#I just saw another gay say this and my blood is fucking boiling

[philsmeatylegss]

I fucking hate with a burning passion when queer people defend Israel by saying “they would kill you in Palestine for being gay” or something along those lines.

Putting aside the fact that is completely untrue, even in a situation where somehow every Palestinian wanted me dead for being gay, I would still be on their side.

Genocide is wrong. Period. I couldn’t care less about their opinions on my sexuality. Palestinians are being slaughtered for the crime of just existing. And that is not okay.

Queers who aren’t pro-Palestine are an embarrassment to the community.

[forcebookish]

I saw someone say that “Boston has done nothing wrong!”

And I’m like. He sexually harassed/assaulted Top MULTIPLE times??? It could not be more black and white. Top said. I do not want to have sex with you. I am not interested. LIKE YOU CANT GET CLEARER THAN THAT.

But Boston continued. Even though he KNEW Top was dating someone else and not interested in him. Which ended in him coercing Top, under false pretenses, to have sex with him. Boston knew he was lying about Ray and Mew sleeping together. There’s no way he didn’t know Mew has never been into Ray.

Oh does it not count because you don’t find Top likable? Sorry. I wasn’t aware that assault doesn’t count if the person isn’t nice enough.

And that’s not even getting into how he knowingly played with Nick’s feelings and led him on even though he had no intention of seriously dating him. Like that is text in the show. Boston says. Maybe in the future we’ll date. Even though, at that point he doesn’t intend to date Nick. He just likes hooking up with him.

Like. None of this makes the terrible things that have happened to Boston okay. But like. Those terrible things also don’t excuse what he has done. Like. It’s unacceptable that he was recorded without his consent while having sex. And then it was shown to so many people. That’s horrific. And that is a crime. But it doesn’t mean that anything he’s done before or after is absolved.

Like it absolutely enrages me that even if you think the car sex was completely consensual. Boston still groped and harassed Top multiple times. Like. That is sexual assault. That is sexual harassment.

Boston is certainly and interesting character. And Neo is really showing his range as an actor in making me sometimes feel sorry for a character who has done horrible things. Like he’s shown that Boston has many layers.

But he still hasn’t even had to apologize for what he did to Top. And the fact that I see people act like Boston is somehow completely innocent in all this makes my blood boil. I’m sorry for ranting but my god.

don't apologize, you're completely right, anon! the other day i got in an argument with someone who kept bringing up stuff that they just... disliked about top? and when i told them that was all irrelevant, that all that matters is that boston was told to stop and didn't, they called me a jerk!!! it's fucking unreal the lengths this fandom will go to justify sexual assault.

this is kind of the thing with this fandom, they don't really understand what it means to be "morally gray" or even morality in general. they think that what is "immoral" about boston is his promiscuity (something that, if you don't subscribe to an abrahamic religion/puritanical society, is in fact morally neutral - if we go by the "sex is immoral" doctrine taught in those contexts then gay sex is never moral - which, you know, based on how homophobic BL fandom can be, AND PARTICULARLY THIS FANDOM I SEE YOU TIKTOKERS ACCUSING TOPCHEUM OF FUCKING I SEE YOU, it wouldn't surprise me if that's a part of it), when it's the ASSAULT, it's the NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER.

boston is a bad person, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have, like you said, layers. not everything about someone has to be bad for them to be a bad person - and you can still feel sorry for them when undeserved shit happens to them. but this fandom can't seem to wrap their heads around that. for some reason, despite this show being "messy," when someone actually messes up they're evil and when someone does something deliberately hurtful to another human being it's either ERASED FROM THEIR MEMORIES or justified in a way that makes them completely blameless or even something good (and not story-good like how i feel about sand LOSING HIS SHIT and destroying his phone to steal the audio and fuck with ray's head/ruin top's life; i mean, people thinking that ray exposed top AT MEW'S BIRTHDAY PARTY out of the goodness of his heart lmao).

it's sooooooo frustrating, anon >:(

[fruitcoops]

Hello firstly I’d just like to say off of your recent fic angry loops is sexy loops and also if you feel up to it would you be willing to write a fic of loops loosing his temper on the ice like fully dropping his gloves and fighting I know you’ve done a couple before where he’s been defending James and the one with greyback but I think it’d be cool to see him loose his head because of what’s been done directly to him and not his team mates? Also I hope you’re taking care of yourself!

Yes, I love this prompt! It’s not a knock-down-drag-out fight, but I hope you enjoy it anyway ❤️ SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for homophobia, mentioned slur (not explicit), mild violence

They were still muttering behind him, laughing about some inside joke that was almost certainly at his expense. Just keep swimming, he thought as the refs reviewed a call.

“—not about to pussy out,” one of the guys snorted. “What, you think I can’t beat him?”

Remus ground his teeth.

Not two seconds later, something prodded the back of his shoulder. He ignored it. Not worth the penalty. A second poke nearly made him veer off course.

“Can I help you?” Remus asked as he finally turned. His annoyance bled into every word, but the two idiots only grinned. They were enforcers; big guys like Kuny, except without the kindness or intelligence in their eyes.

“How much did you have to pay to get your spot on this team?” one of them taunted, cocking an eyebrow. “Oh, sorry. How much did your boyfriend have to pay?”

“Less than your dad paid me last night,” he deadpanned. The refs would be done soon, and then he could find an excuse to drop the gloves. Deep breaths, his dad would say.

His mother would tell him to knock ‘em dead.

“Hey.” The next push was even harder; the bigger man’s voice was angry, now. Remus smiled to himself. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Who are you, my mother?” he snorted, though he turned again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Finn nudge Talker with his elbow.

“I bet she’s real proud of you for sleeping your way to the top.”

“She is, actually.”

A gleam lit in his watery blue eyes, as if he had won something. “So you admit it?”

“What, that my mom’s proud of me and you’re an asshole? It’s not like it’s a secret.”

The shorter man—who had a good three inches on Remus but wasn’t nearly as fast—sneered. “My friend here bet me ten bucks you’d fight.”

“Ten bucks?” Remus widened his eyes. “Wow! You could buy yourself an ice cream with that! Good for you, buddy!”

Mauve colored his cheeks and tree-trunk neck as he skated right into Remus’ personal space. “I’m willing to lose that bet if it means knocking that smug look off your face,” he snarled.

Remus rolled his eyes and started heading back to his team. The review was clearly almost done. It was time to get his head off the schoolyard and into the game. “In your dreams, asshole.”

“Run along back home, you—“

The slur hung in the air like a swarm of bees. Remus stopped cold. Everyone within earshot went still.

Remus sighed, and slowly turned to face them again. “I really wish you didn’t just say that.”

A vicious glimmer crossed the shorter man’s beady eyes. “And what—“

The sickening snap of his nose beneath Remus’ knuckles and the ensuing shriek harmonized beautifully with the pulse pounding in his ears. Blood dripped through thick fingers. “Call me that again,” Remus said calmly, skating toward him despite the anger snarling inside his chest. “Do it.”

The taller man stepped in front of him. “Look, dude—“

“You wanted a fight, didn’t you?” Remus shoved him in the chest. “Ten bucks to get a rise out of the rookie? Your friend called me a slur and got exactly what he deserved for it, so either fight me like you wanted or stay the fuck out of my way.”

Talker’s hand was solid on his shoulder. “Loops—“

“What’s it gonna be?” Remus asked, making unblinking eye contact with the enforcer.

There was a pause, then a shake of the head. “You’re fuckin’ crazy, Lupin. Should’ve stayed on the bench where you belong.”

“Call me another slur and I’ll show you exactly where I belong, you second-rate coward. Now pull your head out of your ass and play the game with some dignity. Enjoy your ten bucks.”

Finn whistled lowly as he rejoined the group; Talker was still holding his shoulder, like he was afraid Remus was going to do something stupid. That was probably for the best. One of the refs raised a brow and blew his whistle. “Number six, two minutes for fighting. Number 14, five minutes for discrimination.”

“What?” The shorter enforcer spluttered around the fresh gauze in his hand. “He broke my fuckin’ nose!”

“Welcome to hockey,” the ref said drily. “Next time, read the rules about offensive language.”

“He played the gay card!”

Remus rounded on him, blood boiling. “I played the ‘get the fuck out of my face and don’t call me a slur’, you—“

“Okay,” James interrupted, skating between them with a palm on Remus’ chest. He lowered his voice, eyes softening in concern. “Two minutes is more than enough, yeah? We need you out here. You can kick his ass once you’re both out of the box.”

Remus clenched his jaw so hard his mouthguard squeaked, but he nodded and headed toward the box after a short pause. He already achieved his goal; those two minutes would be a goddamn victory lap.

Sirius’ proud smile and light shoulder check as he passed wasn’t half-bad, either.

[insomniatictrash]

𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

Yandere! Baji x reader

Warning!: Violence, Swearing, implied stalking, implied death!

Recommended Playlist!:

Okay- Chase Atlantic

Daisy 2.0- Ashnikko, Hustune Miku

Forget me too_ Machine Gun Kelly, Halsey

Paparrazi- Kim Dracula

overdose- KAIBA ,KRAMAARA

Baji clenched his first as he glanced over to the couple that was only a few feet away from him. Now normally he wouldn't give a shit or even have noticed them but this time was different. That dudes arm, the dudes God mother fucking damn arm was draped over HIS angles shoulders. His blood was boiling as he tried to suppress the urge he had to march over and beat the bastard to death and claim his angel. He forced himself to turn his gaze away from the couple to keep from doing anything that would ruin what view his angle had of him. But one moment later he noticed them walking away and deciding in the end to tail them, after all he couldnt let his angel out of his view could he? What if something happened and he wasn't there to protect them? He'd never forgive himself.

'How far are they going to walk for?' Baji asked himself as he tailed the couple keeping quite and trying to keep unseen by the couple, he's followed them all the way to a park, a none populated spot of the park might he add, it was a bit weird a first glance but he knew something was up. They stopped and sat at a bench and Baji took the chance to hide behind a tree far enough to where they couldnt see him but he could see them perfectly. He wasn't paying attention much to what they were saying all his attention on his angel, how did they always seem to look so perfect? The way their skin looked so smooth and their hair always looked so shiny amazed him. But within a moment rage over took his body as he saw that gay, that fucking filthy pig lean in to kiss HIS angel, that made him snap. Baji marched right up to the couple and grabbed the bastard up by his shirt and started to beat him to a bloody pulp, he didnt hear the cries of his angel begging him to stop, he was seeing red and wanted to get rid of this guy. What felt like after a eternity Baji stopped letting out small huffs as he stood up looming over the now bloody and lifeless body laying on the ground, he heard a branch snap from behind him and there stood his angel, their face had a look of fear on it but they were so fucking beautiful that he didnt even notice the fearful look on their face making his way over to them smiling putting his bloody hands on both of their cheeks holding their face in his hands, it was so soft and warm. "W-why? Baji, what the fuck has gotten into you?!" they yelled making him frown for a moment but then a wide toothy smile replaced that frown as he looked at them keeping his hands on their face, his grip starting to tighten "Why? Why the fuck else? You're mine damn it and that bitch had to go. He had the nerve to touch what's mine. Besides if anything you should be thanking me for getting rid of that fucking pig you called a 'boyfriend'. Now come on lets go home so I can love MY angel." He said gripping their wrist pulling them along behind him, he had them now and if he has to kill another person then he'll do just that. They were all his and there was no way in hell ANYONE was taking what was his.

[poisoned-peppermint]

Part 3 of incorrect quotes because people liked the other ones

~~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

Bad: Aren't you forgetting something?

Skeppy: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Bad's forehead before running out.*

Bad: No, pay your bill! Dang it, who raised you? 

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Well, Skeppy and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Bad: That's right... We kissed!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: I love you.

Bad, not paying attention: What was that?

Skeppy: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: You’re not jealous, are you?

Bad: No!

Skeppy: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful. 

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy are in Paris.*

Bad: I'm...moved. I...I don't know what it is I'm feeling right now. I feel...destiny?

Skeppy: But...

Bad: I don't know what it is. I feel like... I just never thought I'd see it with my own two eyes. And here it is. It's just there. It's right in front of me, and...

Skeppy: This is what you wanted to see? The bridge from Inception?

Bad: Yeah.

Skeppy: But the Eiffel Tower is behind us, babe.

Bad: Yeah, but this is the bridge FROM INCEPTION.

Skeppy: Okay, alright

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

Skeppy: Hi, I’m ‘things’

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you sure Bad's even gay? They barely even looked at me.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Skeppy: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Bad: But you’re always acting stupid?

Skeppy: ...

Skeppy: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?

Skeppy: Aww-

Bad: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

~~~~~~~

Bad: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found

~~~~~~~

Bad: So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?

Skeppy: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?

Bad: Yes.

Skeppy: I'd sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Bad, to Skeppy: We had a date!

Bad: *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

~~~~~~~~

Bad, at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way. 

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: That was so hot, Bad.

Bad: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Skeppy: I'm so in love with you

~~~~~~~~

Dream: Where's Sapnap, Skeppy, and Bad?

George: They're playing hide and seek.

Dream: Where?

George: I don't think you get how this game works.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Good morning.

Bad: Good morning.

Sapnap: Good morning.

George: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Dream: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS! 

~~~~~~~

Sapnap: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

George: Several traffic violations.

Dream: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Bad: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Quackity: Also, that’s not our car.

~~~~~~~

Sapnap: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire??

Quackity: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

Bad: Why were you microwaving a lemon???

Quackity: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges) but I didn't own any pots.

Karl: Did you burn an orange too? How???

Quackity: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

~~~~~~

Tommy: Is stabbing someone immoral? Techno: Not if they consent to it. Wilbur: Depends who you’re stabbing. Phil: YES?!?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: *Screams*

Wilbur: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Phil: Should we do something?

Techno: No, I want to see who wins.

~~~~~~~

Phil: Wake me up…

Techno: Before you go go!

Wilbur: When September ends…

Tommy: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Techno isn’t answering their phone

Phil: I’ll call

Tommy: Wilbur and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Techno: Hello?

~~~~~~~

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Phil: Shit.

Techno: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

Wilbur: OH MY GOD TOMMY FELL OFF!!!

~~~~~~~

Tommy: ARE YOU-

Wilbur: Fucking.

Tommy: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Wilbur:Fucking.

Tommy: IDIOT!

Techno: …What was that?

Wilbur: Phil banned Tommy from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: *tapping fingers on table*

Techno: *taps fingers back furiously*

Tommy: …What’s going on?

Phil: Morse code. They’re talking.

Wilbur: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … -

Techno: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK! 

~~~~~~~

Tommy: I'm bored.

Techno: Wanna commit first degree murder?

Tommy: Sure!

Phil, hearing them: No- Stop, don't do that! Put that knife down! Put Wilbur down!!

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Oh god, they texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Phil. They're mad at you.

Phil: No, it's Tommy. They're just being grammatically correct!

*meanwhile*

Tommy: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at them.

Techno: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'.

Tommy: I stand by my choice.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Phil, we're hungry!

Techno: Phil! What's for dinner?

Tommy: We're hungry, Phil!

Phil, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams* 

~~~~~~~

Wilbur, writing in a letter: "I'm going to kick.. your... ass."

Wilbur: THERE. Now send it.

Tommy:: Dude, your handwriting is terrible, are you sure you want to-

Wilbur: JUST DO IT!

later

Phil: So what does it say?

Techno, reading the letter: They say they're going to "lick my...."

Phil:

Techno:

Phil: Gross- 

~~~~~~~

Quackity: Karl, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?

Karl: I don’t know, love you, talk to you later

Quackity: Ok, I love you too, I’ll just ask Sapnap.

~~~~~~~

Quackity: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Karl: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Quackity: Yes!

Sapnap: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

~~~~~~~

Quackity: Sapnap and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Karl: *Sighing* What did Sapnap do?

Quackity: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Sapnap: Who wants a steering wheel?

~~~~~~~

Quackity: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Karl: Wasn't Sapnap with you?

Sapnap: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised. 

~~~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl you can’t move in with Quackity. Karl: Why not? Sapnap: Well, um, how are you going to feel when they see you without any makeup? Karl: I’m not wearing makeup right now. Sapnap: Holy crap, you’re beautiful.

~~~~~~~

Sapnap: *is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

Quackity: Like its slips on and off really easily.

Sapnap:

Quackity: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Karl: We know what you meant. 

~~~~~~~

Quackity: I didn't drink that much last night.

Karl: You were flirting with Sapnap.

Quackity: So what? They're my Husband.

Karl: You asked if they were single.

Karl: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

~~~~~~~

Karl: Why doesn’t Sapnap find me sexy when I bite my lip?

Quackity: What do you look like when you bite your lip?

Karl: *bites lip*

Quackity: ...Have you considered biting your bottom lip instead? 

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you trying to seduce me?

Skeppy: Why, are you seducible?

~~~~~~~

Bad: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Skeppy: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Bad: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

Skeppy: Is it working? 

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Relationships should be 50/50. Bad cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty. 

~~~~~~~

Bad: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Skeppy: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

~~~~~~~

Bad: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Skeppy: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything. 

~~~~~~~

Bad: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Skeppy: I wrote you a poem.

Bad, already crying: You did?

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: This date is boring!

Bad: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Skeppy: Then why did you invite me?

Bad: I didn't, I specifically said "don't come with me" then you said " screw you Bad I'll do whatever I want!

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Bad: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Skeppy: Holy moly- 

~~~~~~~

Bad: I owe you one.

Skeppy: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even. 

~~~~~~~~

If this does as well as the others I’ll make another.

[maybankiara]

TELL ME, IS IT WORTH IT?

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: Pope proposes, JJ panics, and now he’s trying to explain why he said no (and why he shouldn’t have done it.)

