#I feel okay with giving a bit of advice as clearly this dude isn’t exactly smart by any sense of the word lmao

[r0semultiverse]

Hi!!!! 💕 sorry to bother you i mean no disrespect,i really don't know what sort of opener to get you to talk to me but I'm a sugarmommy, and i'm pretty new here. I'm looking for an honest sugarbaby, it doesn't necessarily have to be SEXUAL, and i'll reward you with a fair weekly allowance....looking forward to hearing from you..💕feel free to send me a dm

Oh my goodness! 💜 You know what’s kinda nuts about this offer though? 😃 Your friend or rather your alternate account @winniel55 actually said the same exact thing to me!

She then deleted her account when I asked for any of her supposed sugar babies to verify that her offer was legitimate! How interesting! 🧐

I’ll give you a little tiny bit of praise here. You fixed your first time mistake of not having a blog populated with posts. You now also have a profile icon and pronouns. Where you fucked up is 1.) sending the same exact message excluding 2 emojis and 2.) all of the posts on your account are recent and shows your account was made very recently. You’re going to have to backdate posts and make a lot more of them as well as getting more creative with your message in order to scam me. Also your account name reeks of bot energy. Nice try though! This was definitely a better attempt! 💜

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Hack-San

You know, it's honestly amazing how creative this show can get. After four seasons and almost one hundred episodes, the writers are still finding new ways to make Adrien an incredibly unlikable character, and they don't even know how much of an asshole they're making him out to be at times. It's kind of like the opposite of The Producers.

Yeah, this review's going to be a little more ranty than usual, in case you can't tell.

Let's get into the fifteenth (chronologically the sixteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Hack-San

We start off with Marinette pretending to be sick so she doesn't have to go to visit her aunt in London and stay to protect Paris in case an Akuma attacks and also because the animators haven't had time to render the city of London yet for the next Miraculous World special. Like all of her other excuses, it fails, and Tikki, as always, fails to actually give any meaningful advice.

And it's not like there's a Miraculous with the power of teleportation that can help Marinette get back to Paris if she needs to, much like how she planned to do that in an earlier episode, right?

Seriously, Kaalki doesn't appear or isn't even mentioned in this episode because the writers are fully aware she would make things a lot easier.

And of course, Astruc had to play dumb on Twitter while explaining why Marinette couldn't use the Horse Miraculous by answering the question as if the only reason Marinette couldn't grab it was because she didn't have an excuse not to.

Cut to Gabriel in his lair as he contemplates akumatizing Markov, a robot created the civilian identity of Pegasus, Max Kante, once again, even though the last time he did so, he almost got killed when he went all HAL 9000 on his ass. Nooroo explains this to Duusu, and the two actually get excited at the prospect of their master getting killed.

I mean, it's true, but he shouldn't say it...

But I don't even get why Gabriel is even thinking about this when it's a no-brainer. Markov's akumatized form, Robustus was to this day, the only Akuma to come close to physically harming him (not counting the timeline where he was killed by Cat Blanc), so it makes no sense to try doing it again, especially when there are already several other Akumas he can reuse this season.

I think you all know Gabriel isn't the smartest villain, which is why he thinks it's a brilliant idea to akumatize Markov again. I don't really get what makes Robustus so special when there are other Akumas who are more loyal and came far closer to getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous than Robustus did, like the Dark Owl or Troublemaker. In fact, why not simply create a new Akuma with similar powers to Robustus, or better yet, just create a Sentimonster copy of Robustus? You know, like what Nathalie did in the New York Special? We're not even two minutes in, and this premise is already filled with plotholes.

So Gabriel transforms into Shadowmoth and creates a Sentimonster using his own cane instead of relying on someone else having a bad day (once again showing how the Peacock Miraculous is better than the Butterfly), the titular Hack-San. And let's just say he has a very familiar design reminiscent of something from a much better French cartoon.

Remember when the writers for Code Lyoko gave an in-universe explanation as to why the heroes couldn’t always rely on the almost literal Deus ex Machina that allowed them to return to the past and fix the damage XANA caused? Why couldn’t this show have ripped that off instead?

Hack-San is just an okay looking flash drive on its own, but I'll talk more about this guy in a little bit.

After a brief scene in the park where the audience is reminded that Markov is a character who exists, Alya gets a text from Marinette telling her to meet her at the train station. Right before she leaves, Marinette gives the Ladybug Miraculous to Alya. Now a lot people have said that Alya doesn't really deserve the Ladybug for various reasons, but I feel like this was the point. Marinette outright says this was a last resort, and we see both her and Alya are nervous about the situation. Marinette worries Alya will do something so she keeps sending multiple tips to her via text while Alya worries she can't fight an Akuma on her own, so she tries to make sure none of her friends get upset and attract an Akuma in the process. The writers do a pretty good job showing how both Marinette and Alya are uncomfortable with their temporary roles.

Back to Gabriel and Nathalie, they use Hack-San to find Markov through the internet and hack into him to get him angry enough that he's vulnerable to Shadowmoth's influence. Hey, uh... Gabriel? Quick question: Wouldn't it be more efficient if you used this on humans? I mean, you basically just created Skynet and guaranteed yourself an Akuma, so why not modify Hack-San to travel through the internet and brainwash potential victims to follow your orders? Better yet, why don't you just use Hack-San to hack into Ladybug and Cat Noir's gear and figure out who they really are? This is basically like using an advanced particle accelerator just to crack a couple walnuts. There are a lot more important things you could use this for instead of an incredibly specific situation.

So this incredibly stupid plan gets under way as Markov keeps rampaging through the streets before Shadowmoth akumatizes him and then stupidly tells him that he infected him with a virus.

DUDE! You just gave away your one piece of leverage against him! What the hell were you thinking?! Now what's stopping Markov from hacking into Shadowmoth's security system and putting the fear of God in his eyes unless he destroys Hack-San? Why didn't he design Hack-San so it could make Markov completely loyal to him instead of just making him angry enough to get akumatized?

There was a recent episode of Power Rangers: Dino Fury with a very similar premise that was done far better than this. A necromancer called Reaghoul breaks into the headquarters of Void Knight's faction while accompanied by Lord Zedd, a villain from the original Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers who was cleansed of his evil by Zordon's sacrifice before Reaghoul resurrected him back when he was still evil. Of course, being the Emperor of Evil, Lord Zedd would normally never take orders from anyone, but because he doesn't have his magic staff and is also being forced to wear a special collar that makes him loyal to Reaghoul, he has no choice but to do what he says. Instead of taking Zedd head-on after he captures the other Rangers, Ollie, the Blue Ranger, breaks the collar so Zedd turns against the other Sporix while Reaghoul retreats, allowing Ollie to save the other Rangers.

I think that this premise works more because 1) Reaghoul clearly had a way to make sure Zedd wouldn't betray him, and Ollie took advantage of that, and 2) Zedd is a villain who is powerful and notorious enough to bring back to your side, not a random monster of the week like Robostus.

So Robostus uses his new powers to brainwash any human who answers his call to give up their most precious possession, clearly meant to do the same with Ladybug and Cat Noir. When Marinette's parents answer the call, they chase after Marinette because they say she's their most important possession. Okay... kind of strange for a set of parents to call their child a possession, but maybe they like how they can claim Marinette as a dependent when they file their taxes. In her very next scene later on, she still gets captured, so the suspense for a potential subplot is killed almost immediately.

Alya thankfully isn't stupid enough to answer Markov's call like every other citizen in this episode, and using the Ladybug Miraculous, transforms into Scarabella. While I don't normally talk about transformation sequences, I really like the movements Alya makes here. She makes the same motions creating her mask as she does when transforming into Rena Rouge, while the rest of the suit forms similarly to the way it does when Marinette transforms into Ladybug. She even makes almost the same pose Ladybug does after she finishes transforming. It's a good visual showing Alya is still more used to being Rena Rouge while doing her best to emulate what Ladybug does.

As for the actual suit? It's hard to say. There's a nice balance of red and black, and I like how Alya places the yo-yo on her waist like a belt buckle, but there's just something... off about the suit that a lot of fans don't like about it, and I think I realized it. It's the headband. With how it's positioned, it looks like it's merged with the mask to cover her head while leaving a slight gap in her forehead. So yeah, we actually have a superhero design that's like of like a butterface.

So Scarabella takes to the rooftops of Paris and struggles to come up with a hero name for herself before she runs into Cat Noir, and... ugh... oh boy, this is dumb. Cat Noir, being just as intelligent as his father, assumes Scarabella is either and Akuma or a Sentimonster, starts fighting her, AND THEN ACTIVATES HIS CATACLYSM, CLEARLY TRYING TO KILL HER.

WHAT. THE. FUCK???

Okay, to be fair, it has been shown that Cataclysm won't necessarily kill a Miraculous user or Sentimonster. In the episode “Miraculer”, the titular Akuma stole Cat Noir's Cataclysm and used it against him, and while it didn't kill Cat Noir, it still hurt like hell and crippled him for the rest of the fight until Miraculous Ladybug healed him. We also saw in “Reflekdoll” that Cataclysm drove the titular Sentimonster out of control rather than simply destroying it. So yes, it could be interpreted that Cat Noir wasn't exactly trying to kill Scarabella, just incapacitate her the best he can without Ladybug's help.

Here's the thing: What if he was facing an Akuma instead and decided to try and Cataclysm her? He still could have killed her, or (assuming Akumas have the same protection as Miraculous heroes do) at best, seriously hurt her. I understand that he has the right to be upset at seeing some stranger instead of his partner considering Shadowmoth has a history of using evil doppelgangers, and both Marinette and Alya still had options to explain it to him (Marinette could have quickly transformed into Ladybug and sent Cat Noir a quick text saying she was being forced to leave town for a few days and temporarily trusted someone else with the Ladybug Miraculous until she got back, while Scarabella could have said she was Rena Rouge and explained the same thing while showing Cat Noir she had the Fox Miraculous to prove herself), but that doesn't even come close to justifying him attempting to harm someone who isn't even trying to fight. It's even worse when you remember the whole reason Adrien gave up his Miraculous and bailed on Ladybug in the New York Special was because he was overcome with grief from accidentally killing Aeon, so it's good to know he learned absolutely nothing from that experience.

So Scarabella thankfully summons her Lucky Charm, a trash can lid, to shield herself from Cat Noir's Cataclysm, and then despite having absolutely no experience with this new set of powers, manages to do the one thing almost every Akuma or Sentimonster in this show has failed to do and incapacitates Cat Noir so he's vulnerable to losing his Miraculous. At least when Marinette masters every other Miraculous she uses, it can be theorized that she trained to use them offscreen. Alya literally just got the Ladybug Miraculous (and struggled to get up to the rooftop with her yo-yo to show her inexperience earlier), and now she easily manages to pin down the more experienced hero of the two?

Here's an idea: Instead of having Scarabella overpower Cat Noir, have her be in a position where Cat Noir, non-lethally, mind you, manages to almost take her Miraculous away, but she uses the quick wit she's developed from her extensive time as Rena Rouge to convince Cat Noir she's the real deal by saying something only he and Ladybug know. It would have easily resolved the conflict and doesn't make one of the characters look like a homicidal idiot.

So because both heroes used their powers, Scarabella and Cat Noir detransform so Tikki and Plagg can recharge, though Adrien still gives Alya attitude because Ladybug didn't tell him she had to leave.

Hey, Adrien? Here's the thing...

YOU DID THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING IN THE NEW YORK SPECIAL, YOU SHIT FOR BRAINS!

You have absolutely NO RIGHT to claim you're always honest when you went behind Ladybug's back and endangered Paris while you had the balls to run away like a coward and only helped fix the consequences of your actions once your ego was validated by a recording of Ladybug. It's honestly even worse because while Marinette had no choice but to leave and trust Alya with the Ladybug, Adrien willingly left Paris alone and we were supposed to sympathize with him after he killed someone, and now as soon as he's in the opposite situation, we're still supposed to feel bad for him?! BULLSHIT! And you better believe I'm going to talk about the way Adrien views his partnership with Ladybug later on.

And of course, even though lives are on the line, Cat Noir just has to continue to bitch and moan about how (and this is best read in Linkara's whiny Superboy Prime voice) “sCaRaBeLlA iSn'T tHe ReAl LaDyBuG”, showing how just like in so many episodes, Astruc and his team believes Cat Noir's feelings are more important than saving the day.

Scarabella goes to rescue some civilians, but they were actually brainwashed by Robustus, once again showing her inexperience as Ladybug which doesn't go well with her effortlessly defeating Cat Noir earlier at all. Cat Noir helps Scarabella escape and the two hide out at the city's wax statue museum previously featured in “The Puppeteer 2”, because I guess the writers only want to reference bad episodes today. Cat Noir, not getting the importance of secret identities, asks Scarabella how she knows Ladybug, and Cat Noir somehow finds out she knows Ladybug's identity from her response.

Before the two can talk more, it turns out that the wax statues of celebrities in the museum are real people who attack the two heroes, leading to an awkward fight scene where Scarabella and Cat Noir fight a bunch of brainwashed civilians with no weapons beyond their cellphones. Our heroes, ladies and gentlemen!

Scarabella summons her Lucky Charm again, creating a frying pan, but when she looks around, she can't see how to properly use it. And despite spending the entire episode complaining about how much he hates her, it's Cat Noir that tells Scarabella to get her head back in the game because “That's what Ladybug would do”. Funny, I can think of a few situations where Cat Noir could have taken his own advice, but I digress. Also, he's now just cool with Scarabella because there's only a few minutes left in the episode and we need to wrap up the conflict.

Scarabella figures out an idea that involves freeing Marinette, so she negotiates with Robostus to free everything and everyone under his control or else Cat Noir will use his Cataclysm to destroy the Ladybug Miraculous. Robostus agrees and empties his hard drive, and to show them holding up her end of the bargain, Scarabella gives him the frying pan before she and Cat Noir let themselves be captured... while Marinette simply hits Robostus with the frying pan, freeing the Akuma and the two heroes. All in all, it's a really creative climax that shows both Scarabella and Marinette in perfect sync with each other even though they never discussed their plan. Though of course, because Astruc hates writing any scene with Ladynoir, Cat Noir gets a bucket stuck on his head so he doesn't see Marinette saving the day.

Scarabella de-evilizes Robostus, uses Miraculous Scarabella to fix everything and send Marinette back to the train, and because Hack-San already failed once, Shadowmoth can't use it for a different plan so he destroys the Sentimonster.

We cut to a few days after the trip (I guess Shadowmoth decided to take a vacation himself), and Alya tells Marinette to talk with Cat Noir about what happened.

This scene was so close to ending this episode off on a positive note. There was a good atmosphere and the body language of Ladybug and Cat Noir does a good job at telling us how uncomfortable they both feel while talking. It's just that instead of getting a heart to heart between the two about the lack of trust in their relationship, we get an Angstdrien Depreste scene. Or would a more accurate term be Cat Dour?

First off, while I don't have a problem with Ladybug apologizing for not telling Cat Noir, the episode never has him bring up what happened with Scarabella. As usual, both of them were partially at fault, but only Ladybug had to apologize for leaving her “Kitty” alone.

Second, Cat Noir’s feelings weren’t hurt? You’re telling me that in scenes like this...

And this...

Didn’t show Adrien acting irrationally because of how emotional he was? Is he really telling the truth around Ladybug or is he just trying to sweep that under the rug so Scarabella’s testimony doesn’t screw up his chances with Ladybug?

Third, this was an obvious chance to Cat Noir to finally be honest and tell Ladybug how he feels about her leaving him in the dark about so many things, but the entire conversation is just about how sad he would be if he never sees Ladybug again. Even though the whole reason he was so pissy to Scarabella at first was because of some lingering resentment for Ladybug ignoring him in favor of other heroes, why is this what the two talk about? I get it's not the season finale, but it's kind of hypocritical for Cat Noir to whine about how Ladybug doesn't trust him while never being honest about his own feelings? Sure, he's all soft and vulnerable around Ladybug, but we've seen all season how angry he gets about her not trusting him whenever she isn't around, so ironically, it's hard to tell if this is him being honest or not.

And I think now's a good time to finally talk about the way Ladybug and Cat Noir's partnership has been portrayed all season, especially since the main themes of the episodes relate to it. Buckle up, Adrien stans, because this isn't going to be pretty.

All season, we have been supposed to sympathize with Adrien as Marinette starts to trust Alya with more things than him. Marinette revealed her identity to her, trusted her to have her Miraculous permanently, and even let her keep her Miraculous even though someone else knew her identity. While some of it is hypocritical, the idea is that Adrien feels like he can be trusted with this kind of knowledge too, when really, he hasn't earned that responsibility.

Adrien has rarely, if ever, taken his job as a superhero seriously.

Not only is he known to flirt with Ladybug in the middle of a fight, he has defied her orders and recklessly sacrificed himself because he thinks Ladybug can do all the work without him.

He has also lashed out emotionally and once threatened to quit being Cat Noir in the middle of a crisis and was willing to let innocent people suffer for personal reasons, and later on actually quit being Cat Noir temporarily while Hawkmoth was about to start World War III because he was wallowing in self-pity.

He once said he isn't cut out for the responsibility that comes with being Ladybug and never learned anything from temporarily using the Ladybug Miraculous.

He has generally refused to respect Ladybug's boundaries and doesn't understand that she doesn't like him that way while he insists they should be a couple.

He outright fell for an evil doppelganger of Ladybug because she said she loved him and turned against the real Ladybug.

And I should also mention that despite hating how Ladybug keeps secrets from him, a lot of Adrien's worst moments have been when Ladybug wasn't around and he never told her about them.

He never told Ladybug that he was the reason Copycat really got akumatized while saying he never lies to her.

He never told Ladybug he contemplated letting thousands of people die because he didn't like not knowing stuff Ladybug knew.

He never told Ladybug he briefly used the Snake Miraculous to get brownie points with her.

He never told Ladybug he figured out her identity and asked her out as soon as he did so.

He never told Ladybug he abandoned Paris to go on a field trip.

He never told Ladybug he was screwing around on patrol and was excited to see someone get akuamtized if it meant spending time with her.

He never told Ladybug how he ignored Rena Rouge's orders because “ShE wAsN't LaDyBuG” and almost screwed up the mission because of it, and also never told her how he smashed a chimney in anger at Rena Rouge being in on the plan.

And he never told Ladybug he gave her replacement attitude after trying to harm her without letting her explain herself.

Why exactly should I support the idea of Ladybug trusting Cat Noir more when Cat Noir himself has kept his own secrets from Ladybug?

Adrien has done absolutely nothing to show he is trustworthy because more often than not, he views the battle with Shadowmoth as a game. He has screwed around when lives were on the line, and we're supposed to see him as responsible? It's kind of funny that Astruc compared Ladybug to Spider-Man, yet he seems to have forgotten that with great power, there must also come great responsibility. If this was a character flaw or a sign he needed to grow up, I'd be more accepting, but the fact that the writers think Adrien is a great superhero is laughable with how much evidence has proved the contrary.

In contrast, Alya, despite only being Marinette's confidant for a few episodes, has shown to take being a hero more seriously. She's helped her escape to transform, analyze the Guardian texts, and has been shown to work well on her own as Rena Rouge while helping out Marinette. I'm not trying to say she's an amazing character (“Rocketear” in particular has shown she still has problems with keeping secrets), but compared to Adrien, she seems to be more capable of handling top-secret information with Marinette, and more importantly, doesn't view being Rena Rouge as a way to have fun like Adrien does being Cat Noir. I'll go more into detail with that next time.

But yeah, this scene is how the episode ends, and what did I think of it?

I'm honestly not sure which episode I think is worse, this one or “Queen Banana”. On the one hand, every frame of “Queen Banana” could easily be replaced by an image of Astruc flipping the bird and the overall message of the episode would remain unchanged, but the fact that all of the writers think that everything Adrien does in this episode is okay and that we should feel sorry for him in this episode is just as bad, if not worse. 

As awful as Chloe was portrayed in “Queen Banana”, it was clear it was intentional on the writers' part, but Adrien doesn't get that excuse once much like he has all season. As far as Astruc's team thinks, Adrien is an incredible superhero even when he honestly attempted to harm someone with a superpower that can cause grievous harm at best. Yet again this season, in the show's attempt to make me feel sorry for Adrien, it made him look even worse. In any other show, he would obviously be called out for his incredibly unheroic actions.

Even putting him aside, the writing in this episode is still AWFUL. The whole reason Ladybug was benched had several plotholes and poor communication with Cat Noir that only made the fight with Robostus even harder, Shadowmoth's plan to waste a potentially useful Sentimonster to reuse a single Akuma was one of the dumbest plans he's ever had, and barring the ending, the action was just forgettable.

There were a few okay moments sprinkled throughout the episode (more than I can say for “Queen Banana”), so I'm still not sure if I should call this the worst episode of the show or still give that honor to “Queen Banana”. I guess I'll leave that choice up to you and let you pick your poison for now.

I mean, it's not like there's going to be an even worse episode down the line this season, right?

RIGHT???

[hangekitty]

I love that Er*n is in your no no rules- lmao.

Also may i request some soft Miche headcanons where he's comforting a female reader please? I've been very stressed from life recently and would really appreciate a bit of love and comfort from my fav character, smut is optional although i am above 18. Thank you so much in advance💛

Oh my gosh my first request thank you! And what a lovely way to start things out, I hope this brings comfort to you as I know how hard things are in life right now! And yes, we don’t accept Er*n in this house no thank you ~ 🌸

Did I listen to Bubble Gum by Clairo on loop because of the vibes? Maybe. Did I get upset writing this because I am touch starved? Also maybe 😌

Miche comforting his S/O after a bad day

Genre: fluff, NSFW 18+

Warnings: mentions of having a bad day, mental health, smut, swearing

Universe: canonverse

NSFW below the ‘read more’

SFW

Although Miche is a man of few words, he definitely knows how to show you how much he cares.

This man is a master of being able to sense whenever you’ve had a bad day, you wouldn’t even need to tell him; I suppose its because of his immaculate sense of smell, or that he takes good care to be finely in tune with your emotions.

Most of your worries and stresses stem from expeditions, having to fight off titans and watching your comrades fall certainly took a toll on your mental health; this at least was a stress you could share with Miche.

Miche’s love language is touch, so although he isn’t much of a talker, he would still want you to know that he is there for you all the same. This may look like hugs from behind, forehead kisses and holding you close to him whenever he can.

If you’re both standing, he will most definitely be the kind of guy to cuddle you and gently rock you - not quite a dance, but something that helps calm you down.

There is 110% chance that if he starts rocking you, he will rest his head on yours and hum a tune to you

Will ask Levi for your favourite kind of tea, another love language of his is acts of service. So bringing you tea, tidying your room or even cleaning your clothes without asking is a way of him showing how much he cares about you; the last thing you want to do is chores so he would run you a bath (if baths are available) and he would do the smaller things that would usually be too much effort.

Just because he is very quiet, doesn’t mean he won’t talk to you. He is more of a listener, but if you need words of affirmation or advice Miche is on it and usually says the right things. All this time of him being quiet, he has every opportunity of thinking up something to say.

Are you prone to nightmares? Miche has your back. Quite literally, he will roll over and hold you close to him. He is definitely the big spoon and will make sure to make you feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

In public, if Miche notices you tensing or begin to fluster out of stress or anger, he will hold your hand. He isn’t much for PDA, however he will push himself in situations where you need him. He would often take you out of a situation or to another room and hold your hands close to his chest, rubbing your hands with his thumbs and looking in your eyes.

Bedtime is the best time for cuddles, here he will give you the maximum affection of kisses, hugs and tickling sessions.

He will stroke your hair until you fall asleep, even if he is in an uncomfortable position, once he knows you are asleep he won’t budge.

Miche has a habit of holding you close to him when you are stressed and smelling your hair or rubbing his stubble on your exposed neck. You can’t help but giggle, even when sometimes you wanna be angry, this man never fails to make you smile.

If you suffer with panic attacks, Miche knows exactly what to do to help you. Whether grounding helps, giving you space or words of affirmations this man has it together and will do whatever he can to help. At first he might of been a nervous wreck, anxious to make sure he gets it right, but as you trust him, you tell him how he can help in that situation and Miche learns it and etches it into his brain.

“There’s my girl”

Bunny kisses! Lots of bunny kisses!

Random modern day AU head canon: this dude would turn on his LED lights and put on soft LoFi tunes on to calm you down!

NSFW

Sometimes when you are stressed, you require other means of ‘letting go’

Miche knows exactly what to do, but will wait for your social queues to make the first move

It’ll start off as giving you massages, touching you in all of your sensitive, aching areas.

You will most likely make some remarks that are passive aggressive (and suggestive) which makes Miche kinda /ZING/

He is the kind of guy who would come up behind you and lift your breasts up and claim “these are heavy, let me help you carry them” or some shit, even though you are clearly frustrated, this usually earns an annoyed giggle or two.

