional accidents around him. 

“All is well now, my adoring fans. Prince Roman, beloved hero and winner of the Medal of Valor is here!” He cooed, hoping to get a rise out of them and lighten the mood. Virgil snorted. He made sure to push himself close to Logan and allow him to feel the way he was holding on to his sweater for support. 

Virgil would have liked to stay in this position longer and allow Roman to take the weight of the attention onto his broad shoulders, but Patton was still cowering at the edge of the sofa, wide eyed and anxious. His shoulders seemed very small. Though he was entirely silent, his small hands were nervously fidgeting with his long sleeves. He looked lost. 

The barista ached with pain for his friend. He had put himself through years of abuse to shield his piece of shit boyfriend and had blamed himself for his issues whenever he was suffering of whatever bullshit he got himself into. Patton was all about saving people. Having hurt someone he loved must be the worst kind of torture for him. Add to that the fear of retribution and he must be in one hell of a mess. And of course Virgil had attacked him after Logan’s little breakdown. Of course he had. 

Though he was torn about forcing Logan to face his fear of having frightened the baker, Virgil gently tried to free himself from the tangled embrace, which wasn’t easy since he was squished in the middle. 

Being especially weary about restricting his youngest guest, Logan immediately released the shorter man from under his arm, pulling his limbs close to his chest. Roman pounced and pulled his partner in again, humming to him lovingly. He would be patient to take this one step at the time. 

Virgil was feeling less than patient, to be quite honest. Why did they keep stepping into piles of emotional shit when all they wanted was to live quietly with each other and sometimes ogle Roman’s ass? (that might just be him, though) He just wanted Logan and Patton and Roman - the fucking, special dork - to be allowed to be fine. Was that too much to ask?!

Of course, despite Virgil wanting nothing but to protect his friend, Patton saw the frustration written clearly all over the slim features of the moody young man. His breath hitched. 

Aw shit. 

Virgil may be emotionally stunted to the point of still kind of hating Remy for making him want to talk to him, but he wasn’t blind. Especially to Patton. It was easy to see why he was ending up in those emotion-shitpiles. He kept aiming for them and jumped right in. He’d thought Patton would focus on Logan because – well, he still remembered being scared out of his mind as he had sat at his desk, cuffed and desperate and Logan had been furious about the pain of his partner. It had made sense, too. Logan was the responsible adult in the flat and Pat was used to the men responsible for him to turn on him, but it wasn’t just him. Virgil was doing it too, and more often than he had noticed initially. 

Making sure to appear nonthreatening – which normally wasn’t hard, considering how hunched and slim he still was, he pulled his sleeves over his hands and looked at Patton through his purple bangs. The baker swallowed visibly and attempted to smile at him, uncertainly. 

“Look, Pat, can we talk? It’s all good though. I wanna apologize. You’re not in trouble. ‘s fine.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes. Swallowing hurt, suddenly. His throat felt tight. 

Patton didn’t speak. He was very pale.

‘You can do this.’ Virgil reminded himself as old, familiar pain rose in him upon being surrounded by suffering loved ones. ‘You took care of your mom and you’ll take care of him now. You can fix this. Just start somewhere.’ 

“Um, I – I think I messed up, I guess. ‘m sorry, man. I was really out of line before and I think I kinda scared you just now. Can we, um – can we talk about that? Please?”

Apparently finding the courage to speak in the face of Virgil’s scratchy voice, Patton finally responded with forced cheer in his voice. 

“Don’t you worry, kiddo! It’s all fine! There’s nothing to worry about. I get a little messy sometimes but that’s all my fault. You all don’t need to take it on your shoulders, please don’t do that! I’m really sorry for upsetting you all! This whole thing is my fault – please, just ignore me and don’t let silly little me worry you! I’m really sorry.” He rambled, glancing at Logan still squished in Roman’s embrace. He bit his lip, his eyes suspiciously bright, before he smiled at Virgil once again. Seeing Logan hide in his partner’s arms, clearly feeling too ashamed to face them, appeared to unbalance him. 

Yes, Virgil got that. Logan was supposed to be strong and seeing him insecure hurt in all kinds of ways that resonated deep in Virgil, pulling sharply at old wounds. Seeing the person you relied on weak and helpless cut you as if you were a child losing the protection of a parent. It never stopped hurting. Roman had situation that figured out, though. He joked quietly with his partner and finally simply pulled them both to the ground like a playful child, ignoring the complaints, and settled them against the bookshelves covering the first part of the living-room. Nicodemus had clambered onto the lowest shelf and wanted attention. With a little hop, he jumped onto his human’s shoulder, quieting his annoyance. 