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: angst with a happy ending, ignore all the typos bc this is entirely unedited (i might edit in the future)

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

It’s really unfair that when someone’s life falls apart, the world itself doesn’t. JJ thinks it should. It should be raining knives, hailing bullets, volcanoes should be exploding and the ground shaking shouldn’t be just his personal experience of reality. 

But it’s not even a moderately hot day. It’s breezy, it’s perfect, and it’s one of the nicest days of the fucking whole year. 

JJ hates it. 

The Chateau has only got John B and Kiara under its roof when he barges in, teeth gripping on the cap of a beer bottle. ‘Don’t ask,’ he states, then drops in the empty space between the two on the couch. His legs find their home on the coffee table and he nearly downs the bottle. Burps. Sighs, dramatically. 

He knows they’re exchanging glances, but he chooses to ignore it. 

Kie’s consoling hand lands on his shoulder. ‘What ha—’

‘Pope asked me to marry him,’ he says, ‘and I said no. And I also said I think it’s never going to happen.’

John B should’ve made a dumb comment. Kie should’ve made a sarcastic remark. But they didn’t, and they won’t, because JJ feels the gravity of the situation weighting down his lungs. (It feels like being torn up inside out, like his heart is chewing on itself out of anger, or sadness, or betrayal. It feels like the moment when your heart skips a beat and you think this is it, this is how I die, except you don’t; except you’re stuck in that moment forever.)

JJ burps. It chips at the silence, but it doesn’t break it. Kie’s hand on his shoulder is frozen and the distance between him and John B seems like an ocean. 

‘Yeah,’ says JJ. ‘I don’t think that was what he expected.’

A sigh comes from Kie, but he doesn’t look. ‘When was this?’

‘About twenty minutes ago. I drove straight here.’

‘Drunk?’ asks John B. 

‘Does it matter? I’m here now. Safe and sound.’ He lets out a dry chuckle before he can stop himself, and shakes his head. ‘Physically, anyway.’

‘You’re not drunk,’ says Kie. It sounds a little like a scoff, so JJ looks at her, but he can’t figure out what her face is saying. Tight lips scream anger, but her eyes are soft as ever, maybe a little concerned. She glances between him and John B with one of her eyebrows slightly raised. ‘He’s a heartbroken idiot, but not drunk.’

‘Ah. Understandable. Should I—’

‘You know what being a heartbroken idiot means.’ Kie pushes herself off the couch and when JJ glances at his other friend, John B’s just as confused as he is. ‘I know a thing or two about getting your heart broken for a dumb reason. You two sort that out, and I’ll make sure Pope’s okay. Let me know when you’ve knocked some sense into him.’

Before either of the boys manage to comprehend her words, she’s out the door. The Kie-shaped void on JJ’s left side feels a little odd, so he pushes himself into that side of the couch. The beer is bitter at the back of his throat; he wishes some music would be playing. 

John B calls his name, so JJ looks at him. He’s giving him the puppy eyes, trying to get him to talk, and it’s because neither of them really know how to start. (Their affection is physical, not verbal. Kie’s the one who’s good at that. Pope is—)

‘Did you panic?’ asks John B. 

JJ shakes his head. ‘Don’t think so. Not until after I’ve said it, anyway.’

‘So what happened?’

There’s a pause, JJ feels his brow furrow, and then: ‘I don’t know.’

‘…you don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘So you panicked.’

‘No, I didn’t, it’s—’ With a sigh, JJ accepts the momentary defeat. He glances over and sees John B’s signature stare full of indecipherable intent, but nothing less than pure kindness. They’ve had their bumps, but they always came out on top. It’s the pogue way. Even if John B wears that stupid bandanna around his neck well into his married life of his late twenties. ‘I knew the answer was no.’

It’s John B’s turn to frown. ‘You’ve thought about it?’

‘No, I just knew. Like you know the ocean is salty.’

‘You know that because you’ve tasted it before,’ counters John B. ‘I doubt you’ve been proposed to before.’

‘I could’ve been!’ 

All John B offers is a long stare yet that is enough. He’s older by only a few months, but he’s also married and didn’t say no to the proposal (granted, it was him proposing to Sarah, but still) and kind of has got his life together. He’s still JJ’s dumb older brother, but he knows something JJ doesn’t. 

‘How did you know you wanted to marry Sarah?’ 

‘Are you reconsidering your answer?’

‘No, I just—’ JJ sighs again and tries to wish another bottle into appearing in his hand. Doesn’t work. Probably for the better. He just leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling, connecting the dots in his mind. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want you to tell me how you knew.’

He hears shuffling, and then feels John B’s feet in his lap. (He’s not going to comment on the boat shoes. There’s been enough deflecting. He’s got to listen, because Pope is threatening to burst into the forefront of his mind any second now.)

John B gives out the deep, heavy sigh that only comes with a slight aah whenever he’s about to tell a story. ‘When we were young, she made everything come alive. Everything looked brighter and clearer, and it was like I could finally breathe with the entirety of my lungs.’

JJ closes his eyes, trying not to gag. ‘Bro. I’m not listening to that.’

‘But that’s how I knew!’ He could just hear the grouch in his friend’s voice and now he’s threading the fine line between laughing and gagging. ‘Seriously, JJ, you asked. I don’t— I don’t know what to say. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.’

‘I am.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re deflecting.’

‘Big word.’

‘See?’ John B scrunches his nose, shaking his head. His thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose. ‘I know you’re confused. And scared. I know you panicked when Pope asked, but I don’t think you understand how horrible is the thing you’ve done.’

‘It’s not like I broke his heart,’ scoffs JJ, but the words are flat and his heart skips another beat. He doesn’t need to look at John B to knows he’s got his head in his hands. ‘C’mon, it’s Pope. He’s tougher than he looks.’

‘Yes, but he proposed, JJ. He asked to spend the rest of his life with you and you said no!’

‘I didn’t say no to that!’ JJ flings himself off the couch and now he’s pacing around the living room of the Chateau, marching circles around the coffee table. His forehead is pulsating; he’s probably having a heart attack. That’d explain a lot. ‘I said no to getting married.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘It is.’

‘It really isn’t, John B,’ he spits out. Christ, he’s getting hot. Is that his blood boiling? ‘Marriage is… It’s taxes. It’s prenups. It’s joint bank accounts, it’s added tension, it’s fucked up. Half of the marriages don’t even last.’

(Pope’s always talked about getting married. When gay marriage was legalised, before they were together, before they were out of the closet, even then he was openly delighted about it. He’s been talking about the two of them getting married for a while now, or at least hinting at it. 

He should’ve expected it. It didn’t come out of the blue. He saw the signs, just ignored them, because… because…)

‘If you’re scared marriage is going to ruin your relationship, JJ, I’ll have you know you’ve already done that yourself.’ 

This is about the point where everything just… It comes crashing down. The world does end the way JJ wanted it to. 

He feels himself growing very, very still, like when he was younger and his father raised a hand. He feels his breath halting in his throat and ears tuning out all sound, repeating John B’s words over and over until the echo became the echo of itself. He could feel the ground opening beneath him despite not moving an inch. 

When gravity drags you down to earth, your rose-tinted glasses shatter like porcelain. 

He sees Pope’s face of shock, then laughter, then embarrassment and betrayal at once, once he’s realised JJ isn’t joking. He sees him get up from his knees, hands shaking as JJ fumbles over his words, unable to find an explanation or an excuse. He feels cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, blood turning to ice in his hands. He sees his mum leaving, his dad’s hand raised; he sees people arguing and JJ wants to cover his ears. He sees himself, alone, alone, alone. 

And he sees Pope turning his back to him. Quietly. He doesn’t even argue back. Just takes the no and i’m sorry, i can’t do this, it’s never going to happen, not like this and doesn’t say a word. Just walks away. 

It’d be easier if he screamed at JJ. At least he’d know how to deal with that. 

Pope’s heartbreak is the quiet kind, the one that doesn’t ask for attention, just the opposite. Usually JJ’s there to hold his hand, to sit by his side until Pope’s ready to talk about it, or be somewhere around, far enough so that Pope deals with things himself, but close enough so that he’s there if he’s needed. He’s never been the reason for the quiet. 

Fire replaces the ice. JJ feels like the sun itself is tearing him open. 

‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Fuck.’ Then raises his eyes until he meets John B’s, blurry and barely visible. ‘I fucked up.’

He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until his knees buckle under his weight and he stumbles to find his footing. John B shoots from the couch and pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him so tight JJ couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. He didn’t. He wanted to be held, even if by a friend. 

He doesn’t sob because the sob gets caught in his throat, too, but he lets out a cough that says all the same. ‘It would’ve been easier if you yelled at me.’

‘I know.’ John B pats his back, letting JJ rest his weight unto him. ‘Pope will understand. That’s why Kie went to talk to him. As long as you realise you’re hurting everyone by being an idiot, you can make it better.’

‘I thought—’ He stops, because his words get fumbled again, and now he’s pressing his eyes into his friend’s shoulder like he’s all he’s got. ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone again.’

‘You’re not going to, okay? Just… Marriage is not all taxes, and you gotta understand that. It’s about knowing that if they get hurt, you’ll be allowed to see them. That you can get a house together, that you can look after each other if something goes wrong. That what you have is there to stay. Think of it as a promise.’

JJ snorts, but he doesn’t let go. ‘I don’t do well with people promising things to me.’

‘Then promise it to yourself,’ counters John B. The way he puts it makes it sound it’s as easy as breathing – JJ wishes he could feel the same. ‘Promise to stay with him. Promise to be around if something bad happens, but if something good happens, too. That’s what marriage is.’

‘I already promised that,’ he says. ‘His future and mine are the same.’

‘Then what’s the problem? Marriage is just making it legal. Making it formal. When what you have is honest and true, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes things better.’

JJ pulls out, feeling confident he can stand on his own two feet. He still feels a little lightheaded, but the thought of Pope possibly thinking that spending the rest of their lives together is the last thing JJ would want… That is the last thing JJ would want. Pope hurting because of him. 

JJ can’t afford to be scared anymore; living a life half-way ready to run is not living. 

He checks his phone; it must’ve chimed at some point because there’s texts from Kie, telling him where she is with Pope. His heart skips another beat, and at this point he thinks he could have enough heartbeats for a whole new person just from the ones he missed. 

He’s not dying today. He’s not dying before he gets to live the future he’s almost ripped out of his own hands. 

When he looks up at John B, he feels the hint of a weary smile on his lips. ‘I think I’ve got a promise to make.’

—

It shouldn’t be a surprise JJ finds them at the Boneyard, yet it’s still quite odd to see the scenario he’s seen a million times – Kie sitting next to the sea with her feet dipped into water as her fingers splash at the waves just about reaching her, and Pope… Pope sitting on the half-dunked log that’s been here forever, with his feet bare but not quite touching the water. His head is hung low and JJ can see the strain in his shoulders even from halfway across the beach; the cap is sitting on his lap, unused, despite the sun high above their heads. 

The sight tugs at his heart and he falters in his step, but John B’s firm hand on his back encourages him forward. JJ gives a slight nod; he’s not giving up on the courage. 

It’s Pope who notices them first and he stiffens even more; JJ sees Kie pat his knee before turning around and waving at them, then saying something to Pope. JJ wishes the wind would carry her words to him – is it encouragement or telling Pope he’s better off without someone who panics and refuses the one thing they’ve always longed for?

‘Don’t.’ John B pats him on the back. ‘I see you doing your dumb thought thing.’

JJ opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that he meant to say, it’s gone forever. All he can do is try and keep his shoulders from slumping and hands from forming fists; he can’t allow himself to be angry at the world, or himself. 

The sand creaks underneath his feet. He hates it in this moment, because it makes him aware of every step he’s got to take to get to Pope, and the steps drag into eternity. 

Pope locks their eyes. JJ tries figuring him out, but he’s too far, and Pope’s too guarded. 

(Not against me, Pope. Please. Not against me.)

When they get there, JJ feels like fainting, but he sets his foot firmly on the ground. He’s not escaping. 

‘Hey,’ greets Kie, and John B returns the greeting. The feuded lovers stay silent, just taking each other in. 

(JJ always wished he could paint. The lines of Pope’s face are shaped as if they were meant to withstand centuries instead of being washed away with age. He wishes he could offer to Pope more than just… himself.

He’s talked about this with Pope before, though. Feeling inferior to his boyfriend was always going to be JJ’s Achilles’ heel, yet he didn’t think it would come to this. He made another promise, ages ago – to try to see himself the way Pope sees him. The way other people see him. 

To believe in himself the way he believes in other people, for once.)

The silence is heavy, but JJ forces himself to not see it that way. Instead, he looks over to Kie, to John B, and says: ‘Can you guys give us a second?’

There’s nods and then they’re off, with nothing between the couple aside from waves crashing into the shore. Pope’s head is hung and shoulders slumped, and he’s sitting on this log with one foot pulled up and resting on it, the other hanging in the water now. JJ’s fingers ache to reach across for his, but he tells himself it’s not the time. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Marriage scares me. I don’t know one that worked out, aside from John B and Sarah. I was raised to be on my own. Marriage means not being alone and that scared me, until I realised that… I haven’t been alone for a while now. The pogues, you… Nobody’s going anywhere. And if marriage is just a way to promise to you that I’m not going anywhere, either, and if it means so much to you, then I say let’s do it. I got scared, but never for a second did a life without you cross my mind. It’s — That’s my nightmare, Pope. Your future and mine are the same. Where you go, I follow. That’s the way things are.’

For a long time, it was JJ trying to come to terms with loving Pope – then it was Pope coming to terms with loving JJ. They’ve always loved each other, in a way, without quite saying it. It has never been the kind of love that is shouted from the rooftops – it’s the helping hand, the whispers of i got this, or you’re not alone in this, or i wish you could see yourself the way i see you. It’s the kind of love that’s etched into the air around them, existing as a part of themselves rather than something external. They’ve grown into it, shaped their lives around it.

It’s always been the beach for them. Their first kiss when they were seventeen, their first fight, their first promise to stick together through thick and thin. Every time something happened, something that mattered, etched itself into the back of JJ’s mind like the sound of his mother’s voice, it was always accompanied by the sound of waves on the shore; by the wind howling over the bay. It was always people chatting in the distance, or some music playing from a half-working speaker. It was always them, in the midst of other people’s lives. 

Pope proposed in their flat. 

When JJ drops to his knees, he doesn’t do his dumb thought thing. He doesn’t even think about it – for once, his gut isn’t telling him to run, but stay. ‘Pope Heyward.’

‘JJ—’

‘Can you let me do this?’ asks JJ. He laughs a little, shakes his head, and tries not to think about how ridiculous this looks. ‘I know I already had a monologue, but I don’t think I got my point across.’

Pope shakes his head, too; he isn’t smiling, but his eyes aren’t as strained anymore. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to—’

‘I want to. I want this, okay? I want you to hear it.’

He can see Pope’s Adam’s apple bob, and he can see his shoulders slump in a relaxed way. The lines around his eyes soften and his lips nearly turn upwards, just a little bit. A little twitch is enough to shoot electricity to JJ’s heart. 

‘Pope, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life saying it to you. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, and my fiancee, if you’ll have me after the shit I pulled today. Husband, then. Father of your children, because I know it’s what you’ve always wanted, and I want it, too. Whatever you’ll be, I’ll be by your side. It’s all I want. No matter what our status is, we’re always Pope and JJ. We’re always just us. And I really haven’t thought out what I’d say next because—’

Pope’s lips crash into JJ’s, his hands grasping at JJ’s face, and world pulls itself together again. When they part their foreheads lean against one another, and he can feel Pope’s breath on his lips, and he feels his hands burning on the small of Pope’s back, and he can breathe and breathe and breathe like his lungs have never worked properly before. 

(He understands John B now. Not like he’d ever admit it to him.)

He lets out a chuckle, and then he’s kissing Pope again – a small, chaste kiss, just to feel the softness of the touch. His fingers grip the back of Pope’s flannel and he’s laughing into the kiss. 

‘You’re an idiot,’ says Pope. ‘I should break up with you.’

‘Can’t. I’m too irresistible.’

‘Shut up. You’re cheesy. That entire speech would put John B to shame.’ 

JJ shakes his head again and then his thumb is tracing the line of Pope’s jaw, eyes transfixed by his lips. He almost lost this. He almost gave up everything out of fear after promising to never doing it again. (He’s making a vow, this time. It holds more weight.) ‘You loved that speech.’

Pope rolls his eyes, in the way that tells JJ he’s right. ‘Kie told me you were freaking out at the Chateau.’

‘I was,’ admits JJ. What’s the point of holding back the truth? ‘I was freaked out of my mind. I thought I’d ruined everything.’

‘You forget how well I know you, JJ. I was hurt, but I knew you would come back. Old you would run, but Kie came and said you’re at the Chateau, and you wouldn’t have gone there if you meant to run.’

‘I couldn’t ever run from you.’

‘You better.’

JJ rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in Pope’s voice, then pulls him in for a hug. It’s not long until Pope buries his face in JJ’s shoulder, and JJ kisses the side of his head. ‘I do want to marry you, if you’ll have me.’

There’s a pause and JJ feels Pope chuckle against his neck, shivering a little. ‘What is it that you said? My future and yours are the same? That better be in your vows, John B.’

‘Shut up.’ JJ feels himself burning, neck up this time, and tries to laugh it off. ‘I get to be cheesy once.’

‘Just save it for the wedding. I’d like to hear it again.’

JJ angles his body so there’s some space between them; he doesn’t hesitate before planting another kiss on Pope’s lips, reveling in the ease of movement. This is what coming home feels like, and if this is what future has in store for him, who is he to complain?