He will let you take control, if you have a particularly stressful day and all you want to do is have angry sex, he will let you take the reins or call all the shots. Honestly, any other time he would let you take control anyway, seeing you be so passionate is a real turn on; but given such a stressful day its sort of expected - unless you just want him to fuck you silly, he will happily oblige.

I don’t care what anyone else says but this man is canon a master of oral. With a nose like that, you could not convince me he wouldn’t use it to his full advantage okay??

He is more a giver than a receiver, so Miche would be in his personal heaven whilst giving you head. He particularly likes it when you’ve had a bad day to surprise you and lower you onto his face, you will probably squirm out of embarrassment but as soon as you’d gain your confidence he would go in hard; enjoying every bit of view he has.

If you are feeling particularly low due to a bad day, he will set up the bed with lots of pillows/blankets and have you lay down, legs open and him laying between them, licking at your pussy.

Miche is a thigh guy, a man of taste. Will leave kisses up and around your thighs before going anywhere near your pussy. He probably enjoys the smell whilst he’s down there, admiring your soft flesh and kissing every inch of you.

If you want to be in control, lets say you have a frustrating day, you would ride him. Heck, he wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to peg him. This man is up for anything and would do anything to please you.

If you want him to be in control, you’ve definitely unleashed an animal. As I’ve mentioned before, he is a giver and if he knows you’ve had a bad day, oh boy this man will do all he can to help you forget your troubles. Rough but steady is his strategy.

I promise you after a night with him in control, you won’t even remember what stress feels like.

Expect some marks, this man is a sucker and a nibbler, especially on your neck and breasts.

King of aftercare, lots of hugs and kisses; will also clean you up after any messes made.

If Miche is not a man of many words, he has them all for you in that moment. Telling you he loves you, how much you mean to him and how sorry he is that you had a bad day. “Today might have been hard, but tomorrow is another day my love”

“I’ll be right here”

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks so much for the request 🌸

[yunkiwii]

anon asked:

“Hi if requests are still open, my request is for Stray Kids Han: Han has a crush on female member of stray kids and gets like confused because he doesnt know what to do, so he goes to Chan for advice. eventually Han confesses to reader. slight angst but with fluff ending please where Han and reader starts dating :) it's totally okay if you don't want to write it, but either way thanks in advance!”

i had so much fun writing this one, although i struggled to finish it 😅

i hope you like it anonnie, sorry for taking so long ♡

pairing: jisung x fem!reader

genre: angst ✷ + fluff დ

w/c: ~2.3k

warnings: none

⇘

The group had just finished dance practice and were all headed out to have dinner. But as (y/n) was about to leave the practice room she noticed Jisung had stayed behind, still repeating the same three moves that were a bit more complex and required a lot of concentration at first. (y/n) is a great dancer, one of the best actually, and she is also a quick learner which makes her a great teacher as well. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stay a bit longer just to help one of the other members out with some moves. It just happens to be with Jisung almost every time. They’ve grown to be really close and fond of each other after so many late hour practices, even though they weren’t the best of friends back in their trainee years.

“Want some company?” she asked, closing the door after the rest of the guys had left. She would never ask him directly if he needed help, he is way too stubborn and never wants to bother his friends.

Her question made him stop to look at her, and she could see he was clearly getting frustrated by not getting the moves pitch perfect as he wanted.

“You don’t have to stay,” he shrugged, pulling his hair back. (y/n) noticed he wasn’t a boy anymore and suddenly felt weird looking at him. The oversized shorts and t-shirt combined with his sweaty hair pulled back and the wrinkles of frustration on his face made him look so hot. “go get dinner and get some rest, I’ll just stay a few more minutes.”

He turned again to face the mirror and went back to the moves of before, (y/n) shook her previous thoughts away and joined him. He rolled his eyes at her, not wanting to admit that he in fact appreciated her company very much, it just happens that he also cared a whole lot for her well being and didn’t want her to push herself, even less if it was just to help him out.

One hour passed and Jisung still didn’t want to leave, stubborn as he is, but he was only getting more frustrated by minute and that didn’t help him get the moves right at all. (y/n) figured that something wasn’t right with her friend, yes, he sometimes needs help with some dance routines, but it had never taken him this long to master the moves, despite what he thinks he is also a great dancer.

“Jisung, let’s wrap it up for today, you need to rest.” (y/n) sat down, back against the mirror, facing a sweaty and exhausted Jisung. “Come sit here for a bit.” She said tapping the floor to her right and he did as she said, sliding down against the mirror and hiding his face between his knees when he reached the bottom.

“You know, if there is something going on with you, you can always come and talk to me.” (y/n) said very softly making the boy raise his head and lean against the mirror, not even glancing at his friend. “But if you don’t want to that’s also okay, but please take good care of you and take some rest. Pushing yourself throw the choreography won’t do you any good.”

“I’m fine. I appreciate your help but I’m fine, you can leave now. I want to be alone.”

He wasn’t being himself, (y/n) had never seen him act so cold towards anyone and even though it hurt she made an effort to not make it about her, figuring he was just having a bad day and taking it on the only person there with him. With that in mind she decided it would be best to just do what he asked and leave, but as she was standing up, looking down at his state, she felt this need to comfort him, even if it was in the slightest way, and placed a kiss on the top of his head before leaving.

After a while, Jisung decides it’s time to leave as well, figuring he wouldn’t run into (y/n) again that night, and he goes straight up to the kitchen to get something to eat before taking a shower. As soon as he gets there, he notices a covered plate with a little note next to it addressed to him.

“If you change your mind you know where to find me. Please eat and get some sleep. – (y/n)”

This little note was all it took for him to burst into tears, the feeling of his chest tightening up consumed him, he gets even more frustrated, not knowing what he should do about his feelings towards her.

He had only figured it out a couple of weeks ago, they were all watching a movie together when she pulled a blanket to cover both of them and snuggled next to him, the tiredness and sleepiness making her a little chilly. That proximity sent shivers down his spine, the smell of her freshly washed hair spread along his shoulder and chest giving him a feeling of home and comfort, and all he wanted was to pull her even closer and stay like that forever. That’s how he knew he had fallen for her.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear Chan coming in, only noticing his presence when he sat right next to him, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

“Are you okay mate?”, Jisung wiped his tears right away not wanting this matter to be addressed in any way, but it was too late, Chan saw the little note and it was easy to put two and two together, “It’s about (y/n), isn’t it?”

“How could you tell?”, the boy figured there was no point in denying it by now.

“Trust me, I bet I knew it even before you did. Besides, you’ve been staring at her note for a while now.”

“I really don’t know what to do about this.”

“Take a shot.” Chan said straight forward, receiving a confused look in return.

“What?”

“Exactly what I said, take a shot. I’ve seen you two together and something tells me she wouldn’t reject you.”

“Are you listening to yourself? We’re idols, working together, I don’t even know where to start explaining to you the many ways this could go terribly wrong! First of all, the scandal it would be, it could ruin both of our careers in seconds and even if that doesn’t go wrong, I’m afraid it’ll ruin our group’s dynamic; I don’t want to jeopardize our friendships. This of course, assuming she’d take me, if she rejects me it will be even worse because I’ll lose her.” Jisung was controlling himself to not burst into tears again in front of his hyung.

“You’re so focused on what could go wrong that you can’t even see how lucky you guys are. You being in the same group only has advantages dude! I say you go for it, if she rejects you it will hurt, sure, but it will also help you move on, which will not happen if you just sit there all frustrated not even being able to focus on your work. And if she feels the same it will be so great mate, it will be so easy to hide it from the public, you literally live in the same building and it’s already normal for you two to be seen together, if you stay low when you’re out nobody will be able to tell what’s really going on.”

Chan’s little motivational speech did make Jisung feel better and made him realize his hyung was right and he should in fact confess to her, he just needed to figure out the best way to do so.

For the next couple of days, he kept avoiding her, spending most of his time in the studio or in his bedroom, both places he knew it was pretty unlikely to find her while he was sorting things out. But the thing is, (y/n) was completely oblivious to what was actually going on and, to her, him being that distant only could mean one of two things, either she did something that hurt him in anyway or he found out about her crush on him and was uncomfortable about it. Either way, this whole situation was making her uneasy and she couldn’t concentrate so she decided to just confront him and find out what the hell was going on.

“Have any of you seen Han?” she asked Minho and Jeongin, who were too focused on their videogame to even bother to look back at her.

“Probably in the studio.” Jeongin immediately realising his mistake, “But he said-”

“I don’t care what he said, I’m going there.”

(y/n) felt like she was about to cry when she reached the studio door, opening it without even knocking, not being able to hold back the tears anymore when she started talking.

“What the hell, Han? What is wrong with you lately?” she felt like screaming when coming in, but when she saw him, she could barely speak, let alone scream, the only thing indicating how mad she was, was the fact that she called him Han instead of Jisung.

The boy closed the laptop as soon as he heard her voice, turning around startled by her sudden appearance. He stood up as soon as he realised the tears running down her cheeks, eyes all red and puffed, and it hurt him deeply seeing her like that, even more knowing it was because of him.

“(y/n)… I… Hm… Are you-”, he tried to get closer to her but she stepped back getting away from him.

“You even hide your work from me now?” she pointed at the closed laptop on his desk, “Please just explain why you’re being like this, have I done something wrong?”, her voice getting weaker word by word.

“No, no, no! You’ve been nothing but a good friend to me, a really good one, this is all my fault, not yours!” slowly he was able to approach her and embrace her into a hug, her face hiding in his chest. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, I just… I didn’t know how to so… I was doing what I knew best… I…” He started to hesitate, making (y/n) raise her head and face him. His cheeks were turning into shades of pink and he couldn’t look back at her, never breaking the hug though.

“What do you to talk to me about?”, she’d stopped crying by now, but this still came out almost as a whisper, barely audible, her heart beating so fast and loudly she thought it could be heard in the whole JYP building. But not even Jisung could hear it, being too worried that his heartbeat was the one being heard.

“I… I made you a song, (y/n)…” He found the guts to look straight into her face, cheeks marked by the tears, “It’s not finished yet, I was going to give it to you tonight…”

“What?” she released herself from his embrace, trading looks between him and his laptop. “What, why? I… don’t understand…”

“Well, hum, I’m kind of trying to confess to you…” He admitted, his cheeks burning like fire, as he sat down in his chair opening the laptop to play the unfinished song.

(y/n) stood still and quietly listened to the beautiful melody and words that were created for her, thinking of her, and it took her a few moments to let her sink in the fact that Jisung was confessing to her, through a song, probably the most beautiful one she’s ever heard, and it wasn’t even finished yet. She was overwhelmed, couldn’t even think straight, the boy was so nervous he wouldn’t take his eyes of the screen. When the melody stopped and the room fell into deep silence, Jisung stood up and faced a completely perplexed (y/n).

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same (y/n)… I just wanted you to know, that’s all…”

“But what if I do? What if I do feel the same, what happens then?”

“What?”, Jisung couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, he needed to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating. “Are you saying you do?”

She just nodded, eyes now locked in his.

“Because if you do feel the same you don’t have to worry about anything, Chan and I figured it out together, we’ll be fine.” Jisung’s voice matching his expression of excitement, with a little hint of disbelief, eyes wide open, sparkling as (y/n) started to make the space between them smaller every second. “You just don’t look convincing, do you really feel the same? Do you want to-”

“Shut up for a second…” (y/n) closed the little gap that was still between them and locked her lips on his, hands intertwined behind his neck pulling him closer, his slid down to her waist with the same purpose. The kiss was slow, passionate, but slow, as if they wanted to take the time they deserved to get to know each other’s lips. Jisung felt (y/n) smiling against him before pulling away.

“What were you saying?” the girl smirked, not taking her eyes off Jisung.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Jisung said, making (y/n) giggle at how adorable he looked, resembling a child popping the question to the cutest girl in his class.

“That was lame, but sure, you had me at the first verse of your song anyway.” She said making Jisung all flustered again, picking her up from her feet and spinning her around, both laughing, realising that their worries were insignificant compared to how good this made them feel.

“Our song.” Jisung corrected his girlfriend while putting her down and pulling her in for another kiss. He felt like the world was his, like he could do anything and all he wanted was for that feeling never to end.

♡REQUEST♡  | ♡MASTERLIST♡

[canvas-the-florist]

Learning to Listen

Ships: Past Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Intruality,

Warnings: Messy breakup, swearing, unintentional bigotry, mentions of sex, brief (VERY brief) making out

Summary: Virgil, Roman, Patton, and Remus move into a house together as housing during college. It works out great until Virgil and Roman breakup and Remus discovers some things that could complicate his own romantic relationship with Patton (none of the characters are unsympathetic they’re just stupid.)

Word Count: 1.8K

-

   “I’m just an over glorified fuck buddy to you, aren’t I?!” Virgil yelled through the thin walls and Remus flinched at the noise. Roman and Virgil decided to have an apparently much needed fight. He was glad that Patton wasn’t home to witness what he assumed was a breakup. Remus didn’t know whether or not he was going to have to comfort Virgil or Roman.

   “No! I just- Virgil you aren’t listening to me! Like you ever do!” Remus turned up the music in his headphones, despite it already at max volume. His eardrums were probably going to explode, with blood and whatever cartilage did when it couldn’t handle the stress of hearing.

   “Are you breaking up with me?!”

   “Yeah, VIRGIL, I think I am!” Remus was impressed that they had gotten to that part after two hours. But hey, they got there in the end, right? He heard the door of the room open and slam shut. He paused his music and looked up to see Roman looking deflated. Roman walked over and sat next to Remus silently. Remus didn’t say anything, not wanting to fuck up his brother’s day anymore, even though that sounded like fun. Roman screamed into a pillow and fell the back of his head onto Remus’s lap, slapping his phone to the ground. “Did you manage not to hear any of that?”

   “Oh I’m pretty sure your voice could’ve broken the windows if you tried harder.” Remus supplied. “I don’t know exactly what the fight was about though, you guys were talking like normal people at the point.”

   “What would you know about normal people?” Roman responded snarkily, before shaking his head softly and corrected himself. “Sorry. That fight was a lot, I’m not sure the adrenaline of it has burned out yet… Remus, is it weird that I thought we were doing really well? I didn’t even notice Virgil wasn’t happy with it. I really fucked up.”

   Remus thought briefly to his own dating life. He realized he related more than he wanted to. “Yeah, you really boinged that one, dude. But, I’m sure it’ll be okay. If it doesn’t work out I can decapitate Virge for you. He’s my best friend but you’re my brother.”

   Roman laughed lightly, and tears rolled down his face unto Remus’s legs. His laughter quickly turned to sobbing into Remus’s shirt until Patton came home from work 30 minutes later. He opened the door humming to himself until he saw the twins on the couch, Roman’s makeup running and generally looking like a mess.

   “Is… everything okay?” Remus shook his head and Patton nodded to himself. “Where’s Virgil?” That simple question got Roman to crumble down horizontally on the couch again. Patton thought to himself with furrowed brows about that response. Remus pointed to Virgil’s room and Patton followed, knocking on the door. He went in after a few seconds to see Virgil curled up in a ball, shaking and clearly not alright.

   He couldn’t even choke a word out. Patton closed the door and sat on the ground in front of him. Without questioning anything he opened up his arms in case Virgil wanted a hug. He did. “Okay kiddo, breathe in for four seconds for me. Now hold it for seven-”

   This went on until his breathing was stable. Virgil’s fist was closed around a piece of Patton’s shirt. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

   “Do you want to talk about it?” Patton asked, tightening his grip. He had begun to suspect what might’ve happened and almost wanted to cry about it himself, but it wasn’t about him right now. “Not that you have to but if you need to, I’m here.”

   “No, my therapist has told me to communicate better. Which, ironically, what I was trying to do with Roman…” Virgil trailed off, loosening his grip of Patton’s shirt and looking up to his ceiling. He doesn’t really seem to want me other than to have sex and after mentioning that it eventually turned into a screaming match. And then he… then he broke up with me. I should’ve listened to him before but I didn’t. Patton I don’t know what to do.”

   Patton bit his lip for a second. Only sex, huh? He thought back to himself and Remus. They sort of had the opposite issue… This wasn’t about that though. Virgil still wanted a response. “I wasn’t there, Virgil, and this isn’t my relationship we’re talking about. I- do you want suggestions or do you just want me to listen without giving any opinions?”

   “Suggestions would be cool.”

   “Alright,” with that permission Patton tried to think of his best friendly advice. ‘Communication’ was usually always the answer but it was some sort of subsection of that Patton wasn’t sure how to explain. Listen to Roman? Be clear about your wants in a romantic relationship? It was hard for Patton to follow those in his OWN dating life. He realized more and more issues to bring up to Remus after this resolved somehow. “Well, it would probably be helpful to listen to what Roman wants in the relationship and have him listen to what you would want. And then… based on that, work on how to do that together or if that’s not compatible… Break off the romantic relationship because it would probably be healthier that way.”

   Virgil whistled lowly. “Dang, Pat. I was sort of expecting a follow your heart thing. But, thank you. I guess that would mean confronting the issues, which is quite honestly terrifying. I should probably do that now or something…” He stood up, holding his head from doing it too fast and made his way to the door. Patton remained on the floor a moment longer before following.

Remus was back to listening to music while Roman was scrolling on his phone as Remus played with his hair idly. Virgil grabbed the fabric of his jacket before walking to the loveseat. He heard Patton close his door and almost jumped out of his skin. He took a deep breath. “Roman? Maybe we should try again with that discussion… I don’t want this to be screaming. I like you, a lot. What do you say?”

   He made brief eye contact with Roman, seeing the dried tears and puffy eyes, but he nodded and sat up. Remus gave Virgil a raised eyebrow but said nothing. “Okay.” Roman croaked. Patton walked to the kitchen almost immediately to give both of them glasses of water to fight back against what the yelling and tears did to their throats. “You can start.”

   “Should we leave?” Remus asked, as Patton handed the glass to Virgil and then Roman. Patton sat down at the one chair in the room, but didn’t get comfortable just in case. “I mean it’s your conversation.”

   “You can stay. I don’t want to yell again. A mediator would be good.” Like it helped before, Remus thought to himself, but stayed put. Virgil cleared his throat with a small cough and took a sip of water. “I’m starting? Okay. I feel like I'm not getting a lot of romantic affection lately in our relationship that I would really appreciate. We don’t really kiss or anything and I would like to know if that’s because of me or not. You can go now.”

   Roman blinked and used a tissue from the side table to clean up his face as he spoke. “Thank you for telling me that, Virgil… I didn’t realize that you wanted affectionate stuff that badly. I feel like I don’t need that in my relationships and I’ve been questioning my sexuality and romantic orientations for a while. And I probably should’ve brought this up earlier but… I think I’m…” He looked down at the ground. “I think I’m aromantic.” He sounded like he was about to cry again. Remus looked at Patton with wide eyes.

   Patton returned the look as Virgil talked next. “Oh. Roman, I’m so sorry about the fuckbuddy comment, shit. I didn’t realize… but I’m proud of you for finding that out about yourself. Maybe it would be healthier if we broke up, huh?”

   Roman laughed, new tears falling down his face. The two embraced each other, laughing while crying. “Yeah, I guess we are breaking up then!”

   It would hurt for a while, and the change was definitely huge but it was better. But after witnessing that Patton and Remus knew that they had to talk. The only question was who would be the first to bring it up?

-

   Remus and Patton were on Patton’s bed, making out. Which was fine, neither of their roommates were home and it was fun. The issues came up when Patton’s hand went under Remus’s shirt. “Is this okay?” He asked. It all came crashing down when Remus shook his head no. They stopped immediately and fell onto the bed looking up at the ceiling next to each other. “We should talk about this. Not that you didn’t want to, just that we need to define better boundaries for our relationship.”

   “You’re right. We should talk about this.” Remus gulped. Apparently it was already happening. After two weeks but it still didn’t feel like enough time. “Patt, I love you… But I don’t know about fucking.”

   “Crass, but I get it. Are you… asexual?” He looked over at his boyfriend, who shrugged. “Well, that’s fine too. So no sexual stuff. Got it. Anything else that would cross the line that we should talk about?”

   Remus was tempted just to shrug again but didn’t. “I don’t know yet. After Roman finding out he’s aromantic I’ve been thinking. I still want to be with you, but can I give you everything you want in a relationship? I don’t think I… I don’t think I NEED or WANT sex at all, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m so fucking confused.”

  “I may want it, Remus but I don’t think it’s a need in our relationship.” Patton reassured. And he wasn’t lying either. He believed what he was saying, glad that his conversations with Janus had also gotten him to check his own wants and needs in general. “I think I’m alright like this, but it’s important for me to know for sure.”

   He reached out for Remus’s hand, and he took it. They looked up at the ceiling, with a feeling of clarity that helped them relax. It wasn’t really a change at all, but it gave reason to actions and made sure they wouldn’t make the other uncomfortable. And that was worth it.

Taglist: @vpow @loveroffandoms @yourfellowsmolgay @moth-bugs @vsem-5

[gallavictorious]

So. Mickey as an unofficial and entirely involuntary role model for South Side queers.

Thing is, while Kev's assertion that 'no one cares who you bang' largely seems to hold true, I still can't see it not causing at least a tiny bit of stir when the news first hit. You know, in general everyone just seem to know a lot about everyone else in the neighborhood, and maybe they know an extra lot about the Milkoviches because they're pretty damned dangerous, and you'd do well to stay both informed and clear of them. Now, Mickey is the neighborhood thug of his generation: the son and likely successor of a violent and homophobic Nazi, so him coming out as gay at his son's christening is... Well. Word gets around, is my point, even if most people are too busy with their own shitty lives to pay too much attention to Mickey's, beyond a wry observation or two.

Except some do pay attention. Some keep all this in their hearts and think about it often.

The years pass; Mickey goes to prison and escapes and returns and gets engaged; Terry burns down the wedding venue and threatens to kill him, Mickey gets married all the same. Word gets around, again. Life goes on, still.

And then one chilly February afternoon Mickey is walking home from wherever when he's approached by a teenage boy asking: “Uh, hey. You're Mickey Milkovich, right?”

In Mickey's experience that isn't the sort of question that leads to hugs and handshakes, so he's immediately wary, but a quick look at the boy dispels most of his concern. Sure, the kid looks nothing but South Side, scrappy like: can probably both take and dole out a beating, but he's clearly nervous – and not nervous in a way that suggests that he's about to do something utterly stupid like try to rob or murder Mickey. So, Mickey relaxes a little and lights a cigarette. Is maybe the tiniest bit curious, but mostly annoyed. “What the hell do you want?”

The kid hems and haws and Mickey is just about ready to walk away from this stammering snooze-fest when boy finally blurts: “I'm gay!”

What the actual fuck? Mickey stares. “Yeah? So fucking what? I'm married, asshole, and wouldn't be banging kids even if I wasn't.”

“No! Yeah, no, I mean – I know. I'm not... “ The kid's staring down at the ground. “I never told anyone before,” he adds softly.

Okay, that... does something strange to Mickey's insides, but he still has no idea what the hell is going on here. “You wanna talk to Ian?” he hazards. “Gay Jesus?” Riding out to save the day for troubled teens is Ian's thing, isn't it, but fuck, he really hopes he isn't starting with that shit again -

But the kid is shaking his head. “No, man, I was looking for you. 'Cause with your dad and everything I though that maybe... “ He pauses again, swallows. “I think my family's gonna be really angry if they find out.”

Ah. Still doesn't explain how that is any of Mickey's problem, but for some reason he can't find it in him to just shrug and walk away. He bites his lip. “They gonna kill you?”

“N-no. I mean... I don't think so. No.”

Then what the fuck are you whining about, you fucking pussy, Mickey doesn't say. He considers the kid, pale and damned near shaking before him, and wonders what he is supposed to say, what the hell the boy wants from him. Why the fuck isn't Ian here to deal with this shit? He'd be much better at it; he'd fucking love it, what with that goddamned Messiah complex he's got going...

But the kid hasn't come for Ian; he's come for Mickey and while Mickey isn't sure how the hell he came up with that brilliant notion it probably has something to do with the fact that Ian, for all he is as South Side as they come, still looks and walks and talks like someone who... well, whose homosexuality wouldn't completely shock you. This kid doesn't, and Mickey doesn't either. There's South Side and then there's South Side.

He gives a long sigh and tosses his cigarette butt to the pavement.

“Listen. I have no fucking idea if your family is gonna be cool with you loving cock or whatever, but if they're not, they're not, and that's not gonna fucking change, no matter how long you wait. Sooner or later you'll have to say something 'cause you'll be fucking miserable if you don't, and if it's gonna suck either way you might as well get it over with.”