Hidden half behind the couch and visually separated from the others by the wooden beams loosely enclosing the little library, Roman finally managed to give his friend a bit of security by offering the safety of his large body to lean against. They were still close enough to be there for the others and later reassure Logan, but for now he had a moment to compose himself again. 

That worked fine for Virgil. He didn’t know how he would have been expected to ignore the terrible fear for his protector, had Roman not calmly and sweetly taken over soothing him. Come to think of it, maybe the dork had the right idea with the cuddly, comfy shit. 

“Um, hey… how about we sit and figure it out together, okay?” He offered tentatively. The kitten and Cat were on the couch as well, unravelling a ball of string and in Cat’s case trying to bite it into submission for tangling around her little hand-paws. 

Patton nodded obediently, quickly rushing to clean up a place for them by tidying away Roman’s drawings and his knitting needles. Whatever progress he seemed to have made with Logan yesterday seemed to have crumbled in the face of actually making their most reliable protector crumble from his words. Virgil knew those moments where no amount of rationality could cut through the pain of having failed the person you love. Even if you had given up your education, your dreams, your time and health and safety, every failure replayed in your mind, pressing you down with guilt. 

Virgil tried to swallow his memories through the heaviness in his chest. He ran a suddenly shaking hand over his face. He had relied on Logan and Patton so much to give him strength and structure and confidence and now one of them was still silently cowering on the floor, uncharacteristically small and fearful of the confrontation with Patton and still flushed hot with shame, and the other looked at him like he expected him to shout. His Patton. It was a position he had never expected to be in, anymore. One of the reasons he had left the Scorpions was because he couldn’t forget the pale, frightened face of the slight baker and now they were back, full circle, knee deep in a pile of emotional shit. 

“Hey, no no no, c’mere, kiddo.” Patton cooed suddenly. His hands were still warm while Virgil’s had grown weak and cold. He pulled Virgil on the couch with him and without hesitation, into his arms. His little body folded against the barista like a cat’s, flexible and trusting. Running his fingers through the purple mess, Patton rocked him slightly. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry for scaring you, Kiddo. I just get like that sometimes. I know I shouldn’t and it’s stupid, so you can just ignore it and it’ll go away. There’s no reason to feel bad at all - you are doing wonderfully. Please don’t think about it. I love you so very much.” He promised, his voice tender and honey sweet. He nuzzled their faces together and curled them up comfortably, making Virgil feel so so small. Like a child in his mother’s arms. Taking a shuddering breath, he held on. 

“That’s okay, Pat. I get like that, too. Just… different. I um – Remy says I get aggressive instead, and try to – to push people away and expect the worst of them – cause… cause of the – because after my mom… when she got – she got sick I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Patton mercifully whispered against his hair, impossibly loving. Virgil hadn’t even realized how irregular his breathing had become. He had almost told him about- his heart hammered in his chest with a sudden rush of terror. What the fuck had possessed him?! 

After counting his breathing to get his shit together, Virgil tried again to make his point. 

“Pat, I’m trying to- to tell you that I get it. I totally do. You go through all that shit and it fucks you up – sorry, I’m sorry – it messes you up and you expect to see sh-stuff around every corner and – and that’s fine! Remy says it’s normal and if we talk about it with – with them, they’ll get it. We’ve got triggers, man, and that’s okay. We triggered Logan a little bit and that happens, too. Now we know, right? I’ve got triggers and you’ve got them too, and we walked right in cause we’re all morons cause we don’t talk – cause it’s f-ing horrible. But – can we talk about it? Please?”

“Oh, of course. I’d like to know what makes you and… and Logan anxious. I didn’t want to hurt him.” Patton mumble quietly, very aware that the detective was still in the same room and they hadn’t cleared up the situation yet. His heart raced with anxiety over his reaction. 

A little grunt signaled Roman wordlessly telling Logan his moment had arrived. With his elbow. 

The detectives slunk around the couch and gently folded themselves on the free space on the couch, Roman shamelessly curling close to his partner and laying his arm over the armrest against Logan’s shoulders. Though he didn’t seem quite able to look Patton in the eye yet, Logan hesitantly spoke up.

“I believe a substantial amount of anxiety could have been prevented on every side had our communication been more efficient. I would like to discuss the situation in a nonjudgmental setting. Would you be willing to talk to us, Patton?” 

The baker fidgeted with Virgil’s hoodie nervously, shrinking a little under all the attention. The younger man in his arm gave him comfort, though. 

“Of course! I’ll do anything to make it okay. I’m really sorry I did this.” He promised softly. 