[nnightskiess]

₊° 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧��𝐬. 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟗𝐭𝐡. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

tw: touching without consent

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

Julian opened the door with a cheeky smile, keeping it open for his friends and fellow heretics. His grin widened when lastly Nora and Y/N stepped inside— for the first time ever being able to hold hands while walking into a pub.

Even though Julian was pretty heartless, he still loved his little family just like any proud man would. He held a specific adoration for the two women. Not only did their fearless and ruthless attitude impress him every time again, he also loved the soft side they showed when it was just them and their family. Having seen both sides, made him make a promise to himself— to always protect them, no matter what, even though everyone knew both women were fully capable of that themselves.

“Ladies.” He bowed curtly and closed the door after him when everyone was inside.

“Now let’s have fun!”

Lily gave him a look, but her stern expression broke down because of his grin. Valerie and Beau wandered off to the bar, Julian wrapped his arm around a lost-looking Mary-Louise while Y/N’s eyes warily wandered around the place— this world was still new to her and she wasn’t sure if it would ever start to feel normal.

To say Nora was excited was an understatement. She had learned how use a mobile phone sooner than she had visited a pub in the 21st century and couldn’t wait to cross this off her list too. Her hand safely intertwined with Y/N’s, who looked around to take it all in. All the voices were hard to drown out in her head.

Y/N didn’t know how to feel about the world they were dropped in. In a way, the girl was a perfect mixture of Nora and Mary Lou— she was excited to explore this new version of earth but it also terrified her immensely. Scared of the unknown was a better way to put it. But, with Nora by her side, she was sure it wouldn’t be as scary. Besides, she had gone through scarier stuff before. A pub, filled with oddly dressed people talking about unknown or weird topics with electronic devices in their hands was nothing compared to fighting off fellow vampires or vampire hunters.

A squeeze in her hand interrupted her daydream. 

“-Love?”

“I’m sorry?”

Nora stood in front of her with her usual mischievous smile, holding out her other hand for Y/N to hold. Y/N grabbed it and let her lead her to an empty spot in the far corner.

“You sit your pretty butt down and I’ll get us something to drink.”

“No-”

“No weird 21st century cocktail,” Nora cut her off and rolled her eyes in amusement, “I know.” She whispered teasingly. 

Y/N crossed her arms and let out a puff of air. A few people stood crowded around a pool table, seemingly having fun. Right behind them was someone playing darts. 

Y/N snorted when all of his attempts went over the board— his darts now sticking into the wall. Even though she had never played before, she knew she would do way better. 

With the usual strut in her step, she walked over to the guy. She removed the darts out of the wall, not even looking at him. 

Y/N raised her eyebrows, quietly asking him what he was still doing there, standing in her spot. 

“You’re gonna try?” He seemed surprised and also unimpressed. 

“Can’t be worse than you.”

The guy bit his lip and put a hand through his ruffled dark curls. He watched from next to the woman as she threw dart after dart— most landing around around the bulls-eye. 

“Looks like you lost big time.” Nora teased and appeared next to Y/N, handing her girlfriend a drink before looking at the man. He seemed pissed but smug at the same time, now that two women seemed to want to keep him company. 

“Do you want to give it a go?” 

Nora shook her head and took a sip out of her beer bottle after landing on one of the seats around. She shrugged absentmindedly, “Long pointy things aren’t really my thing.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at the innuendo and handed the guy the darts. 

Nora sat with them for a while, shamelessly watching her girlfriend like a hawk while drinking her beer. God, Y/N looked great in these new type of clothes, no matter how much she had complained about how itchy her jeans were or how stupid it was that there were holes in them. Y/N had barely touched her drink, way too focused on their game of darts and thus also not realising how the guy stood closer to her every time they switched places. But Nora had. Oh, Nora definitely had. But like Lily had said before they left: no funny business, which meant that tearing the guy’s heart out was clearly not an option.  

The man finished his bottle of beer, any reservations he previously had washed away with the alcohol in his system. 

“You’re so fucking hot, look at you go.” 

Nora's lip curled into a sneer, ready to jump in.

“And gay.” Y/N’s reply seemed to fly over his head. 

“I doubt darts is the only thing you’re good at.” The way he said it made Nora’s blood boil.

“I better not have heard that correctly.” She flew up in an instant but the look on Y/N’s face told her she was ready to handle it on her own.

The guy held her lower back as he passed her and walked off into the crowd without another word.

Y/N turned around,

“What a dirty pig.”

“Glad that perverted git is gone.”

Nora immediately rolled her eyes at the look that followed on her girlfriend’s face.

“Nora Hildegard....jealous of a good-for-nothing guy? A guy!”

Y/N gave her a playful shove. Nora was barely jealous, Y/N knew that. They had been together for so long and had literally gone through sickness and health and basically died twice together, only coming out of it stronger. There was no one else for Y/N than Nora, and the heretic knew that all too well. 

“I just get disgusted how he treated you. Are there even normal men nowadays, instead of only pigs?”

“There were pigs back then, too.”

“Sure, but they don’t try to hide it now.” Nora grabbed Y/N’s arm and pulled her closer, planting a quick peck on the girl’s lips. Both girls felt triumph knowing that they could finally kiss in public without being beaten out of the pub. They both grinned when they pulled back, knowing they had thought the same. 

“I’m going to get myself another drink, be right back.”

Y/N turned back around and continued throwing darts, though this time she didn’t do her best, she just wanted to pass the time. After a couple minutes of absentmindedly throwing at the board in front of her, she felt a presence behind her. A hand suddenly grabbed her chin from behind and caught her by surprise. When feeling the presence, she had initially thought it was Nora who had returned, but her scent was far away and these rough hands holding her in place weren’t hers, neither were the chapped lips that were forcefully planted on her neck.

In the surprise of it all, she let out a muffled yelp. His intoxicated mind took this as an invitation to continue, making Y/N freeze every muscle in her body. Shove the damn bloke off, she yelled at herself. She knew she had the strength, but she was so shocked that her brain didn’t know how to send the signals to the rest of her body. 

Over at the bar, Nora had heard her girlfriend’s muffled cry for help thanks to her hearing and immediately filtered out the rest. She didn’t care who saw her use her speed, or who would witness the thing about to happen next. All she cared about was helping Y/N and doing whatever harm popped into her mind to the guy holding her locked.

Nora’s speedy walk caught the attention of all the people around and the hushed whispers immediately reached the rest of the heretics.

Y/N still stood there, limp, shocked, horror in her eyes and in that moment, all Nora saw was red. Her eyes darkened, black veins formed around her eyes and her teeth shone in the dim bar light, serving as a warning. She grabbed the man’s head, who finally realised all eyes were on him. 

Nora squeezed his head and slammed it into the wall next to him in full force within a second. She dropped him and gave him a second to recuperate. He groaned and looked dazed... or maybe he was still drunk? Not effective enough, Nora thought. Her eyes quickly flickered to Y/N’s, seeing her girlfriend nod slowly. She was okay. Well, she wasn’t, but she’d be okay until Nora was done with the guy. 

“Nora! Leave it!”

But she zoned out every voice or rational thought and didn’t hear Lily yell. She tended to do that when it came to Y/N being hurt. The rest of the heretics watched in anticipation, knowing Nora wouldn’t do this if the guy hadn’t deserved it. Some of them even wore smirks.

Nora stood over him, an evil and taunting look on her face. 

“Now, that did not have the desired effect I hoped for. Apparently your head’s not as hollow as I deemed it it to be.” Within a flash, she held him by his neck and made him stand up, squeezing the air out of his lungs. His face turned blue, “This might have.”

Her hand dove into his chest and pulled out his heart. People who had previously watched in confusion and terror, now started screaming, especially when Nora turned around— heart in her hand, blood dripping down her arm, eyes bloodshot and fangs out.

“You fool!” Lily frantically looked around, not knowing where to start damage control.

Nora threw the heart behind her, not caring where it landed. He didn’t need it anymore, anyway. She blinked a few times, going back to normal, before running up to Y/N.

She held the girl’s cheeks and softly examined her before her eyes landed on her girlfriend’s face. The look Nora had sported not even ten seconds ago, the one that had frightened everyone in the bar, completely vanished the moment she held her girlfriend in her arms. Instead, her soft eyes were now filled with worry.

“Are you alright?!”

Y/N kept quiet, ashamed she couldn’t stand up for herself. Nora nodded, knowing very well what Y/N was thinking but couldn’t say. Being together for so many years made it easy to read someone that well. 

She pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her girl’s head close to her chest and planting multiple kisses on her hair. She softly massaged the girl’s scalp. She knew Y/N always responded better to physical contact, which was why Nora used it to calm the girl down most times.

Y/N was safe now, in her arms, and Nora would protect her with her life. In this century and in the next.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

tag list: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

[xjoonchildx]

danger | ksj x reader chapter one: good girl

summary: kim seokjin is a rich asshole. you are an ambitious attorney. smut ensues when he just won’t leave you alone.

pairing: seokjin/reader word count: 8.6K (Part 1 of 2)

rating: 18+

genre: smut | pwp | okay fine, porn with a thin plot | but it’s really thin

warnings:  hate sex, language, terrible ethical decisions, blatant misuse of office furniture

Chapter 01 | 02

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

Are you fucking kidding me? What am I to you? Am I easy to you? Are you playing with me? You are in danger now Why are you testing me? Why are you testing me? Don’t get me twisted

-- BTS, "Danger"

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

“Excuse me, Miss?”

You look up from your phone to the bartender who’s just walked up to you. He’s holding a bottle of champagne. 

“Yes?”

“The gentleman sitting just over there sent this for you.”

Your gaze follows the direction of his nod and immediately your blood warms to a boil.

The man who’s just finished wiping the floor with your ass in court has just sent you a bottle of champagne. Champagne is for celebrating, not for self-medicating after a brutal trial with a shitty outcome. But of course, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? 

You’d spotted the hint of a smile on Kim Seokjin’s lips in the quick moment you’d looked his way.  He was seated at a table -- surrounded by his adoring lackeys -- who were no doubt high-fiving themselves into a frenzy after this afternoon’s verdict. You’d been so busy drowning your sorrows in wine and furiously texting with Nari that you hadn’t even noticed his entire group’s arrival.

The absolute nerve of this man.

“I don’t want it,” you say. “Please send it back.”

The bartender looks flustered for a moment, glancing at Seokjin and then back to you.

“But Miss, this is a very expensive bottle of champagne,” he protests kindly.

“I know that,” you reply quickly, which is bullshit because you don’t know anything about champagne but you’ll be damned if you let this server or Kim Seokjin know that. 

“I still don’t want it.”

“Alright then, I’ll take it back,” he says nervously, clearing his throat. No doubt he’s not looking forward to telling the pompous prick you’ve turned away his selfless gift. “If you’re sure, that is.”

You make certain to give the bartender your warmest smile because you know he is looking. 

“Oh, I’m sure.”

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

Kim Seokjin has never had to think about concepts like student loans and overdue rent. He’s never had to lie awake at night praying for an opportunity to get ahead.

Status and success are his birthright.  

If you had to guess, you’d say those broad shoulders come from weekends spent lugging a bag of golf clubs across manicured greens. Those muscular legs are probably the result of hours of vigorous tennis at his family’s estate.  And the face? Word on the street is that his mother was a beauty queen which fits quite nicely into his rich boy trifecta.  

Truly, you can’t stand the sight of him.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, the worst thing about Kim Seokjin -- the thing that really sets your teeth on edge --  is that he’s a damned good attorney. 

Maybe daddy’s money got him into the best schools, but he clearly paid attention. So instead of spending his days playing polo or drinking manhattans or doing whatever it is obscenely rich people do all day, he spends his days in court litigating circles around some unfortunate opponent.

Just your luck that his last two opponents happen to be you. 

Kim Seokjin has single-handedly put an end to your personal hot streak. You should be celebrating a big win right now but instead you’ve run straight into a brick wall. 

A tall, broad, well-dressed brick wall.

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

“Do you think he’s gay?”

“What?”

“Kim Seokjin, dammit. Are you paying attention to me at all?”

You pull a face when Nari mentions he-who-should-not-be-named. 

“Gay? How the hell should I know?” you grumble, stabbing a fork full of salad with more force than is necessary. 

“I’m just saying. Everyone knows everything about everyone at the courthouse, right? But you never hear about Kim Seokjin hooking up with anyone. Anyone. And I mean, he’s -- you know, gorgeous.”

“I guess,” you say flatly. 

Nari tuts at your unenthusiastic response. Gossip is her specialty and you’re usually game to hear what she’s been able to dig up but just the mention of this man’s name is enough to put you in a mood.  

“Listen, I’d be salty too if I’d lost that case, but that doesn’t change the fact that the man is a four-alarm fire.”

“Two cases,” you correct. “And he’s two-alarm. At best.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Nari laughs.  “Anyway, I picked up something super slinky for Judge Park’s party tomorrow so by then I’ll know one way or another which way he’s batting.”

You roll your eyes. 

“Hope that works out for you. Either way, I really don’t want to talk about Kim Seokjin’s sex life.”

“Okay, fine,” she concedes.  “But what about his professional life? Cause word on the street is that his firm is probably going to make him a partner. Like very soon.”

You chew on that for a moment. 

He’ll probably be the youngest partner in his firm’s history or in any firm’s history, for that matter. It would be the only logical next step in the progression of this man’s obnoxiously charmed life. 

“Good for him,” you grind out, silently willing Nari to drop the subject of the infuriating man entirely. 

She smiles with satisfaction at having dropped a very juicy piece of information, but all you can do is frown into your salad.

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

You’ve been staring at this piece of art for a solid five minutes and at this point you are questioning Judge Park’s sanity. It’s objectively hideous. 

“So you do drink champagne.”

The fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end at the sound of the deep voice that comes from behind. You’ve just lifted a flute of the aforementioned drink to your lips when he sidles up to you. 

“When I’m in the mood,” you say tightly.

The low chuckle you get in response is very, very annoying. 

You catch a glance of Kim Seokjin out of the corner of your eye because you refuse to acknowledge him with your full attention. As expected, he looks perfectly groomed, impeccably dressed, and irritatingly confident.

“So this is...interesting,” Seokjin says, gesturing at the art piece. 

“Interesting,” you repeat. “Yes, well -- it’s definitely that.”

You know you’re sending him every signal that you’d rather be anywhere but here talking to him but he ignores the hostility pouring off of you in waves.

“I’ve been meaning to catch you,” he says, pausing to take a drink from an ornate highball glass. “I think it’s a shame we haven’t had the chance to speak one-on-one yet.”

Oh, please.

“Yes, what a shame,” you reply sweetly. “So glad you’re finally getting the opportunity to take your victory lap in person.”

“Ouch,” he laughs, tone light despite your obvious irritation. “I came in peace. I’ve had the pleasure of facing you in court but not the pleasure of a formal introduction. So I thought I’d make a point to get acquainted with the woman who’s had me up against the ropes in my last two cases.”

You lift an eyebrow at the thin compliment.  

“I have to say,” he smiles, “I’m impressed.”

A flare of indignation ignites inside you at his casual condescension. As if you give a single solitary shit what Kim Seokjin thinks of your litigation skills. 

“Well now that I know I have your stamp of approval,” you say, body rigid, “I can truly go on.”

You hear his faint huff of laughter as he takes another drink.  A few uncomfortable moments pass before he seems to accept your silence as a sign that this conversation is over.  

“Well it was nice to meet you anyway,” he says, and you hate that you can hear a smile in his voice. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”

He leaves you fuming in front of that monstrosity on the wall.

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

“He’s an asshole,” you say when Nari drops a to-go box at your desk.  “I mean, I always knew he would be, but now I know firsthand.  A self-important, super-inflated asshole.”

Nari laughs. “Kim Seokjin, huh? I saw you two talking at the party and wondered what that was all about.”

She drops into the chair on the other side of your desk with her own to-go box.

“For the record, I can’t get a read off of him. And believe me, I tried,” she sighs.  “So what did he say to you?”

“He was so damned patronizing. He told me I ‘had him up against the ropes’ in his last case,” you hiss. “That I’m talented.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” Nari says, and you don’t miss her thick sarcasm. “Acknowledging your skill and whatnot. You’re right -- total jerk.”

You are immediately impatient with her lack of sympathy.

“You weren’t there, Nari.  He wasn’t passing along some heartfelt praise, he was saying ‘close but no cigar.’”

“He’s professionally competitive, girl.  A shark. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Manners, maybe?”

“Ugh, you’re such a baby,” she teases. “I think your sudden success has gone to your head. He’s not about to bend the knee just because you’ve got a great record.”

You narrow your eyes at her.  “No one’s asking him to bend the knee, Nari.”

She smiles.

“Okay, princess, I’m gonna let you believe that. But I will admit that you might be right about the goading thing,” she says. “Last night, Sang Yejun told me Seokjin took over that last case from a junior attorney. Stepped in and snatched it right up and no one thought it was even on his radar.”

Well that catches your attention. 

You’d wondered yourself why the great Kim Seokjin had stooped to take such a minor case. 

“See what I’m saying, Nari? It’s like he’s purposely trying to get under my skin.”

She snorts. 

“Girl you know I love you, but you really need to get a grip. Not everything is about you.”

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

Nari was dead wrong. Apparently everything is about you.

Three days after your cringeworthy exchange at Judge Park’s party, you have the displeasure of seeing Kim Seokjin again. This time, he walks right into one of your open hearings and helps himself to a seat.

Your entire body goes rigid when you spot him. He has nothing to do with this case, his firm isn’t involved in any way and yet here he is, taking time out of his precious day to sit in your hearing. You silently simmer over his unwelcome presence and the anxiety that comes with it.

Just what is he playing at?

Your second chair elbows you.

“You ready?” he asks and you nod.  

You take one last look at your notes and will yourself to focus.  The last thing you want to do is screw up this line of questioning and you certainly don’t want to screw it up in front of him.