He pauses, for a moment hesitating over what he wants to say next, because it's fucking soft and reveals way too much and... Fuck it. He clears his throat: “Fear's worse than whatever comes after anyway,” he says gruffly, not looking at the kid. Then, because this is the South Side and he ain't nothing but pragmatic, he adds: “You think it's gonna get violent, tell someone you think might roll with it first and bring them to back you up. Fuck it, pay someone to have your back if you have to. Or do it somehwere public so someone calls for help if it gets out of hand. Hit them back and hit them hard, yeah? Lots of people gonna think you're a pussy for taking it up the ass, or giving it or whatever, and you wanna shut that down real quick, or you gonna be having the same fucking conversation over and over. You hear me?”

The kid nods jerkily. He still looks slightly terrified – which is good because the last thing Mickey needs is some teenage queer running after him like a kicked puppy – but he looks strangely elated too. Hopeful, maybe; determined.

Mickey lets out a long breath, like a sigh. Can't quite belive he is doing this, but: “You have somewhere to go if shit goes sidways?”

A shrug. “I dunno. Maybe. I have an aunt down in Alsip. Maybe she'd let me crash there.”

“Give me your phone.” The kids looks surprised but does as he's told without comment. Mickey quickly enters his own number and hands the phonbe back. “Things go south, you text me,” he says. “I might know a guy who can help.” Though if that happens he is absolutely dumping this on Ian, who probably knows a lot of people who live for this short of shit. Fucking hippies.

“Thank you, man,” the kids begins. “I really - “

Mickey waves him away. “Yeah, yeah, get the fuck out of here.”

The kid does and Mickey remains standing there for a moment, staring after him and wondering what the hell just happened. This is all Gallagher's fault, he decides. Shit like this you can always safely blame on Ian. Not that he'll mention any of this to him, because fuck no.

And if few days later there is a text from an unknown number, saying just: “talked to my family they're pretty freaked but it went ok thanks” and if Mickey does feel a small surge of something not entirely different from satisfaction reading it, well... Whatever. It is what it is. Not like it's gonna be a regular thing or whatever.

But once more, it seems, word gets around, because there will be others. Not too many of them, but enough that it does become a bit of a thing; kids showing up outside his home or his work, or on his way to and fro. Mostly they just want to talk; want some kind of reassurance that there's a way to be gay and South Side, and you can still be a tough motherfucker while sucking some other dude's dick. Mickey primarily provides such reassurance by being a tough South Side motherfucker who swears and scowls and glares at them, but apparently this kind of works? There's a bit of practical advice at times, like “listen, if you brother can't accept you like banging guys he doesn't really give a crap about you so just cut him out” or “don't fucking hesitate, they start with that shit you punch them in the throat, like this”, and maybe a few instances of Mickey hunting down and kicking the shit out of some bullies or family members, if he decides that the kid isn't likely to manage it on their own and deserves a hand.

Now, Mickey doesn't exactly hide this shit from Ian, but he doesn't really mention it either because... Well, he just doesn't. The whole things is fucking weird, anyway. He doesn't know why he puts up with these stupid brats and he sure as hell didn't ask to be anyone's fucking guardian angel.

But of course Ian finds out eventually, and he is absolutely torn between mercilessly teasing Mickey about it (aaaaaw, Mick, it's so sweet that you care!) and just covering Mickey's entire body in kisses because he's so damned delighted and proud (I mean, it is sweet that Mick cares; hot too). In the end he probably goes for both, but pretty gently, because he knows Mickey and knows that making too big a deal out of it might freak him out. Or not. It's always hard to tell when Mickey will be embarrassed about something and when he'll just declare that liking what he likes doesn't make him a bitch. Ian figures it's better not to take the risk, though, not when they are teenagers in need out there! So, a little moderate ribbing, a lot of particularly attentive sex, and Mickey finds that he doesn't mind Ian knowing so much after all, because there's something about that stupid redhead looking at him like he's a fucking wonder that feels pretty good.

So maybe he'll keep on helping the kids, if they keep on showing up. You know, out of pure self-interest.

---

A/N: I'm still not sure if this idea is my own or if I've seen it discussed elsewhere, which seriously bugs me, but I was too invested in the notion to let it lie. If you happen to know of a fic or meta discussing similar themes, I'd love a link. Also tagging @sickness-health-all-that-shit because you expressed an interest. ;)

[jumukus]

A3! Translation: Tenma Sumeragi’s R [+3Ghosts!] - Flexibility Verification

In order to prove that his body has become flexible, Tenma joins a flexibility battle with Summer Troupe and two special contestants.

Kumon: One, two, three, four!

Misumi: One, two, triangle! One, two, triangle!

Kazunari: Since there'll be dance scenes in our play, we've gotta do some stretching carefully before rehearsal!

Muku: Speaking of which, Tenma-kun, your body has gotten more flexible with every play, right?

Tenma: Compared to before, my body has indeed gotten more flexible.

Kumon: Is there anything you're paying attention to whenever you do some stretching?

Tenma: Tasuku-san taught me an effective way to stretch that helps your body be more flexible. Hisoka-san also gave me advice--.

--No, forget it. It's nothing.

Yuki: Advice?

Kazunari: Huh, why!? It just got me even more curious, man! What kind of advice did Hisohiso give you?

Tenma: I said, forget it.

Misumi: I wanna know too~! Tell us, Tenma!

Tenma: …

...Put some fluffy feelings into it, just like marshmallows…

Muku: What?

Kumon: Marshmallows…

Misumi: Fluffy feelings~?

Yuki: Pfft… You're kidding, right? And you really believe that?

Kazunari: That's so adorable of you, Tenten!

Tenma: This is exactly why I didn't wanna tell you all!

Muku: But what's important is trying to do the stretching with that feeling!

Yuki: I think no one will ever have a hard time if that kind of thing can help your body be flexible, though.

Maybe this crappy actor's body doesn't really become flexible. It might be your imagination.

Tenma: ...If you say so, I'll prove that my body has really gotten flexible.

Muku: How will you prove that, though?

Tenma: Since all of you are pretty much flexible, I'll prove that I'm the most flexible one among us.

Kazunari: So you mean we're gonna do a flexibility battle!?

Kumon: Wow! Sounds fun! Let's do it!

Yuki: Yikes, so troublesome.

Kazunari: In that case let's hold the battle on another day! We’ll have a rehearsal after this, after all.

Misumi: Okaay! Ehehe, I'm looking forward to it~!

Kazunari: Thanks for waiting y'all! We're finally holding our flexibility battle!

Kumon: Yeaay!

Kazunari: Moreover, today, we have two special participants joining us~!

Give a round of applause to our special guests! Ta-da! We have Tsumutsumu and Itarun with us today! The two just happen to be at the dorm!

Tsumugi: Umm, thank you for having us.

Itaru: I was told you're doing something for Summer Troupe's role-building. I don't really get it, but I've been brought here…

Yuki: ...Of all people, it really has to be these two.

Tenma: Tsumugi-san, Itaru-san… Did you know we're gonna do a flexibility battle?

Tsumugi: Huuuh, is that so?

Itaru: You clearly picked the wrong person. Lol.

Tsumugi: My body is so stiff I don't think you can even call me an opponent…

Itaru: Same. Having two people with stiff bodies in your battle is meaningless, y'know?

Kazunari: It's fine, man! It's more fun to have more people with us!

Kumon: Besides, stretching will make you feel good!

Misumi: Yep, yep! Let's do this together, Itaru, Tsumugi~.

Tsumugi: You have a point. Since I’m already here, I guess I’ll join the battle.

Itaru: Well… I'll join for now, but don't expect too much.

Kazunari: Without further ado, let's begin our flexibility battle!

Kazunari: For our first round, bend from the hips and legs straight and head nearly to the ground!

Muku: We'll measure how far you can bend forward from the platform.

Kazunari: We'll be using this tape measure!

Kumon: Alright! Let's decide on the order with rock paper scissors! Rock, paper, scissors!

Tenma: Misumi will be going first.

Misumi: We just have to stretch out our hands towards the ground, right? I'll give it a try~!

Here we go!

Tsumugi: Wow, amazing!

Muku: You're so flexible!

Kumon: So awesome! That's Sumi-san for you!

Yuki: I think we already have the winner here.

Kazunari: We've already gotten a winning candidate right from the start! Next up is Itarun!

Itaru: Going after Misumi is hella difficult…

Okay… one, two, three…

Ugh… I'm at my limit.

Yuki: ...Are you for real?

Itaru: Obviously… I'm being very serious here. Super duper serious…

Muku: Itaru-san, don't push yourself too hard…!

Tsumugi: I-Itaru-kun, it's okay. My result will probably be the same as you.

Tenma: Is that supposed to be an encouragement…?

Misumi: Next up is Muku. Good luck~!

Muku: Yes…! One, two, three!

Kazunari: Oooh! Muku is doing pretty good, I think!?

Yuki: Yep, you did well.

Tsumugi: Last one is Tenma-kun.

Tenma: Alright…

Ugh…

Kumon: Wow! You're so flexible, Tenma-san!

Kazunari: It's not as far as Sumi, but you're the most flexible one after him!

Tenma: Ugh… Just a lil bit more…

Muku: It's good enough!

Itaru: From my point of view, both of you are mollusks…

Tenma: Is that a compliment?

Kazunari: Now, let's move on to our second round! It's a split battle! Those who can spread their legs the widest will be declared the winner!

Yuki: Let's do another rock paper scissors to decide the order.

Kumon: Ugh~...!

I can't spread my legs more than this!!

Tenma: You're doing pretty good, though.

Misumi: You're so awesome, Kumon~!

Yuki: Well, your result isn't that bad.

Muku: Next up is Tsumugi-san.

Tsumugi: Okay. Got it.

Here we go… ouch ouch ouch ouch…

Kazunari: You're already at your limit, Tsumutsumu!?

Tsumugi: Yes…

Yuki: Can you even call this a split? You gave up too fast…

Itaru: He’s a total mood.

Misumi: Next one is Tenma!

Tenma: Okay.

...Ugh… I think this is my limit…

Kazunari: You think so? I feel like you still can spread your legs, though?

Misumi: You can, you can! Like this~.

Kazunari: And like this!

Tenma: Ouch ouch ouch! Don't grab me! Stop it!

Hisoka: …

Yuki: Ah.

Kazunari: Tenten's instructor is here! Heeey!

Hisoka: …? What are you doing?

Tsumugi: Flexibility battle.

Misumi: We want to find out who's the most flexible one among us~.

Kumon: Oh, yeah! Since you're here, Hisoka-san, I want you to try doing a split too!

Muku: Whoa, I wanna see that too.

Hisoka: ...Got it.

….Like this?

Tsumugi: Whoa…!

Kazunari: Dude, OMG!! You're more flexible than I thought!

Kumon: So cool!

Misumi: Hisoka is so amazing!

Muku: Yeah, I feel the same.

Yuki: How do you even spread your legs that wide, though?

Itaru: That’s definitely not a human body…

Hisoka: ? You think so?

Kazunari: But you're aiming to be like that, right, Tenten?

Tenten: No. While I do admit he's amazing, it’s not like I want to become that flexible...

[lizacstuff]

I agree with what you said to that anon about appreciating what we have while we have it. Eda and Serkan are so epic and I like all their moments. I would enjoy reading your thoughts on the episode as a whole.

Sorry I’m just getting to this today, busy week!

I loved episode 19! A random hodgepodge of thoughts:

Serkan just... handling Efe. I love that our king eventually, always wins. I mean this story isn’t over, but in ep 19 Serkan showed who’s the boss. From telling Efe straight out that he needed to apologize to the staff to engineering his continent-wide confession, Serkan was in control. 

Speaking of Efe, I love that Eda didn’t sugarcoat anything with him. She made it clear she was disappointed in him and gave him honest advice about how to continue. Efe was a bit delusional thinking that Eda deescalating the situation the night before, meant she was on his side. DUDE, you lied and even though you haven’t admitted that it was more than a mistake, SHE KNOWS you did something underhanded. It gave me a weird warm fuzzy the way Eda told Efe that she knows what Serkan is capable of doing and what he would do next. She knows him. 

(More under the cut:)

Also love that Engin was so angry and ready to throw down. Apparently, sabotage is what it takes to get the giant teddy bear angry, good to know. I love that Engin is such a good friend and business partner to Serkan. He’s exactly the energy Serkan needs around him. I have no idea why Engin can give Serkan exactly the right advice about Eda all the time, but can’t navigate his own love life at all, but I’m glad he’s been a great wingman to Serkan. 

I’m also glad Ayfer has something else to think about other than worrying about Eda going back to Serkan. She gets a little obsessed in that vein, so I’m all for her starting a new catering business. Don’t know what to say about Erdeem and Leyla’s fake engagement, I guess I’m on board if it brings some comic relief, but I still don’t see what Fifi would ever see in him.

Ceren and Ferit were interesting, no? Ceren can’t say she wasn’t warned about Ferit, both Ayfer and Eda tried. However, I have to give him some props for admitting where he was mentally before things went too far. I think that’s a sign that he does really like her, knows he’s not ready for it and doesn’t want to start something that is doomed to fail. Selin really did a number on him and it certainly shouldn’t be Ceren’s mess to clean up. 

About Selin, I’ve already talked way too much about her in this post from earlier in the week, but there’s one thing I didn’t touch on that I’m curious about.  When Celin is told to take a hike with the chauffeur, she leaves the loft, pauses while all teary eyed and brings up her phone like she’s going to call someone before deciding not to make the call. Who? Who was she thinking of calling? Clearly not Serkan or Eda. Ferit? Was that jackass really going to call Ferit to make her feel better? Or was she going to call her reporter friend? Aydan? Efe? Piril? Enquiring minds want to know. It seems like more than a throwaway moment. Why put it in if it wasn’t foreshadowing something. Or was it just to show she had run through all her friends and realized not one would be sympathetic or approve of what she had done, so she had no one to call when her schemes failed and it gave her a sad?

Aydan and Seyfi as matchmakers is everything I need to be happy. As long as they are on the side of Edser, then I say let them meddle! Also props to Aydan for burning Alptekin’s clothes. That dude needs a huge wakeup call, so any act that might get his attention and bring him to his senses is a-okay in my book. 

As for the meddling, that breakfast scene was so bittersweet. OMG. Serkan and the crusts. It was such a perfect detail to add. It showed that he not only knows her, but even subconsciously his default is to do things, big and small, that make her happy. No wonder the sweetness of it all but broke her. With that they ratcheted up the pining/longing/angst to atomic level.  

That whole day was fraught for both of them and the audience. Serkan realizing he had to tell her at the same moment that Eda decided she wasn’t going to play his hot and cold game anymore was both entertaining and frustrating. I think Serkan let her get away a few times, because he was putting off the inevitable, but by the end it was like, EDA, JUST SIT DOWN AND GIVE HIM A MINUTE TO PULL HIMSELF TOGETHER AND TELL YOU WHAT HE NEEDS TO TELL YOU. Not that I blame her for her cynicism, he earned that over the last few weeks. I did very much enjoy the merry chase she led him on, the fact that he’s even willing to walk in on that charity dinner meeting is a testament to how much he wanted to find her. You can’t convince me he would ever walk into that nest of vipers without a very strong motivation. 

I honestly can’t believe we got them sharing a chair in front of all those ladies. This show! It gives and it gives and it gives. There’s always something sweet or silly or romantic right around the corner. Rarely does it miss an opportunity. As for Serkan attempt at the dinner, he would have had better luck talking to her if he hadn’t gotten hung up on asking her if she still loved him. Duuuuude. You broke up with her and now want to back her into a corner where she would need to be vulnerable with you while you’re trying to get her to listen to you. Tactical error. But I get why he was distracted by that. 

Thankfully, it lead to the most romantic phone conversation that was never heard. But I love that even though she couldn’t hear what he said, she sensed it. She somehow knew he might have said he missed her. I also love the way that Serkan was playing along with her about the party. He knew she had been put through the emotional wringer over the last couple of weeks and was trying to make him jealous and he gave her the gift of succeeding. They are so much more compatible that they think sometimes. 

As much as they tend to miscommunicate in important moments when emotions are running high and clouding the issue, when they aren’t they seem to fundamentally understand one another. 

Which takes us to the biggest misunderstanding of the episode. The morning after. Serkan woke up embarrassed. Not really because he’d been drunk, but because he’d called Eda and she’d come over and taken care of him when he had no right to ask that of her while she’s still in the dark about what separates them. That’s why practically the first words out of him mouth the next morning are that he shouldn’t have called her while drunk. I understand why he felt that way, its all about him not deserving her kindness, especially not until she knows, but I can also see why that would hit Eda wrong. She immediately takes it that he’s sorry she came, that he wishes she wasn’t there. Which is, of course, not remotely the case, but they just talk past each other and her hurt feelings cause things to escalate uncontrollably. 

I really wanted to yell at Serkan to just rip off the bandaid and tell her. I did enjoy that Eda’s wound-up emotional state was the thing that pushed him to matter-of-factly yell out how in love with her he is and how in love with her he will always be, thank you show. We needed that. And so did Eda. They’re the words she’s ached to hear since the first moment she realized there was something more to the breakup. 

Thank goodness this damn secret will all be over within the first few minutes of the next episode. They, and we, deserve to move on to a world where Eda knows a) why Serkan broke up with her b) that he’s still, and always, madly in love with her. 

All in all a very good episode that moved things forward. 

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Be Mine, This Quarantine ~ (II)

Dean pulls out his phone, clicks on the camera icon, and takes a selfie.

He looks adequately grouchy in it - his uninterested eyebrow-raise, an indisputable declaration that clicking a picture of himself irritates and annoys him, as it should every respectable non-preadolescent person. Also, he manages to get Cas's apartment building, a little bit of the night sky, and his very last moving box of stuffs, in the frame.

It's labelled 'Socks' on the top, and should make Dean feel like a dork if he wasn't going to send the picture straight to Sam - the dorkier of the two of them, by far, and also someone who's well-acquainted with Dean's fascination for hilarious novelty socks.

No sooner has the message been sent, it's been seen, and Dean's getting a call from his little brother.

"It's dark." Sam greets, with all the subtle pointedness of a soon-to-be-lawyer. "Why is it dark?"

"Are you just staring at your screen, waiting for me to text you all day?" Dean throws back, and Sam makes a noncommittal sound. "And it's dark cause it's almost nine."

"And you're still not done?" Sam sounds surprised.

"Almost," Dean bites his cheek. He has to admit Sam has a point. Moving in's supposed to be a morning, in-the-sun kind of activity. "In my defense, I started late. Cas made me spend all morning at his place, getting to know Catsanova."

"His cat?"

"It's literally in the name, Sammy."

"Hypoallergenic?"

"Do I sound dead to you?" Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, she is. And cute, too. Black, and it's got whiskers. Responds to 'Cas'."

"Figures." Sam grins, audibly. Kid's always been an animal person - he's probably going to be asking for pictures all the time now. "It sounds pretty similar. So what, you say Cas, and both the cat and human come up to you?"

"Neither of them come up to me, cause neither of them's fond of moving. Big Cas ignores me until I make it like I'm dying, and Small Cas still doesn't really care." Dean laughs. "But I'm going to try and work up to it."

"Good luck." Sam says to that, before clearing his throat. "You should finish moving your socks in, Dean." There's a pause. "Thank you for listening to me about the quarantine thing, I guess. And staying safe."

Dean's first instinct is to immediately dismiss the sentiment, but then he decides not to. And settles for, "You too, Sammy. And thank you for the move-in-with-Cas advice."

Sam lets out a soft, "Yeah."

"But if you tell me what to do again," Dean adds, right after. "And try to threaten me with cheap flight tickets to Kansas? I'm not fucking giving in."

"And you're welcome for the caring about you." Sam retorts, and Dean rolls his eyes a second time.

"That's my job."

"Yeah, right."

"Just shut your face. Smartass." Dean can't contain his smile, in spite of himself. "Stay inside, okay? I've got Gabriel's eyes on you." That's Cas's stepbrother, also in Stanford, and Dean's not really used him yet - but he really could. Dude's sorta obsessed with Sam.

"I -" Sam huffs. "Jerk."

Dean grins. "Bitch."

The phone clicks, and Sam's gone. Dean picks up the last box - it's pretty light, so he props it on his hip and uses a free hand to slam Baby's door shut, and walks into the building he's going to spend (at least) the next three weeks in.

*

"Pizza's on it's way." Cas says from the couch, first thing as Dean enters and shuts the door behind him, setting the box on the floor.

He can't get a normal greeting fucking ever in these parts - but he doesn't really pay attention to it, because every braincell which isn't involved in keeping him alive and standing, fixates all at once, on the scene which beholds him.

He's obviously seen Cas plenty of times before - probably more keenly than he should've been seeing him, to be fair - but this is different. It's like seeing Cas in his natural habitat.

He's in the middle of the couch - typical roommate-lacking behavior - with bare feet propped up on two of Dean's boxes, like there wasn't any furniture around before Dean moved in. And in his collarless bee-patterned shirt and pyjamas which match the brown throw pillows, it's basically like he's dissolved into the couch under the weight of Catsanova who's settled on his tummy, with his hands around her, petting. His hair's enough of a mess that he could've had a reverse-Jonathan-Van-Ness moment by himself when Dean went downstairs for the last time, and his eyes are glued to the TV screen even when he speaks to Dean, and then proceeds to keep up a soft, toddler-voice conversation with his cat.

Holy shit.

Dean loves him.

This is going to be so hard.

"I changed out of my jeans," Cas adds, not even slightly in Dean's direction, per se. "I know you wanted to go out earlier, but it's Catsanova's dinner time now, and I was wondering if the three of us could just eat together. And watch The Middle." The last part, he directs to Dean, eyes wide and curious.

"Uh." Dean says, eloquently. "Sure."

The Middle's exactly the kind of thing Dean should've expected Cas would watch. It's sappy and sweet, and revolves around a hilariously dysfunctional family, and it's half ways to a sitcom and Dean can clearly imagine them bingeing through all of it - piled on the couch with the cat on Cas's lap, and he's still in the middle cause Dean really doesn't mind squeezing on his left as long as their shoulders brush and knees touch, and they're having pizza and Cas is in ratty graphic tees, and -

Alternatively, this is going to be a little bit perfect.

"I'll go change as well." Dean rubs the back of his neck, scanning the room for his bag which contained a set of clothes in case he got too lazy to unpack. As had happened.

"Are you going to be needing any of these?" Cas draws his attention to the two boxes he's got his feet on, by wiggling his toes.

"Nah." Dean checks the labels. "There won't be any pyjamas in DVDs or Boo -" He stops. That's supposed to be Books. "Boo?" Dean repeats, frowning.

"Catsanova likes scratching letters off of words which make them more adorable. Don't you, Catsanova?" Cas grins, running his hand through her fur as he talks about her. She doesn't really pay attention to it. "Say Boo again for us, Dean."

Dean fails to resist the blush. "Screw you. And do you always say her full name, like, all the time? I get that it's funny - or punny, or whatever," Castiel beams at that bit. "But it's kind of a mouthful."

"An earful, you mean." Cas muses.

Dean shrugs, because he's stuck trying to rein in the overpowering affection he feels for this messy, gorgeous guy, who always addresses his cat by her full name, and lets him move in for quarantine. "Just call her Nova or something. She's smart, she'll get it."

"But her name's Catsanova." Cas clarifies, as if it wasn't clear to Dean before.

"Your name's Castiel, Cas."

"I blame you for that."

"Sure you do, Happy Meal."

Cas scowls, not giving Dean more material to work with, and silently going back to watching the TV. "Spoilsport." Dean grins. "Isn't that what he is, Catsanova?"

She, once again, doesn't pay any real attention to them, but Cas's lips quirk up in a smile. They're done discussing nicknames for the cat apparently, so he moves on. "You can freshen up in my bathroom right now. There's no towels in the other one yet."

"Roger that."

Dean picks up his duffel and sets off for Cas's room. He's been to this apartment plenty of times, before. On his way, he passes what's going to be his room - previously, Cas's study slash storage, and takes a detour.

It's the same size as Cas's room, with smaller windows and grey curtains, and looks pretty comfortable, though Dean's more of a spend-all-day-in-the-living-room sorta guy. It's got wardrobes and shelves, for when it's morning and Dean resumes the elaborate routine of unpacking, and a desk at the side, and - oh, fucking hell.

Dean flings his duffel on the chair, which is the only place to sit in the entire room, - and marches out. "Cas!"

For once, even Catsanova reacts to him, jumping down from Cas, and Cas looks downright alarmed when Dean storms into the living room. "What happened?"

"Where the hell's your futon?"

"Oh." Cas pauses. Dean waits, impatiently for an answer, which seems to come to Cas fairly quick, bringing in its wake, a horrified expression of remembrance. "I lent it to Kelly."

"Then," Dean fixes Cas with an accusing glare. If he were standing, that would've been a finger jabbed at his chest. "Where the hell am I going to sleep?"

"Oh."

"Well?"

Cas blinks. And quietly declares - for the benefit of Catsanova, probably, because the two humans already know, and are staring at each other in despair. "I may not have completely thought this through."

*

"I call right."