Logan took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with it. Patton feared he was trying to hold back his anger. They were all here and stressed because of him. He had thought they had figured it out together yesterday but this time, he really was the one who had messed up. Never, in a million years, had he expected Logan to fall apart like that because of something he had said. He was still shaken to the core by the detective’s sudden vulnerability. 

“Patton, may I ask you to stop apologizing?” Logan asked gently, finally looking at him through slightly reddened eyes. “There is no need to blame yourself. You have done nothing wrong. No one is upset with you. We merely wish to prevent further misunderstandings.”

“Oh.” Patton muttered, suddenly realizing just how much he’d been apologizing with a rush of shame. Trevor had told him how irritating his stupid repetitions were. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The words were out before he had any hope of composing himself. His breath caught in his throat, heat flooding his cheeks. He barely swallowed the urge to apologize for failing even at this simple request. Not knowing how to fix the situation, he fell silent, waiting for them to scoff at him. He had been doing so much better yesterday, why was he here again? Couldn’t he learn?

“It is alright, Patton.” Logan offered mercifully. 

“But… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” Patton added, somehow trying to convey how sorry he was. He couldn’t seem to forget the look on his friend’s gentle, handsome face. 

“I never believed you would harm me intentionally, Patton. You could not have known that your confession would cause me such anxiety. Addressing a topic that needs to be discussed is your right and I would like to encourage you to continue to bring such issues to my attention without fear. It lies in the nature of psychological triggers to cause severe reactions despite appearing insignificant to others. Perhaps, to improve your comprehension of the situation, I ought to explain that I was taken back to a memory from my childhood. Due to the fact that I am autistic, I read situations wrong quite frequently and thus unknowingly alienate my peers. I am afraid my failure to understand the discomfort you have felt in our home has forcefully reminded me of the possibility of a misinterpretation of the personal relationships in my life.” 

Patton stilled, trying to take Logan’s words in. There was so much that hit him right in the heart. Logan was autistic? He felt like a light had been turned on suddenly and was illuminating their interactions in an entirely different way. He wanted to ask a million questions! This actually made a lot of sense. His head was spinning with the revelation and the new understanding it brought. He could picture little Logan quite clearly now, trying to understand the things that were still difficult to him now, but must have been impossibly confusing back then. He must have been so hurt by the other children! Pain shot through his chest like a living, furious thing ripping at his organs. Little wide eyed, nerdy, vulnerable Logan appeared before his mind’s eye and it felt like a punch, like he was drowning in sorrow. Patton had put him through that again. He was such an idiot, how could he have missed it? Logan had doubted himself so badly and he knew how much that hurt. Patton should have known sooner, Logan had obviously struggled with reading a room, but he had blinded the baker with how skillfully he handled all of his messes with his deep, commanding voice and confident hands. It was just that sometimes he lost control and showed how hard everything must be for him. Though he badly wanted to apologize again, to tell him how sorry he was for causing all of that stress and anger, especially after Logan had comforted him, he wanted to reassure him even more.

“I’m – but – you know that I care about you, right? I was just being stupid. Please don’t think that I or anyone else doesn’t trust you or doesn’t love you so much! You are the best friend I’ve ever had. You protect me and help me and I really – it’s really all my fault, you did nothing wrong! You are the smartest, kindest, most great and amazing man I’ve ever met! Ever! You’re a savior – my savior. Please believe me, everyone here loves you so much!” Patton exclaimed, helplessly grabbing Logan’s hand in his attempt to make him see. There was so much he felt for his friend, his heart was so full, it would burst if he felt more for Logan. He could barely handle himself from how much he wanted. He had never, ever wanted someone to know he was loved as much as him. 

The detective startled as his hand was clutched, gently returning the hold. His smile was bittersweet. 

“Thank you, Patton. Your kindness is appreciated. Perhaps I ought to have told you two sooner. It is possible that I still, subconsciously, attempt to pass for a neurotypical person. A foolish attempt, certainly. I will try to be more honest with you from now on.” 

“You’re not that bad, man.” Virgil mumbled bashfully, awkwardly trying to break the silence that had fallen over them as they processed the detective’s words. They clever young man was clearly unsurprised by Logan’s confession. Roman smiled at him for his contribution, silently comforting his partner. 

“I am… relieved to learn our relationship is not damaged beyond repair. And I would like to remind you once again that you do not need to apologize or take the blame for my issues. They are quite beyond your control.”

“What my bumbling, brilliant best bud is trying to say-” Roman chimed in, giving his friend a break, “is that we all have our little issues. They give us character and that is charming! They are part of our exciting origin stories! Even I, fearless Detective Roman Prince, owner of the Medal of Valor, have my own demons to vanquish.” He boasted, raising his free arm dramatically to pose. Suddenly feeling the supportive, undivided attention of his friends rest heavily on him (even the pest sniffed at his nose), he grew a little more quiet. Talking about his triggers was not fun, even for one as marvelously brave and exceptionally well adjusted as Roman. However, if he wanted his lovely dorks to finally open up, someone needed to make the start. 