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

You assume the coast is clear when court adjourns and everyone scatters. You look around for any sign of Seokjin while packing up your files and come up empty. You hate to acknowledge the tiny feeling of relief that blossoms inside at that observation.

That feeling of relief doesn’t last long. 

As soon as you round the corner into the hallway you spot him leaned up against the wall, scrolling through his phone as you walk past. You stride quickly, praying he won’t look up in time to see you but no such luck.

“Hey,” he calls after you.  You grit your teeth.  

There’s certainly no way to avoid speaking to him, not without causing a scene.  The hallway is packed with attorneys and paralegals from firms all over the city. You’d hate to give any of them the impression that this man has rattled you.

You stop and round on him.

“How can I help you today, Mr. Kim?”  

He smiles, refusing to be intimidated by your acid tone.

“I got a chance to sit in on your hearing,” he says, as though you didn’t already know that.  ”Not bad.”

You are in uncharted waters right now. If Kim Seokjin was just another asshole in a bar, you’d throw your drink in his face and leave him sputtering.  But he’s a respected colleague and you can’t make a scene -- not here. You’re still trying to figure out how to respond to that gem when he makes another observation. 

“You did miss an opportunity to pin your witness on that last question, though.”

You catch your jaw before it has a chance to drop.

“I thought you were going to go for the jugular for a minute there,” he says, lips pursing to suppress a smile. “But then you backed off.  It surprised me.”

He’s baiting you. And you know he’s baiting you. And you still can’t stop yourself from reacting.

“So are you billing me for these hours or do I get to enjoy all this unsolicited legal advice for free?”

“For you?” He shrugs casually. “Totally free.”

He slips his hands into his pockets and turns to walk away, but you are the one to stop him this time.

“Why?” you call after him.  

He turns back to face you. 

“Why do you care? Why are you here grading me like this is some kind of performance review?” you ask, unable to keep the astonishment out of your voice.

The slow smile that spreads across his face is downright smackable. 

“It’s my job to keep an eye on talent.  Even if the talent is overly confident, bad at taking direction, and just a little…” he stops for a moment to appreciate the look of absolute outrage on your face, “...bratty.”

“Bratty,” you repeat numbly. 

“Bratty,” he confirms. 

He shoots you a wide smile before sauntering away.

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

“He said you were…” Nari pauses for effect. “Bratty.”

“Yes.”

You wait through a full thirty seconds of Nari’s laughter before you interrupt.

“You --” you say, pointing an accusing finger at her, “are supposed to be my friend.”

“Oh, I am your friend, sweetheart,” she says, chuckling between words. “And as your friend I have to tell you that’s the most accurate take a man has had on you in a minute.”

You ball up a piece of paper on your desk and throw it at her.

“Seriously,” she says, breathless from laughter. “That is the funniest shit I’ve heard in a while.”

“Glad you think so,” you mutter.

Nari finally manages to collect herself after a moment.

“Okay, so Kim Seokjin thinks you’re bratty. And he’s definitely toying with you. And it’s working. So what are you gonna do about it?” she asks.

You say nothing for a moment. This is the internal debate you’ve been having since your embarrassing little encounter the other day.

“I’m gonna tell him to go fuck himself,” you say, finally.  “Whatever little game he’s playing — I’m done.”

Nari’s sly smile around a fork full of noodles indicates she can’t wait for the gossip that will no doubt come out of this showdown.

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

You have to wait for the right opportunity to confront Kim Seokjin.

You’ve crossed paths with one another a few times in the courthouse in the past few days, but the last thing you want to do is have this conversation in front of the prying eyes and sharp ears that always mill about the halls.

So you stew in your anger and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

The moment comes when you spot a box of files in the lobby of your office, with a large note right on top.

ATTN: Kim Seokjin

Lee & Kang Law Firm

“What is this?” you ask the receptionist, pointing at the box.

“That’s a load of files that has to go over to Lee and Kang.  I’m having them delivered,” she replies.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say quickly.  You check your watch.  It’s end of business already, but you’re certain he’s still at his office.  He’s far too ambitious to be the type to pack it in early.

You pull out your phone and shoot a quick text to Nari. Her response is immediate.

you: going to give seokjin a piece of my mind tonight [ 5:49 PM ]

nari: i expect nothing less than a detailed play-by-play [ 5:50 PM ]

The receptionist quirks an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to get off your phone.

“You don’t want me to call for delivery, then?”

“No,” you smile. “I’ll be happy to hand-deliver them myself.”

She shrugs.  “Suit yourself.”

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

The offices of Lee and Kang are opulent. 

Marble and glass and shining fixtures all paid for by hours of top-dollar billing.  It’s one of the best firms in town and they clearly spared no expense in decorating the massive space.

When you walk through the heavy glass doors in the lobby there is no receptionist on duty. The main lights are down, leaving only accent lights and the glow coming from a few open offices. 

You spot one lone woman still working at her desk in the common area. 

“Kim Seokjin?” you ask, as you carry the box past her desk.

For a moment, it looks like she is going to ask you who you are -- because clearly you’re not a deliveryman -- but she sees the note taped to your box and points you in the right direction.

A corner office.  

Of course the pampered asshole would already have a corner office. 

You take a deep breath before knocking and immediately you hear Seokjin’s deep voice responding to invite you in.

The first thing that strikes you when you open his office door is that he does not seem surprised to see you. 

At all.

The man’s beautiful, infuriating face stays entirely neutral as he looks up from the papers on his desk. His total lack of a reaction is unnerving.

The second thing you spot are the massive windows. Seokjin certainly gets to enjoy the perks of his high-status, high-rise office because the backdrop to his workspace is stunning.  The sun has already set and the city is lit up behind him, a stark contrast to the night sky.

The last thing that you notice is that his office is a mess. You’d expect someone as anal-retentive as Kim Seokjin to be a neat freak, but there are boxes and papers all over the floors and even his pictures and degrees are leaning against the walls instead of hanging on them.

“Doing some redecorating?” you ask finally, when he does absolutely nothing to end the awkward silence.

“Something like that,” he answers smoothly.  

“We owe you these documents,” you say, motioning to the box.  You drop it unceremoniously on the floor in front of his desk.

He stares at it for a moment before finally deciding to speak.  

“You --” he starts, “ -- hand-delivered a box of documents to my office? Can your firm not afford couriers anymore? You guys going out of business?”

“That’s a lot of questions at once, Mr. Kim,” you fire back. “Have I walked into a deposition? Am I being videotaped?” 

“Would you like to be videotaped?” he counters evenly.

You search his face for any hint of humor -- any indication of teasing --  and come up empty. The look on his face suggests he’s just asked a serious question that deserves a serious answer.

Alarm bells begin to sound in your head.  

“You seem to be at a loss for words tonight,” he says, finally. “Which from what I gather is a bit unlike you.  So I’ll ask you again, what is a gifted attorney doing playing errand girl with a box of files?”

You stand silent, irritated at your sudden inability to string a simple sentence together.  Moments ago you’d walked in here ready for a confrontation, ready to read this man the riot act.  In a matter of seconds your momentum has died. You can almost feel the power shift in the air. 

“I -- “ you start and falter.  

Seokjin raises one perfect eyebrow.

“I am not bratty,” you say finally, lamely, and it’s laughable because it sounds exactly like something a brat would say.

“Not bratty,“ Seokjin repeats dryly. “Noted. Anything else?”

“Don’t do that,” you hiss. “That dismissive thing you’re doing right now.  I don’t know who you think you think you are, or who you think I am -- but you are all wrong about me.”

He stands up from behind his desk, long fingers moving to loosen the tie around his neck and somehow the simple act comes across as painfully intimate.  You very nearly look away.

“All wrong.”

“Yes,” you repeat firmly.

“Oh, I somehow doubt that,” he demurs, moving slowly around his desk to step closer.  Not once does he take his eyes off of you. 

A flutter of panic spreads across your chest.

“Just...leave me out of whatever game you are playing, Mr. Kim,” you say, the words spilling out in one nervous breath as you turn to make for the entrance of his office. You register the sound of his footsteps but don’t realize he’s made up the distance between you until it’s too late.  He reaches past you to push the door closed.

It slams shut with a heavy thud and for a second all you can do is stare at it.

Slowly you turn to face him.  

“What do you want from me?” you say after a moment, breathing a bit harder than you’d like. Your tongue slips out to wet your lips, a nervous gesture that his eyes follow with keen interest.

“You,” he begins slowly, “are in my office. You came to me.”

He’s crowding you with his body, guiding you both so incrementally you barely register movement until the door is nearly flush against your back. 

“So why don’t you tell me what you want?” 

You stare back at him dumbly.

What you want at this moment is to find the choice words that will take him down a peg. You’d love nothing more than to deliver some scathing, elegant takedown but you fail to find the words. You fail to find any words, in fact.

“You are obstinate,” he whispers, so dangerously close you can smell his aftershave. “Haughty. Smug.”

Your mouth falls open in silent protest.

“And clearly in need of a firm hand.”

Heat floods your cheeks. 

It’s embarrassing, being spoken to like this. It’s humiliating to have Kim Seokjin of all people dress you down in this way . But the most mortifying thing about this bizarre exchange is the way your body warms immediately, blood humming in response to his words. 

“Fuck you, Seokjin,” you whisper back, but the words come out thin and weak.

He leans forward, bracing his palms on either side of the door -- on either side of you, dipping his head low to bring his gaze level with yours. 

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” 

He doesn’t wait for you to answer. 

“Ask me for it. Better yet --” he leans close to whisper in your ear, “Beg me for it.”

He hasn’t touched you but that doesn’t stop the pang of arousal set off by his words from hitting you like a slap. The sensation that starts at the apex of your thighs spreads into your legs and across your arms, into your fingers like a current. 

Seokjin continues speaking in that same even, unsettling tone.

“Go ahead.  I’ll wait.”

He is too close, too warm, too aggravating, too tempting.  You have to shut your eyes for a moment to block him out and give your brain a moment to catch up. No one has ever spoken to you this way, and this -- your body’s immediate, damning reaction to it -- is something new.  

Something scary.

You’re certain he can see it all over you, the beads of sweat at your temples, the high color in your cheeks. Nari was right — Seokjin is a shark — and he’s looking at you right now like he smells blood in the water. 

You stare back at him, conflicted and incensed and aroused beyond belief. 

“I’m leaving,” you say finally, voice brittle.

He gives you one long look before reaching behind you for the handle to the door.  He pulls it open and waits for you to walk through, but you just stand there for a moment, dazed.

“Get home safe,” he murmurs.

You nearly scream.  He’s maddening like this, in complete control while you feel ready to fall apart at the slightest provocation.  You look from him to the door and back to him.  

You know you have to make a decision. You can walk out that door on trembling legs with your entire body on fire or you can swallow your pride and submit to the most infuriating man you have ever met.  

He quirks that eyebrow again.

“Wait,” you say after a long, tense moment.

“For what?”

“Do it,” you whisper, barely meeting his gaze.

“Do what?”

You want to slap him for feigning ignorance but instead take a deep breath in and out before speaking again.

“Fuck me,” you say quietly into the narrow space between your bodies.

For the first time tonight you see a tell --  a tiny giveaway that Seokjin is as affected as you are by this charged encounter. The look of heat that flickers in his eyes is hypnotic. He shuts the door again and rubs his fingers across his lips before speaking.

“Fuck me, what?” 

You grit your teeth -- irritated with him, irritated with yourself for being in this position.  For not telling him off and leaving with your head held high. Your feet feel rooted to the floor.

“You are an asshole,” you whisper tersely.

“I am,” he admits in that infuriating placid tone.  “And I’m still waiting to hear you say it.”

You take a deep breath, then swallow the taste of humiliation that makes your tongue feel heavy and thick.

“Fuck me, please.”

It’s damned near painful to choke out those words and the second they escape you expect him to gloat. You expect him to dangle your submission over your head, to weaponize it and use it against you.  What you do not expect is the eerie calm when he reaches behind you again to cut the lights to his office.  

His voice is low when he leans close to your ear.

“Good girl.”

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

[alittlebitgoofy]

if i had my way i would be yours (taywhora) - chapter one

Everyone always said how stupid it was to crush on straight people. A'whora had rolled her eyes, wondering how that could even happen to someone. Then she met Tayce.

Unless Tayce isn't quite as aware of her own feelings as she seems, and there's something going on. But she was straight, she always had been, why would it change?

ao3 link

“Men are so shit, why do I even try?” Tayce grumbled, door flying open as she stormed in, landing on the sofa with a huff. A’whora frowned at the look on her face; she knew it well, the guy Tayce had been seeing gave her a bad feeling from the start. She kept her mouth shut at first, knowing how excited she was to go out on more dates with someone. She also didn’t want to deal with the “you hate all of my dates” rant. 

She did hate all of Tayce’s dates, the girl had bad taste in men. 

Or maybe it was down to the fact it wasn’t her. 

She hesitantly walked over, poking Tayce’s shoulder to gauge her reaction and the best response for it. Or at least she planned to, before Tayce grabbed her, pulling her next to her and burrowing her head into her shoulder with a groan. 

“I hate men. What the fuck did I do to only date these fuck boys, Is no guy I'm ever interested in decent?” 

“Do you want an actual response or some comfort?” 

Tayce hummed, mulling it over. She was pissed, the frustration was palpable. Though something about how her roommate's words drew her in. She knew deep down whatever A’whora would say was right, the girl was observant, possibly too so. It made her anxiety worsen on her bad days, but it made her the best option for an unbiased opinion.

“Both?” Tayce replied tentatively, uncomfortable with the insinuation of vulnerability. 

“Because your taste in men is the worst of anyone I’ve ever known.” “And the comfort part?” She stifled a laugh, blunt as ever. She’d expected something like that, but the deadpan way A’whora said it never failed to make her crack a smile. “You’re too good for average men, too pretty, too smart, too funny. You’re a catch but the people you go after are too stupid to see that.” A’whora wished she could hide her emotions better, knowing her expression had morphed to a hopelessly soft smile, staring at Tayce like she was everything that would ever matter to her. Tayce futilely tried to hide the blush forming at the parise. Her confidence lifted, knowing how much her friend meant the words. She saw the hesitation as A’whora realised what she’d said and how she said it. It was adorable how she would blurt out something soft then process it after. 

The blonde felt her insides melt as Tayce pulled her into a tight hug, she could feel the warmth that always radiated from her body. It was odd how affectionate Tayce could be; she’d scare anyone else who tried to touch her, glaring with a ferocity that made even A’whora take a step back to give her space. 

But it was different between the two of them. 

Tayce had no problems pulling her into her arms when she wanted attention, or flopping right into her when she felt like it. A’whora would huff, weakly attempt to push her off before leaning into it. Was it normal for two close friends to be affectionate with each other? Absolutely.

Did it make her heart sting any less when Tayce would go on, dating men and being clearly straight? Fuck no. 

They were besties, that’s what she always said. They’d been attached at the hip since 18, meeting at uni and being inseparable. A few drunk makeouts had lead A’whora to wonder if Tayce wasn’t as straight as she insisted, but her lack of interest when there was clearly something between them told her everything she needed to know.

Why the fuck did she have to crush on a straight girl?

Tayce continued to hold her, anger visibly dissipating from her face as A’whora let her get out all of her pent up affection. 

“You’re such a softie.” Though she meant it as a light taunt, Tayce’s tone came out sweetly fond; as if A’whora was the only person in the world who deserved her affections.

“If only I could meet a guy half as good as you, then it’d be a bit easier.” Tayce spoke quieter, as if she was trying to not let anyone hear it despite them being the only people in the room. A’whora was better than anyone she’d ever met. It wasn’t a very fair comparison. No one had the same disgusting sense of humour, wouldn’t put up with Tayce’s constant baked beans every morning or deal well with her energy. Getting along with her was effortless, they could talk and laugh about nothing for hours without even realising it. “So I’m better than any guy?” A’whora teased, a grin quickly taking over her face

The smug look on A’whora’s face was infuriating. She’d never breathe word of this to anyone, but it was something Tayce loved to see. 

“That’s not what I said, you cocky slag, let me be soft.” Tayce shoved the blonde into the sofa lightly, snickering as she fell back. “You’re gonna make someone really lucky one day, Tayce.” A’whora gave a sincere smile, melting away any of the cockiness. 

“And you are going to make one lady very lucky Aurora, just don’t let her get in the way of our bestie hugs.” “No one ever could.” 

A’whora leant more into Tayce after she spoke, too distracted by the warmth of her friend to ponder her actually getting a girlfriend. Deep down she knew no girl would ever compare to the impossibly high standard that was Tayce. She couldn’t help but put her dates up against her as a standard. Tayce was so bright, had such good energy, could always make her laugh after a bad day, A’whora couldn’t settle for anyone less. 

“So, what happened today?” “I mentioned my roommate was a lesbian and he started saying how that should make me uncomfortable, that you could start trying to make me sleep with you, and how you weren’t to be trusted, so I told him to fuck off and stormed out.” The anger was radiating off of Tayce as she recounted the story, remembering the sheer audacity of a man thinking he was right in his bigotry, that she would agree with him. The longer she thought about it the more her blood boiled. How could people like that freely walk around spouting hate, and act like she was the bad one for being appalled by it? “Be careful, I might spread my gay to you.” A’whora joked, putting her hand in Tayce’s face only for her to swat it away with an exaggerated gasp. “Wouldn’t you have done that already by now?” Tayce pondered, the amount of time they spent together would allow it. If she really had magical lesbian turning skills. “I’m not yet at full power, be scared.” “Oh, I’m frightened of your lesbian powers.” “Next thing you know, you’ll be in only leather jackets and flannels and cut your nails super short.” A’whora tugged at Tayce’s shirt for emphasis, erupting into giggles as she gasped and gave an over exaggerated tut at the action. “Why would you need—” Tayce trailed off, contemplating the question before realising the suggestion. “You filthy hound, get your mind out of the gutter.” “You’re just as bad as me!” A’whora whined, pouting at the accusation no matter how true she knew it to be. “Maybe so, who’s to know.” “Me! Disgusting hound! I know what you’ve gotten up to you can’t call me out for shit.” She gestured to Tayce’s room, grimacing at the implications of what she’d been getting up to with guys. 