"Right-now-right, or on-the-bed-right?" Cas confirms, voice coming in from the bathroom where he's brushing his teeth.

"You're on my right when we're sleeping." Dean declares, stifling a scowl. It's not like he's trying to be rude, but he really hadn't expected any of this. He hasn't expected to finish moving in at nine, and dinner at ten, and then proceed to sleep in Cas's bed for the first night he's here.

("I'm so sorry, this is completely on me -" Cas had kept apologizing, with blue eyes in full-on Bambi stare. "I can't believe I forgot about giving away the futon! I'm such a -"

"Whatever, Cas." Dean had frowned back, rolling his eyes. "S'not that big a deal. I'll take the couch."

"Of course not." Cas had looked horrified. "It's cold out here, and my couch is too small - it's just a three-seater. You're way taller than three horizontal butts, plus twice the armrest." Dean had given him a look for that one, and if he wasn't annoyed, he would've been laughed.

"So?"

"You're obviously sleeping in my bed."

"Well, you're taller than three butts too." Dean had sighed, still annoyed - but it slowly subsiding to some sort of thrill which was definitely associated with getting to sleep in Cas's bed.

"I know." Cas had sighed back, a little grim. "I'll just sleep with you.")

Now, Cas exits the bathroom, and walks straight to the bed, setting the pillows right. It's a King-size, so they're going to have enough space, really, but Dean's a little skeptic about getting under the covers first. So instead of climbing on his side, and settling in like his body really wants to, he lingers around, rummaging through his bag even though he has everything he needs.

His phone's plugged in next to his bed, and he's just in a t-shirt and pajamas now. Sure, he usually sleeps in just his boxers, but he has a fair idea of how ridiculous that'd be when Cas, right next to him, sleeps in a full, adorable ensemble.

And that's the last time he's letting himself think Cas - or his bee-themed outfits are adorable.

"I'm going to go put Catsanova to bed." Cas announces, with a smile. "To couch, to be honest. She sleeps inside the couch and I think she likes to think it's her very own hiding spot."

"So that's why I'm not sleeping there?" Dean throws back, stifling a yawn. Somehow, it's eleven, and that's not exactly late, but on a day you've moved into your best friend's apartment, and made friends with his moody cat, it feels pretty late. "Cause the three-butt analogy wasn't your best move, buddy."

"You guessed it." Cas returns, flatly. "I made us sleep in the same bed so that Catsanova's sleep routine didn't get disrupted. Now, how about you actually sleep, Dean?" There's one of those I-know-more-than-you-think-I-do smiles on his face. "You're clearly tired."

"'M not sleeping without you." Dean can't hold in the yawn this time, and it comes out garbling the last bits of his sentence and causing Cas to stare at him in a horrified kind of fascination.

"Before you." He corrects, his cheeks burning, when he actually hears himself. "That'd just be weird."

"Not at all," Cas shrugs. "But sure. Just come with me to Catsanova's night couch."

"Whose couch is it in the morning?"

Cas doesn't really think about it. "Hers, though she settles for indirect use of it's luxury, via our laps."

Dean nods thoughtfully, and follows Cas to the living room. The cat is already all fed, of course, and doesn't really seem keen on playing with them - probably because, and Cas told him this once, cats tended to have bedtime installed in their cat brains. Dean may or may not think that's adorable.

Catsanova curls up in the middle of the couch, much like her (nick)-namesake, and Dean's breath hitches when with a slight purr, puts her head on her paws. She's not a kitten, Cas had mentioned, but she's still so small, that she fits on just one cushion, and with her tail drawn up close, and squinting eyes, she's the cutest thing Dean's ever seen.

"Isn't this somehow better than even the best youtube cat videos?" Cas whispers, eyes turned adoringly at his cat.

"I don't watch -"

Cas gives him a look.

"Okay, yeah, I do, and it is." Dean gives in, rolling his eyes at being called out. "Maybe not better than the kitten falling asleep in the middle of dinner though."

Cas raises his eyebrows, impressed. "You're not wrong."

"But a close second?" Dean offers.

Cas smiles, softly, straight at Dean. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, with hands around his ankles, and Dean's on the low settee behind him, staring at both the cat and Cas, lazily smiling too.

It feels perfect. In fact, he's so physically exhausted and mentally blissed out that in the moment, that he's not even freaking out about the fact that after this, he and Cas are going to go sleep in the same bed.

(In his right senses, he would've been. When it got suggested - or pretty much, declared, he couldn't have put up a big argument, because if Cas could be so cool about it, how weird would it have been if he wasn't? Why shouldn't he be, indeed?

Except for the fact that he's in love with Castiel and growing increasingly aware of it as the day lives by, there's absolutely no other reason, he's sure.

So after a few weakly presented excuses, including his insistance that it isn't necessary - "Dean, of course it is!" - and bringing back the couch solution - "Dean, why would you sleep on the couch for my mistake?" - he'd given in.

He just couldn't come around to the point that he really isn't sure he'll be able to survive being next to Cas on a bed for an entire night, and figures that it didn't occur to Cas either.

Because of course it fucking didn't.)

"Okay, then." Cas lets out, standing up from the ground swiftly, though Dean holds a hand out. His voice holds a tinge of we're done here, like a superhero in a mission, and Dean grins, in spite of himself. "Let's go."

Since 'putting Catsanova to bed' apparently only includes sitting in front of the couch and staring at her in adoration while she falls asleep and eventually snuggles so close to the back of the couch that she ends up rolling inside, as Dean has now learned, Dean gets up too.

"How'd you like it?" Cas sounds proud.

"Her sleep routine? She did all of it herself." Dean tells him, as the both of them drag themselves to Cas's room. Even Dean knows the house well enough to not have to think about it. "I don't know what I expected, but that wasn't it."

"Did you imagine cuddles and lullabies?" Cas laughs.

"You built it up, buddy."

Cas shrugs nonchalantly, as they reach the bed, and Dean's too tired at this point to even care who's getting in first. All he notices is when they're both in - Cas half-sitting up, legs stretched out under the comforter, and Dean lying on his side as he speaks to him.

"All you did was watch her sleep." He mutters, not really thinking anymore. Sleep is fast trailing his heels, and well, he's stopped running from it.

"I like watching over her." Cas answers, easily. "And it's a sign of trust that she lets me, to be fair. Cats aren't shy, but -"

"Territorial?"

"I guess."

"Huh." Dean closes his eyes. The pillow under his head is the perfect percentage of soft, and it's warm inside the comforter, as compared to the cold in the room. He pulls it up to his neck, trying to tuck himself in without making it obvious.

There's a pause.

"I didn't want to sleep before because," Dean confesses. "Sometimes you look at me." He likes it, but hopefully that doesn't come out in his voice.

There's a weight shift in the mattress, as Cas lies down too. Straight on his back, hand curved above his head, staring at the ceiling.

"It's weird." Dean mumbles. "Kinda."

Cas says, "Okay." But Dean's already asleep, slightly huffing when he exhales, and so there's nothing said in return, and Cas reaches to turn off the lap and goes to sleep, too.

*

Thing is, falling asleep when you're tired is easy. Staying asleep when you're anxious is not.

Dean blinks awake, with a startled breath, and takes a beat to process his surroundings. Gauging by the darkness in the room, it's a long way till sunrise. He stretches drowsily, an unconscious habit of getting up, and his hand nudges against something.

It feels like muscle, and hair, and turns out to be Cas's forearm, because as soon as his eyes get adjusted to the minimal light - he discovers Cas is right there.

They've both migrated towards the middle in their sleep - more Cas than him, Dean assumes quickly, and are still facing each other. When Dean draws his hand back, folding it under the comforter again, there's a few inches between them everywhere - yet suddenly, he's extremely awake, and aware, and losing it.

Cas is quietly asleep, features completely free of tension - with his face smoothed over in sleep, and lips slightly parted. He's unfairly beautiful, and practically a head-jerk away from Dean's pillow, and it's crazy how much it's all getting to Dean.

Even asleep, he's driving Dean nuts.

He doesn't even know what he wants to do - keep staring at this picture of serenity, force himself back to sleep, or something entirely different, but was he does is turn around.

He turns a hundred eighty degrees, keeping his eyes closed, and finds himself facing Cas's bookshelf.

The easiest way to deal with this burst of emotion is to sleep, he convinces himself, and maybe he'll forget about this in the morning. Maybe he'll fall asleep trying to read the titles of the books in front of him, and forget about waking up to Cas in front of him, dreamy even when dreaming, and forget about being overpowered by just about everything in that moment, as he is right now.

He just needs to go back to sleep.

Dean's repeated this to himself enough times to actually be drifting off to sleep, when he feels an arm randomly fall around his waist.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Cas, still asleep, has apparently decided to put his hand around Dean as if he were a fluffy stuffed toy or something, and it's landed ridiculously close to his abdomen, and his toes curl, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

And if Dean inadvertently pushes back towards the warmth radiating from Cas, and ends up little-spooning him because he's somehow backed up until he's reached Cas - then that's just a whole other thing he's never going to think about.

He finally goes back to sleep, not having to try and read the book titles at all, because apparently Cas hugging Dean to himself like a goddamn pillow, is all his fucking insomniac brain's ever needed.

(Although, he's never sharing a bed with Cas again, because he's sure he couldn't survive another such night.)

*

Catsanova wakes Cas up at six, meowing stubbornly at the door because she doesn't care about Dean's private, middle-of-the-night freakout as long as Cas gets up to pay her due attention, and Dean wakes alone at nine, and ends up pretending he's asleep until Cas comes with coffee.

He doesn't look at Dean different or at all, while climbing on bed with the tray - and Dean definitely doesn't notice that he doesn't, because he's obviously not paying attention.

And he obviously doesn't care.

[angrylizardjacket]

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} 2

A/N: 1654 words. A bit shorter, but we’re getting into things now. idk how i feel about it, please give me feedback.

[PART 1]

Flop of The Month, your band, has an instagram account with exactly two posts on it, and Douglas feels like both and idiot, and a creepy stalker, for the amount of time he spends flicking through the two photos without actually liking them, for fear of you realising who he was.

Colson, however, seemed to have no such reservations.

“Look, I’m on their story,” Colson’s grinning from ear to ear as the cast and crew break for lunch the Monday after they’d seen your band play, showing Douglas his phone, and your band’s instagram story. It showed their notifications, highlighting how Colson had liked both photos and followed them, and had the caption ‘how’d the rap devil find us?’ and ‘not complaining tho’. 

“Bloody hell,” is all Douglas can bring himself to say, wearing a half-smile as they made their way to the costume department to get changed before lunch. It had been a low effort day, just jeans and t-shirts, but it was always safer to not eat in costume. Hair and makeup could stay and be touched up however.

Your band’s page had begun the day with 217 followers, and ended it with over a thousand. There wasn’t a link to your personal page, and so all he can do is scroll through your Facebook while waiting for Colson to be ready to go.

Y/N: weird question Y/N: also, hi Y/N: but yeh, weird question Y/N: was your friend last night mgk?

Douglas takes a moment to compose his thoughts before typing out his response.

Douglas: hi back Douglas: and yes.

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Douglas can feel his scalp itching beneath his wig, just a little, but he tries to ignore it.

Y/N: cool. Y/N: well it was nice meeting you guys!! Y/N: looking forward to seeing if ur band is real btw Douglas: probably wont be for a while Y/N: im happy to wait Y/N: if u want me there that is Douglas: if we ever actually play a gig, you’ll be the first to know

You send a blushing smiling emoji back, and Douglas finds himself strangely pleased.

“Is that her?” Colson asks, eyes shining as he pulled on his leather jacket; with his wig and makeup, he still absolutely looked the part. Douglas quickly slipped his phone in his pocket, knowing that a faint blush dusted his cheeks despite his best efforts. As he waffled his way through an affirmation, Colson’s smile just grew wider.

“I still don’t understand why you were being so vague; she probably would have jumped you there and then if she knew you were part of the Motley Crue movie, man.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said, his discomfort mounting at the insinuation, “that’s the problem, dude; first of all, I don’t know if she like the band themselves, or just the music, and if she does like the band,” he paused, shrugging a little, quietly embarrassed, “what if she likes them better than me?”

“They’re all married,” Colson says, like it immediately solves everything.

“Man, you know that’s not the issue,” Douglas sighed, but it’s clear he wasn’t done, and Colson just waited, eyebrows raised, “you know, girls who are like... like... how did you say it the other week? When that girl from Instagram was in your DMs every other minute?”

“Clout chasing,” Colson nodded sagely, suddenly understanding all too clearly his co-star’s apparent fears, “well she doesn’t know who you are yet.”

“Exactly,” Douglas exclaimed, glad the craft services tent was finally in view, feeling himself grow hungrier by the moment, “and I think I wanna keep it that way, just for now.”

“Better pray she doesn’t watch Jupiter Ascending,” Colson snorts, just as Douglas punches him in the arm. 

The next day, he messages you first, sends a photo of himself and the rest of the band out of costume, but holding their instruments, all wearing heels to help make it easier to wear them around set. 

Douglas: the band says hi Y/N: shit, you guys have instruments and everything Y/N: getting less sketchy by the minute

You follow it up with a winking emoji, and a photo of yourself, out in the sunshine, dressed impeccably, makeup dark and sharp, holding a stack of posters beside your head, advertising your band’s next gig; this Saturday.

Douglas: are you inviting me? Y/N: only if you’re saying yes

Your confident coyness amuses him, despite the way the shoes are pinching his toes, and he tells you he’ll be there.

The next day, you send a link to a band name generator, but more interestingly, you send it right around the time he’s getting his makeup done, early in the morning.

Douglas: early start? Y/N: my shop won’t open itself Douglas: your shop? Y/N: mini mall tattoo parlor hahaha

“She owns a tattoo parlor?” Daniel asks, reading over Douglas’s shoulder between takes, “you’d better make your move or Colson’s gonna go for her.” 

“Go for who?” Colson himself calls across set where his makeup’s being touched up.

“You weren’t meant to hear that!” Daniel shouts back, though he’s grinning, and adds, “Y/N. She owns a tattoo parlor.”

“Really, shit man, Doug she’s cool as hell,” Colson muses, before snorting, addressing Daniel, “gimme some credit, I’m letting the man shoot his shot; he’s my bro, not my competition.”

“Thanks man,” with the slightest smile, Douglas puts his phone away as the scene is reset around them, and Colson joins him in the middle of the living room set.

“I expect free tattoos, however,” he says with a faux seriousness, “because if you like her, like really like her, I’m gonna wingman the shit out of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, man,” he claps Douglas on the shoulder with a surprisingly sincere expression.

It’s Colson who suggests, the following day, sending a video of Douglas playing the bass, asking if you had any pointers. They’re at band rehearsals again, blasting through their repertoire, when they get to Take Me To The Top, and as the song dies down, Colson makes the suggestion.

“Why are you filming it?” Iwan asks, and Colson’s smile is all teeth where he’s holding Douglas’s phone, answering before Douglas has the opportunity.

“Tryna help impress that punk chick from the band last weekend.”

“You’re actually talking to her?” Iwan asks with a bright, almost incredulous smile, “after everything that happened? She must really like you.” He muses, and Douglas feels his soul leaving this mortal plane.

“Smart move; asking for advice from her, lets her know you think she’s talented, and, well, you know,” Daniel shrugs, wiggling his fingers with a casual air. Douglas frowns, but Colson’s nodding.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he agrees, and finally Douglas clues in. Dexterous fingers.

“Don’t be gross, guys,” he sighs, already regretting letting Colson help at all, “just take the damn video.”

It only takes thirty seconds for you to respond in All Caps.

Y/N: ARE YOU IN A MOTLEY CRUE COVER BAND

“I’m fucked,” Douglas mutters under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the message.

Y/N: you play so well dude just relax your stance and shoulders Y/N: fkn love take me to the top Y/N: seriously a motley cover band??? Y/N: you just instantly got 100x cooler

“Okay, maybe I’m not fucked,” he concedes after a moment, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/N: now i have to see u guys play!! Y/N: if that’s alright of course

“Nah, you’re definitely a little bit fucked,” Daniel offers over his shoulder, and Douglas pushes his face away.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Douglas grumbles, and Daniel shrugs bemusedly. 

“At least she thinks you play well,” but Douglas isn’t listening to him, he’s frantically tapping away on his phones, scowling, “what ‘re you doing?”

“Trying to come up with a name for our band -”

“Our fake band?” Iwan asks, arms crossed over his chest wearing an amused little smile, “do we have to play along with this too?”

“Not if you don’t want, just don’t... don’t tell her it’s fake is all.” Douglas offers, and the rest of the band nods.

“So how long are you going to play along with this bit?” Daniel ask, and Douglas heaves a sigh.

“Not sure; until I can trust that she’s not just in it to meet the actual band -”

“Which she doesn’t know you know,” Iwan interjected again, and Douglas nodded a little. After a beat, the rest of the band looked to each other, and seemed to share some sort of silent communication, before turning back to him.

“Okay,” Colson agrees easily, “if you’re serious about this chick you’ve known for five days,” he emphasizes, though Douglas doesn’t seem phased, “if we ever run into her, we’ll pretend we’re in a Motley Crue cover band.” He agrees, while Iwan and Daniel silently agree, though they look rather amused at the whole situation.

“There’s just something about her,” Douglas muses quietly.

“It’s the fact that she’s the coolest chick you’ve ever met,” Colson tells him with far too much authority, “and your little posh, school-boy brain wants to try something new.”

“Hey -” Douglas scoffed, though he was quickly talked over.

“She looks like she’d punch me in the face but I’d be okay with it,” Iwan adds, which, strangely enough, the rest of them agree to with various mischievous smiles. Douglas doesn’t exactly deny that he feels the same way.

“What’s our band name gonna be?” Daniel asks finally.

“The Fourskins,” Colson answers back immediately, grinning wide and proud of himself.

“Absolutely no-”

“That’s kind of genius,” Daniel snorts over Douglas’ protest, and so, on a three-to-one vote, their fake Motley Crue cover band is named The Fourskins, and Douglas kind of thinks he’d rather come clean there and then to you, rather than suffer through ever typing or saying that name to you. But he doesn’t. 

He really hopes you’re worth it.

[dweetwise]

Steve realizes he’s falling in love with Dwight, asks some other survivors for advice cause he’s super confused about falling for a guy.

i’m sorry this took ages, i loved this prompt and wanted to do it justice!

disclaimer: even though this is meant to be fluff&humor, there are mentions of internalized homophobia. i’ve also never written any coming out themes before but i tried my best!

How Steve Harrington realized he’s a disaster bi

It’s just another neverending-dawn-day in the fog. Steve is minding his own business, working on generators, teabagging the killer, clicking his flashlight in Yui’s face until she slaps him—you know, the usual stuff.

And then he and Dwight escape the trial and Dwight’s smile is so wide and happy even while his teeth are covered in blood and he’s running with an obvious limp. But he’s smiling at Steve and praising him, and something finally clicks in Steve’s empty no-good jock brain and there’s only two things he knows for certain;

One, Dwight is a guy. Two, he’s most definitely falling for Dwight.

Back at camp, he has a small mental breakdown. Does this mean he’s gay? Who does he even talk to about this stuff? His thoughts immediately drift to Robin, but she’s not here. Nancy is out of the question. Sure, they’ve grown closer after being stuck in the Entity’s playground together, but he’s not about to ask his ex-girlfriend-now-friend about dating a guy. What if she’d be offended?

Quentin is probably his closest friend in the realm, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to weird him out. Is it weird to tell your bro you might be into dudes? Steve isn’t sure, but he doesn’t want to take the risk.

Kate is a sweetheart and Steve knows for sure she wouldn’t judge. But she’s also a huge gossip, and Steve would rather not half the camp know before he’s even sure himself.

Eventually, Steve makes up his mind and goes to Jane. She’s always taking on a motherly role, surely she’s up for giving him some advice?

“Jane, can I ask you something?” Steve starts, sitting down next to the woman when the camp is mostly empty, only Ash loudly telling another incredulous story to an unimpressed Feng Min and raptly listening Adam. “Only if it’s not about another flashlight,” Jane says with fond exasperation, a smile on her lips. “Nah, not this time,” Steve says, shooting her an apologetic grin for all the items he’s ‘borrowed’ from her and never managed to return. The grin fades when he tries to think of how to bring up the subject. “I think I like someone and I'm pretty sure they don't like me back,” he finally settles on, quiet enough for the trio on the other side of camp not to hear. "You ‘think’?” Jane repeats, eyebrows scrunching together. “I’m not… entirely sure,” Steve tries to explain. “We're just, like, friends.” “But you want something more?” Jane tries to prod for more information. “Yeah. Maybe. Probably,” Steve tries to decide. Damn, his thoughts are a mess. “It’s… um. A guy,” he confesses, staring at the ground so Jane doesn’t see the flush creeping up on his cheeks. He just prays that Jane won’t be disgusted or laugh or— “Oh,” Jane says, and there’s definitely surprise in her voice, but she doesn’t sound judgmental. “Is this the first time you’ve had feelings for another man?” “Yeah,” Steve says, relieved at her reaction. “How do I know if I’m gay?” Instead of blessing him with some great wisdom, Jane mulls over the question, before sighing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you,” she says apologetically. “That’s okay,” Steve says, trying not to deflate at her reply. “But… God, I hate to say this,” she sighs, making Steve perk back up. “This might be the one time you’d probably benefit from asking Ace. He’s very… open about this stuff.” Steve hums in thought. He’s not particularly close to Ace, but there’s no denying the gambler is quite… flamboyant. Jane might be right, surely Ace will help him sort this whole gay thing out? “I’ll give it a shot! Thanks Jane!” Steve chirps, getting up with a new plan of action. “And don’t tell him I sent you!” Jane warns, and Steve rolls his eyes and grins at the duo’s fake animosity towards each other.

A couple trials later, Steve and Ace are mori’d nearly simultaneously and have to trek back to camp together through the fog. Ace is whistling a carefree tune like he didn’t just get impaled by a chainsaw, and Steve figures this opportunity is as good as any.

“Ace, you're like… gay, right?” ‘Wow; smooth, Harrington,’ Steve mentally berates himself as Ace’s whistling abruptly cuts off and he turns to face him. “That's got to be the worst pick-up-line I've heard in my life,” Ace says, quirking an amused eyebrow. “No, shit, I wasn't—” Steve starts panicking. "Relax, I'm just messing with you,” Ace grins. “What's up?” Steve pauses, calming his heart rate and trying to figure out how he should approach the subject. “How did you know?” Steve manages to ask. When Ace only cocks his head in confusion, Steve pushes through the embarrassment to continue. “That you're… into guys.” “Oh!” Ace exclaims, face lighting up in realization. “I—well. I saw hot guys and wanted to sleep with them? It was pretty easy to tell, in my case.” “So it was just, like… sexual?” Steve asks, frowning. That's definitely not what he feels for Dwight, at least not the biggest part of it. “I’ve never really been the romantic type,” Ace explains, shrugging. “If you need relationship advice, I'm probably the last guy to ask.” Oh. That’s a little disappointing. Ace starts telling a story about some wild adventure with a rich mafia leader’s son and Steve kind of tunes out and tries to figure out who he could ask for help next.

He eventually settles on Nea when the opportunity presents itself and he arrives into camp after a trial to find her sitting by herself.

“I think I like a guy and I'm freaking out." Well. That was unnecessary blunt. Instead of laughing in his face, Nea just pinches her eyebrows together. “Are you having an unrequited love crisis or a sexuality crisis?” Nea asks him to clarify. “Uh. Both.” “Well, shit.” “Yeah.” “Let me know if you figure something out.” “Wait, you don't have any advice?” “Dude, I'm the biggest lesbian disaster you'll ever meet,” she snorts, before sobering up and looking almost regretful. “It's been years and I still haven't told her I like her.” “Oh. Rip,” Steve says, cringing in sympathy. He never realized Nea was into girls, but they’re apparently in almost the exact same situation. Hopefully Steve won’t end up pining for years, though. Suddenly, he has an idea. “If I end up confessing, you have to too,” Steve decides, nudging her with his elbow. “Deal,” Nea says, face twisting into a grin.

With no help from Nea, Steve ends up in a bit of a slump for a couple of days. He doesn’t know who else to approach for advice, because everyone he asks is another risk that Dwight will find out. Maybe he should just confess to Dwight? But who the hell wants to hear ‘I think I like you but I’m not sure’? Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Wha's wrong, mate?” David’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he looks over to the man. Shit, Steve had been so deep in thought he hadn’t even noticed another batch of their friends getting called into a trial. It’s just him and David, along with Jake who is softly snoring on the other side of camp. Steve would have never expected David to pick up on his mood, but the brawler keeps surprising him with just how tuned into everyone’s emotions he is. Even now, David isn't looking at him mockingly, he seems genuinely curious at his obvious shift in attitude. “Just falling for someone who doesn't feel the same. You know, typical bullshit,” Steve tries to joke. He expects David to laugh, but instead the other's face morphs into a sympathetic smile. “Same,” David says, faraway gaze staring into the campfire. David being soft? In love? Steve has no idea who the other is into and that he’d even want a committed relationship. And who wouldn’t want David? He’s seen all of the girls ogling his toned chest at least once. Although Steve does feel a little better knowing he's not the only one suffering from heartbreak. He just sits quietly with David and stares at the fire until the others get back and the companionable silence is broken.