“I… you know my sister died from an overdose, right?” 

Patton gasped. 

Or maybe not. Oops.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry for springing that on you, fair Patton! But all is well, please don’t fret. I shall tell you about it all another time if you like. You truly mustn’t worry about me.”

Patton nodded bravely, clutching onto Logan’s hand hard and holding Virgil so tightly he wheezed a little bit. Roman worried for his ribs. Yet knowing this conversation must be had in order to coax Patton – and perhaps even his stormy night –  to open up, he marched on.

“So, because of my sister, I don’t handle drug abuse and such issues as glamorously as I usually do. And… because of… reasons…” Roman trailed off lamely, not trusting Patton’s bright eyes enough to also tell him about his neglectful childhood. Forcefully cheerful, he continued, “Yes, so sometimes when people ignore me intentionally or not or things get too silent around me and no one pays attention to me I feel really sad and lonely, like no one will ever love me again.” 

Smiling brightly, Roman was met with deafening silence. 

From the other side of their group, Patton lunged at him and yanked him into his arms, squishing Logan and Virgil between them with strength born from pure protectiveness. He appeared emotional beyond words. 

Roman floundered a little, unbalanced by the awkward hug. It wasn’t so bad, though. Patton had somehow managed to climb half into Logan’s lap in order to get his arm around Roman, conveniently allowing the detective to hide his still flushed face in the baker’s neck and cushioning him between Patton and his rat. Poor Virgil had simply been dragged along – which he would have never allowed anyone else to do. To prevent him from tumbling off the couch, Logan had wrapped a quick, steadying arm around him, drawing his skinny body close. Virgil pawed and shifted against them a little, growling and grumbling, before sagging between them with a defeated sigh. The fuck was he supposed to do?! Tell Patton to release the suddenly iron tight grip on his hoodie? He didn’t think so. 

“Uh, are you alright, dearest Patton?” Roman inquired tentatively. The baker nodded, obsessively nuzzling the young detective’s face with his own like a bespectacled cat. It was hard not to feel soft and faint when he was loved so obviously. Carefully, he brought his arms up to wrap around Patton – and Logan as a consequence, and Virgil on the other side, safely pulling him against his large body, lending stability to their embrace. The barista folded his slender limbs just right to fit between Logan and Patton pleasantly, just where they needed him for their comfort. 

“It’s all good, lovely Patton.” Roman rumbled softly, filling the space between them with his deep, smooth voice. “We all fight our dark little demons that cling to our hearts, trying to tell us how small und unwanted we are. They are quite wrong, though, and sometimes we need someone to show us that.”

Remembering the path that brought him to confidently bump shoulders with Logan or push his head against his side for cuddles when they were working too quietly made his insides swell with emotion. It was a path both Patton and Virgil were walking right now; one they could join Logan and him on. 

“Life is like a dance, my dear.” Roman murmured into curly brown locks. “Even when you found the right partner, learning the rhythm and the steps has to be done together, whether it’s a passionate tango where you twirl and dip your partner or a comfortable waltz where you quietly hold each other close. Even Logan and I had to find the right way to twist and twirl around each other. And we stepped onto each other’s feet plenty.”

Logan huffed softly, remembering the tense beginning of their partnership all too well and not missing it in the least. 

“We were blessed with quite differing tempers, Logan and I.” Roman elaborated lightly. “I wanted his attention badly and tried to mold myself to what I believed to be his wishes. Every failed attempt to gain his approval felt like a person failure and discouraged me greatly. At the same time, Logan wanted my glittering friendship but felt irritated since he lacked the competence to appreciate my performance!” 

Logan groaned, tentatively adjusting his hold on Virgil, staying very still otherwise, so as not to make Patton uncomfortable with their close proximity. 

“Our cooperation suffered from a server lack of communication, as it turned out.” He added to Roman’s explanation.

“True! I mistakenly believed my stiff partner to wish for a boringly rugged, brash colleague to brood with – like Bruce Willis and such heroic, bland heterosexuals. There really isn’t a lot of material to mold my performance after, let me tell you! A travesty! But alas, we solved that pesky issue and I got to be the blessing you know and love!” Roman boasted, jostling a grumpy Virgil with his constant need to move around to embellish his story. 

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, the young detective shifted so he could gently capture Patton’s chin to make him look at him. He wanted him to understand how much he understood his continued insecurity. The baker shyly returned his gaze. 