Tayce froze. She knew that there was a good chance A’whora had heard something through the walls, but her carelessly admitting it like it was a casual thing sent her through a loop. Her ease of talking about sexual things never failed to startle Tayce, no matter how used to it she should be. “Touché, these walls are thin, aren’t they?” 

Tayce played it off with a laugh, not wanting A’whora to realise her mental stumbling. She didn’t have to know her true feelings, they were better left hidden.

“They are, and it was mortifying.”

---

Tayce was trying not to think about things. It didn’t work out to be the best coping strategy, but the thoughts were too much for her to deal with.

So she didn’t. 

Until she couldn’t stop. 

She wasn’t affected by another shitty date, men were bad. It didn’t bother her, though it sure managed to eat at the small self worth she’d spent too much time trying to slowly cultivate back after her last relationship. 

It fell apart with another failed attempt. It felt pointless. Was she even worth it? She tried to ignore the growing sadness until it took her over. 

She didn’t notice she was crying until she saw tears land on her jeans. It didn’t take long for her to get overwhelmed by it all. Collapsing into a heap, trying desperately to keep quiet and not attract attention. 

“Tayce?” 

The only response she got from the brunette was a groan, burrowing her head into her arms. A’whora cautiously walked closer, laying a hand on her shoulder, only to feel Tayce tense up under her and throw her hand off. She took the cue; she wasn’t in the mood to talk, wanting to be alone instead. 

A’whora started to walk away before Tayce moved again, grabbing her by the wrist to pull her down next to her. 

The blonde tried again, slowly putting her hand onto Tayce’s shoulder. She didn't flinch away this time, staying dead still—it was about then when A’whora noticed her shaking breaths. It was subtle, clearly attempting to hide her emotions. They stayed in that state for a while, Tayce not calmed enough to attempt talking but not wanting A’whora to leave either.

Eventually someone moved, A’whora shuffled down, laying herself next to Tayce to wrap an arm around her back. Tayce let out a small sigh, shuffling ever so slightly closer to her friend. She felt A’whora’s thumb starting to stroke her shoulder blade. Soundlessly showing her support. 

“You want me to talk?” Tayce grumbled, lifting her head to speak before promptly shoving it back into her duvet. “It’s up to you, do what you feel comfortable doing.” “It’s stupid.” “If it’s upsetting you it’s not stupid.” “It shouldn’t upset me, I'm better than this.” A’whora could hear the eye roll in her voice, Tayce was a master at sending mixed signals. She clearly wanted her around and was upset but didn’t want to admit it. 

“I just…” Tayce trailed off, finally rolling over to face A’whora. “I feel like I’m never going to find love, you know? Like none of this is worth it. It just makes me feel a bit worthless, am I not pretty enough? Why can’t I meet the right person?” Tayce sighed, her arm moving to mirror the wrap A’whora had around her back. “Tayce, you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met please don’t doubt yourself. It feels like you’re not good enough but I think it’s the opposite. You’re too good and it’s going to take someone special to actually deserve you.” She saw Tayce’s face shift, from neutral to disbelief to something softer. As if she believed what A’whora was saying with her whole heart. 

“You really think so?” The vulnerability that slipped out of Tayce then took A’whora aback. This wasn’t the usual tayce, the one who would always ask “Who, me? Like this?” when A’whora complimented her. This reaction was so much rawer. 

“Yeah, you know I’d never lie to you. I can’t tell someone they look good when they don’t, but you always do.” Tayce nodded slowly, not trusting herself to let out a verbal response just then. She was too soft, her guard all the way down for the one person who she trusted with it. She closed the distance between her and A’whora, pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re such a softie.” She laughed, feeling A’whora shove her before letting out a snicker. 

Tayce couldn’t say it, but that was her favourite thing about A’whora. How easy it was for her to be vulnerable and show a more emotional compassionate side at the drop of the hat. If it were anyone else, she’d envy them in secrecy—but with her roommate? She longed to ask her how to do it. How to let go and be open with someone she trusted. It just couldn’t come out, no matter how hard she tried. 

“You just had to ruin the moment didn’t you. You’re such an ass.” A’whora didn’t attempt to hide the fondness in her words, knowing it was what Tayce needed and wanted to hear. She wasn’t ready to be fully vulnerable but she’d tried to let her in as best she could. Patience was one thing she had in excess, no matter what she’d wait for Tayce to be ready. 

She’d always be waiting, forever ready to do anything for Tayce, no matter how much it hurt. 

[honey-hippie-harper]

through the burning shell

Hello it’s been 84 years.

This is fun :): I wrote this as a Christmas present for @obsidianfr3sk (YES DAWNIE KEEP POSTING YOU CHRISTMAS FICS DURING MARCH. YOU GO GIRL) and it’s a sequel to my other fic “through the bleeding shell” where I basically try to save Simon and Hugh from the queerbaiting MM turned them into by adding a certain degree of complexity to their relationship. This is a story about gays, grief and a dead friend + Simon defending Nova bc I don’t roll with Supernova. Hence, I am not morally obligated to obey canon <3

Anyway afgdhjafghsj i don’t think you need to read the first part to understand this, and I hope you like it <3. I don’t want to give much away, but this sort of turned into a collaboration that got out of control and @obsidianfr3sk might write a third part in the future ;)

through the burning shell

“There have been rumors that the public revealing of Agent N is to include a public execution as well.”

Being all together, right there, Simon saw Hugh narrowing his eyes, staring directly at Genissa Clark, formerly Frostbite, now neutralized, along with the rest of her team.

Well.

Almost all of them.

“That’s true.” Hugh started, and Simon couldn’t help but think he shouldn’t have answered. A part of him was getting a pretty bad feeling from this. “For his crimes against humanity, Ace Anarchy has been sentenced to death.”

“Why stop there?” Said Genissa. “I would argue that his accomplices deserve the same fate.”

The same fate.

His brain struggled to make a connection between that sentence and the one Hugh had uttered. At first, he didn’t understand. A couple of fast seconds later, Simon realized that, by saying “fate”, she was referencing something.

She was referencing, more specifically, Ace Anarchy’s sentence.

A death sentence.

Accomplices.

The Anarchists.

“Nightmare deserves the same fate.” Nova deserves the same fate. “Nightmare must die… And I want to be the one to do it.”

Nova must die.

And I want to be the one to do it.

A child killing another child, publicly, with the Renegades’ permission.

A child they had taken under their wing, Genissa Clark that is, killing another child, who had been in Simon’s house, who had touched Adrian’s heart, and who had made bad choices but was still a person. The official version of the events said she had stabbed Max, and Danna claimed she was Nightmare, but they hadn’t taken any declarations or anything, so that story might as well just change.

Simon couldn’t help but feel she didn’t deserve to die.

Maybe because she actually didn’t. It didn’t feel fair.

One thing was sentencing Ace Anarchy, the man who had lifted an entire city, leaving a ridiculously huge number of deaths in the process, who had stolen, broken and burned, who had killed a man (the mayor) and his pregnant wife, who had killed his own brother, sister-in-law and possibly his two nieces...and another, pretty different thing was to allow this 19 year old girl kill a 16 year old one, who had some crimes that could put her into jail for like 3 or 5 years, but weren’t horrible enough to give her a death sentence. She was a minor. She wasn’t yet beyond repair…

And if she was to be executed, then she was still a minor. She didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that. She didn’t deserve her life to be taken away with so little dignity.

Not by Genissa Clark.

Not like that.

And, stars, please, not now.

Not right now.

It was unthinkable, it was barbaric, it was animal, it was almost as if…

A quiet chuckle.

A quiet chuckle that, suddenly, interrupted his train of thought and, with all the pain in his heart, he was able to recognize in a blink.

Evander was chuckling.

Genissa Clark, nonchalantly, was blackmailing them. She was trading her silence for the legal permission to kill someone, in front of a crowded arena. And Evander was chuckling.

Genissa Clark wanted to murder Nova, and Evander was chuckling.

“Is that all it will take to quit their complaining?”

What else did he want?

“Works for me.”

Simon almost flinched to the audacity. To the severity of the implication. To the way he was saying it. So smug. So relaxed, so….Evander it almost made Simon mad.

That was so Evander lately.

Because, lately, Evander didn’t understand anything. Not even because he had a pregnant wife waiting for him at home. There was life inside that woman. Life that had come from him.

How couldn’t he understand?

How could somebody be so cold?

“These are lives we’re discussing.” Simon reminded him, shooting a look in his direction.

“Villains’ lives.” Evander responded. “Nightmare doesn’t deserve mercy any more than Ace Anarchy does. She was the one who neutralized them, so it seems fair to me.”

Villains’ lives were still lives.

Nova was a person.

Nova was...Nightmare, but before Nightmare, she was Nova, and Hugh and him had met her personally. Adrian had met her personally.

And, besides, with this logic, then all the Renegades were to be executed.

After all, Agent N was meant to be used by Renegades. They were the ones who were planning to neutralize people when they felt threatened. But when Nightmare did it, then she immediately deserved the death penalty.

Hugh would understand that. Everyone would understand that, just like Simon did.

They had to understand it.

Hugh had to understand it.

-.-

Yet, he didn’t.

Some time ago, Hugh had pledged to understand. Not directly per se, but he had pledged it in the name of his cause.

He promised he would understand.

And then, when he needed to understand the most, he didn’t.

He said he would.

Then he fucking didn’t.

“How can we run a city, much less an entire world, if we’re busy dealing with every trivial bit of bureaucratic nonsense that comes up?” He said.

“This solves two problems at once.” He said.

And he said that to Adrian’s, their son, face. Their son, who was just trying to help, by questioning how morally correct was to do something like that, just like Tamaya, Kasumi and himself had done, being ignored in the process.

“We need that right now. And we need to be united in this decision.”

“And why’s that, exactly?” Adrian asked. “Do we not want the world to know this is actually a dictatorship?”

In that moment, Simon knew Adrian had never spoken to Hugh like that. He had always been a pretty calm kid, who liked to question their decisions sometimes because, as a Renegade himself, of course he would feel uncomfortable or have doubts sometimes. But never had he called Hugh out. Not in that tone. Not with that entire bottle of venom flowing out of his mouth, melting his teeth, and mixing with his boiling blood.

Simon felt unable to tell him to stop, after his own voice had been ignored, and Hugh pretended Evander was the only one who mattered in the team. And it wasn’t that Evander didn’t matter.

It was just that he was wrong.

Besides, harsh as that sounded, Simon still couldn’t believe that those stinky, rotting, putrid, nauseating words had come from Hugh’s mouth. His Hugh. The man he had decided to marry, because he loved him so, so much, for him had been able to see him even when he was invisible. Literally.

Right in front of his eyes, Hugh morphed into a caricaturesque villain. His hands, which Simon had held so many times, were suddenly covered in both dry and fresh blood, red as an apple, but smelling like death.

Death.

The same death that was living like a parasite inside of his eyes, the only place that other people could harm. And the parasite was traveling through his system, all the way to his brain, spinning it around like a mirrorball, and eating from it like he was nothing.

Hugh’s hands were tied, too, and the strings were made of rope, a material he could easily tear apart, but seemed to have forgotten about that.

He was like a puppet, as the press, as society, and as tons and tons of eyes pulled from the ropes.

And nobody knew how to free him, not even himself.

“Do we not want the world to know this is actually a dictatorship?”

Adrian’s voice haunted him for days. The way in which he said that haunted him for days, and after a while, Simon just accepted he wouldn’t be able to get rid of it. It had become another one of the wounds he carried, open and bleeding, through life. The worst part of it all, was that Simon knew Adrian was right. That, at this point, everyone but Hugh, Evander and Genissa Clark were right.

But if he knew where had they gone wrong, and if he knew he didn’t agree with this monstrosity...why did it hurt so much?

How did you speak to a person who didn’t want to listen?

And, most importantly: Where were you supposed to get the courage to do it from?

 -.-

 Nova had spent seventeen days in Cragmoor Penitentiary when Adrian said he wanted to see her. He had been so mad at her, that it caught Simon off guard.

Not that he wasn’t able to understand it.

Adrian had had a couple of girlfriends and boyfriends throughout his life but, from what Simon could see, Nova was by far the one he had been the most serious about, to the point it almost seemed she was the one who would stay. Simon would’ve wanted to see his partner too, no matter how mad he was at said partner, if he knew they had been sentenced to death.

As fast as they could, knowing they were facing an authority (Adrian had asked them to be with him in the room), the wardens brought her right away, in a matter of minutes.

Through the glass, Simon saw her, on the metal platform, with her arms and legs being held, tightly, by braces, which were equally made of metal. For the look in her eye, Simon could almost hear her desperate begs for her visitor not to be Adrian. Yet, he had been, and he wasn’t alone, which, if anything, only made it worse.

Simon, from his part, was staring at two different glasses at the time. The one that divided them from Nova, and Adrian’s glasses, which revealed the pain he was penetrating Nova’s soul with, and also the rage he was entitled to feel.

But Nova looked small.

She, in fact, looked as small as she actually was.

She was almost a kid. She hadn’t yet started living. Yet, she was locked up here, and would only be taken out to be killed.

Nova’s body was shaking, just like Adrian’s. Her chin was quivering so much it almost seemed like she was cold, and Simon felt a twinge in his stomach. He felt nauseous and dizzy. And so evil and so guilty.

For some reason, he pictured a child, because Nova had been a younger child once, full of joy and innocence.

 He pictured a child. Just like that.

 Maybe she was wearing pigtails, had a gap between two of her teeth, and bruised legs, because she liked to play outside with her friends. Maybe, before she became Nightmare, she had something else to hold on to. Maybe she, like many people out there,  had hoped for the Renegades to come, and when they didn’t do it, something became numb, and cold, and she started freezing to death, just like she would remain freezing, suspended in History, as the interrupted life who was the proof the Renegades had become the one thing they promised they would never be.

And Simon didn’t want to be part of that, yet he was still here.

He was still here, thinking about how fortunate he was that Nova wasn’t staring back at him, but at Adrian instead, as selfish as that might’ve sounded.

Simon felt he had lost the right to look her in the eye, having been the one who promised her, on several occasions, that she could look into theirs.

With each one of his limbs becoming tense, Simon took a deep breath. His mouth tasted like bile, and his whole body was pounding along with this heart. It felt like one of those times when you were almost a hundred percent sure you were having a heart attack, despite knowing that, if that was the case, you would already be on the floor crying for help.

Next thing he felt was the sudden and strong urge to speak.

He would’ve liked to talk to Nova, but through this glass, she couldn’t hear anything.

Besides, Simon knew that this moment wasn’t about him, or Hugh. They were involved in it. They were carrying it in their backs like a cross, but it wasn’t about them. It was about Nova and Adrian. There was glass between the two. They could press their hands together through it, but they couldn’t touch the other’s skin. They couldn’t feel the air the other breathed in the short distance. They couldn’t kiss. It was scary. It was sad. And it wasn’t awfully familiar.

But it wasn’t about Simon or Hugh.

“Do you need some privacy?” Simon asked, perhaps to both of them, knowing one wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if she tried.

In response, Adrian turned his gaze away from Nova, staring at Simon instead, nodding.

“I think that would be nice.”

Before Simon could say anything else, Hugh reached for his son’s shoulder, and once he touched it, he caressed the fabric, and the skin beneath the fabric, briefly.

“We’ll be in the lobby.”

Adrian nodded again and then, after gulping, he said:

“I love you, okay?”

The weird thing was, he didn’t look them in the eye for much. He did, but he turned his gaze away pretty fast, barely leaving time to process his own words. For that reason, nor Hugh or him responded.

They left right after that, leaving Adrian alone inside the room.

With Nova, but alone.

 -.-

They dropped Adrian at the hospital once they left Cragmoon. There was barely any sound throughout the whole ride, except when Hugh asked if they wanted something from the store, and when they said goodbye to Adrian.

Obviously, Adrian couldn’t get close to Max. Not if he wanted to avoid being neutralized by him, but sometimes, according to Adrian himself, he liked to stay in the waiting room, and help the staff with whatever they needed, for he liked Max to know he came to visit often, and that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t touch, or be in the same room with him. So they just allowed him to stay in the hospital as much as he needed. After all, it’s not like he was hurting anybody.

After that, everything was silent, all the way home, because, instead of driving towards the Headquarters, Hugh drove towards the mansion, leaving Tamaya in charge, under the excuse they would take a two hour break to have lunch together at home. She wasn’t so happy about it, but agreed anyway, because it’s not like Hugh had given her an option in the first place. He had just notified her. At this point, Hugh’s volume was getting the tiniest bit loud.  And Simon wasn’t talking about his voice.

Upon arriving into the house, Hugh threw the keys by the entrance’s table and proceeded to walk all the way towards the living room, to lay on the couch, one arm covering his eyes, without even taking his costume off. He didn’t have a reason to, because they were supposed to be back at the Headquarters in two hours and, besides, the elephant in the room was making it cold. Maybe he felt his armor would protect him from what they were doing, and from what they were still doing.

Sadly, the fabric of Simon’s costume wasn’t as warm. And as he took his mask off and placed it next to keys, he felt nothing but cold wind. He was back again at being Simon, and Simon only, without anything protecting him, in the same room as the husband who rarely ever kissed him anymore.

There was an elephant in the room, and it was killing both of them, though Hugh looked like he was already dead.