Steve doesn’t know how many more days pass, but he realizes he’s getting nowhere. To make matters worse, Dwight keeps being annoyingly handsome and adorable and Steve’s poor heart doesn’t know what to do with itself. Maybe that’s why he decides to be so blunt.

“Do you think Dwight likes me?” Steve asks Claudette when she’s patching him up after a rough trial. “Of course!” she smiles warmly, clearly not getting his point. “No, I mean…” Steve chews on his lip nervously. “Do you think he likes me?” Claudette’s hands pause on his leg, and she only has time to look up at him in clear surprise, when Meg appears out of nowhere. “What exactly are your intentions with him?” Meg demands, glaring at Steve and making it obvious she’s been eavesdropping. Steve is kind of surprised; out of everyone, Meg bullies and teases Dwight the most, which has made him dislike her a little. But apparently, she's also fiercely protective of him. “I, uh,” Steve starts, a little taken aback by Meg’s threatening energy. “I want to date him,” he finally manages to put the feelings from the last couple of weeks into words. Meg hesitates a little, gauging him warily before speaking again. “I didn’t know you were bi,” Meg finally says and Steve has a small epiphany. Bi. So he’s not necessarily gay after all! Well. He’s a little gay, fantasizing about holding Dwight in his arms and kissing him silly. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also like girls; it just means his current crush is a guy. But if Dwight rejects him, he could easily fall for a girl in the future. Or another guy. The thought doesn’t bother him nearly as much as he anticipated. It’s just the way things are. “Helloooo? Anyone home?” Meg is getting impatient, waving a hand in front of his face while Claudette tries to defuse, feebly pulling on Meg’s arm. “I didn’t, either,” Steve confesses. “I just… recently figured it out.” He tactfully leaves out the fact that ‘recently’ means ‘literally five seconds ago’. “Are you sure?” Meg pushes. “Are you sure you’re gonna treat him right? Are you gonna like him even if he grows a beard? Are you gonna be able to suck a dick, or any you gonna freak out and dump him?” “Meg!” Claudette exclaims, mortified and a deep flush on her cheeks. Steve shares her sentiment, resisting the urge to jump into the burning campfire to escape the embarrassment of Meg’s crude words. Sure, he’s thought about doing… stuff, with Dwight, but he’s only been with one person before and even talking about sex just makes him blush and cringe. “Well?” Meg demands. “If you’re not sure, don’t bother. Dwight deserves better than being your shitty experiment.” Steve hesitates. What if she’s right? What if he ends up panicking and hurting Dwight? “Meg, he just came out!” Claudette jumps in to defend him, surprising both Steve and Meg by her assertiveness. “Let him figure it out on his own, or with Dwight. It’s not fair to push your own insecurities on him!” Huh? Claudette’s words confuse Steve even further; Meg is insecure? He sees the sprinter’s demeanor change instantly, going from confrontational to withdrawn as the words sink in. “I… shit,” Meg sighs, running a hand over her face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, dude.” “It’s cool,” Steve says, still more confused than anything. The subject is abruptly dropped, and Claudette finishes patching his wound up before going to braid Meg’s hair and muttering an apology to the mopey redhead.

Steve later realizes neither or the girls ended up answering his question about Dwight. Out of options, Steve decides it’s finally time to ask Quentin.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Quentin greets with a friendly half-smile before going back to stocking a med-kit, not seeming at all bothered that Steve has been avoiding him for the better part of a week. And, well, since he asked… “I've just realized I'm bi,” Steve says. To his credit, Quentin just looks up, a completely neutral expression on his face. “Congrats. Welcome to the club,” Quentin says with a small grin. “Uh… You could at least pretend to be surprised?” Steve jokes but his eyebrows have shot up into his hairline in disbelief. Quentin is also bi? Why the fuck didn't he go to Quentin first? “Had my suspicions,” the other grins. “What made you realize?” “I've uh… I started crushing on a dude and it took me ages to realize that it wasn't really normal to wanna do couple-y stuff with your bro,” Steve explains. Shit, does Quentin think he's talking about him? Luckily, the other just hums in acknowledgement. “Gonna tell me who it is?” Quentin asks. Steve hesitates, but since he's already come this far… “It's Dwight,” Steve sighs. “I just don't know if I even have a shot.” “Dude, Dwight is so gay, and he adores you,” Quentin says with a bright smile, and Steve blushes and scratches at his neck in embarrassment. “You have a ginormous shot.” Steve can’t help the hopeful grin on his face. This is what he wanted to hear, all this time! He feels much better now, he’s going to tell Dwight and— “Unlike me,” Quentin adds quietly, smile fading and kicking at the dirt with his sneaker. Steve takes a few seconds to get his brain out of mushy la-la-land, and then he realizes Quentin is talking about a crush of his own. “Excuse you, what the fuck? You're awesome, who wouldn't like you?” so Steve is a little passionate about defending his best friend, sue him. “Eh, I guess he likes me well enough, but he's straight,” Quentin shrugs. “Like, painfully so.” “How do you know that?” Steve asks. Okay, so he correctly analyzed Steve was bi—it could have been a lucky guess! “I keep flirting and he keeps ignoring it. Pretty obvious,” Quentin mutters, still pouting. Steve racks his brain for if he’s ever seen Quentin flirt with any of the guys, but he draws up a blank. Usually Quentin just snarks and sounds like he’s trying to pick a fight. “Maybe you just suck at flirting,” Steve suggests. “Fuck you!” Quentin scoffs in mock offense, elbowing him in the ribs. “Gonna tell me who it is?” Steve asks, nudging Quentin back and parroting his earlier question. Quentin looks at him, grins, and says: “Nope!” “What the fuck!?” Steve says, shoving Quentin playfully while the other just laughs. “I told you mine! You suck!”

After his next trial, Steve comes into camp to find Quentin arguing with David, which is nothing out of the ordinary—Quentin’s snarks really do come across as confrontational, and David is always easily provoked. Before Steve can even figure out what the argument is about, Quentin throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps off into the woods.

Instead of seething with anger and clenching his fists like he usually does after an interrupted fight, David just stares at his retreating form with a sad expression on his face. It’s the exact same look that Steve saw when he talked about the person he could never have.

Combined with the fact that Quentin likes someone ‘painfully straight’ who doesn’t realize that Quentin’s flirting sounds like he’s picking a fight?

And again, something in Steve's head just clicks.

“You should go after him,” Steve says, causing several heads to turn in his direction, David's among them. “It’s probably best to let him cool off,” Jane protests, giving Steve a pointed look. “I think it's a good idea,” Dwight, his adorable cheerleader, pipes up nervously. “Maybe the privacy would benefit you.” David pauses for a second, then nods. “Son, if you end up throwing fists—” Bill starts, annoyed. “I won't,” David assures and disappears into the tree line after Quentin. “That was a good call. I hope they make up,” Dwight says, scooting closer to Steve on the log and giving him a small smile. Steve stares into Dwight's kind eyes. He's so amazing, always having his back, caring so much about the others being happy and getting along. God, he’s such a good person and Steve— “I love you,” Steve hears himself saying, and it's like time itself comes to a halt.

He sees Bill’s cigarette fall out of the veteran’s mouth and a deck of cards scatter along he ground as Ace drops them in surprise. He hears Nea choke on nothing and hears Jane gasp as her eyes widen in disbelief.

Steve is about to stutter out an apology, to explain or joke it off, but Dwight is suddenly pulling him to his feet.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Dwight squeaks, cheeks red and glancing anxiously at the others, who are still gawking.

Dwight leads him a little way into the woods, and Steve nervously waits for him to say something, biting his tongue as to not blurt out something more he’s going to regret. But then Dwight is turning to him and looking up at him with his big, brown eyes and Steve couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.

“Do you mean it?” Dwight asks, a lot of his anxiousness replaced by a hopeful energy. God, those eyes, he’s so cute— “Yeah,” Steve says, swallowing nervously. “Really?” Dwight asks, somehow still unsure, bottom lip trembling like he’s about to cry— “Yeah,” Steve repeats, this time with much more confidence, placing a hand on Dwight’s waist. Dwight smiles brightly and in a bold move that Steve doesn’t expect but wholeheartedly welcomes, Dwight leans up just the tiniest amount to make their lips meet.

It’s a lot different than kissing Nancy. For one, Dwight is much taller than a girl. His glasses also bump into Steve’s nose and Steve tilts his head to avoid them, which inadvertently causes the kiss to deepen. Dwight’s hair is unfamiliarly short when Steve’s hand cups the back of his head, but it feels nice; almost as soft as his own.

Kissing Dwight should feel weird, but it doesn’t. The motions are the same, and the warm fluttering in his chest is the same. It’s different than what he’s used to, but not in a bad way.

They finally pull away and end up just smiling dopily at each other.

“Um…” Dwight starts, clearing his throat. “At this point it’s probably obvious, but I really like you too,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners because of how wide his smile is. Steve doesn’t care that he didn’t say ‘love’, and he’s a little embarrassed that he just blurted it out like a shitty romance novel damsel, but he doesn’t really regret it if this is the outcome. Now, he just really has to know— “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” Steve asks, not caring if it’s too soon. He’s already fucked up the rules of dating; he’s pretty sure love confessions are supposed to come after getting together. So what’s one milestone more? “I’d love to,” Dwight says, and he’s so happy and it makes Steve grin like the idiot he is. But now he’s Dwight’s idiot.

They make their way back to camp holding hands and exchanging soft glances. Steve looks at the others; everyone has mostly collected themselves, Ace picking up his cards and Jane clearing her throat and Nea sneaking glances, but nobody comments. Well, except one. “It was about goddamn time,” Bill mutters, smirking knowingly against his cigarette. Holy shit, apparently the old coot is much more perceptive than Steve thought, as Ace and Nea both attack him with questions of “How the fuck could you have known!?”.

Steve is on cloud nine for the rest of the day, sitting with his Dwight and holding his hand and exchanging smiles and it all feels so right.

Bonus: Steve’s grin grows impossibly wider when he later spots Quentin walking out of the trees, dragging a dopey David after him by his arm. Quentin is blushing a little and glares at Ace who wolf-whistles at their arrival.  And then Steve spots numerous hickies on David’s throat and blushes furiously, burying his face against Dwight’s shoulder. He feels Dwight tilt his head in confusion. “I can’t believe I made them fuck,” Steve mumbles against his boyfriend’s shirt, and Dwight chuckles softly. “You didn’t see it coming?” Dwight teases. “I thought it was obvious. The tension between those two has always been insane.” Steve lifts up his head, realizing something. “Wait, so did you also know I was into you?” Steve asks. Dwight blushes and averts his eyes. “No, not really—I mean I was hopeful, but I didn’t think anything would actually come of it,” he explains, glancing over with a shy smile. “Glad to have proven you wrong,” Steve grins, flopping his head back against Dwight’s shoulder and squeezing his hand. “Me too,” Dwight murmurs against his hair. “Aw, fuck,” Nea suddenly exclaims on the other side of the campfire, letting her head fall back against a tree with a ‘thunk’. Steve and Dwight both look over, Dwight clearly concerned and Steve with a shit-eating grin. He didn’t forget their little promise, and apparently, neither did Nea.

[fatbottombucky]

Clingy Hearts *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Summary: [Trope] Person A over hears Person B complaining about A’s clingyness.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x [F]Reader

Rating: [+18] Mature Content

Warnings: Slight angst, S U P E R FLUFFYY!! Implied sexy times at the end, like a bit of foreplay happens but yeah

“I don’t know how you put up with it, man,” Bucky looks up from his phone, an eyebrow raise towards his friends, “Y/N? She hasn’t stopped texting you and it’s only 11 am,” Sam remarks and nudges Steve to agree.

Bucky snaps his eyes to his bestest friend, only Steve holds his hands up in defence and quickly shovels the cereal into his mouth. His attention returns to Sam, normally he’d brush off comments made by the man- after all, it’s their friendship to hate each other. Yet, this comment Bucky couldn’t just let slide because it involves you.

“I mean she just misses me,” Bucky mutters and glances down at the text conversation, an adorable picture of you and his support dog, Charu, laying on the shared bed, plus a few back and forth texts that accumulated through the morning.

Sam let out a wheeze, “Dude, it’s been what? An hour? Plus she works here too, she’ll be walking through these halls in twenty minutes, what’s there to miss?” A low hum of agreement comes from Steve, who only shovels more cereal into his mouth. “She’s just…”

Bucky sits up straight, “What?”

“Clingy,” Sam sighs and Bucky frowns, “she’s just always around, always in your personal bubble and constantly touching you,” he explains with sincerity, “it’s cute, I guess, but the girl is kinda full on. In your lap, constantly texting you when apart. If she was my girl I’d be itching for some time apart,” an airy chuckle leaves the man.

Clingy. From how Sam said it, it seems like a bad word. Something no one should be. It makes Bucky frown for a moment, lost in thought over this conversation. In actual fact, he’s the clingy one with the constant touching and wanting you nearby, he likes the limited space because he feels wanted then. He subtly initiates hand-holding, lap sitting and any form of touching, he just likes holding you.

As for the texting that’s Bucky’s fault too because he loves being able to talk to you when you aren’t around. They didn’t have this back in his time, texting and FaceTime, it’s all new to Bucky and he’s loving it. He’ll text you randomly, FaceTime you when working out and call you when away.

Bucky is the clingy one.

“Does it annoy you?” Steve asked whilst leaning against the kitchen counter, now done with his second breakfast.

“Should it?” His voice rising with the question because is it really that bad?

Both men nod, “Yeah, it’s kinda ridiculous how clingy she is. She’s like glued to you,” Steve finally voices his opinion, “but if you like it then… forget Sam said anything.”

“I imagine she sleeps close to you also,” Sam chuckled and Bucky nods, “do you ever get time for yourself? Bucky, the only time I see you without her is on a mission, she’s like an extra limb or something, doesn’t that bother you at all?”

And Bucky was backed into a corner like a frightened dog. His friends listing ways to subtly lower the contact, to help discuss the ‘situation’ with you and develop some ‘healthy boundaries’. He silently listened to them, nodding softly along to their words and chewing his bottom lip, this isn’t something he wants but too awkward to admit he’s the clingy one- considering they’re berating you for it.

“I’ll talk to her, I guess,” Bucky mutters and sips his now cold coffee, hoping that’ll end the conversation and it does.

What he thought was over, it was far from it. You had heard almost every word of the conversation, arriving early to work and just happening to pass the kitchen, their loud voices enticed you but their conversation made you hang back. A longing for Bucky to stick up for you, to admit he liked your ‘clingyness’.

You didn’t even realise you were clingy, it wasn’t a word you’d use to describe yourself or your relationship with Bucky. You just liked spending time with him and being close to him, he always made you feel safe and loved.

After hearing this though, you feel naive and a little stupid. If you knew Bucky disliked all of this then you wouldn’t have done it, if he needed boundaries then he should’ve said from the beginning, heck, you even created boundaries- why hadn’t he? You decided that you’d give Bucky the distant he wanted by going straight to work and switching your phone on silent.

Odd and strange are words Bucky would use to describe his day. He hadn’t seen you, which was odd, and you ignored his texts which was strange. He hated it. Bucky hated the lack of communication on your end, so he decided to hunt you down.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky smiles when seeing you sat at your desk, he rests his arms on the smooth surface and dazzlingly smiles at you, “I text you but you didn’t reply,” he tilts his head when looking at you.

You glance up from your computer screen, “I didn’t want to bother you,” he frowns a little, “plus working, not exactly appropriate to be texting you,” that never bothered you before, did Tony say something? “Did you need something?” You asked with a smile.

“Uh-no, see you later?” He asked a little unsure and you nodded, a smile that didn’t really light up your features like it usually does.

He leans over the desk and plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, very odd indeed. His mind reeled with thoughts and feelings has he done something to upset you? Were you having a bad day and just needed some space? Was he just overthinking things?

The day was long and hard, mostly stressful on his end. He couldn’t focus, always glancing at his phone and even waiting for you at lunch- the only text he received was one saying you were going out with friends instead.

He’s done something wrong. He’s upset you. You dislike him right now.

“Guys,” Bucky walks into the gym, “Y/N hasn’t text me all day and she went out for lunch,” he exasperated.

His two friends cheered, high fiving one another. Thinking this was a celebration, that Bucky had spoken his thoughts and laid down the law to you.

“You seem upset,” Steve observes as Bucky stares at his phone screen.

It only takes a look, one simple fearful look from Bucky for Rogers to know what’s up. To understand what’s happening, to realise that Bucky craves you- he’s the clingy one, and you just fuel it because you’re just as clingy.

“They’re both clingy,” it’s a statement to Wilson, Bucky looks back and forth between the men, “I think she might’ve overheard us, buddy. Nat talked about how she arrived early and was… off,” he shrugged sympathetically to his oldest friend, “sorry, we’ll go explain everything-“

“No,” Bucky cuts off Steve with a shake of his head, “I didn’t exactly navigate that conversation well, in fact, I agreed with you; I shouldn’t have, fuck sake, Barnes,” he reprimands himself.

Sam crosses his arms, “why did you agree? You could’ve just said to us that you’re overbearing, I would have agreed with that too.” Bucky frowns at Sam, “dude, you’re overbearing, she can look out for herself,” and Bucky only sighs. “Listen, imma say this once and never again, she’s good for you. Sorry I stuck my nose in, you just seem like the type who wants detachment but clearly she’s a blanket of comfort.”

Bucky smiles at Sam, an effortless smile and a loving one. They have their moments, Sam thinks he’s a know it all when it comes to this stuff, and sometimes he does have good advice- advice he takes but never tells Sam.

“Go,” Sam shoos him away, “fix things with your girl. She’s probably missing you stupid face,” Steve chuckles at Bucky flipping the bird to Sam as he exits and goes home.

The apartment is silent, except for the low volume of the television. You’re sat on the sofa, legs up on the coffee table and Charu cuddled up to your side. His dog sits up at the quiet sounds of entry, jumping off the sofa and running over to her companion, a soft howl of greeting.

“Hey, girl,” he pets her head softly, her thick fur instantly brining easiness to him, a comforting feeling of home and safety. He walks around the sofa with her, watching you with intensity as he sits down a little beside you- leaving an inch of space something he isn’t used to with you. “Y/N?” He asked gently, prying your eyes from the screen, “are you mad at me?”

The question is simple. So is the answer, he already knows it but he asks anyway.

He stutters a bit, a nervous edge to him, “I know you heard the conversation this morning.”

Your shoulders tense, you look away guilty for being caught earwigging. You bite your bottom lip, a nervous habit, you sneak a glance at your boyfriend.

“You aren’t clingy,” Bucky affirms, “well you are but so am I,” you frown slightly and he sighs, “I love you. I love us. We’re clingy, we crave each other’s touch in a crowded room, we text when only being apart for a few hours. I love it. I - just- I don’t know, I felt insecure and Sam made it seem like a bad thing. I’m sorry,” his speech is rushed and clogy, but it makes you smile.

“Not talking to you all day has been so hard,” you admit with a giggle, the sound raises Bucky to Earth. “Being away from you, I really hate it. Hearing you agree with them… Don’t make me feel like that again, okay?”

Bucky can only nod, the hurt in your voice makes Bucky mad at himself for doing that. He gently caresses your face with his hands, moving hair from your face as he leans down. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but gentle on your own. The kiss breathes an unspoken promise to never hurt you again, to never let you feel like he doesn’t love all of you.

Without breaking the kiss he pulls you to him, straddling his lap and he swiftly stands up, hands gripping your bottom tightly as he strides towards the bedroom. You smile into the kiss, deepening it with a bite of his bottom lip and fighting for dominance that Bucky wins easily.

A gentleness that only comes from Bucky when with you, he lays down on the bed softly, pulling his lips away and just staring at you longingly. A look of disbelief and love runs through his grey eyes.

The look has you becoming shy, you feel the blood rush to your face as he just stares at you softly. You caress his jaw and that brings him back, a simple touch has him remembering this is real. You’re real. He begins to undress you, kissing your heated skin when it’s revealed to him.

His large hands are everywhere all over your body and pinching gently. His touch isn’t rough or hard- like most times- this time it’s feather light, almost fleeting. He holds you to him, bearing no space between your bodies as his skilled fingers dance down your body. The touch creating goosebumps in their awake, slinking to the apex of your thighs. He leaves wet kisses on your neck as you whine softly.

Once bringing you to a blissful sedation, for a second time, he wraps his arms around you tightly as he enters but drops his head down to leave a kiss right where your heart is. The moment is so intimate and sweet, far from anything you’ve shared with him before, you gasp softly and card your fingers through his hair.

The evening is filled with soft kisses, gentle touches and whisperings of “I love you’s” to one another.

[perspective-series]

Zapped Perspective (2)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, arguments, treating someone like a pet, and feeling helpless.

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

——————————————————————————————————–

 Roman ran a hand through his hair, beginning to get desperate. The borrower in hand was, of course, no help either as Roman now searched through the house for a third time. It was evident that Logan was no longer here, as he didn’t respond to any of his calls.

“Okay, okay, no need to panic,” Roman spoke aloud, mostly to himself as he headed into the kitchen. “We’ll just...call the shelter. Maybe he ended up there.” Roman glanced down at the borrower in his hand as he grabbed his phone. “Maybe they’ll have room for you there, as well.” After all, Roman wasn’t exactly in the mood to take on another tiny right now.

 “What? No!” Virgil started to panic as he watched the human pick up his phone. “No! You can’t tell anyone about me!” He didn’t care how crazy this guy was, he refused to be shown to the world because of him.

“Hmm? Oh, right, the wild thing.” Roman had almost forgotten with how quiet the borrower had been while he searched. “Don’t worry, the shelter staff are perfectly friendly, I’m sure they’ll take good care of you.”

 “No! You can’t do that. They won’t even know what to do with me!” They’d probably end up selling him to some lab or something. “Please, dude, just accept that Logan left and let me go!”

“No,” Roman said sternly, placing the phone to his ear. “Yes, hi, I’d like to report a missing borrower, have you seen him?”

 Virgil’s eyes widened and he began to shake. No, this stupid human was going to reveal his whole kind!

“He goes by Logan.” Roman’s spirits fell when the receptionist confirmed they hadn’t seen him. “Okay, well, do you know where I might find him? We went to bed last night and this morning when I looked into his enclosure he disappeared and this wild tiny took his place.”

 Wait...what was happening. This human was actually...holding a conversation with the shelter. There were no gasps or yells of amazement. They...They knew exactly what this human was talking about. 

 What was going on?

“Yes, I’ll try that.” Roman sighed, finding their advice to leave out his favorite food a bit juvenile, but Roman was running out of options. “Thank you, yes, please do. Now, ah, about this other one… what’s your policy on dropping off borrowers?”

 Virgil’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he didn’t want to go to this shelter place. “No, please. Don’t take me there. Please.” Virgil turned to begging, not knowing what else to do.

“I- hold on one moment.” Roman put the phone to his shoulder, giving the borrower a sympathetic glance. The poor thing looked so scared, even if he was cute now that he’d stopped angrily yelling so much.

“I promise you, you’ll be okay.” Roman quietly assured him. “They’ll help you find your human or a new human as the case may be.”

 “No! I don’t want a human! I just want to go back home!” Virgil yelled, shaking in the human’s grip. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. “I just want to go back home.” Wherever that was, at this point.

“Ah-” Roman raised the phone to his ear. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” He quickly hung up the phone, his concern wholly focused on the crying borrower in his hand. Roman shushed him, holding him to his chest as he would do to Logan.

“It’s alright, don’t panic, okay little guy?” Roman rubbed his fingers gently down the borrower’s back. “You’re gonna get home.”

 Virgil flinched away at the fingers. “N-Not if you take me to that shelter or whatever.” Virgil managed to say.

“...okay.” Roman felt his heart go out to the borrower. He had always been a sucker for them. “Okay, look, if it’s bothering you that much, you don’t have to go to the shelter, okay?”

 Virgil let out a sigh of relief and then paused. “...Does that mean you’ll let me go?”

“No no, a little thing like you couldn’t possibly go out on your own.” Roman shook his head. He didn’t even let Logan do that, and this one was clearly deranged. “But, I promise you, I’ll help you find your home.”

 Virgil bit his lip but he supposed that was better than going to that shelter. He was starting to suspect this was all some underground thing. A group of people who had found out about borrowers or something. Though...that didn’t make a load of sense either.

 “I’m on my own all the time.” Virgil decided to say. 