“Having found our style doesn’t mean everything was suddenly easy, though. Friendship takes time, and practice.” He explained kindly. Releasing him again, he made sure to smile lovingly at the unbalanced little thing. 

“Logan tried to show – in his own way – that he accepted me. But we were still two different people with different needs. I was cared for. For a long time, however, I suffered days where I could not see it. Logan needs a professional routine and sometimes silence to be able to work and I… I don’t do well with silence. When we worked a case, I sometimes got lost in my head, thinking Logan ignored me or that I had done something wrong, and he was pushing me away on purpose. As a response, I tried to gain his attention and approval any way I could think of – alienating and irritating him in the process.”

“Oh RoRo, I’m so sorry!” Patton mumbled tearfully. 

“Oh no, Patton, love, it’s all good – all’s well that ends well, right? Logan might have been unsure of what to do with a colorful delight such as myself, but having learned how much I wanted our friendship, he was determined to be there for me.”

Logan, having tensed during the story about their frictions, relaxed very slightly. 

“Being the literal nerd that he is, he decided to do what worked last time and took me out for a drink. Cocoa, this time, since alcohol is vile and disgusting, seriously! And he asked me what I needed from him, which is charming, but also slightly lacking in presentation – a renewed declaration of platonic love and perhaps a bouquet would not have gone amiss- ow!”

Feeling Logan’s annoyance and knowing he was still too mortified to draw attention to himself, Virgil took pity on him and poked Roman on his older friend’s behalf. All of them cringed at Roman’s high-pitched wail. 

“Alright, alright!” The dramatic detective whined, trying to get back to the story. “So, my dearest, most beloved partner made an effort to adjust to my needs and we talked – dreadfully boring, I know. No grand declarations of friendship for me! However, we found ways to make me feel more welcome and cared about, which took a bit of experimenting, as you can imagine! Oh! I was sure Logan made a book about it with graphs and such but I never asked!”

The stubborn silence of the older detective spoke volumes. Roman grinned brightly. 

“See, lovely Patton, the result of our efforts! Before learning to understand each other I would have missed the romance of a journal dedicated to my wellbeing – which I wanna see, pronto! And I would not have gotten quiet cuddles during his silent phases to be reminded of his undying devotion to me, or have his bickering, which is his attempt to reach out and shower me with the attention I so deserve!” Roman cheerfully explained, his eyes shining. He loved remembering all the little ways Logan tried to make him feel loved. 

“A dance between two people can look all sorts of ways, you know?” He elaborated. “Ours includes little ways of supporting each other which might not even look that nice to the uninvited spectator. How is one to know that our bickering and roughhousing is a sigh of our epic bromance, grown through trial and tenacity?”

Quietly, Logan spoke up finally. 

“I am afraid Roman is giving me too much credit. He actually handled our relationship with much more skill and subtlety than I would have ever been capable of. I had long feared making him uncomfortable with my unapproachable ways and complaints and had few, ineffective ideas about how to rectify the situation.”

Curiously, Patton eased his death grip on Roman, wanting to give Logan all of his attention. Their desperate knot of limbs eased into a comfortable huddle, thanks to Roman and Patton adjusting their hold on their partner and kiddo. 

“You must certainly have noticed that I tend to come across as rather cold and intimidating, which I am aware of - mostly. Unfortunately, I did not yet know how to make myself more approachable. Additionally, I had offended more than one colleague with my inappropriate reactions and feared a repeat my mistakes with Roman. As a result, I attempted to limit my verbal interactions to the bare essentials, or – frequently failing to uphold this intention – talked too much and too clinically out of nervousness. Roman invested a considerable amount of care and effort into the improvement of our communication, which I am grateful for. He supported me by patiently explaining my failures and helping me improve, and even by taking control of situations that have threatened to emotionally overwhelm me.”

“Awww!!!” Roman gushed, grinning so brightly his eyes shone and his whole face lit up attractively. He was stupidly pretty and Virgil was not okay. 

“There is no need for applause, my beloved fans!” The young detective exclaimed, raising his manicured hands to calm imaginary masses. “That bouquet I never got will do just fine! And that journal about your attempts to friend-court me – I demand you hand that over!”

“There is no such thing as a ‘friend-courting’ journal.” Logan growled, shuffling about feeling uncomfortably bashful in their cuddle pile with Roman half draped over his back. He didn’t dislodge his partner’s chin when it came to rest on his shoulder, though. 