Simon tried not to pay attention to him, but when he was crossing to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but ask, in an unintentionally harsh tone:

“Are we going to have lunch or did you just want to make Tamaya more stressed?”

Hugh lowered his arm, staring at him with an arched eyebrow, lifting his neck just a little, to have a clearer view. Simon was starting to feel bad for having snapped at him, but not enough to take it back.

Sometimes you had to do the right thing, and sometimes the right thing was not taking it back.

His husband, from his part, looked rather confused, as if he couldn’t recognize the person in front of him.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked.

The question caught him off guard.

Was he okay? Simon wasn’t sure, nor did he want to answer. In times like these, Hugh wanted people to answer him what he wanted to hear and, sadly, this time Simon didn’t have any answer he would like.

“Did you take your pills, Si?”

Something inside of his body turned into a tight knot, and Simon turned his gaze towards him, in a violent act. He frowned so deeply he felt his skin itching, and though he knew that, under normal circumstances, he would’ve just interpreted this as a routinary question, this time it wasn’t the case at all. This time it felt like an attack. Like something Hugh had to take back immediately because it was not his place to ask it, that is:  a question he always asked anyway.

But not this time.

Because ,this time, he wasn’t okay.

“Don’t pull the anxiety card on me, Hugh.” Saying that left a bitter, disgusting firm on his mouth, right under his tongue, which was dry. He felt like he had just chewed on a pill.

“The anxie--” Hugh narrowed his eyes, shifting into a sitting position. “I’m not pulling that card on you. I’m just asking a question.”

“Then don’t ask that question.” Simon snapped again, heading towards the kitchen to get a class of water. His feet were making too much noise when in contact with the floor, and his mouth was too dry. It was making him crazy.

It was only then that he realized they still had something else pending, and for some reason that was enough to make him stay. Simon spun on his toes, facing him. Hugh was breathing heavily, and his brows were almost touching each other.

“You didn’t answer my question, though.” He told him, in a dry tone. “Did you want to have lunch with me or did you just think taking a break while Tamaya loses her mind would be fun?”

“If Tamaya didn’t want to be in charge, she would’ve told me, and you know that.”

“Tamaya talks back when she is given a chance to.”

An empty feeling of freedom filled Simon’s body, pushing his way into the hollow all his mixed feelings had been carving at the center of his stomach.

And it wasn’t just about Tamaya, really. It wasn’t just about how lately none of her ideas were taken into consideration. Rather, it was about how nor were Kasumi’s, or his own ideas, when they tried to speak up. It was about how things were getting weirder and weirder as time went by, to the point where Simon would see a very pregnant Tamaya in the hallway, apparently fine, but stating she didn’t know if her water was breaking or if she just really needed to use the restroom (the restroom where she didn’t fit in); it was about how everyone knew damn well that Kasumi wasn’t good at public speaking and that, if anything, it just worsened her selective mutism, and yet many important speeches were given to her; it was about how Simon felt like he was talking to a wall, and how that made him feel, suspect, even, that Hugh was back to being trapped in a closet he was already too big for.

It wasn’t just about that, in conclusion.

It was just the tip of a bigger and more messed up problem.

“Well, if you want Tamaya to go bathe in her Greek goddess shower-pool-whatever that thing is, then fine. I’ll call her, I’ll tell her to take the day off, and we go back to the Headquarters.”

 “That would be great, actually!” Simon laughed sarcastically. “But you know what would be even better?”

“I don’t, Si. You tell me.”

It was a rhetorical question.

The nerve.

“That we would act like a team. That we would stop lollygagging around and take realistic turns to have our breaks, because each one of us have lives, and we’re not the only ones who have needs.” And that was about Kasumi feeling like she couldn’t do it today but having to anyway; it was about Tamaya crying in the BBQ Sunday, explaining to her husband how she wanted her baby to be with her, as a baby bawled into her arms, trying to reach for his father, because she spent so little time at home her youngest son wouldn’t recognize her sometimes; it was about Evander claiming Sandy didn’t feel like being alone with her baby bump today, but showing up at work anyway.

And yes, they had pledged to do this, but they were supposed to be in it together.

“But how should I know?” Simon hissed. “It’s not like we’re a Council or anything.”

The bile was all over his mouth now, and Simon felt possessed. He didn’t know how to stop it, and the words just kept coming, and coming and coming, as Hugh stared, half-startled, half mad.

Simon felt like he was a loaded gun that was ready to kill everything that moved, for a reason and a cause.

All those repressed feelings. All those things he desperately wanted to say but never could. The anxiety. The desperate, insatiable craving for a touch that never came. For a kiss. For anything. For a sign. A sign of whatever. One single sign, that would just let him know Hugh was still here.

“It’s not like you needed the majority of us to agree to sentence that minor to death.” He let it go, and all the air, along with his soul, left Simon’s body. “It’s not like Evander and you needed such thing, did you?”

Hugh’s confusion frown suddenly shifted.

Then, all Simon saw was the embodiment of anger, with his cheeks becoming flushed, and his knuckles becoming yellow.

“So that’s what this is all about.”

There was one word to describe that tone, and that word was condescension.

To Simon, the gut-wrenching feeling of frustration that caused him was indiscriptable, and he didn’t wish it to anybody. He would’ve preferred Hugh to scream at him, or just refuse to answer at all, because he couldn’t take it.

He had had people talking down to him his entire life. He wasn’t willing to keep tolerating that.

And in the moment he stared into Hugh’s blue eyes, Simon knew there was no turning back. Because sometimes the right thing to do was not taking it back.

Others, it was not holding it back.

“No. In fact, it’s not about that.”

“WHAT IS IT, THEN?!”

“YOU TELL ME!” Simon howled, getting one step closer to him, and all the memories started flowing...more likely, overflowing, including that time when he had talked to Kasumi and Tamaya in the living room, just like as if they were teenagers, instead of grown ass people, about how Hugh was leaving, even though he was still right there.

Right there, looking like a corpse.

A blue, stiff corpse.

“Why don’t you ever kiss me anymore?” Simon asked, and his voice sounded way less threatening than he had intended. “Why?”

“Are you really going to pull that card on me?”

“I am going to pull it because I want to know!” Simon barked, pointing at his own chest, which was getting tighter and tighter with every second. “Why don’t you ever touch me anymore? Why am I always invisible to you, even when I’m not? Why are you so fucking cold all the time? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!”

Hugh wheezed, maybe pretending it didn’t make sense, or maybe pretending he hadn’t understood at all. Still smirking, he ran his fingers through his hair, and stared at Simon, scratching his chin, and clicking his tongue.

“So...Sex.”

Simon’s heart was pounding.

“Yes, sex!” He yelled, shameless. “And kisses, and hugs and my husband! That is what am I asking for!”

“WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?! WE’RE BUSY!”

“WE’RE NOT BUSY NOW!”

“SO YOU WANT TO GET LAID NOW?!”

“I’M NOT GETTING LAID WHILE THINKING ABOUT HOW A CHILD WILL BE EXECUTED BY ANOTHER CHILD BECAUSE I WASN’T ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING TO STOP IT FROM HAPPENING!”

“SHE TRIED TO KILL ME! SHE TRIED TO KILL MAX!”

“FIRST: AN ATTEMPTED ASSASINATION IS NOT ENOUGH TO GIVE SOMEBODY A DEATH PENALTY, AND, SECOND: THAT’S WHAT GENISSA SAID!”

“ISN’T THAT ENOUGH?!”

“THAT’S NOT ENOUGH!” Simon screamed, covering his ears with hands.

He didn’t know why, specifically, the ears, knowing that, in reality, his eyes were the problem, because every time he closed them, he saw Nova in that chair, like an animal. And he saw Genissa standing in the lobby, playing with them like puppets; he saw Evander’s despicable smirk when he told Genissa to go ahead; he saw Adrian’s furious eyes as he called his own dad a dictator; he saw Hugh.

Mostly, he saw Hugh, and the caricaturesque villain version of him, which Simon despised with every inch of his being.

Then he was back at the beginning. At Nova.

Nova, who had tan skin, pitch black hair and slanted blue eyes. And Nova, who looked familiar when she smiled, because she looked similar to that man who had come to the Headquarters asking for help, whose smile looked similar to the other person who carried their blood.

And Simon couldn’t help but consider it as a real possibility. And if he happened to be right, then they were failing her.

For the second time.

“It’ll never be enough, Hugh.” He declared. “Because she…”

Simon’s internal knots became tighter, to the point they were suffocating him.

“How do we know who this girl is?” he questioned. “How do we know it isn’t her?”

“Her, who? What are you talking about?”

“Her. The one we failed to protect.” Simon felt a tear slipping from his eye, as he became closer and Hugh walked backwards. “Uh? How do we know that? How do we…?”

But something stopped him.

 And that something was Hugh’s eyes, turning grey as chromium.

He was breathing fast. Faster with every second, and where maybe he saw anger, Simon saw nothing but deep, stored pain, flowing out of him like sweat, or like the tears that weren’t there.

There was Hugh’s bleeding shell again, protecting him like he was a small child curled up on the floor, in a ball, through a polarized surface where Simon and him couldn’t touch, and where nothing could hurt him, while everything could at the same time.

There it was.

The despicable, horrid, bleeding shell.

Except this time it wasn’t bleeding. No. No.

This time, the dense, bubbling blood was falling off it, reaching Simon’s feet, and the shell was in flames. Tall, untamable flames, that were burning the roof and everything surrounding them.

The shell was burning, while Hugh was inside of it, and nobody could get him out before he was burned to death.

Why didn’t he let anyone help him?

Why did he insist the flames weren’t there?

Why couldn’t Simon hold his hand?

Why was he so far?

“We didn’t fail to protect her. She died.” Hugh declared, and when Simon saw his lips quivering, he realized they weren’t talking about Nova anymore.

“She didn’t fail. She died. “ Simon saw the silver painting Hugh’s fingertips, as tears started rolling down his face. “She died! SHE DIED, WHEN IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME, SIMON!”

The bleeding shell was burning, and Simon still couldn’t find his way in.

“IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME! AND SHE DIED! SHE DIDN’T FAIL TO PROTECT ANYONE! SHE DIED! IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME! SHE DIED, SIMON! SHE DIED!”

Their eyes met for a couple of second, and the connection vanished after a blink.

“IT’S NOT HER FAULT SHE DIED, IT’S MINE!”

Hugh was sobbing, like a small child, and Simon was too.

“...It’s...it’s mine, Simon. Always has been.”

And they were so far, despite being so close, that they were left with holding themselves tight.

Because there was no way to get into the burning shell, for Hugh, strangely as it sounded, had never said those words out loud, because he thought the picture on the wall behind him, the one with the woman wearing a floral pink dress with their son -who was also hers- sitting on her lap, would hear him and that would make her sad.

Yet, Simon knew she wasn’t sad at the moment.

He knew her well enough to know she would’ve been disappointed, instead.

Anybody would be if they had to see their family kill the one thing they had died trying to protect.

“No.” Simon declared, calmly. “But I’m not going to go and try to convince you otherwise because I know it’s not the right time.”

Hugh started shaking.

“Si…”

“And I won’t be a part of this, either.” Simon declared, firm, still staring at the picture through the corner of his eye, yet still fully focused on Hugh. “From now on, all you’ll get from me is silence in regards to the issue. I’m not willing to be a part of it. I don’t agree with this. I will never agree.”

“You don’t understand.”

“And I’m glad I don’t. In fact, I hope I never do.” Simon wiped his tears with his palm, and before continuing, he tried to find his Hugh one more time.

He was still there.

Simon hadn’t yet given up on him, but he didn’t feel like telling him that at the moment.

For some reason.

“If Adrian wants to see me, tell him I’ll be at Kasumi’s.”

“Simon.” Hugh grabbed him by the wrist, and a simple wave from Simon’s hand was enough to get it off. Way too easy, for a person who happened to have super-strength. “Simon, please. Don’t do this again. Please. SIMON!”

But Simon did it again anyway.

Later, he wondered what Adrian had felt when he abducted Max from the hospital and left a note for them.

He also wondered what everyone else had felt when the real Nightmare showed up.

Not that he was mad at them.

He just wondered what they had felt.

[itsclydebitches]

Discredit Part Three! (Click on each pic for something resembling quality!) 

Part One---contains translations, podfic, and related works---Part Two

Tagging, credit, and transcript all below the cut 💜

First off, people who specifically asked to see more of this nonsense may God in all Her glory bless you accordingly: 

@internet-or-sleep, @just-some-girl-on-the-internet, @readytoocomply, @vocallsama, @fellowshipofthegay, @lucky-leafeon, @alph4centauri, @sumoranges, @diaphanedreams 

Aziraphale’s profile pic is courtesy of good old Neil, found here. All others are from Creative Commons. 

Sorry it took so long to produce more stupidity. YOU ALL ROCK  🎊🎊🎊 Here, have a messy transcript. 

Abdou G. 

Have you ever walked in on a conversation and, despite clearly missing the majority of it, feel like you could reconstruct it, word for word if necessary? That happened at Fell’s today. The ‘talk’ had obviously been going on for a while, but I can give you a perfect summary here: rude fuckboy thinks he gets to say who God is, Fell was having none of it.

Best response? Turn around, walk back to your apartment (pro-tip: this only works if you’re just a few blocks away), and change your shirt. I walked back in with my I MET GOD, SHE’S BLACK tee and had the pleasure of seeing Fell do a double-take.

“Yes, thank you, that’s what I’ve been trying to say!”

***

Doug E. 

Scout’s honor: I once saw that Crowley dude unhinge his jaw and eat a large pizza in one goddamn bite.

Update: you heathens read about this gay abomination with his dislocated jaw and what you decide to question is whether I was acTUALLY A SCOUT? 

***

Mary L. 

I came in with my four-year-old last week fully intending to keep him within sight at all times. Yes, I bought one of those kiddie leashes and no, I don’t regret a thing. You try holding down two jobs as a single mom to the bonefide antichrist. I love my boy, but the devil got to him, telling him things like, “Yes, Freddie, permanent marker would look just great on Mum’s only work jacket!”

I said as much to the owner because this mom needs to vent sometimes.  

I wish I could give this place a higher rating, but the ownership is frankly terrible. Inconsistent hours, no help when you’re trying to find a book, just basically all around bad customer service, BUT it still gets five stars because when I told the guy I was raising the antichrist?

“Oh yes. I did that myself not too long ago!”

We parents need to support one another. Otherwise the world is going to burn. So here’s a good review for you, Mr. Bookshop Guy. A part of me hopes you’re a better dad than you are a bookseller. The other part? The bigger part? It’s very aware that Ms. Pot here just met Mr. Kettle.

Now if you’ll excuse me, Freddie just got into the flour.

***

Alfred B.

I hereby nominate Mr. Fell as the British Steve Irwin. I’ve never seen anyone handle a red bellied black snake like that. I mean yeah, they’re a chill species overall, but there’s a difference between casually handling a snake and fucking chucking one onto the chair because it’s in your way. (Okay. Maybe Irwin was a little nicer.) 

Renee K. 

whos steve irwin?

Alfred B. 

...How old are you?

Renee K. 

15

Alfred B. 

You existed on this planet for two years with him and you dare to ask me this? Go boil your head and then use google. Good god.

***

Mark F. 

overheard the owner telling his boyfriend that last they met his brother tried to set him on fire? and succeeded?? actually now that I think about it, not sure which brother they were talking about---his brother or boyfriend’s brother--but WHOEVER has the brother needs to... i don’t even know. do something about that? ring the police or go to therapy or SOMETHING. i mean maybe they already have, i’m just an eavesdropping tourist, but the idea of someone setting that bow-tie cutie on fire—DID I MENTION THAT? PERSON ARSON. MURDER—makes my blood boil

***

Shiefa N. 

People aren’t joking about overhearing weird conversations here. I walked in on two men (owner and husband? owner and escort?) debating Seven Minutes in Heaven. You know, that stupid kissing game the better looking kids got to play in middle school. It got pretty heated at one point (pun not intended), arguing about whether seven minutes of making out was divine or damning behavior. I hung out long enough to catch the segue into a lust vs. love debate and then had to skedaddle. Nice couple. I support their weird flirting habits.

***

Chang Z. 

Is it legal to visit a store for things other then what it sells? I realize that makes me sound druggie or something but I swear I’m dealing with a much healthier addiction. (Ha. Maybe.) I cosplay (yeah, yeah, move along, trolls) and Mr. Fell has an absolute wealth of historical clothing. It’s astounding! I thought they were particularly detailed costumes at first, but no. I’m majoring in Textile and Apparel Studies. I know a naturally worn piece of fabric when I see it. Mr. Fell is always cracking jokes about how he wore this frock in the 19th century, this shirt in the 17th, oh don’t you just love my old vest? (He has... so many vests...) I indulge him because anyone who lets me borrow this stuff for free deserves all my attention and fake laughter.

Yeah. You read right. Artifacts borrowed for free. He’s even let me alter some of the stuff because I’m not exactly his size. Should this stuff be in a museum somewhere? Probably. Am I calling anyone to take my personal cosplay supply away? Noooope.

***

Leah M. 

Helping to spread the word here because I’m not sure how much foot traffic this place actually gets.

I pass Fell’s every morning on my way to work and yesterday there was a new sign in the window. This might not seem very interesting to most people on here, but you’ve got to understand that Fell’s never changes. None of it. I’ve lived in Soho since I was a boy and this place has always had the same placard with his insane times listed, same stripped paint on the door he’s never gotten around to fixing, same spiderweb in the corner I absolutely swear. My dad used to pop in there when he was in college and I swear he’s taken me through the stacks, points out books that haven’t moved in 30+ years. It’s nuts and more than a little bit impressive.