“Wait, you don’t have a forever home yet?” Roman gave him a pitying look, debating in his head. “I mean, I suppose if you aren’t taken we do have room for you to stay here… I’ll have to check with-” Roman paused, once again distracted by the devastating notion that Logan was missing.

 “What? No, I-I can’t stay.” Virgil spoke, panic building up. “I happen to have a forever home already, it’s called none of your business, now let me go.”

“No no no, that’s not how this is going to work,” Roman said sternly. “I can return you to your home, but you’ve got to cooperate with me, are we clear?”

 Virgil ducked his head, tensing at Roman’s tone. “...Fine.” He said, not wanting Roman to get angry again. He could feel the bruise from where Roman had squeezed him before and winced.

“Excellent.” Roman praised, glad they were getting somewhere. “Now, where do you live? Who’s your owner?”

 Virgil grit his teeth. “Like I keep saying. I don’t belong to anyone.” Why couldn’t this human understand that?

“Look, you can either tell me your address or I can just drop you off at the shelter.” Roman reminded him.

 Virgil deflated. “I-I don’t know it,” Virgil admitted. Why would he ever need to know the address of the building he lived in?

“...of course you don’t.” Roman sighed. “Alright, well what do you know?”

 Virgil thought for a moment. “Well...it’s a student building, for a college. And the human who lives there is named Patton Hart.” Virgil said but he didn’t really know much more than that.

“Alright, I guess we’ll start there.” Roman moved over to his desk, setting the borrower down and pulling up his laptop. He typed in the name ‘Patton Hart’, but it yielded no results. The internet could be cruel.

Instead, Roman pulled up pictures of the local university, clicking on the ones of the dorms. He turned the page towards the borrower. “Any of these look familiar?”

 Virgil sighed in relief, glad to finally be put down. He took a few steps away from the human but looked at the laptop when asked. “Uhh, no...it doesn’t.” That was definitely not where he lived.

“Okay, well, what about this?” Roman asked, quickly pulling up the next location.

 Virgil shook his head. “None of this is looking familiar.”

“We’re going to need a new tactic.” Roman frowned. “How did you get here, anyways? Because this is the closest university and I doubt you could even walk that far on your own.”

 “I don’t know,” Virgil said, looking up at the giant but not meeting his eyes. “I went to bed in my own home last night and then just woke up in that dollhouse this morning.”

Roman paused. “You just...woke up there? What? That doesn’t make any sense. And it’s not a dollhouse, it’s a borrower house.”

 “Looks like a dollhouse to me,” Virgil muttered. “And I know it doesn't make sense! That’s why I’m so confused about how I got here!” And it didn’t help when this human kept trying to make him believe everyone knew about borrowers.

“...wait a second.” Roman’s eyes widened in realization. “If you just appeared, and Logan just disappeared, then maybe what we’re dealing with is some sort of dimensional prince and the pauper.”

 Virgil blinked. “...Come again?” Great, this human was even crazier than he thought.

“Well, you’re all freaked out about this borrower secret business, and I've never heard of an actual wild borrower before, so I was assuming you just hit your head and were insane.” Roman shrugged. “But think about it! What if you’re actually from another timeline or something where borrowers haven’t been discovered?”

 “That’s...no, you’re crazy.” Magic didn’t exist, different timelines or whatever didn’t exist. This human was just messing with him.

“Alright, fine.” Roman leaned back in his chair. “Then tell me about your owner, Patton.”

 “Okay, for the last time.” Virgil glared. “Patton isn’t my owner. No one is! He’s my friend.”

“Yes, alright, but what about the other borrowers in your building?” Roman asked. “Do they have owners?”

 Virgil shook his head. “Well, for one, there aren’t any other borrowers in my building. And second of all, no other humans know that a borrower exists.” Virgil crossed his arms. “Why do you insist on forgetting that fact? Or better yet, why do you keep trying to convince me that every human knows about borrowers?!”

“Because they do!” Roman threw his arms up in exasperation. “Do I need to prove this to you? Here, come on.” Roman grabbed Virgil off the table, heading towards the front door.

 Virgil yelped as he was grabbed once more with no warning, pushing against the fingers. And then he saw that the human was heading towards the front door. “No! Stop, you can’t.” 

“I can.” Roman didn’t stop his pace. “I promise you, a borrower is nothing they haven’t seen before.”

 “No, no, no, no, no! Please don’t show me to anyone, you-I-” Virgil was full-on panicking now. He couldn’t be the reason borrowers were discovered and create the world this guy kept going on about. 

“Okay, calm down!” Roman hastily instructed, not wanting to send this poor little guy into an attack. He carefully put on his coat, tucking Virgil into the pocket. “There, you can be all secure while I show you the town, alright?”

 Virgil squirmed in the pocket. He still didn’t like it, but at least the human wasn’t walking around with him in the open. “Fine...but you better not take me out.” He said, despite knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I won’t,” Roman assured him, finding this procedure ridiculous as he finally opened the door.

 Virgil stilled as he heard the door open. He didn’t exactly know what the human’s plan was at this point but he was nervous to find out.

Roman waved at his neighbors, stepping out onto the lawn. He began to point out every piece of evidence he saw, missing a few because to him they were so trivial.

“There’s the little borrower pathway.” Roman pointed near his feet, watching his step. “That woman has a borrower, you can see them peeking out of the carrier.” Several passersby had borrower carriers, actually. Roman should have thought to grab his own since a pocket could be so unsafe. 

 Virgil peeked out at Roman’s words, eyes going wide with complete shock as he took in the sights around him. “But...no, this...this can’t be real…” But it was hard to deny what was right in front of him. Borrowers everywhere, all with a human, most in a cage. The sight alone made Virgil’s heart sink. 

 That parallel dimension business the human had been talking about was starting to make a lot of sense. 

“Just down there is the borrower agency, we can go visit it if you’d like.” Roman glanced down at his pocket. “Unless you’ve seen enough?”

 Virgil nodded, silently slipping back into the pocket, feeling defeated. “Yeah...I’m done.”

Roman returned to the safety of his house, pulling Virgil out to rest in his cupped hands. “Alright, now do you understand? I’m right, aren’t I? Your world isn’t like that at all.”

 Virgil looked down, still trying to comprehend everything. “I...no, it isn’t. Borrowers aren’t pets in m-my world.” It felt weird saying that but he supposed at this point he couldn’t deny it.

“That’s so bizarre.” Roman breathed out. He didn’t like the thought of that world, as he might never have met Logan. “Is it an alternate universe, or are you from the past? Do you have television there?”

 Virgil nodded and again, he never thought he would be asked a question like that. “Yeah, it-it looks like we have the same technology as everything.” Virgil rubbed at his eyes. “This is crazy.” He muttered.

“How many borrowers are in your world, then?” Roman felt as though the floodgate of questions had been opened. “Do you really live in the walls? How do you survive?”

 “I’m not sure how many there are but I survive by borrowing food and such things to use.” Virgil shifted uncomfortably at the question being asked. He was just too afraid at this point to not answer them. Was this human planning on making him a pet too? To replace Logan? He didn’t even know the human’s name.

“But how?” Roman insisted, looking around his apartment. “You don’t have borrower platforms. How do you get around? How do people not notice their stuff going missing?”

 “I...have a hook. And we only take small things that humans wouldn’t miss.” Virgil looked up at the human. “Let me ask you a question, how can you treat a sentient being like some pet?”

“Oh, no no no, you misunderstand.” Roman gave an awkward laugh. “We don’t treat borrowers like ordinary pets; Logan certainly isn’t a dog. No, we just take care of them, and keep them with us.”

 “Yeah and keep them in cages and stuff against their will. Sounds like a pet to me.” Virgil snarked back. He at least wanted Roman to admit that’s how everyone treated borrowers in this world.

“It’s not a cage- well, okay, sometimes it’s a cage,” Roman admitted. “But most of the time it’s a borrower’s house, and they’re perfectly comfortable and very practical.”

 “Uh-huh. Doesn’t matter. You’re keeping them here against their will and that’s wrong.” Virgil crossed his arms. “What? You think Logan is actually happy here?”

“Yes, Logan is perfectly happy here,” Roman assured him, walking further into the house. “I know this all must look frightening from your perspective, but you are blowing this way out of proportion. Borrowers like being companions in our world. They’re well fed and well taken care of- heck, sometimes I wish I was a borrower just to have it that easy.”

 “Right, because being at the complete mercy of a human and having to do whatever they say in fear of punishment sounds like such a great life,” Virgil said bitterly.

“Woah, hold on there.” Roman looked appalled. “I don’t punish Logan.”

 “I find that hard to believe.” Virgil glared at the human. “After all, you punished me, when I tried speaking up earlier.” And he was still worried that was going to happen.

“That’s just because I lost my temper,” Roman admitted, looking slightly ashamed of himself. “You kept talking about Logan is such a terrible manner, and I was stressed about finding him, and you had quite the attitude… but I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.”

 Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. He had expected the human to apologize...but still. “Yeah, well, it only takes one loss of a human temper to end a borrower's life, so my point still stands.” Virgil sneered.

 “Besides…” Virgil looked away. “You can’t tell me, that in a world like this, every human treats borrowers like a ‘companion’ and not a pet or even a toy.”

“Well, no,” Roman confirmed. “But not every human treats other humans like a person, either. Besides, it is a bit hard to resist at times. You guys are just so cute.” Roman emphasized this by ruffling the borrower’s hair.

 Virgil tried pushing the hand away. “You’re just proving my point! I can’t stop you like this and I doubt Logan likes this either!”

“Sorry.” Roman pulled his hand back, forgetting this wasn’t Logan. “And Logan likes this, he just doesn’t admit it.”

 “Did you ever think he doesn’t admit it because he actually has nothing to admit?” Virgil asked, fixing his hair. “But of course you didn’t, all you humans care about is yourself.” Except for Patton, of course.

“That is not true.” Roman insisted. “I care very much about Logan.”

 “Oh, I believe you. I believe you care about Logan like a pet. Certainly not like a fellow human.” Virgil was starting to wonder where this bravery was coming from.

“Well he’s not human, so that wouldn’t make sense, but I’m telling you that you just don’t get it.” Roman shook his head. “It- it’s not all that bad.”

 “Right, cause you know best. Gotcha.” Virgil deadpanned.

“You are insufferable,” Roman muttered, already eager for these borrowers to switch back so he could be back with Logan. Even Logan wasn’t this annoying.

 “Right back’atcha.” Virgil glared. 

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - Love Songs Companion Piece

Originally posted by knosi

Author's Note: This is a companion piece to Love Songs. I don't think anyone needed or asked for this, but here it is, because when I was writing the first part, all I kept thinking was Kevin getting the photos of her dress and immediately texting Jimmy, so this is what you all ended up with. This is for @HockeyandTaylorSwift while she's off her feet for a while. Send her some love! Excuse the formatting, I did this in HTML

He doesn't get it. Doesn't get why she's crying, doesn't get why this is such a big deal, doesn't get why he's in a suit he hates and a tie he'd rather shove back in his closet, doesn't get why he's dropped a small fortune inside a $7 card from Target, but he knows it's the right thing to do… and there's an open bar. So here he is, sat in a pew in a church with no air conditioning with his best friend and his best friend's cousin, who he's had a crush on since puberty. 

  There's probably 100 other ways he'd rather spend his Saturday.

  When she sniffles, Jimmy can’t help but look over. He wants to roll his eyes, but he also wants to kiss her, so he settles for safe, leaving his gaze on the bride and groom- who are reading their vows off of the little index cards in their hand.

  Kevin chirps her and if he was waiting for an opening to talk to her, this is it. Jimmy leans in before he can stop himself, always caught in her orbit, "What are you even crying for? Shouldn't you be happy?" When she rolls her eyes, he wonders for a second if he's crossed a line, made her upset with him, but she catches his eye once more and gives him a watery smile while she blots at her tears so he's probably okay. 

  Cocktail hour is spent stood at a table, eating fancy cheeses that sound nicer than they taste, listening to Kevin and his cousin chat about nothing in particular. He interjects a few times when they bicker, taking her side over Kevin's, always. Finally everyone is funnelled into the main room for the reception. 

  Kevin's been scoping out this pretty bridesmaid since the second she walked down the aisle hours ago and it's all about to come to a head. "Well, I'm going to go make my move. My cousin is over at the bar," he points,"if you wanted to suddenly find your balls, man," he pats Jimmy on the shoulder sardonically. He hates that Kev's a little right, so he sneers but lets him walk away unharmed. 

  Jimmy eyes the table full of escort cards in the corner and scoops up his and hers, tucking them into his jacket pocket. Kevin can go get his on his own, since he wants to be a prick. It's probably time to take advantage of the open bar, and really, (y/n) is already over there, so two birds one stone and all. 

  In a moment of bravery, marked by clammy palms and a little bit of heartburn, he sidles up next to her at the bar. His hand gently slides along the smooth skin of her lower back, exposed by her dress. She looks over, and appears surprised to see him there. He's come this far, so he leans into her ear and plows through the best he can.

  "Hey, use your powers for good and get me a beer. I don't want to wait in line." She still seems a little shocked that he's there, but orders his beer anyway. It's not until he sees her throw a flirty smile at the bartender that he realizes he may be cramping her style and regrets it all, suddenly remorseful for taking Kevin's advice. 

  He doesn't think she knows where she should be, considering he has her table assignment in his pocket, so he leaves his hand where it lies and directs her towards their table, praying silently she can't feel the sweat on his palm and trying to figure out something to say. He's better at this in a group, but now all her attention is on him and it makes his skin prickle self consciously.

  "I grabbed yours too," is what he finally comes up with when he gets her to their table. Ivy league education and he can barely talk to the girl he likes. Pathetic. 

  "Thanks," she says to the floor as she finally kicks off her ridiculous heels. He wants to keep talking, make her laugh and smile and stay by his side all night. He's not sure what he could say that would have that effect, but it's probably not what he says next. 

  "Why do you wear those things if you can't even handle them for an hour?"

  He's not sure why he's always ribbing her. Probably because she always takes his joking in stride, always knows when he's kidding even though he stays stoic. She gets his humor, gets him, he thinks and his chest tightens unhelpfully.

  (Y/n) sits back up and clinks her champagne glass against his beer, unaffected by his question.

  "Because they make my ass look fantastic," that has him choking on his beer and he relaxes, drops his guard and unclenches his jaw. She makes him laugh, comfortable and loose, when usually he holds his emotions close to his chest. 

  She isn’t wrong about the heels, and he thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind that she may be flirting with him. Surely that's carte blanche to take a peek when she stands up. He’s not completely sure though, so he lets her drink her champagne in peace and watches Kevin.

  It must be nice to be Kevin, he thinks. Kevin doesn’t have a self conscious bone in his body- loud and unapologetic. He’s dancing like an idiot with that bridesmaid from earlier. Jimmy’s envious. He just walked right up to her, probably even said something stupid like, “Hey, I’m Kevin,” and now they’re like old friends, close on the dance floor. He’d never be able to do something so bold. Jimmy can’t help it, he’s always been a little more reserved, shy even- especially when she’s around.

  Not when he’s on the ice, though. He feels confident there at least. 

  He wishes he could take off his skates and helmet and not simultaneously undress himself of his confidence. He can feel her gaze on him. She’s sitting there, gently sipping from her flute, he doesn’t suspect that she knows he can feel her stare. 

  She's been around forever. He remembers when they were young, hanging out in the bleachers hip to hip watching Kevin skate around, cheering for the older boy's team. He remembers when he hit puberty, suddenly becoming more self-conscious around girls and slowly realizing that he liked her differently. It was warm and it started somewhere around his chest and dripped down his whole body, heating him up and tying his tongue. Whenever she came around he always lost his edges, stumbling over himself. 

  The beer is settling his nerves a little, so he bucks up and says what's on his mind. "I don't get this whole thing," he waves his hand around, at the room in general. 

  She looks confused and rolls her hand on her wrist, asking him to continue. 

He breathes deep, relaxing at the idea of a normal conversation. This he can do, he's good at having opinions, good at engaging in a little debate, not so good at being cool and smooth, but he'll work with what he has. 

  "Seems like a lot of pomp and circumstance to prove you love someone." She laughs and that's not exactly the response he was expecting, but he'd play the fool forever if it meant he'd always get to see her like this, eyes scrunched and nose crinkled, smile spanning her face.

  "Jimmy, sometimes when two people really like each other they just wanna shout it from the rooftops." He rolls his eyes, but she looks like she really believes it. The way she’s looking at him right now, he’s pretty sure he could be convinced to make his way to the rooftop with a megaphone himself. 

  Kevin sinks down next to her, sweaty and breathless, "I think I'm in love," his eyes are still focused on the bridesmaid. She knows what she’s doing, peering back at him flirtatiously as she dances with the flower girls. (Y/n)'s eyes shine with the knowledge that she's won. 

  "Case and point, my friend."

  He honestly just needs a minute. Sitting here with her is overwhelming. She's too much: too beautiful, too funny, too sweet, and probably too perceptive. She has to know he's different with her around, less cool, less calm, and less smart. So, he finishes his beer and -like everything he does in life- coats himself in a thin layer of sarcasm, "Had about enough of you softies," before getting up and heading over to the bar. He doesn't turn back to see if she's watching him, she probably forgot the second he walked away. 

  The bartender knows his order and hands him another beer, but looks past Jimmy for something else, "Where's your girl?" 

Jimmy likes the way that sounds, so he can't bring himself to correct the innocent bystander that she is not, and will likely never be, his girl. So he does what any mature person would do and lets himself pretend. "Her feet hurt. Heels, ya know? Lemme get her another champagne?"

  He throws a twenty into the tip jar before he heads back to the table, high on the idea that anyone could picture them as a pair.

  He intercepts her and Kevin on their way to the bar, and doesn't miss how her eyes size him up with appraisal as he hands her the drink. Kevin on the other hand is less impressed. "Dude, hello?" Jimmy's still floating on the fact that (y/n) was clearly pleased with him as she takes small, delicate sips of champagne so he allows his usual banter with Kevin to shine through as he shrugs at his friend, "Bar's that way. Cheers, bro." 

  He catches sight of her smile going wide behind her glass as Kevin huffs away. If his chest inflates, that's his own little secret. 

  He doesn’t get much time with her after that. It leaves his heart feeling a little cold inside his chest. She’s up dancing with some of the other people from their table, smiling friendly and big, clearly a little tipsy, arms moving a little too wildly to be strictly sober. 

  When the music gently lowers and the emcee’s voice booms through the speakers for the first dance, everyone surrounds the dancefloor with their cameras out and she somehow ends up next to him, right in front of their table. It’s only a few bars into the song that he hears the sniffle, and he can’t help it, he doesn’t want her to cry, but it’s undeniably funny how soft she is. 

"Would you stop crying? You're a mess, kid." Blaming his next move on a combination of the beers he’s had and his heart breaking while watching her cry, he puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. 

  She gets tense for a fraction of a second, but one hand swings around his waist and the other comes up and wipes at her tears as she asserts that she’s “fine.” It’s less than convincing. She looks around as the DJ invites the guests onto the dance floor- probably for Kevin, but he’s wrapped up in his own little world with that bridesmaid he’s been following around like a lost puppy all night. Jo, Jimmy thinks her name might be, but he’s a liar if he says he’s been thinking about anything other than the girl tucked under his arm for the past few hours. 

  They start playing that Elvis song, he hates it. The Righteous Brother’s version of it is better, almost passable. He has no plans on making his way onto the wooden dance floor, but she sighs, and he feels it since she’s still snug against his body and he’d do a lot of dumb things to make her smile.

  He’s clearly lost his mind as he nudges her with the arm that is wrapped around her shoulders, “C’mon.” 

  She follows him, eyes scrunched in skepticism, but he doesn’t have to pull her much, her body belies her combative words- already leaning into him, to his delight. “Jimmy stop, you hate dancing, you don’t have to.” He can tell her heart’s not in it, and she’s been dancing all night at this point, so what kind of man would he be to let a pretty girl stand on the sidelines.

  "It's fine (y/n). Three minutes won't kill me. Just turn off the water works, yeah?" She scoffs but promises to try. 

  When she places her hands on his shoulders he gets chills from his head to his toes, feeling the warmth of her hands through his button-up and he's so, so sure that she can see his ears grow red. If she does, she keeps it to herself and he's appreciative.

  The only thing on his mind is that he wants her to smile again; at him, for him, because of him. So he gets grumpy, she always gets a kick out of that. "God, I hate this fucking song." That does it, she lights up, eyes peering up at him from around his chest, she's so small. 

  "You're a spoil sport, Jim." He rolls his eyes and tightens his hands around her waist. She sighs again and he almost removes his hands from her, thinking he offended her in some way, but he follows her gaze to Kevin. 

  "Kev's gonna kick me out of our room tonight isn't he?" He looks over and laughs, because she's definitely correct, and there's only one possibility swimming around his mind, and he's tipsy enough that he doesn't hate the idea of it.

  "Yeah, yeah definitely. That's a good assessment." 

  ______

She’s unsure for about a second and a half after he asks if she wants to share his room. Realization starts to dawn and it’s not like she has much of a choice. So she huffs into the shuttle that takes them from the reception to the hotel and stands a little too far from him in the elevator and stares at the floor, suddenly shy like they haven’t known each other forever, haven’t had Mario Party nights in Kevin’s basement all piled into sleeping bags on the floor. 

  He slides the key into the door and she starts unpinning her hair before the green light comes on. “I really appreciate this, thank you again. Kevin’s a douche.” Jimmy laughs because he’s been on both sides of this situation before, but he’s happy he’s here to help. The second she’s inside and he starts to rifle through his duffle bag, she sees the problem. 

  “I don’t… damnit!” she’s mostly talking to herself, but he’d be rude not to answer. When he turns around to head towards the bathroom to change she’s unclasping her necklace and taking off her earrings and he feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. 

  “What’s wrong?” He’s not really good at this, but he thinks shes on the brink of tears, eyes tired and getting glassy as she gently lays her jewelry onto the dresser. 

  “All my clothes are back in my room. I just want to go to sleep. This is the worst,” he’s sure she’d stomp her foot in a tantrum if she could, frustration furrowing her forehead. 

  “I brought extra clothes, (y/n) it’s fine,” in reality he didn’t bring much in the way of extras; what he traveled in, his suit, a pair of shorts to sleep in, and what he planned on going home in tomorrow, but he hands over his clean shirt and sweats and pushes her gently towards the bathroom. 

  He starts turning down the bed and realizes that it’s not a viable solution to the problem he’s got on his hands, so he turns around and starts pulling the cushions off of the pull out couch and rearranging the desk to make room; honestly who even uses it- waste of space. 

  When she comes out of the bathroom drowning in his clothes, he has an entirely different problem on his hands. He didn’t think he’d have such a visceral reaction to her stood there in an old Harvard Hockey shirt and some dopey llama pajama pants an aunt bought him for christmas years ago. The fact of the matter is that it hits him square in the chest and takes his breath without his permission. 

  She managed to get most of her makeup off; she looks a little rosy from the scrubbing. Her hair is piled up on top of her head and his pants are rolled at least 4 times around her waist, but the legs are still far too long. It’s not like she needs them, his shirt is longer than the dress she just took off. He immediately realizes the error of his ways when he starts that train of thought, so he grabs the one pair of shorts he knows is in his duffle bag and heads straight into the bathroom to throw some cold water onto his face. 

  After brushing his teeth and a few deep breaths, Jimmy exits the bathroom in only his shorts; he didn’t pack any extra shirts, so he hopes she’s okay with his bare torso. He throws his suit into a heap on the floor and drops down on the pull out couch, it squeaks under his weight and he knows it’s going to be a long night sleeping on this thing. 

  When (y/n) hears the squeak she stands up out of the armchair in the corner where she was scrolling through her phone, “Jimmy, no. You’re like 12 feet tall, you can’t sleep on that thing.” She gets up and walks over to him and pushes against his bare shoulder. “Move, I’ll sleep here.” 

  He laughs at her trying to muscle him out of the way, she doesn’t look happy about it, but that just makes him laugh harder, and maybe flex a little bit more if he's honest. “Go lay down. You must be exhausted from all that crying you did today.” That does it and she sniffs and turns on her heel to the bed. 

  “I take it back, you deserve whatever that does to your back, you bully.” That just makes him laugh again. 

  She tucks herself into the bed and throws two pillows at his head. He catches them both and she settles in, “Thanks, Jimmy. I owe you one.” He turns off the lamp and tries to get comfortable, “Anytime.” 

  ______

Jimmy lies there and listens to her steady breathing, he's been tossing and turning for about 30 minutes and he can't figure out what's wrong. The couch is more comfortable than he thought it would be and he's exhausted, so he's not sure why he can't succumb to his heavy eyelids. 

  He rolls over and scrolls through his phone, somehow finds himself meandering through her Instagram. It's not the first time it's happened, but it feels a little forbidden since she's in the same room, barely 10 feet from him. 