Patton watched their grumpy, yet somehow soft interaction though a now clear gaze. Logan looked annoyed and flustered and Roman was being a demanding diva, yet they were intertwined in friendly cuddles. The baker was still feeling a little tense whenever their deep, rumbling voices dropped low (or high, in Roman’s case), but there was no denying the tenderness filling their interactions. Ducking his head close to Virgil, he was reminded of how thoroughly he had messed everything up today. Their love had always been so obvious to him and now he could barely look at Logan without shame. 

Shifting uncomfortably under Patton’s arm, Virgil started fidgeting with a loose thread on the soft cardigan he was pressed against. 

“When I got here, I thought Logan and Roman would lock me in.” He muttered softly even as his face heated and his heart started hammering. Nausea was already making its way into his throat, yet he knew Patton needed to know he wasn’t alone in this. 

The pâtissier tensed, his breath catching with surprise. Startled, he looked up at the pained faces of the detectives looking down at the bowed, purple head. 

“They didn’t, f’course. I was just being stupid paranoid. Logan gave me a key and a room I could lock and Roman was – he was a good guy. They both were. They never asked for anything or pushed me or… I was making a lot of stuff up and kept making everyone nervous cause of it. Logan had to arrest me, you see, cause of the Scorpions. I wanted to leave and he didn’t know that yet, cause I’d botched it, and I’d hurt Roman and… I should’ve been in jail and I didn’t understand why I wasn’t. They even risked their lives to save me which I just didn’t get. So, you know – I made up reasons for their kindness for a long time and started looking for clues to support my ideas and I kept reading things Roman did wrong, and he knew. I was a screw up and kinda anxious and aggressive and Logan kept calming me and Roman kept miserably trying to not scare the screw up, which is nice, man. Thank you.” He muttered softly, daring to glance up at Roman for just a moment. 

“But it’s okay, man. I’m starting to understand them better. There’s stuff I can do here – stuff I’m good at. I’m getting more comfortable with myself and that makes me less anxious about them and that makes them more calm – especially Roman. Logan is just – he’s really good at handling all that. He’s calm and - steady. And now I feel like… like things are getting better? But even that doesn’t mean they are perfect. I get… I still get issues and nightmares and stuff and I get angry, kinda a lot. Somehow, Roman knows how to deal with me when I’m like that. I don’t – I have no idea how he does it.” Virgil mumbled, trailing off softly. 

The group was very quiet, sensing he had to gather his courage. 

Clearing his throat and making extra sure not to look up from the protection of his bangs, Virgil took a deep breath. 

“I thought I’d gotten it under control, with you. Helping you. But I messed it up big time, didn’t I? I scared you and I wanna explain it to you, you don’t have to forgive me.” He cut Patton off before he managed to speak, gently capturing his soft hand and squeezing it, trying to swallow the pounding, frantic emotion brewing in him. 

“It’s just - I’m just mad at the world for not leaving you the fuck alone. Things keep happening all the time to you, and Remy and Logan try to help calm me but I -  sometimes I can’t deal with it any other way! I just hate that you get hurt. I just- I just want you to be happy. That’s why I’m mad. Not at you, but… for you, I guess.”

Patton sighed deeply, feeling tears gather. His kiddo. He was so small and frustrated and helpless and Patton could see what he meant. He understood, suddenly. 

“Oh. I hadn’t- I hadn’t thought of that. I just thought you’d be mad at me because – because I-”

“No one’s ever really mad at you, man. You’re a literal fucking angel.” Virgil interrupted tiredly.

“Language!”

“Sorry, man.” Virgil muttered demurely. But fuck him, he was tired. Emotions. He wanted back into Logan’s bed and snuggle up with him. He had the feeling if he fell asleep with his older protector, Logan would end up being the big spoon and that sounded quite safe. 

“I get it, though. I’m doing this a lot to you, aren’t I? I get mad all the time cause I’m an aggressive screw up and you have to take the fall. I didn’t notice I was making you nervous, but I’ll figure it out, okay? We can make you feel safe if you help us understand what’s got you spooked.”

“Okay.” Patton agreed finally. “But you have to stop saying you’re a screw up! You’re not! You’re the smartest kiddo I know and I am so proud of you! You mustn’t feel bad because I get a little anxious sometimes! I just love you a lot and want things to be well!”

“Sure, Pat.” Virgil promised, deflating after his emotion-dumping was finally done. He could see the worry on Patton’s face, see his mind working with his attempt to figure out what exactly Virgil had been afraid the detectives would do to him, but that horrifying conversation could wait till another day. Preferably in ten or twenty years. Or never.

Meanwhile, Patton was looking up at all of them. At Roman comfortably draping himself over Logan’s back, letting him take his weight while he wrapped his arms around his older colleague, lacing his fingers over the others stomach. At Logan still trying to avert his gaze despite keeping a gentle arm wrapped loosely around Patton’s back, and at Virgil who was involving himself in a staring match with Cat who had rolled away, clearly contemplating whether he wanted to drag the moody raccoon into their mess. 