So you can imagine my shock when I passed by and saw not one, but four new papers in the front window. They’re drawings and I recommend going and taking a look for yourself. I don’t think I can accurately describe the utter chaos of crayons and glitter that’s displayed there, let alone what it’s trying to depict. A dystopia? The end of the world? If so the apocalypse features a surprising number of dogs.

There’s a fifth paper off to the side, written in Fell’s messy penmanship. It just says, “My god-children drew these!” and if that’s not the cutest things you’ve ever heard get out of my face.

***

Gabriel A. 

azirfell

alzaphral

azzzzzirafal

i’m a litttle drunk but azifjkaafha’s place is good he just needs a name easier to spell

***

Aziraphale 

Dear Gabriel A,

My partner Crowley told me about this site and the many lovely well-wishes you all have left us here. I have come to express my thanks and to offer a bit of advice. You are hardly the first person to struggle with my name, dear girl! I recommend the following three step process:

A - simple, yes? + zira - a nickname I’ve adopted over the years, easy enough to recall + phale - this is admittedly more difficult as our ending, “phale,” is neither spelled in a way nor presumed to be pronounced like the “fell” sound we end up with. In truth my name is more along the lines of Azz-ear-raf-AE-el, but change is inevitable and you needn’t hear about that transformation, nor the etymology involved in getting “fell” out of “phale.” I say this not because I don’t wish to teach you, but because my partner has reminded me--in a rather rude tone I should add--that this site has a word limit. Suffice to say you should simply memorize the “phale” portion and you shall be, as the expression goes, in tip top shape!

Best regards,

Aziraphale

P.S. Nothing personal, dear boy, but I fear I’m not terribly fond of your name either. I would highly recommend changing it if you’re ever of a mind to do so. Cheerio!

[utterlyinevitable]

I’m bored and you’re headcanons are honestly so quality omfg but anyways write a headcanon of ethan and MC having a high school, slow burn love/not love (angsty ✨✨✨ kinda like us with our muses 💀 I’m not sure if Ethan ends up coming out as gay at the end tho-honestly if he did I’m living for it) love you lots! 💖 your tumblr niece

AHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAH no no nope Ethan will not come out as gay 🤣 But I am going to take full on creative liberty with this and you’re just gonna have to deal 😘

Ethan and Becca Meet in High School 

Ethan Ramsey was 26 years old and a TA for the school’s science department. He took the part time role on a year’s contract to help pay off some of his student loans before he started residency. 

At 17 years old, Becca was a senior at a small-town high school. 

Becca was an interesting student - very quiet but intelligent. She surrounded herself with the strangest group boys. Those boys were her lab bench mates, and were incredibly subpar. 

More than once Ethan caught the three boys playing games on their laptops and scrolling their feeds instead of paying attention. 

He watched her carry them all on her back through the course. And ask for nothing in return. 

It made his blood boil - they were clearly taking advantage of their friend. 

The next week Ethan persuaded Ms. Cook changed up the seating arrangements. 

Ethan took great pleasure in marking the boys Cs instead of the B+ they were used to getting with Becca’s help. 

Second Semester, AP Bio was kicking Becca’s ass. She needed help preparing to get the 5 she needed on the exam in order to rank Top 15 in her class before graduation.

So she attended Ms. Cook’s after school sessions. 

It seemed half the class needed extra help, so they were split up into groups. Half with Cook and half with Ramsey. Becca was assigned to Ramsey. 

As the days and weeks progressed, the after school group dwindled. 

After a choose-your-partner lab that day, Becca ended up with the same group of useless individuals. 

At study group that afternoon, Ethan confronted her about it: “I don’t know why you let them take credit for your work. Be proud of your accomplishments.” “Being proud gets you enemies.” “You’d rather have friends and compromise your integrity, than showing everyone what you’re capable of?”

That made her think. 

“I’d rather come out of high school unscathed.” “You can’t make everyone love you. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you’ll come into your own.”  “And who are you, Dr. Ramsey?”  “Someone who took every opportunity I could. I advise you do the same.” 

Over the next few weeks they got to know one another better. Ethan becoming her somewhat mentor and encouraging her to speak up more and assert herself. 

She took all his words to heart. 

He was proud and a little taken aback when she found a fallacy in one of their labs and called Ms. Cook out on it. It resulted in it being postponed to fix the errors.  

Being a high school senior meant having to choose what college to go to. 

She was getting acceptance letters left and right but she had absolutely no clue what she wanted to to with her life. 

“Did you always want to be a doctor?” she asked one afternoon.  “No. But it’s what I’m good at.”  “How did you know it’s what you wanted to pursue?”  “As much as I regret saying this, it felt like a calling.”  “Hmph. Okay.”  “You don’t agree with the notion?”  “I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve applied to so many schools and different programs. How do I know which one’s right?” 

They talked about what she’s passionate about and what makes her happiest and what careers she thinks she could pursue.  

That got her to think. Think long and hard and over a few days. 

She had a new outlook on life - she was on a new quest to find her eternal happiness. 

May came around and she took her AP exam. She got a perfect score.  _

Becca has eyes. She notices how attractive Dr. Ramsey is. Tbh everyone notices - he’s the thirst of the school district. Her girl friends even ask her about him multiple times a week. All she does is roll her eyes and say he’s too old for them.    

Becca had been all but dating Bryce Lahela for the last year and a half. 

They were friends. 

Friends who kissed and touched and spent almost every Friday and Saturday night together with the gang. 

It wasn’t a secret that Bryce was completely enamored by her. 

He wanted her. Officially. And he was tried of waiting. 

One day after school, Bryce was waiting outside Ms. Cook’s classroom for her. 

He nodded at and dodged every student that passed him as he waited. She was the last one to leave. 

“Hey,” he gave his megawatt smile.  “Hey, what’re you doing here? Don’t you have practice?”  “Ended early.” 

They exchanged small talk and Bryce finally began to lay everything out in a young, round about way. He kissed her to butter her up. 

“Be my girlfriend?”  “What’s wrong with what we already have?”  “C’mon, Becks,” he pulled her in closer by her beltloop.  “No.”  “No?”  “What’s the point? We’re just going to break up before college.”  “You don’t know that.” 

She rattled off all her reasons why: they aren’t going to the same school, they’re young, she doesn’t want to resent him, she doesn’t want to fall in love with him just for it to end badly. 

Bryce went to fight for her but was interrupted by the slam of a door. The two looked up and saw Dr. Ramsey and Ms. Cook locking up for the evening.

She pulled away from him and turned on her heels. 

At the bus stop, Becca sat with her head in her hands. 

Ethan came up next to her.   “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision. You’re going to change immensely over the next few years.”  “I know,” she grumbled into her palms. “It just hurts.”   _

Becca went to Stony Brook and double majored in Chemistry and Biology. 

She then attended Med School at UCLA. 

Her second year, a familiar name stared back at her from her required internal medicine textbook: Dr. Ethan Ramsey. 

Becca couldn’t help the smile as she remembered him. She’d almost forgot about the TA that impacted her life more than she could ever know.

Out of curiosity she consumed all his research. And when she finished everything, she found his direct email at Edenbrook. 

She spent an entire weekend wondering if she should email him - Ask if he remembered her and that she followed his advice. She found her calling and it was helping people, just like him. She thought about throwing a joke in there but figured it had been too many years and it probably wouldn’t translate. 

When residency came, she only had applied to Edenbrook. 

And that’s when she emailed him. 

She hadn’t gotten a response for months. 

Actually, she didn’t hear anything until her decision letter came. 

That same evening she found an email from him at the top of her inbox:  Glad to see you’ve found your voice. We look forward to welcoming you to the team. 

Ethan vaguely remembered Becca. 

Honestly, he blocked the whole TA part of his life out. 

Though, once he received her email, he personally vetted her application. And he was blown away. She wasn’t some naïve teenager. 

Becca started working at Edenbrook and wanted nothing more than to learn from Ethan himself. 

But he was different - jaded and cynical and not as approachable as she remembered. 

He pushed her to reach her potential and she pushed his buttons. 

They grew closer, especially with Naveen’s case. Basically the slow burn in canon happens. 

These two get together, officially, once their jobs at the new Bloombrook Diagnostics Hospital were instated and they were definitely both staying in Boston for the foreseeable future.  _

Becca didn’t particularly want to go to her 10-year high school reunion. She went because she was being recognized for her accomplishments with a few other alum. 

She brought her boyfriend Ethan with her.  “If I have to sit through this, so do you.”  “I can honestly say I’ve never been to a reunion.”  “Well, you’re my excuse to leave early. Gotta put the old man to bed,” she winked. 

She was grateful for him playing along instead of taking another shift at work, and it would be nice to just be a couple for once. Without expectations hanging over them as the heads of their respective departments at work. 

They had been in the ballroom for less than 15 minutes before they heard the loud whispers circulating. 

Seems like Becca wasn’t the only one who remember the sexiest TA in all of high school history and of teenage dreams. 

There were a bunch of intrusive questions being thrown at them and people coming up to them for the low down. 

They tried not to be rude in their admonishments but the whole situation was awkward as fuck. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring him with her.... 

But there was no going back now. 

And then Bryce sauntered over. 

They hadn’t spoken to one another since senior prom when he took her best friend as a date and then hooked up with someone else at the after party. 

“Rebecca, you look amazing,” he came in for a hug.  “Thank you, Bryce.” 

They had awkward catch ups at one side of the table as Ethan sat at the other end fending off questions from other girls and a select group of boys that remembered him. 

Bryce and Becca talked about what they’ve been up to, how he’s now a surgeon and what brought him back home. 

They lamented about how it’s strange they’re both in medicine and never spoke of that as a career path way back when. 

In their long, flowing and unawkward conversation, they settled that it was best they went their separate ways. 

They settled on the agreement that they didn’t think they’d end up at the schools they went to if they did date. They assumed love would reign and they’d choose to stay close by, and New York and California were not close by. 

With all the long awaited closure finally out of the way, Bryce motioned towards Ethan; “So, you and that guy? How’d that happen?” 

She knew what he was thinking and was quick to squash any rumors from starting.

“We work together. Didn’t mean for it to happen, it just kind of fell together.”  “You look happy.”  “I am.” 

Bryce was bold in his next assumption. Knowing Becca as the girl who always spoke about never getting married and being a free bird as her main reasons for never committing to a boy, he wanted to catch her of guard:   “Is it love?” 

He wasn’t prepared for her answer.

“Yes.” 

People change and are allowed to evolve. But it’s hard to imagine someone you once loved as anything other than who they were. And it’s even harder to see them in love with someone else. 

[trashno0dle]

For You || A Linny Oneshot

AO3

Summary: Ginny and Luna practically grew up together. Luna was the only girl her age who she could talk to. When they went to Hogwarts together they were separated but they didn't let that stop them. Luna was devastated when Ginny started to distance herself from everyone and acted odd, slightly angry too, because they were supposed to do everything together. They'd promised that. But all that vanished when she saw Ginny lying in the hospital wing, and she listened when Ginny told her what happened. She comforted Ginny when she still had nightmares about it because that's what good friends do. A few years later they're closer than ever. And a little older and wiser. And Ginny can't help this feeling in her chest anytime she's close to her…