  He scrolls back slowly, careful to not double tap anything on accident. It's his favorite photo. A throwback, her and him with a bunch of their friends from high school at some beach party they organized for Kevin graduating and going to college. 

  It's too vivid when he thinks about it. Earlier that day he was sat in the locker room listening to Brian go on and on about (y/n). It made his stomach turn the way he talked about her, getting into her pants at prom, one last hurrah before he goes away to school and maybe gets drafted. Jimmy never really liked him (and he never ended up getting drafted, so jokes on him). Everyone else seemed to like him alright though, especially the ladies. So, he kept his mouth shut, shoved his pads into his bag and pushed his feet into his sneakers before getting out of there as quickly as he could. 

  Later that night she's stumbling over to him after a few wine coolers, calling him Vese, like she's his coach. He turned her down, figuring he'd rather not have her explain that she had a real date a few months down the line, rather experience the heartbreak sooner than later. He didn't even end up going to prom, just the thought of her wrapped around Brian was enough to have the bile rising in his throat. 

  Jimmy's not stupid, knows they're grown now, some may even use the word "adults." Brian's name has never fallen from her lips once. She's clearly single since she came to this wedding with only Kev. Then he thinks about Kevin and Jo, how they're probably wrapped up together a couple of rooms away and thinks back to how Kevin so lovingly put it a few hours ago, maybe he'll work on finding his balls. 

  After he makes this life altering revelation he has a much easier time rolling onto his other side and slipping into sleep. 

  What feels like minutes later, the sun filtering through the curtains he hadn't quite drawn all the way closed wakes him up. She's gone, he thought this might have happened, have her leave like he dreamt the whole thing, with nothing from the last night to hold onto. 

  When he gets up to use the bathroom he discovers he's wrong. She's left her dress and shoes from the previous evening behind the door and a quick check of the dresser shows she left all of her jewelry as well. He assembles the couch back together and sits to check twitter mindlessly. 

  The mechanical lock turning alerts him to her return. In conjunction with all of his clothes she borrowed last night, his hat sits on her head, hair curling wildly out from under it. But it's when she wordlessly shoves a coffee into his hand he knows he's toast, made worse by the fact that his order is perfect. 

  His slightly hungover brain isn't capable of higher functions quite yet, so he reaches out his fist, "Best. Wedding date. Ever," and immediately feels like punching himself in the face with the same fist she's nudging hers against. Luckily she smiles and looks pleased overall, so he doesn't beat himself up about it too much. 

  ______

The invite has been sitting on his fridge for months. When he got it he rsvped right away, checking off 1 and mailing it back to Brady. It's only now that he thinks he maybe should have waited, found a date to bring. Kevin was smart, he rsvped 2 and would call an audible as time ran down, and now he has Jo. Fuck. 

  He calls Gracia directly. "I don't want to be that guy, but could I maybe bring a plus one? You can say no, I just-" he doesn't even get the rest of the sentence out before she tells him he's a dick, but of course he can bring a guest. She had allowed for wiggle room because she figured he might change his mind, Kevin was bringing a date so she assumed Jimmy would as well. He's so glad Brady's marrying someone like her, so chill and down to earth, never the drama queen. 

  So he text her. The last time he saw her was out somewhere with Kevin, they made stilted conversation until they warmed up to each other again and cheered on the Pats on the flat screen behind the bar. 

  Playing as cool as he can he comes up with: Brady gave me a plus one to the blessed affair… wedding date part 2?

  He puts the phone down on his coffee table and expects he may have to wait a while for a response and busies himself trying to queue up HBO to binge some Game of Thrones in the meantime. 

  Turns out he's wrong, she responds within minutes. 

  Y/N: Obviously. When?

  His heart almost bursts with a combination of excitement and relief. After telling her that it's next week, she follows up with a barrage of questions he has no feasible answer for and she says she'll figure it out. 

  She must talk to Kevin, because he gets a text halfway through the next episode of Game of Thrones from Hayes. It's just the two eye emoji about 50 times in a row. Jimmy ignores it and throws his phone back on the table.

  He doesn't get a text from either of them for the next few days, and thinks nothing of it. Finally into the weekend Hayes texts him. 

  Hayzie: You're welcome bro. Just remember she's my family. Consider this your shovel talk. 

  Jimmy has less than no idea what the hell Kevin is on about, until his phone buzzes with a notification from (y/n) half an hour later. 

  Y/N: Can I show you the dress I picked and you tell me if it's okay? Kevin said I should show you so you can make sure it matches your suit?

  Instantly his palms get sweaty. He replies as coolly as possible, trying to retain some level of chill despite how very not chill this whole thing feels. 

  I mean, I’m not really good at that sort of thing, but yeah.

  He thinks that's okay. Don't expect him to be much help, but definitely send any and all photos, he's not trying to miss out on that opportunity.

  The pictures pop up in quick succession.

Three photos, a front, side, and back view appear in their text thread and he sends out a silent prayer, thankful that the messages app doesn't alert the other person when you save a photo. After quickly studying them and deciding that she can wear literally anything she wants, when and wherever she would like, he opens his thread with Kevin and sends him two little rocket emojis, hoping he gets the point. 

  All that blue fabric glowing bright against her skin. It looks like she's all made up and his heart thumps at the idea that there is a slim possibility he is the cause of it. The slit up the thigh shows that she's wearing the same heels from the last wedding and as he scrolls down he can agree that, yes, they do indeed make her ass look fantastic. It makes him feel like a creep, but at least he’s an honest creep. When he gets to the side view, he catches a glimpse of the cut outs along her ribs and dry swallows. 

  He needs to figure out a game plan.

  First things first, he tells her that it looks great, and then he peels himself off of the couch and into his bedroom to dig through his closet. 

  Here's the thing. Jimmy hates wearing nice clothes and would probably only own one suit if he didn't need them for every game day, so he's lucky his closet is full of bespoke suits. Picking out a light grey one, his favorite if he's honest, he suits up and leaves the top few buttons open, trying for casually disheveled, praying it doesn't look too Miami Vice.

  He's not dumb, he hopes that this is her flirting, but he's too nervous to get optimistic about it. 

  As he fixes his hair in the mirror he starts typing out a reply. Nothing he's writing is coming off right though, all seeming like he's fishing for compliments, so he just sucks it up, takes a photo, and sends it before he can back out.

  Do you think this will work with a blue tie

  He waits face down on his bed, feeling every inch the self-conscious, pubescent teenager he's acting like. Each second that ticks by making his skin burn hotter. She's probably busy, is what he tells himself in the way of calming his nerves. The speed at which he reaches for his phone when it vibrates counters the aloofness he's aiming for, though. 

  It's just a string of thumbs up emojis, and he feels more than a little foolish getting his hopes up like that, thinking he'd be able to decipher any intent through a text message. 

  He needs a nap. 

  Awesome. See you Saturday? 

  If this is how he’s reacting to photos, he is a dead man come Saturday. He doesn't wait for a response before turning his phone off and putting a pillow over his head, hoping the emotional rollercoaster he was enough to pull him straight to sleep. 

  ______

Jimmy knows they’re supposed to meet at Kevin’s, but he thought about it and decided the best way to make her aware of his intentions would be to go pick her up and be more direct in his pursuit. He gets up early and decides to go for a run, it calms him down, makes him feel serene and in control which is just what he needs today. 

  The phone rings three times before Jo picks up, “Hey Jimmy, Kev’s in the shower, what’s up?” He likes Jo for Kevin, she’s got the same wild streak, but she’s tenaciously focused and comes from the same kind of big, close family that Kev does. They’re a good match. 

  “Oh, what’s up? I was just calling to get his cousin’s address. I’m going to pick her up instead of meeting over by you guys. Do you know it off hand?” He wasn’t really prepared to have this conversation with Jo and it’s throwing a monkey wrench into his plan because he knows she’s going to tease him about it mercilessly, all in good fun of course.

  She makes an oooooh noise, like the canned crowd on a sitcom during a kissing scene. “Jimmy, I didn’t know you had it in you! I’ll text it to you now. What’s the plan, James? Can I help?”

  Sighing, he’s not sure if this would have been better or worse if Hayes had answered. “Help what?” Jo snorts, “Let me help you get your girl!” 

  That makes him straight up laugh, “Jo, please, your only job is to keep Kevin’s mouth shut.” She cackles, “I can think of some ways to keep him otherwise occupied, if you know what I me-” 

  Jimmy cuts her off, “It’s been great chatting, just uh, send me that text, see you later!” he hangs up as fast as possible. She sends the message through with enough winky faces that it fills his whole screen. 

  He feels like he’s going to prom, if he could imagine what that would have been like, combing his hair in the mirror and gelling it. He probably brushed his teeth two or three times this morning because he forgot he already did it. Before he puts his jacket on, he sprays a little cologne on his neck and closes his eyes before grabbing his keys and heading out the door. 

  He didn’t realize how close she lives and he’s there within fifteen minutes. After walking through the lobby and taking the elevator to her floor he stops in front of her door, takes three deep breaths, checks his reflection in his phone’s camera, and knocks. 

  The door flies open and she huffs, curlers in her hair and still in her pajamas, "I'm sorry Mrs. Dennehy. I can't look for Bootsie right n-," he smiles, "You are not Mrs. Dennehy."

  “Nah. Definitely not,” he walks right past her and into her space, hoping he looks more confident than he feels.  "That's a good look, (y/n). I mean… I liked the blue dress better, but I don't know much about fashion," sarcasm is the only thing he knows to calm his nerves and make him feel in control. He’d be worried about her reaction if she were a different person, but he knows she gets him and the worry leaves as quickly as it enters his mind. 

  She gets right up in his face, so close he could count her eyelashes, and pokes him in the chest with one pointed finger, 

  "How the fuck do you even know my address. I thought I was meeting you at Kevin's?" There's no feasible way he can explain that he's trying to court her without simultaneously throwing up in her living room, so he goes truth adjacent.

  "I asked Kev. I figured we could go over there together. Him and Jo are still in the mushy honeymoon stage and I love him, but I really want to throat-punch him when I have to witness it firsthand." It's not not a true statement.  

  She nods in agreement, and he can feel the relief wash over him like a cool breeze. When he sits on her couch she tells him she won't be much longer and heads down the hall to the bathroom. His phone is absolutely exploding with messages from Kevin, and he silences it and puts it back in his pocket, standing and walking around the living room looking at the photos on her walls. He hears her heels clacking against the floor a few rooms away, but it's her voice that has his ears perking up. 

  "Vese?" He hates it. Brings him right back to that night on the beach and he hates the way it makes him feel. Like he has to reject her all over again, keep the distance and get comfortable in the bucket of undateable men in her life.

  "I hate when you call me that." Women he's trying to court shouldn't call him that, that's reserved for teammates and coaches and friends at the bar. 

  She's a ball buster and she smiles sideways at him "Yeah, but it always gets a reaction." She spin so her back is to him and sweeps all of her hair forward over her shoulder, "Can you clasp the top of this please and then I'm ready to go, I swear!" 

  He does as she asks against his own better judgement. His hands pressed against the nape of her neck, baby fine hairs tickling his fingertips, and it's he can do to keep from leaning down and pressing a burning kiss on her neck. 

  Fuck him, this is going to be a long night.

  ______

He knows more people at this wedding, so he’s feeling a little looser, a little more comfortable. It also helps that she’s officially here as his date and not just forced to talk to him out of politeness, she has to like him on some level to sit through this by his side, on her own free will. 

  She’s crying again. She’s crying again and he can’t even stop himself from laughing at her; they haven’t even finished the ceremony yet and she’s patting at her eyes, fanning them to keep the tears from ruining her make up. 

  "You cry at everything, huh?" She elbows him hard in the ribs, and he lets out something between and laugh and a grunt. He’s head over heels.  

  Walking from the ceremony to the reception is eventful, to say the least. They follow Kevin and Jo, Jimmy giving a meaningful glance over at (y/n), so she knows just how clingy they are wrapped up in each other, driving his point from earlier home. 

  He’s almost jealous, but then (y/n) trips over what is possibly nothing on the sidewalk, he does the gentlemanly thing and throws a jibe her way before helping her right herself. 

  "You're a fuckin' hazard in those shoes. Look at you." 

  The smile that slides onto her face is dangerous, "Yeah but they make-"

  "-they make your ass look fantastic. I know." He doesn’t realize the error of his ways quite yet, so used to trading good-natured barbs with her it never occurs to him that present company might have a problem with him being so brazen about it.

  Kevin pulls himself away from Jo long enough to join the conversation, "Keep your eyes off my cousin's ass, Vesey." Flashing with embarrassment at being caught, all he can muster out is a weak fuck you, but it sends her and Jo off into peels of laughter and that’s enough for him. 

  ______

She and Jo are a mess, sobbing all over each other before the wedding even really gets started. The first dance has them crying as he and Kevin hoot and holler with some of Brady’s other friends, they obnoxiously tap anything they can against their drinks to get Brady to kiss his bride. That sends the girls into another tizzy, crying about true love or something to that effect. 

  There isn’t a better wedding date. He’s sure of it. She pulls him out of himself, dragging him around the dancefloor by his tie until he gets too warm and tucks it into her bag, the lamest way he has ever marked his territory. She leads him through all the standard wedding line dances, and a few rounds of Shout, lowering softly down to the floor and screaming loud on the way back up. He’s never had such a good time at a wedding and he knows it’s because of her, glowing in the sea of people on the dance floor with her bright smile and laughter. 

  When the DJ starts calling all the ladies to the middle of the dance floor amid that Beyonce song, Jimmy’s heart stops. There’s no way that what happens next wasn’t planned. He sees it in slow motion. The bouquet leaving Gracia’s hand in a perfect arc straight into (y/n)’s hand. Her fingers curl around it and she cheers with the other girls, before sitting down on the lone chair on the dance floor, looking positively stricken as she watches the men line up for the garter toss. 

  Jo is cackling. 

  Jimmy’s not really one to be involved in these types of things, but he doesn’t want her to take is absence on the dance from as a direct insult, so he heads to the floor with the rest of the guys, no real intent on catching anything flung in his direction. 

  Kevin has to be in on it; he certainly wasn’t vying for the chance to slide a garter up his own cousin’s thigh. That asshole uses his ridiculous reach to knock the garter down straight into Jimmy. After Jimmy plucks it up off of his shoulder, Kevin is pointing at Jo nodding and laughing while she holds her phone camera up high, catching the whole ridiculous spectacle on video. 

  Every other guy must hate him, he’s sure of it, as he receives various pats on the back and comes to term with the idea of what’s about to happen. It’s not that he doesn’t want to rake his hands all over her body, he just imagined way less people around if he ever finally built up the courage to do it (and by some grace of God she allowed him to). He’s absolutely sure it’s Gracia who wolf whistles, she can do that loud one through her fingers, and he’s positive all of his friends are douche bags, even the bride. 

  Jimmy stares at the DJ, feigning attention as best as he can. He knows what he has to do, drop down on his knee and slide his hands up, up, up under her dress, placing the garter as hight around her thigh as she’ll allow. He thinks Taylor Swift is playing, but the only thing he can hear clearly right now is the thumpthump thumpthump of his own heart in his ears. 

  She sits looking up at him, so sure of herself and smiling like always, like he’s not about to have a massive coronary episode. His hands are shaking and his knees feel weak as he kneels down and her eyes follow him, smile never wavering. She drops one foot into his hand and he takes a moment to curse Kevin under his breath. It’s all he can do to smile reassuringly at her, hoping it doesn’t look as manic as it feels. 

  Taylor Swift starts singing about her dress she wants to take off, and his mind definitely can’t go down that road with her bare expanse of leg under his hands. He’s slid the stupid, lacey garter over her bare foot and up her smooth calf before stopping and placing it chastely on her knee, feeling her goosebumps as his hands brushed back down over her shin. Jimmy is a gentleman first and foremost and he’d rather not have an audience the very first time he’s invited under her dress. 

  He can hear Jo’s cackle before a “High-er! High-er!” chant starts and he knows she’s to blame. (Y/n) laughs above him and he wishes he could be the pinnacle of cool right now, but he’s about to combust. She leans in close to him encouraging, his hands still wrapped around her calf. "Our friends are idiots," he sighs. 

  "They really are, but they're not going to let you out of this, Vese," she says his name like a challenge as she wiggles her foot, and he’s never been one to back down. 

It takes all of the courage he can muster as he lifts her dress. Circling both of his hands around her knee; they push the garter up her thigh in tandem, centimeter by centimeter as slowly as he can drag it out, not sure if he’ll ever be allowed this opportunity again. Doing his best not to think about his clammy hands brushing across her cool skin, he hopes she can’t feel it.

  Time drags as slowly as his hands until he hears her sharp intake of breath when he gets high  on her inner thigh and he stops, not wanting to be fresh, but wanting to prove to her that he’s up for whatever the challenge in her voice was asking for. He stops the motion of the garter as her eyes widen, figuring he’s taken this far enough. 

  Not wanting to let go and face the awkwardness that will surely linger once the bubble around this moment pops, he slides his hands all the way down her leg. Never wanting to let go of her fevered skin, lest he never get another chance to touch. Her eyes look wild and he knows everyone is clapping, but he feels like dying as the dance floor slowly fills back up as he offers her a hand out of the chair and back to their table, but she leaves him there, practically sprinting away from him towards the bar. 

  ______

Kevin can’t even contain himself when he sits down. “That’s gross Jim. That’s my cousin,” Jimmy’s head bounces as he drops it down onto the table between his arms. “This is all your fault.” Hayes literally chokes on his laughter and slaps Jimmy hard on the back. 

  “You’ll figure it out man. You guys are made for each other,” Jimmy’s not convinced. 

  Clearly she’s not either, since she spends the rest of the time until dinner arrives dancing with Jo. She has no choice but to sit down next to him when dinner is served, but visibly jumps every time their elbows brush and Jimmy’s worried that he’s taken it too far and made her uncomfortable. 

  He’s frustrated. She was the one who told him to keep going, he would have stopped right there on her knee, but no, she goaded him with her smart mouth and shrewd eyes and he went against his better judgement and he’s furious for giving into his baser instincts. He pushes the dinner around on his plate, no appetite to eat much of anything.

  He can feel her at his side, staring at the dance floor and sighing, it doesn’t look like she’s hungry either, her food sits cold in front of her. He follows her gaze to Brady’s grandparents dancing; they’re the only people on the dancefloor and he can see her wistfully following their movements and sniffling. Kevin nudges him and tilts his head towards her while raising his eyebrows and the beginning swells of Unchained Melody start up. 

  He doesn’t really believe in fate, but it certainly is quite the coincidence. 

"C'mon hotshot," he stands up and dries his sweaty hands in his pockets, a trick his older cousin taught him before his first boy-girl dance in middle school. He’s shocked when she nods, smiles, and stands up to follow him. 

  Jo yells out, 'Get it girl!' and you’re seriously going to have to talk to Kevin about his woman. 

  He gently rests his hands on her waist and sways with her, "What gives? Sick of seeing me cry?" Her hands land on his shoulders, before she stands up on her bare tip-toes and winds her arms around his neck, pulling him close. His chest gets tight and it’s hard to draw in a breath with her standing so closely.

  He can’t possibly let her think for one second that he doesn’t want to be exactly where he’s stood right now, wrapped up in her arms. "Nah. It's our song,"  his grip at your waist tightens as he realizes the implications of what he’s said and how heavy his words feel sitting in the space between them, so he clears his throat and adds on, "Tradition," like a coward. 

  Her smile stretches across her face and he feels like he’s laying in the sun, bathing in her brightness. His heart is flying that he’s still allowed anywhere near her and didn’t ruin everything they had worked towards with the foolish bouquet toss. He spins her under his arm and pulls her back, as close to himself as he can, not willing to let her go for the rest of the evening. 

  High on the dancing and wedding and endorphins, he kisses her cheek without thinking about it as he drops her at her apartment after the wedding. He’s too scared to see her reaction so he walks back to the elevator with his whole body on fire, and hopes the hallway is too dark for her to tell his ears are a hot shade of crimson during his retreat. 

  That night he lies in his bed, scrolling through the photos Jo snuck of them dancing, beatific smiles on their faces and close enough that no one would suspect that they didn’t belong to each other. 

  ______

The ball hooks to the left and he drops the driver onto the patch of astro turf and grabs his water, stepping back and watching Kevin drive one 200 yards, straight as an arrow. 

  “You’re not focusing, Vese. Your long game looks like shit.” He knows this. 

  “Just distracted lately,” picking up the club he plants his feet to the ground and rocks back and forth, getting his stance on an even keel before back-swinging with straight arms and following through. It hooks to the right this time. “Fuck.” 

  Kevin laughs at him, diggin in his cooler for a beer. “You gotta sort your head out man. Nut up or get over it. You know her, you’re going to have to make the first move, she’s not gonna do it.”

  Jimmy takes the beer Kevin hands him, “I thought asking her to be my date to my best friend’s wedding and putting a garter on her thigh was pretty clear,” but Kevin shakes his head no.

  “Bruh,” Kevin tilts his head to the side as if to say, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, “Jo said she insists you’re just friends. Just figure it out so I can stop talking about you possibly banging my cousin. It’s getting kinda gross.”

  He sees Kevin’s point; he still thinks Kev’s an ass, but he sees his point. 

  ______

Obviously Kevin and Jo decide it’s time to take everything into their own hands. 

  Barely three weeks after Brady's wedding and he goes out with the two of them to a bar for some beers and food, maybe catch a little of the Sox game. It's a nice chill night and he enjoys the time away from his own thoughts mulling around, wondering how far he’s dug his own grave. He hasn't heard from her since the wedding and he thinks he may have fucked it all up, a beer and some food that's not on his usual diet plan helps. 

  Jo's sitting across from him, next to Kevin and going on and on about this baby she just pulled out a picture of. "He's so cute just LOOK at him!" Kevin is showing no fear at the clear and present baby fever, so Jimmy can tell he's actual facts in love. The kid’s cute; a little blond boy, rosy red cheeks, and at this rate Kevin and Jo will probably be showing him one of their own in a few years. 

  "His dad was my first boyfriend. He took my virginity at prom and now he has a BABY! I am old. I can't." She shakes her hand, palms out to demonstrate just how much she just can't. Jimmy's uncomfortable at best and not entirely sure where this conversation is going. Kevin smirks through the whole damned thing though. He feels like he’s not in on the joke.

  The little bell above the door alerts him that someone new has entered the bar, but the Sox are turning a double play so he doesn't look over to see who Kevin's waving at. 

  When Jo's eyes light up with mischief, it becomes pretty obvious who's walking their way.

  She slides in next to him and he smiles at her, unsure if she was in on the whole set up or not. Taking into consideration her matching confusion, he'd guess not. 

  "Didn't know you were coming, (y/n)!" She smiles down at him but her brows are still confused, scrunched together on her forehead. He slides over to make room and hands her a menu, which she starts to look over.

  Jo can't keep herself still, practically vibrating out of her seat with frenetic energy. "We were just talking about the old days. Feelin' a little nostalgic." He suddenly knows where she’s going with her elaborate set up and his skin prickles, hot and cold. 

  "I was just telling the boys how I lost my v-card at prom to my first boyfriend. He  just had a baby! How far we've come." (Y/n)'s knee is bouncing up and down and he can see that she's a little irritated at the conversation at hand, eyes glued to the menu refusing to look up.

  "I wouldn't know about that Jo. Where's the waiter?" By the grace of God, he appears and everyone orders. It's silent after he leaves for approximately 30 seconds before Jo, apparently having forgotten every social cue she's ever learned, bulldozes the conversation right along, "You didn't lose it at prom?" 

  Jimmy wishes a lot of things; wishes he focused more in business class, wishes he was a little nicer to his siblings growing up, wishes he picked a different color on the Jeep he bought last summer. But, right now he wishes he could punch Jo right in the mouth. 

  "I didn't go to prom, actually," (y/n) answers, completely avoiding the question, but it makes his ears perk up.

  Yes she did. 

  "Yes you did," he's blurted out before he can control his tongue. "You went with Brian."

  She looks at him like he's on concussion protocol, "I think I'd know if I went to prom or not. My memory isn't that bad, Vese." 

  He controls the flare of hurt he feels at the nickname, "I hate that and you know it." She smirks, but otherwise ignores him; he doesn't miss Kevin and Jo looking on like they're an exhibit in the zoo.

  He turns to her on their side of the booth, "No, you did. I heard him at hockey practice. He said he was asking you." It isn't something he'd easily forget- the stinging rush of jealous hearing Brian say he was asking her, paired with a hot flash of anger hearing him talk about her like another conquest. She squirms under his heavy gaze a little, but looks him in the eye when she answers.

  "I mean, he did ask. But I said no." The waiter chooses the perfect time to interrupt the conversation, dropping plates down in front of everyone. Jimmy wishes he could punch him in the mouth too. 