Cat hissed at him. 

Bristling, Virgil hissed back. 

“I- um.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to Patton. 

“I wanted to thank you, for opening up and telling me all that. I know it must have been hard.” He murmured softly. 

There was so much he was still thinking about. Their exchange was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The way they all had learned to look out for each other because they had hurt their friends unintentionally gave him hope. These men were so kind and tender with their loved ones. They truly thought about their friend’s problems and tried to change in any way they could to be what the others needed. He had wondered how men such as Logan and Roman, who were so different, had managed to become so in tune with each other. It seemed like they had worked hard to get where they were and now, they were offering the same effort to Virgil – and to him. He was awed by their willingness to forgive his failures and the pain he had caused. He’d grown used to bearing the pain alone and being the one to keep trying to adjust, to do better and offend less and please a partner who wouldn’t be pleased with himself. He’d never been looked after this way. 

With renewed confidence, he smiled at them, genuine and grateful. 

Finally, Logan smiled back. 

Though his posture was still not as confident as usual, the expression transformed his face and made him look soft and approachable. Like the kind of man that would soothe a defensive creature like Virgil with calm words or heal Patton with his gentle hands on him. 

“There is no need to thank us, Patton. Considering the amount of times we have misunderstood each other, a conversation is long overdue and will benefit all of us.” 

Patton’s little heart fluttered at the smooth tone of that deep voice. It was like Logan was intentionally speaking more quietly in order to soothe him. The pitch made his dark voice all kinds of rumbly. Patton felt a little nervous flutter upon being spoken to that way. Trying not to let his silly reaction show, he plastered a big smile onto his face. 

“Okay. Alright. So it looks like it’s confession time! Buckle up, kids!”  

Roman grinned at him encouragingly. 

“Okay.” Patton said again, trying to sort out his thoughts and make the words come. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak it was as if something lodged itself into his throat, snatching his breath away. How did you tell your friends who had washed the blood off your body and accepted you into their home that he had been uncomfortable in their care? It was impossible. 

Virgil leaned away from him briefly to snatch up Cat, somehow avoiding the sharp claws that tried to free her from emotional support duty. Snorting, Virgil pressed her back against his stomach and settled her into his lap, aggressively loving her. 

“You’re a bristly beast, you know that? You keep pulling threads and gnawing on the furniture and you have an attitude.” Cat snapped her jaws at him. “That’s okay.” Virgil promised. “I dig it.”

Wrapping his arms around her more comfortably, Virgil allowed her to leave if she wanted to. She bit his thumb with sharp little teeth before curling her fluffy, striped tail around his elbow and settling in. 

Patton laughed softly, recognizing the attempt to make him more comfortable with his confession. He loved Virgil so much. 

“Okay.” He whispered one last time. “So, I – I sometimes get a bit antsy, because Trevor and I – we used to fight a lot. I can be a little difficult, after all. And I guess I got a little used to looking for reasons to worry, since there was always another thing to argue about. And you all didn’t do anything wrong! You are all wonderful and I know you wouldn’t do anything mean! But… there are some things I felt- that made me a bit… insecure, I guess.”

“What things are those, sweet Patton?” Roman inquired gently, keeping his voice soft. 

“Oh, just little things. Nothing to worry about! I’m just overly nervous, is all! I guess I’m just too sensitive.” Patton confessed, trying one last time to avoid making his friends uncomfortable. Neither of them took the bait, though. 

“Pat, it’s okay.” Virgil nudged him with his shoulder before grabbing Nugget’s middle as it tried to climb over them to get to its human and settled it into his friend’s arms. It curled its head and rolled into a purring ball.

“Yes, right. Sorry.” Patton amended. “So, I just worry sometimes, when I get nervous from time to time and start expecting things, when someone raises their voice it makes me a bit frightened. And… you guys just bicker with each other sometimes -  when Roman starts complaining I get worried you guys might fight and when Logan has something to complain about because we make a mess, I worry that things might get… bad. And… and sometimes when Virgil gets annoyed at something – which I think is wonderful! I love that you’re passionate – but I – I just hear nothing but the tone, sometimes, and not what is being said. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

The group grew very quiet after Patton’s confession. The pâtissier was stoically looking at the kitten, trying to hide the gathering tears, while the men in his life tried to come to terms with his confession.  

Finally, Roman reached around Logan and wrapped a warm, large hand around Patton’s where they were cradling the kitten. “It’s not stupid, sweet Patton. Your feelings are natural and you deserve to have them taken into consideration.” 