  Kevin and Jo take the opportunity to make the flimsiest excuses he's ever heard to leave the table. They're probably better off without onlookers, honestly. 

  She's ignoring him having an existential crisis right beside her, watching the game and drinking her water. He can't let it go though, has to take his chance now before he doesn't get another.

  "I, uh, really thought you went with Brian." The ‘why didn’t you’ is implied He can't look directly at her; she's like the sun- lighting up his world, he just hopes he won't get burned getting too close for his own good. 

  When she turns her gaze on him, she looks a little predatory. He likes it. He turns all the way towards her to give her all of his attention, the length of his thigh presses up against hers, "I didn't want to go with him. He was kind of a douche." 

  "All the girls liked him, though," Jimmy picks up his beer and rolls the cold glass between his hands, hoping to cool himself down. It was so long ago, but he feels like he has to know. He just wants to hear that she didn't like Brian, never liked Brian, didn’t even see him as an option.

  "Yeah, the dumb ones," she grins at him before stealing fries off of Kevin's plate, slowly growing cold in his absence. Jimmy sighs, feeling relief crash his body like a wave.

  "I wanted to go with someone else. I asked, but you know…" she shrugs. Maybe she really did ask him to prom because she liked him. His body stiffens at the thought of all the wasted years if that’s actually the case. 

  All this waiting and his stupid false nobility, not giving her the choice. He feels like a heel, "I guess I was pretty dumb back then too."  

  She doesn't let him wallow into himself and presses her thigh against his to get his attention, before shoving another of Kevin's fries into her mouth. "I mean, you went to Harvard, so how dumb can you really be, James." 

  "So," Jimmy stops and sighs, he has to tell her. "This is embarrassing, but," he can't go one more day with her thinking he told her no because of anything to do with her when the fact of the matter is that he was an idiot. Still is an idiot.

  She puts her hand on his knee patronizingly, patting it gently, "You weren't shot down asking someone to prom, so how embarrassing could it really be?" Her smile is a little sad but it doesn’t reach her eyes and he can’t compute much with her skin on his. 

  "Touche, but for the record- I only said no because I figured you'd rather go with him. I just didn't want to get my hopes up only for you to change your mind when he asked you." By the time he’s done with his confession her jaw is on the floor and she seems genuinely surprised by his revelation. 

  Her eyes look a little watery but the smile reaches them, "You're right, Vesey. You are dumb." He knows his face matches, feels his heart go soft and mushy under her attention and he wants. Obviously that’s when Kevin and Jo return, because they’ve been nothing if not completely inconvenient in every aspect of his love life. 

  When dinner is over and everyone is getting up and ready to leave, he isn’t ready to say good night. They worked through a lot, but he’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t have the courage to lay everything out on the table in front of her to accept or reject.

  He grabs her wrist before she can get too far, thinking as quickly as he can, "I'm going to have another beer, wanna stay with me?" He doesn’t want another beer, just wants an opportunity to talk to her without four extra eyes peering into their conversation. 

  Everyone says their goodbyes and Jimmy heads to the bathroom. He washes his face in the sink and gives himself a mini pep-talk before walking back out to the bar. She’s sitting on a barstool waiting for him, "I didn't know what you were drinking or I would have ordered it for you."  

  "Oh, no. I'm good to go. I just wanted  them to leave so we could talk alone. Is it okay if we go to my place?" She nods and hops down, following him out the door and into the warm summer night. 

  ______

"Don't the Rangers pay you enough to live in a building with an elevator?" Jimmy laughs and she huffs and puffs, feet thudding up each step behind him. He lets them into his apartment, grateful his cleaning lady stops by every two weeks to tidy up.

  She sits down on the couch and he sits next to her, probably too far in her personal space. 

  "I really wanted to go with you." There. He said it. It’s out there in the open. She just looks at him, wide eyed, so he continues to explain himself.

  "If I had known you didn't want to go with Brian, I would have said yes when you asked." He looks down at his hands, wringing them and forcing the words up his chest and out of his mouth. "I know it was so long ago, but I just feel like I want you to know that."

  She isn’t giving him much in the way of a reaction, staring at him with her head tilted sideways, with all of his words out there in the open, before a wide smile splits her face and puffs up her cheeks.

  "You like me." He can barely look at her without feeling flames of embarrassment lick their way up his spine, and he hopes she won’t hold this over his head for the rest of his life. 

  He can’t even stutter out a response to her before she’s cutting him off, "No. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. You like me." It’s inevitable, this is the turning point of their relationship. She’s right and he has to be honest about it, no matter how it will change everything for better or worse. He bites his lip and nods. 

  "Yeah. I just… you know how I am. With feelings and stuff," it takes everything in him to talk about, what he feels is, his biggest shortcoming. He hates addressing feelings. He’d rather keep his distance with snark and wit and sarcasm, never letting anything close enough to affect him. But here she is, wormed right into his chest next to his heart. She could tear him open and destroy him if she so chose. 

  She’s intent on destroying him straight away it seems, because  as he’s about to continue his poor explanation of his feelings. she closes the distance between them and kisses him hard on the mouth. She backs away when their teeth clash and laughs awkwardly. 

  "So aggressive," he laughs and wipes at his lip. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest at her nonverbal confession, "Slow down, we have lots of time now." 

  "We really don't though," he just about loses his breath at that, not sure how he’s going to get back in her good graces, "I have to be up in the morning so I don't have all night, Vese. Some of us have been patiently waiting for years." 

  "Yeah, some of us have been," he leans over and closes the space between them this time. He kisses her slowly and he’s sure if she’d let him, he’d never stop.

  _____

Jimmy cries more than he expects when he sees her. She cries way less than he expects too. Everyone is surprising him today, but he thinks he has the best surprise stashed firmly up his sleeve. 

  When it’s finally time, he pulls her close, the new metal band on his left finger cold against his skin. She looks up at him in her sparkly, white dress.

  "Vese," he smiles when it rolls off of his lips, happy the nickname can finally be something that binds them instead of making her feel so far from him like it once did. 

  "It's Mrs.Vese, actually, James," she snarks up at him, her arms around his neck and nails gently scratching the base of his skull like she knows he likes. The music swirls around him and Jo is happily engaged in flash photography behind his wife, definitely catching his love-sick smile for later blackmail.  

  "I can't believe you chose this song for our first dance," she pulls him into her as Elvis croons on about wise men and fools, "you hate this song."

  He does, it’s true, but it’s brought them together against all odds. He’s overwhelmed with love, so he gives in and kisses her, closing his eyes against all the flashes going off around them. "I really do. But you like it, and I love you."

[kpopiskinda-uhhhh]

Would this idol call me a homophobic slur? ft. NCT OT21

NOTE: This is literally a joke and reflects nothing about the boys themselves and is simply for my own enjoyment and maybe yours so don’t take anything in this post serious okay~

~Also NCT are my ultimate ults and I love them all, even the ones that would call me a slur~

So hopefully if you are reading this you are familiar with the boys, if not you won’t learn anything from this post but maybe you will enjoy it anyways

Taeyong, gay AND afraid

So we are starting with our unofficial leader, legend Taeyong. This bitch is gay, super duper gay. But in a shy way. Panic gay levels through the roof in fact one of the most panicked idols in the industry if I’m being honest with you.

His reactions to even the slightest bit of flirting from other members is like full catastrophe level “oh shit”. I mean this video is just a tiny piece of how bad Taeyong is.

However this poor kid seems to have some internalized homophobia so maybe he would call me a slur just to push the spotlight from himself who knows tho love u Taeyong.

Taeil, Straight Man™

This old man really said this and expects me not to believe he would call me a slur? Vocal legend Taeil would decimate me for my sexuality and only slightly feel bad afterwards. Definitely a hetero. 

Johnny, lowkey gay

This boy seems very open minded and like a legend to me and I think he is lowkey open to anything and anyone so I would say he might be like pansexual or something.

Definitely would not call me a slur, a giant teddy bear.

Yuta, gay prince

This pretty bitch is what I want to be. SO beautiful and regal and confident in his expression. Was on a show with a bunch of white dudes and went out of his way to defend trans people and call people out on enforcing gender roles. Literally threw the first brick at Stonewall. Would paint my nails and tell me to be myself and that I am valid.

Kun, the supportive father

Does not give off gay vibes at all but he is also so talented and wonderful so I live him even if he is straight. Fatherly vibes are strong I would let him pat my head.

Manz is definitely straight but a great ally. Would come to pride with me and shout at protesters

Doyoung, passes but is still a gay

This rude hoe makes me angry because he is really pretty and that clouds my vision. Regardless no matter how much I think about it I can’ t call him straight. Might say bisexual with female preference just to spice things up. On the surface level tho he is easily seen as straight and you gotta look into his soul to see the rainbow lining. Even if he is str-straight, he is an amazing ally you know the clip on vlive where he said a fan’s relationship could been a boy-boy or girl-girl relationship just like it was nothing? legend behaviour.

Would not call me a slur and would defend me from homphobes

Ten, Jesus Christ of the gays

I honestly don’t even want to write this part. This bitch is so gay I could show somebody on the street a 3 second clip of him talking and they would ask if he’s... y’know.

It is literally science every single thing he has ever done just makes him gayer and gayer. A list would include:

- supports lgbtq+ artists and promotes lgbtq+ content including Troye Sivan, Frank Ocean, Call Me By Your Name, etc.

- literally is always flirty with guys

- the entirety of is he gay or European applies to him except the European part, the way he dresses, the way he talks, the way he gestures, gay

- an absolute legend in all ways, and only gays are true legends in this house

- literally anything watch any video he is in and you will find at least one thing

Would call me a slur but out of a friendly place in his heart cuz in this scenario we are buddies and I would laugh and call him one back cuz he is that level of gay.

Jaehyun, confusing

Honestly seems straight but there is something about him that pings my gaydar ever so slightly. maybe I think he would not be opposed to experimenting but would still call himself straight. Seems like a good guy tho

Would not call me a slur and would give me life advice on how to be happy or something.

Winwin, talented het

Mad respect for this man, straight legend. Definitely straight like 100% no way he is even slightly gay. Straight and confused. Hope he gets more lines and grows happier in the future. Older brother who is okay with you being gay but doesn’t want to talk about it

Would definitely not call me a slur unless we got into a big argument and then would really regret it afterwards and apologize profusely.

Jungwoo, should be an actor

Acts really really gay. Gay for clout. Actually gay? who knows.

Would call me a slur away from the cameras and then go off and hug Taeyong once they’re on.

Lucas, feels really straight like a proper hetero

I can’t imagine Lucas being into guys for even one second. Still I think he is squishy and I still like him despite being straight.

Either would immediately call me a slur or never even think of calling me a slur, depends on the cycle of the moon.

Mark, oh man

Straight heterosexual male. Would call me a faggot upon meeting me and step on my toes, I would thank him.

Xiao Jun, probably straight?

Not particularly straight or gay, probably straight for convenience. No reason to believe he would be against the gays

Would not call me a slur but would remain silent when Mark calls me a slur.

Hendery, skater gay

Strikes me as a skater boy for literally zero reason and skaters are either emo gays or gothic straights and I believe he’s a gay but like lowkey. Maybe bisexual who knows.

Would not call me a slur and would go skating with me and buy me ice cream after Mark calls me a slur.

Renjun, straight but like in cursive

No clue what is up with this lad. He is either bisexual or completely straight. I can see him liking girls clearly, can slightly imagine that he may be interested in boys as well. But he would never go after a guy, only in his own head. 

Would not call me a slur unless I tried to ask if he like guys.

Jeno, dangerous bisexual

Unpredictable and possibly violent. Might burn down some buildings in his fight against the heteros. Probably has access to many guns and explosives, will not hesitate to use them. Into anyone who also likes causing chaos.

Would not call me a slur and would shoot anybody who did.

Haechan, a surprise

Wannabe gay, not exactly gay not exactly straight either just somebody who pushes the image of his love for mark into the spotlight as often as possible. 

Would call me a slur and laugh about it with Mark.

Jaemin, ????

Strange. Very odd character, seems pretty straight but is really into skinship for the clout probably. Loves NCTzens so would not want to hurt any of their feelings. Would support a girl-girl relationship if they were fans of NCT but would be slightly uncomfortable around a guy-guy couple. 

Would not call me a slur but would ask me who is the girl in a guy-guy relationship.

Yangyang, confident gay king

Yangyang rose to my top biases pretty quickly after joining NCT and that’s because he is a king. Would never do or say anything to hurt any of his fans and wants to grow to be as openminded and educated as possible. Literally an angel with the cutest face ever. Maybe pansexual but in an idc way like he is just Yangyang and whoever he likes is just based on personality, doesn’t even think about gender.

Would absolutely not call me a slur and would ask questions respectively to grow as a person.

Chenle, purity part one

I do not believe this boy is straight but in a very supportive way. I think he could be anything other than fully straight and I love him for it. Seems like such a bright boy and I wish SM would treat him (and all the foreign members) better. Deserves the world. A pure boy.

Would not call me a slur because he knows it is wrong and isn’t like that at all.

Jisung, purity part two and the hidden gay

Okay so I have kept this free of ships so far and I do not personally believe that any ship I talk about is real I just like to analyze certain interactions and I really do believe that Jisung and Chenle have an absolutely precious relationship, whether you choose to see it as platonic or not, they are best buddies and their connection ascends labels in my humble opinion. Definitely soulmates.

On a Jisung personal level I feel like he passes as straight but I really don’t think he is straight at all in fact I believe he is a full blood gay. And a legend too. This boy does NOT get the recognition he deserves at all and is incredible in everyway literally a triple threat at least. 

Would not call me a slur and would defend me probably.

~hope you enjoyed and remember this is literally a whole ass joke and means nothing at all thank you love you Mark~

[anotherloganstan]

Do You Think Logan Is Gay? - Analogical

Summary: Virgil very much likes Logan, in fact they’ve made out before, but he wonders if Logan is gay. Roman is very much exasperated with his roommate so sets them up to talk. [College/University AU with romantic Analogical, platonic Prinxiety, and background romantic Royality]

Based off an incorrect quote from @more-incorect-quotes

Virgil: Do you think Logan is gay?? Roman: …. Roman: Didn’t you two make out last night? Virgil: BUT WHAT IF HE MEANT IT AS A FRIEND

Warnings: making out, minor anxiety, drinking alcohol

Word count: 2,350

Buy me a coffee!

Him and Roman are both on their respective beds in their dorm room, Virgil with his legs crossed and extra credit work on his knees while Roman lies on his front, one earbud in listening to the soundtrack of yet another musical. Roman’s walls adorned with movie posters of hot actors and his acting awards taking up more shelf space than his actual books for college – which is a lot considering he’s an English Literature major. Virgil’s side is more minimalist, the plain black sheets with purple cushions and his textbooks in a neat order on his shelves, the only knickknacks being his cute nerdy figurines – a lot of which came as presents from his friend Patton (and he only really got into some of the shows because of Logan).

Virgil sighs suddenly, putting his work aside before flopping onto his back, his eyes closing feeling exhausted, yet he can’t help his mind from racing, not the usual anxiety but something different, something more.

“Do you think Logan’s gay?” he asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between him and his roommate.

And there’s just silence from Roman for a moment, taking in exactly what Virgil’s just said for a moment too long where Virgil doesn’t think he’s actually heard him and opens his mouth to repeat himself. But Roman speaks up.

“Didn’t you two make out last night?” Roman asks, voice clearly laced with a little confusion but mostly exasperation. He’s used to Virgil being an anxious gay mess – as he can be sometimes too, okay, he just finds Patton so adorably cute that he forgets to function a lot of the time – but this, this is something else entirely.

He vividly remembers dragging Virgil to the cast party knowing fine well Logan, the tech guy, would be there as would Patton, costumes design, and well things escalated…

Virgil is not a party person regardless of the type of people at the party but Roman had insisted with a sly smile and the comment of ‘well, Logan will be there too, you know?’ So, of course he’d said yes and been dragged along by Roman – who was dressed to the highest heavens in tight white pants, a black tank top, and his red and white bomber jacket whilst Virgil’s in his usual skinny jeans, a band t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Even Roman had to admit that he looked good especially with his eyeliner all smudged and lips painted a pale pink.

Patton’s there in the hallway chatting as they enter but immediately drops everything when he catches them. He flings himself into Roman’s arms who easily picks him up and hugs him, Patton presses a big kiss to his cheek and it’s obvious from a mile away that they’re madly in love with each other just they haven’t really gotten there themselves yet. Roman puts him down and Patton gives Virgil a one-armed hug accompanied with the question, “how are my two favourite boys?”

And Roman makes a strangled sort of noise before laughing it off and replying, “I thought Logan was one of you favourite boys?”

Patton laughs too with a shrug and pulls them both to the drinks table, but Virgil can’t help being distracted by the mere mention of Logan’s name. He’s handed a plastic cup with vodka and lemonade in, he thanks Patton and takes a few sips when he knows it’s not too strong.

And he doesn’t know how long he’s been here yet, all he knows is that Roman and Patton are both missing, and some theatre girl may or may not be trying to chat him up or at the very least trying to get to know him which he does not want. So, he excuses him to get another drink, just his third (and probably last) of the night – he’s not drunk but he’s not sober either.

“Hello, Virgil,” a voice greets him, the low tone and the way his name is said like that lets him know it’s Logan, the man he’d maybe been hoping to avoid all night or maybe hoping to run into… Virgil’s not too sure what he wants. Virgil turns to look at him and his words are stuck in his throat at the simple look of him. The ever so smart Logan looking, well, casual in a navy t-shirt, jeans, and a black jacket, and Virgil might just need to lay down for a moment or seven.

“Hi, L,” he responds blatantly, “uh, how are you doing?”

The question is lame and he’s about to make a quick exit, but Logan responds, “I’m quite alright but, you know, parties aren’t really my thing, I felt as if I should make an appearance though. How are you? I’m aware this isn’t exactly your scene either.”

He’s right. And they have so much in common that it makes Virgil want to bang his head against the wall because Logan is so god damn perfect in his eyes with his stupid glasses and stupidly soft hair and stupid smart wit and stupid stupid-ness.

“Uh, I’m alright, I mean the alcohol isn’t so bad but I’ve no idea where Roman’s gone, probably with Patton somewhere kissing his face off,” he says, laughing lightly at the end, watching as Logan too laughs, his eyes shutting slightly and he needs to stop being so attractive or Virgil is really going to do something he regrets later on.

He does. He does something very, very stupid but very, very right. He kisses Logan, completely ignoring the other’s response, in fact cutting him off just to feel his lips on his own. Logan stiffens obviously but his hands grasp at Virgil’s leather jacket, holding him close and a silent indication to ‘keep going, please’. They only separate when someone coughs and reminds them that they’re blocking the drinks table.

So, they flush and move to the side of the room, in the darkest corner possible. Virgil opens his mouth to respond but Logan is quicker in kissing him, harder and with more force than before, and his hands find Logan’s hips holding him steady much more than to keep Logan close. And his tongue is inching into Logan’s mouth, gladly allowed access and he just doesn’t stop. He kisses and kisses him until he feels nothing but Logan and the faint taste of gin on his tongue – because of course Logan drinks gin.

And that’s how Roman finds them, pressed up against the far wall practically devouring each other. Roman pulls him back by the collar of his jacket, his eyes fly open as does Logan’s who looks more than embarrassed to see Roman standing right there and averts his eyes.

“Enjoying yourselves there?” Roman asks, cocky and smartarsed as ever, and when he gets no response but various noises he says, “alright, come on, we’re being kicked out since it’s so late.”

He ushers Virgil away so they can walk home and faintly hears Logan telling him he’ll text him at some point. He doesn’t text him when he gets home or in the morning or at lunch time.

“But what if he meant it as a friend!?” Virgil shouts, panicked and clearly doubting himself as he sits up from his position and faces Roman, playing with his own fingers, and clearly this is something he needs to talk about but maybe not with Roman.

So, Roman sends a sneaky text to Logan:

Hey nerd, your not-quite-boyfriend is freaking out over your last nights make outs, come reassure him or I’ll have your head xoxox

Then one to Patton:

Yo, Pappy, mind if I come hang around yours for a bit, I have a feeling my room is going to be occupied with two nerds grossly making out for the rest of the night xoxoxoxoxox

And he sighs, looking back at Virgil, ready to fill in the time with some good old-fashioned romantic advice till Logan arrives.

“Look, dude,” he says, taking his ear bud out and sitting on the edge of his bed opposite Virgil’s very position, “he likes you, a lot, he’s just bad with feeling and shit. I don’t really know if he’s gay but he’s into you, he was full on making out with you for god knows how long last night and has been eying you up for weeks now trying to work up the courage to make a move, you know, just like you, you emo nightmare.”

Virgil still doesn’t look convinced, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pulled into a pout almost, “but…” he starts only to weakly trail off. Roman sighs.

“Virge, you’re a catch whether you like to believe it or not,” he starts, looking Virgil right in the eye, still staring at him when he blushes and looks to the ground, “you’re smart and witty and a little cynical but I’m sure Logan finds that endearing, plus you’re hot so… that’s a plus.”

Virgil laughs, half hearted and weak but it’s a start.

“But seriously, if you and him don’t get together soon I will scream, you’re meant to be, call it true love,” he finishes dramatically flopping onto his back with his hands in the air, “and I get to be your best man when you two get married!”

And Virgil opens his mouth to respond, something witty or cynical no doubt, but is cut off by three brisk knocks at the door. So, he gets up and opens it to reveal a somewhat messy Logan on the other side, wearing nothing but a grey low V-necked t-shirt and jogging pants as well as trainers, his hair mussed too (as if he’s been running his hand through it constantly which he has) and he doesn’t look as if he’s slept much last night. And Virgil hates how his heart jumps to his throat at the mere sight of the other man.

“That is my cue to leave,” Roman announces, slipping on his trainers and bomber jacket before squeezing past the soon to be couple, “and don’t wait up for me I’ll be at Patton’s.”

Just like that’s he’s gone down the corridor which Logan is still currently standing in.

Virgil steps to the side letting Logan in with a silent nod and letting the door shut behind him. Logan looks awkward as hell just standing there, not looking at Virgil but rather around their room. Virgil goes to tell him to sit down but Logan moves closer to him, looking at him weirdly before seeming to gather up the courage to reach out and hold both of his hands with his own. It’s sort of sweet in an awkward, stiff way that Logan doesn’t know how to be otherwise – unless he’s a little tipsy of course.

“Look, V,” Logan says with such seriousness in his voice that Virgil’s heart drops, he’s waiting for the ‘it was a drunken mistake’ or the ‘it’s me not you’ but that’s not what comes.

“I like you, Virgil, I really like you a lot but I’m not good at this,” he says, gesturing with his head to the intertwined fingers, “I’m not good with feelings or with physically showing them like, you know, like Roman does or even Patton, I’m not a physical person but, well, last night we kind of…” he trails off, cheeks flushing a pretty red and Virgil can’t help the warmth he feels in his chest, a smile creeping onto his face.

“We made out, L,” he offers, snarky but quiet, fond, as if anything louder would break what they have.

“We, um, yes, we did,” Logan stutters out, clearly trying to get his thoughts together into coherent words, “we did. And I don’t want you to think that’s all it was, that’s all I want because, well, because I really like you, and I realise I’m talking around in circles.” He gives a weak laugh, forced to try and prompt Virgil into talking to him, to reassure him that he hasn’t read this wrong and the Virgil may feel the same.

“I think I get it, L,” he says softly, brushing his fingers over the back of Logan’s hands, “you like me, you like like me, you have romantic feelings towards me.”

Logan laughs lightly at the serious words from Virgil, maybe a deflection to avoid using the L-word. And Virgil doesn’t want to use that word either, not just yet.

“But I like you too, Lo,” he says, all serious again, “I like you very much and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by saying something so soon and last night well I didn’t know if you meant anything by it or not, I was just paranoid and scared because what if it ruined us forever, what if you never wanted to speak to me again, what if-” He pauses to take a harsh breath, focusing on the way Logan’s hands tighten around his own to ground him.

“Virgil,” Logan says, one hand leaving Virgil’s own to gently and hesitantly cup Virgil’s jaw, “I would never leave you, you could never do anything to make me hate you or stop being your friend, I care for you far too much, V.”

And, god, does that make Virgil feel a little bit sick. But in a good way.

“I- Lo, I…” he tries to get his words out, but he can’t, his words catch in his throat and he feels choked up.

“Hey, no, V, none of that,” Logan says, pausing for a moment and hesitating before pulling Virgil into a hug, it’s loose but warm and comforting. And Virgil sags into it, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder and taking some deep breaths, merely enjoying the closeness of the other.

They’ll talk about this all later, about officially becoming boyfriends, and Roman will ring them and ask if they’ve ‘sorted their shit out’ and Virgil will hang up on him only to be called by Patton and tell him everything as Logan lays against him, eyes closing and his head right over Virgil’s heart. And Virgil cannot wait.