“Yeah, man. We’re really sorry.” 

“I too, would like to extend my apologies for causing you discomfort.” Logan added quietly. “I should have realized how our behaviour would affect you, considering your experiences.” 

Patton quickly rubbed at his tears and tried to find his smile. He was usually good at pulling himself together and chase away everyone’s worry with a joke, but his tears just kept coming. It was the warmth of Virgil at his side, so slender and still supportive like a solid, graceful steel construction wrapped around him. Logan held him in a tentative hug and Roman towered over him, gently caressing his fingers buried in fur. Patton was warm and surrounded by loving people with tender hands on him and a raccoon that was drooling on his sleeve where it had rested its head. It was so much better than he’d ever dared dream of. He’d forgotten how much he had hoped for this. For a home. The realization that he was right in the middle of this group, cradled and protected and wanted washed over him. Even though he was being stupid. 

“Thank you. So much.” He muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Please don’t change. I’ll be fine. I’m so happy to be here.”

The three men exchanged a look over his light brown curls, silently promising each other to come back to this topic and to make sure Patton always knew he was safe no matter how much their bickering got out of hand. For now, their beloved baker appeared tired enough to fall asleep in their arms. 

“We are pleased to know you are enjoying our company. The feeling is mutual.” Logan noted carefully. “However, if it would be acceptable to you, we would like to continue working on making you feel safe with us like we have done for each other before and like you have been with us since the beginning of our friendship. It will not cause us any trouble. Additionally, I would like inform you of an offer Dr. Emile Harris asked me to relay to you.”

Virgil perked up slightly, hopefully raising his head to listen.  

“Remy mentioned that he would like to visit us soon in order to spend time with me and personally continue his sessions with Virgil. Additionally, he would like to bring his husband with him who he explained appears to be quite fond of you. Roman has graciously offered to take the children to the park to entertain them… if you are amenable to being in the company of Remy’s husband, of course.”

Wiping his eyes dry with his long, soft sleeve, Patton thought the offer through. Remembering Emile with his sweet smile and warm eyes and his gentle playfulness with his children made him feel safe already. Talking to him had cleared so much up. Perhaps he could help him figure things out before they got out of hand next time, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone again. He’d really been silly. Sitting here, on this very couch he’d dreamed about, with his very own adorable baby kitten in his hands, he could hardly understand how he could have forgotten how much he loved it here. He never wanted to forget again. And he wanted to see Emile. It was difficult not to tell Logan it was all fine and to try not to cause more effort for everyone, but he could feel so clearly how much his friends wanted him to get better. Like Patton wanted with Virgil. He wanted his kiddo to heal and be happy and Roman to never feel unloved again and he wanted Logan to know he was so so cared about and just perfect the way he was. He wished he could see how amazing he truly was. Patton had so many feelings about his man. He longed to… do so much. Make him feel so much. They were all here to take care of each other, and if he wanted to look after them, perhaps he should let them help him as well. 

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” 

Roman grinned, immediately cheered up by the idea of going to a playground, dressing up and playing knights and princess and fighting dragons. Virgil, too, seemed to nestle against Patton more calmly. Reassured that his family was feeling secure, Logan finally relaxed properly in their cuddle pile. His breath left him in a deep sigh as Patton carefully leaned against him, rubbing his cheek against his wool sweater. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the silky curls.

***************************************************

End of chapter notes: So we ended in a cuddle pile again because who needs variety.

Once again, if you guys feel like supporting me, here’s the old Ko-fi page link :)

The app Virgil is programming wasn’t supposed to be in the story, actually. It just jumped at me that it would be a cool project from them to share because Virgil needs to build things again and Logan loves his plants and data. And ACTUALLY my boyfriend is making that very same app because our f*cking lemon tree keeps dying. I’ve bought him another one last year and it is constantly on the brink of death. The Failure is real. We manage to make it grow leaves and they keep falling off again. Every.fricking.time. The fucker. (We’re both having issues at this point). The app will be available sometime this year with his sensors and all. If you have a plant that keeps dying on you and you are as stupidly stubborn as Logan, I’ll post a link and you can nerdily try to save it. I’ll keep you updated because my boyfriend is making an app all on his own and I am just so darn proud of him!!! (And Virgil can program it with Logan which will be adorable and get Virge out there again).

ART:

@olcia46​ made another edit I’d die for. I just think they are so pretty! The colours, the outline of the boys, all of it!

and I’m not even certain if I shared this LOVELY picture of @galaxy-sketch​ of Virgil and Nicodemus sitting on a counter yet but it’s lovely enough to look at twice!

Next Chapter