Because she loves Luna Lovegood. And she'll stick up for her no matter what.

~~~

The first day someone called Luna, ‘Loony Lovegood’ in front of her was the day Ginny snapped. She'd been friends with Luna for so long and she knew at times the other girl could be rather eccentric, but that didn't make her weird. She was kind, loving and creative. And that's what Ginny loved about her. And when some 5th year Slytherin spat out an insult Ginny's blood boiled. Luna didn't look too phased by this, instead she simply turned her head away. 

She then proceeded to tug on Ginny's robes, “we should probably get to class.” She said in her high, melodic voice that made Ginny's heart beat faster. Ginny clenched her fists, trying to calm herself down. 

“That's right freak, walk away with your blood traitor girlfriend!” One of them sneered from behind. Ginny's hands started to tremble.

“Aw Loony, Loony Lovegood. Got herself a girlfriend? I knew you were a freak but this is just revolting!” Said another.

Ginny couldn't take it anymore. Blatant homophobia? Harassment? She couldn't turn a blind eye to this. She had to step up for Luna, for herself. It's not like she was able to walk away without doing anything either, she needed to teach these Slytherin's a lesson. 

She spun round on her heel, eyes blazing, “oh shut it and fucking grow up will you, even if we were dating there'd be nothing wrong with that. And if you call her Loony one more time I'll hex you into oblivion!” Ginny snarled.

The Slytherin boy looked rather taken aback, not expecting to have a reaction. Then he smiled at her.

“You're just as a freak as she is.”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Ginny warned. Ignoring Luna's frequent tugs on her robes to leave it alone.

“Loony, Loony Love—” 

There was no wands, no hexing - instead Ginny found herself flying towards the boy, pulling back her first and pummeling it straight into his face. The boy stumbled backwards in surprise, Ginny - blinded by her anger - dug her fists into any exposed flesh she could find. Everything around her went numb, there was only her and the insufferable Slytherin boy. She had to defend Luna. Luna.

Luna- 

She dropped her fists, her eyes widening as she saw the blood on her hands. The boy wasn't seriously harmed. Really nothing but a black eye and a bloody nose which now that Ginny looked closer, seemed possibly broken. She staggered backwards and glanced at Luna who was behind her, hand outstretched to stop her, her eyes slightly wide. 

Ginny opened her mouth to speak but as she did Professor McGonagall hurried out from around the corner. Disappointment written across her face as she saw Ginny.

“Professor! She attacked me without warning! I didn't even do anything!” 

McGonagall sighed quietly, “Mr. Veritas please go to the hospital wing to have Madam Pomfrey fix that nose of yours. Miss Weasley, if you would please follow me to my office.”

Ginny swallowed hard. She didn't dare look at Luna, so afraid that the latter would be looking at her as McGonagall had, with disappointment or even fear in her eyes. She didn't mean to lash out like she had. But people had a certain limit, and not only was she protective of her friend - she also had no patience when it came to hurtful remarks. And homophobia? That was the last straw. 

She had been a little judgemental herself when she finally started to come to terms with her sexuality. It had happened when she started to develop feelings for Luna. Though she'd slowly grew more comfortable with that fact that she was a lesbian. After all, she'd only ever dated Michael and Dean to feel normal. But then she realized she didn't have to be held back by society and decided to just be herself. It was all well, her relationship with Dean had been rekindled after he came out as gay and started dating Seamus too. No hard feelings, luckily.

As she followed McGonagall into her office she was momentarily filled with dread. She'd been in multiple fights this year, only with her frequent corridor hexing as nasty Slytherin's or just nasty people in general. Apparently Hogwarts was full of them. But… What if she was expelled?

“Sit down Miss. Weasley.” 

Ginny sat down quietly, her gaze locked onto the floor. 

“Now if you would please tell me exactly what provoked you to attack that boy.” 

Ginny took a deep breath, “he deserved it,” she muttered, “I'm sick of everyone calling Luna ‘Loony’ like it's funny.” She added through gritted teeth.

“Bullying is inevitable, and while I disagree with the nickname, it's nothing that will stop anytime soon unfortunately. But, he must've said something else Miss. Weasley. I know you were defending a friend but to the extent of attacking another student?” McGonagall said with - was that sympathy in her eyes?

Ginny hesitated. Should she really tell McGonagall what else that boy had said? What if she was just as bad? 

“He…” she broke off.

“I'm not here to judge Miss. Weasley. Besides, this would help explain why. You've acted out a lot as of recent weeks, and I wouldn't like to have to send you home for the rest of the school year.”

Panic flared through Ginny. She looked up to meet McGonagall's gaze and sighed.

“He- he called Luna and I girlfriends and- called us freaks and revolting.” She said with a slight tremble in her voice, “I- I just… I couldn't let him say things like that…”

McGonagall just sighed, “some students can be insufferably judgemental. But it's best not to let their comments get to you.” 

“Am I going to be expelled?” 

“I'll write to Dumbledore about it and explain. I'll have to deduct some house points off Gryffindor to be fair, as well as Slytherin too,” McGonagall paused then added quietly, “though just between us Miss. Weasley, he deserved to have some sense knocked into him, I don't think Mr. Veritas will be bothering you again.”

A smile tugged at Ginny's lips as she let out a quiet laugh.

“You best head off to the common room now, I'll expect to see you here tomorrow evening for detention.”

“Thanks Professor.” Ginny said, she hopped off the stool and made her way out the classroom. She kept her head down as she walked along the corridor, she'd have to find Luna and apologize to her. She wondered how Luna had felt about seeing her completely lose her shit like that. Not good probably, Luna wasn't one for unnecessary violence.

“Ginny?” Came a soft, lyrical voice from behind her. Anxiety churned in Ginny's stomach as she turned slowly to face her best friend.

“Luna- I'm sorry about earlier I didn't- he was being a jerk-” Ginny blurted out.

“Don't apologize Ginny, I understand you were just trying to defend me. But really, it doesn't bother me, the teasing I mean.” Luna said softly. Ginny flushed at her voice. Oh why did she have to be so useless? She hoped Luna wouldn't notice the sudden change in her demeanour.

“I don't like the way they tease you though, and it just… I want to help you out Luna, like you did for me.” She remembered the nights when Ginny had been too afraid to close her eyes let alone sleep, and she and Luna had spent the evening together. And when Ginny was close to having panic attacks, when she swore she could almost hear his whispering in her ears - Luna was always there to guide her away from the crowds and comfort her until she was better.

“I know,” Luna smiled, it was a dazzling thing, “but I really don't mind.”

“I'm just sorry you had to see me lose my temper like that. I didn't really know what I was doing.” Ginny admitted sheepishly.

“It's okay, at least it's out of your system now.” Luna chimed.

“Guess my head was full of Wrackspurts huh?” Ginny said with a timid laugh.

Luna's eyes widened, “possibly, oh you could write an interview for the Quibbler, it would be an amazing column!”

Ginny smiled. She continued to walk down the corridor with Luna. Her heart fluttering in her chest as she felt Luna's hand brush gently against her own. The two eventually came to a stop near the courtyard, they sat in their usual spot and stared out into the forest. 

After a couple of minutes, Luna spoke up, “Ginny…”

“Hmm?”

“When you said earlier… About if we were dating that there'd be nothing wrong with that…” she paused momentarily, as if she were trying to find the right words.

Ginny's heart continued to beat faster. 

“Y-yeah?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course,” Ginny breathed, slightly panicked, “I'm sorry uh- did you not want me to say that?” 

“No, I was just wondering.” Luna hummed quietly.

There was an excruciating silence.

“D-did I ever mention I like girls?” Ginny spluttered out. Shit - why did she say that?

Luna turned to look at her, “is that why you got so defensive?”

Ginny nodded, “I- I came to the conclusion I was a lesbian not long ago and when he said that I just…”

“Did I ever mention I like girls too?”

Now it was Ginny's turn to face her, shocked, “I don't- I don't think so.” She said dumbly.

“I think I like everyone,” Luna mused, “I don't see the reason why love should be confined to one gender. The opposite sex.” 

“Yeah…” 

This was the perfect time. She could tell Luna how she felt! But why… Why was she so anxious about it all? Luna openly admitted she was at least attracted to girls. But that doesn't mean she wants me, not like I want her…

As the sun started to set, Ginny realized it was getting late, she started to get up. Luna followed suit, getting to her feet after her. She was about to turn away when Luna put a trembling hand on her shoulder, she was clearly nervous. And before Ginny could ask why Luna pulled her closer, her lips pressing against her own.

Surprised at first, Ginny's whole body froze, then she relaxed and leaned in closer. Wrapping her hands around Luna's waist. She stumbled back, still surprised when Luna pulled away shyly.

“I'm sorry,” she squeaked, Ginny had never seen her so nervous before, “I should've asked. I'm sorry Ginny. I don't know what came over me I-”

“That was amazing.” Ginny breathed, awestruck. This was a feeling unlike any other. She'd never felt this way when Dean or Michael had kissed her. No Luna was different, the way her lips moved against hers, the soft tender feeling in her own lips… It was the best feeling she'd ever felt in her entire life. Luna stared at her with adoration.

“I love you Ginny Weasley, I think I always have.” Luna whispered.

Ginny tried to calm her internal screaming. Because holy shit was this not only was this a complete shock this was the best moment of her life. She never thought Luna would ever feel the same way about her.

“I- I love you too,” Ginny said, “I was too afraid to tell you because- I didn't think you'd feel the same way.”

“How could I not? You're absolutely perfect.”

Ginny realized she was beaming. Her smile widened as she moved closer to Luna, and took her hands in her own.

“You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and forgive me for being so cheesy but - you really are.” 

Luna blushed at that. Ginny's heart fluttered again. She was as beautiful as ever.

”Does this make us official then?” Ginny inquired.

“Only if you want to.” Luna told her.

“I didn't just confess I liked you too for no reason, of course I do dummy.” Ginny said, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek that made Luna blush even more, “guess we're girlfriends now.” She added with a smirk.

“I like that.”

[slytherinsjennie]

Little rant about HBP

I just re-read this book and it's making my blood boil.

1st is Draco: So this guy was suspicious about Harry being with them on the train but still spilled about his mission? Doesn't this ring a bell that he was trying to get Harry to stop him? (I mean YES, he attacked Harry after, but on my mind it was because of his father plus revenge cause the year before Harry and George ganged up and beated him up 2 vs 1.

Another thing about Draco is...AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE HE WAS TRYING TO TELL HARRY SOMETHING AFTER HARRY ALMOST KILLED HIM BUT HARRY DIDNT GO SEE HIM AND TRY TO GUESS WHAT HE WAS TRYING TO SAY?????????? He didnt even TRY to get Myrtle to tell him something about Draco even if he KNEW Draco was venting to her! He saw Draco crying to Myrtle and he didnt try even ONCE to get Myrtle to tell him how to help Draco! We have had Harry getting his nose into everyone's business but not this time? My ass.

Second: Hermione cheats to get Ron into the team, Harry cheats to get better at potions, Hermione, Molly and Ginny are super bullies to Fleur, Ginny bullies Ron for having no experience so he dates someone he doesnt love, Hermione dates someone just to make Ron mad, Hermione ATTACKS Ron with birds, Ginny body slams Smith...and those are the good guys? Dunno man, they got anger issues (Fleur is the true QUEEN of this series with how she shut Molly the fuck up!)

About Snape: So this man got the fame of getting points from Gryffindor even if they breath near him BUT the ONE time Harry almost killed his fav Slytherin student he did...nothing? Only punish him with no Saturdays? Like...really? lol no comment.

Harry and Ginny: Horrible, just horrible, he falls for her on one sentence and they just expect us to go with this? I think J.K. took a look and thought: Harry sounds so gay, he is half of the book obsessed with Draco and the other half calling young Voldy handsome, I gotta do something!

And the rape drugs...how she tried to make Merope the poor little woman that was ditched with a pregnancy and how she stopped doing magic because of Tom leaving her...yeah well...Tom was RAPPED. Did anyone really expect him to stick around the product of that rape? Yeah NO.

I know J.K. is super biased (the twins were bullies, the whole Weasley family -except maybe Bill and Charlie- were full of prejudices against Slytherins and all the girls hated Fleur because she was pretty and smart, Gryffindors can do no wrong and when they do they arent true Gryffindors, also they always manage to win the Quidditch matches even with their worst teams, Hermione and Harry got serious anger issues -Adding Ginny to the list later-) but DAMN this book is full of holes and cringy shit (the chest monster? REALLY? This sounds like a really bad fanfic), I liked the focus on Draco but it felt imcomplete (like what I said above), it felt like she tried to squize a lot of things together on one tiny book, the book should have been longer for this to make any sense, Harry was so OOC, and so was Snape...Also only Hermione was mad at Harry for using a curse that he knew nothing about, meanwhile Ron and Ginny baby poor Harry? And then the next page he is dating Ginny? As I said, it was TOO RUSHED, he didnt give a shit about Ginny that way last book, he barely looked at her but then BOOM, he loves her. And making her play vs Cho as a seeker to make her win and thus show she is a better woman for Harry...bullshit.

[choruscas]

suptober day 08: electric

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! (or removed if you prefer) it tags you in all my short stories like these so you never miss them!

also, i’m so sorry that these stories are late! i went on vacation and i totally forgot my writing ipad and had nothing else to use to post these! hopefully these long oneshots will make it up. thank you!

boss!castiel, assistant!dean

Working two years at an insurance company really had a toll on some people. Sometimes it sagged their skin, brittled their bones, or grayed their hair. Sometimes the bosses made your ears bleed and your nose crinkle, wishing it was five o’clock already.

But not Dean. Sure, he was thirty-two and going on strong, but he wasn’t old compared to the rest. There was still a kick in his step, his bones were mighty and strong (thanks to Sammy’s tips on how to stay fit while literally doing nothing) and maybe he had a little bit of a gut going on, but nothing he couldn’t fix.

His boss? Castiel Novak.

Lots of people didn’t like him, as he had lots of enemies. Dean wasn’t sure why, as he didn’t care. Before he accepted his job as assistant, lots of people told him about Castiel. (“Novak’s numbfuckin’ gorgeous, man.” — “Be careful with that one, he’s pretty rough.” — “He’s like... emotionless.” And those were only a few examples.)

He was stone cold, monotonous, soulless.

Even heartless, some said.

But there was a mighty, mighty problem.

Mr. Novak is the most attractive person in the entire world to Dean. Once he saw a picture of his boss, with his piercing blue eyes and five o’clock shadow, Dean was submissive nearly immediately. In his interview, Dean just could. not. stop. staring. Even if his life depended on it, he could not stop looking at the movement of his broad shoulders, the work of his rough hands, the flickering of his eyes like pure fire.

-

Dean sat in the office’s kitchen during lunch break. Normally he would go out and maybe grab a cheeseburger of sorts but today Mr. Novak seemed very different. He seemed sad, to Dean. And since Dean was in love — no... had a huge crush on his boss, it upset Dean himself.

Eating a spoonful of pudding and sucking on the plastic utensil, April Kelly sat down in a chair at Dean’s table, flattening her skirt before she sat. Dean eyed her suspiciously, as she looked a little revolted by something.

Hushed in a whisper, she asked: “So is it really true? Are you and Mr. Novak... a thing?”

Nearly choking on his spoon, Dean jerked his head back and began a coughing fit. A few other employees looked at Dean whose face began to turn red and the tips of his ears tinged shades of pinks.

There was a lot of things Dean had heard in his life that he had the same question for: what the fuck? For example, walking in on his gym teacher and science teacher going at it like rabbits in the teacher’s lounge, or the time poor seven year old Sammy came home with a broken arm and said that a squirrel had snapped it in half. (In reality, he fell of a tree because he tried to jump to a branch with a squirrel, but little children had dramatic memories.)

But this question? Cream of the crop. Takes the cake. Out of all the questions she could’ve asked. “Hey, are you a diabetic owl too?” Or “Have you dated nineteen Katherine’s all with the same spelling who also dumped you?” And sure, those questions would’ve weirded him out, but this one... just mind boggled him.

How in the fuck could Dean even be remotely in Castiel’s league? Hell, he didn’t even think he was gay.

“No— what? Who said that?” Dean gawked, his eyeballs practically falling out of his head.

April rolled her eyes softly. “Bartholomew.”

Dean huffed explosively. Bartholomew Strautman. World’s biggest fucking idiot in the world.

“That bastard? April, you know that’s not true. You’re smarter than that.”

The assistant knew for a fact that she was not, but he didn’t wanna hurt her feelings for rumors she didn’t even start. Dean’s nickname for Bartholomew was B.S., because that’s normally what he was fucking full of whenever he was around him. Dean’s surprised he’s never swallowed a damn sandal for how many times he stuck his foot in his mouth.

Now, Dean didn’t really like April, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to be nice to her. He was only mean to bitches who were mean to him first, otherwise, it was just insensitive.

“I just hope it’s not true.” she sighed sadly.

Dean quirked his head. “Why?”

“I really like Mr. Novak...” Her voice then became a whisper. “And... I think he likes me too.”

Dean blinked multiple times. “Uh— Yeah. Maybe.”

Her head peaked up to meet Dean eye to eye. “Really?” she exclaimed.

Now, Dean wasn’t really expecting that.How the fuck is he supposed to tell her, “Hey, you’re kinda dumbass and I don’t like you... and Castiel is mine, so fuck off.”

So instead he just told her that she might have a chance. It saved him from having to deal with a full-grown temper tantrum (which she’s had before because her printer paper wouldn’t fit in the copier. Dean had fixed it by simply rotating the paper.) in the middle of work, which he would much rather not have.

It was an hour before Dean left work. He normally got there at eight o’clock in the morning, because Castiel needed his coffee before nine. Granted, Castiel had never asked Dean deliberately to make his coffee, but Dean’s attempt to swoon him with bribery kindness were his day-to-day tasks. So at the moment,

The elevator dinged and Dean turned around in his desk, just having finished beating Kevin Tran in Crazy 8. Every day they’d play something different. Monday was Crazy 8, and sometimes they’d manage to round a few other people too. Today, they had managed to grab Bobby Singer, Anna Milton, and Meg Masters to play a few rounds. Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s, Thursday’s and Friday’s, it would just be Kevin and Dean playing.

Dean turned around to see his boss, and he just so managed to exit out of the tab and onto some random website that totally looked like work.

Fuck, was he hot.

His black overcoat was off and his white dress shirt was rolled up, the cuffs on his sleeves were unbuttoned, and he looked like a little bit of a mess. However, it was extremely attractive and Dean found himself biting his lip to stop himself from drooling over him.

The whole office sort of stifled quiet as Castiel’s cold eyes peered around the room. Dean, however, was the closest to him and he could just smell the cinnamon and black coffee radiating off of him.

“Dean.” Castiel said softly, looking down at Dean who had just grabbed a pen to twirl around his fingers.

“Yes sir?” Dean snapped up, straightening his posture and tugging at his sleeves.

“I need you in my office.”

Whispers quirked across the office floor, probably rumors about their relationship. It has never happened and Dean had told himself over and over again that it wouldn’t happen.

However, the thing that happened next was terrifying.

Once they had reached his office, which was a story up from his desk, Castiel had taken the lead and Dean found himself shaking with eagerness (and nervousness) of what’s next to come. Castiel had held the door open for him and once Dean reached inside, Castiel shut the door and locked it.

It was normal for Dean, but in this circumstance, he overthought everything. So the door locking was terrifying to him.

Castiel laid his hands flat on his desk and eyed Dean with precaution.

It made Dean tremble in his bones.

“You have heard the rumors, have you not?” he asked, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. It was such an innocent gesture that was so un-Castiel that Dean found himself nearly falling on his knees to worship him.

“Yeah-“ he stopped himself. “Yes sir.”

Castiel’s hands left the desk and he began slowly walking toward Dean, eyeing him as if he was prey and Castiel was the predator. Dean was then trembling in his shoes, feeling as if he could throw up from how nervous they were.

Now, Castiel’s next question was yet another question that Dean was not expecting.

“Are you romantically attracted to me?”

Not wanting to lie, Dean succumbed to Castiel’s look of prestigious nature. “Yes... yes sir- I...”

Castiel shushed him. “I’ll be after work. Make sure everybody is gone and turn off all the lights before you come back here. 5:30, Dean.”

Fuck.

-

Dean eyed the clock with such suspicion that he wanted to smash it in the floor and turn the minute handle to 5:30 already. At five o’clock, people should be starting to pack up and leave.

And as five o’clock pulled around, they did just that. Dean said his goodbyes, trying not to look suspicious. Because normally when the clock struck five, Dean was up and out faster than you could say cherry pie. He liked his job (the sexy boss sure helped) but relaxing was better to him in his opinion.

At about 5:15, people were still taking their sweet precious time.

5:20. Dean still had to go all the way to the basement to turn off the lights.

5:25. Anna Milton.

“Hey Dean, good job on Crazy 8 earlier! You’re pretty good.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes and slap her in the face. He knew exactly what she was doing, like she did everyday. Flirting.

“Listen, Anna— Mr. Novak-“

“Castiel is a cheapskate, he can wait.”

Dean’s nostrils practically flared from the informality and disrespect she had for him. Since Dean was in love had a huge crush on his boss, any disrespect towards him made him blood boil.

“Anna...”

“If the rumors are true...”

“They’re not.”

“Alright, whatever.” she flung her hands up in defeat, sighing like it was her last breath. “If you wanna play another game sometime, my house is always open to move some furniture around.”

Dean shivered. Anna was cute and all, but she was toxic and manipulative as fuck. He only had eyes for one man and one man only.

Shit! It was 5:29.

Once the door and shut and he knew Anna was out of the office like Castiel had said, Dean ran to the basement, his messenger bag almost falling down the stairs many, many times.

He really needed to work out instead of using Sammy’s stupid techniques of having good posture and drinking water (also while watching TV, a detail Dean “forgot” to tell Sam) to burn calories.

He finally reached his office, after having to run four flights of stairs, he finally made it. At 5:35. Fuck.

Knocking on the door made Dean realize how hard he was shaky. In all honesty, this was probably the scariest thing he’s ever had to do.

What if he gets fired? What if he breaks his heart? Fuck. Anything could happen.

“Come in.”

And so Dean did, and the sight he saw was a sight for sore eyes. His tie was untied and hanging around his neck, his belt was off, and his dress shirt was untucked.

The sex they had was indeed not heartless. It was soft, and full of something Dean never though Castiel was capable of giving him: love. He treasured him as if he was the richest gold or rarest diamond, kissing his every freckle and blemish like he was made of glass.

(tags below)

@potato-painter

[hetacon]

For Humanity’s Sake

Word Count: 2,668

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety, Background platonic LAMP, Background Romantic Logicality, Background Romantic Prinxiety

Warning: Swearing, physical fighting (really light, it’s one punch), bullying, crying, so so much Patton angst but I swear Virgil makes him happy

______________________________

Summary: Patton has a hard time making friends.

______________________________

By no means was Virgil seen as a kind person to all of his high school. While he was definitely the lone wolf type, he got more involved in getting into others’ business than he should have.

He got into fights basically.

He picked unnecessary fights, got into plenty of trouble, and was in detention fairly often. His parents didn’t seem to care if their son was a delinquent because outside of school, he was no more harmful than your average person.

The difference came with Patton. Patton Hart, Virgil’s best and, frankly, only friend. Well, now, he’d had some others before getting involved with Patton.

Patton Hart was definitely not the most normal of people, not that it was in any way a bad thing. He was cheerful, loved to laugh and talk for hours, sang to himself as he did chores, doodled all over his notes, made silly jokes, anything he darn well felt like doing. He had anxiety that could very well near rival Virgil’s own and that was damn impressive in and of itself. Despite this, he wasn’t very well liked.

See, even with how kind and sociable Patton tended to be, many people found him rather off putting. For one reason or another, if there was a word that people would use to describe Patton, it was this: annoying.

And if that didn’t make Virgil’s blood boil.

Since early childhood, Patton had always been sweet and talkative, going on for hours about his interests, talking about anything and everything he wanted to with a happy demeanor about him. Even then, he didn’t have friends. His mother would tell him that she always saw him as the type to get along with everyone and that everyone liked but Virgil knew Patton saw himself as pretty obnoxious. The other kids only played with him because they were in the same class as him. He was with the same 20 or so kids for 7 years, kindergarten to 6th, and not a single one of them really enjoyed him being there. It was only a nicety if anything.

Patton managed to make some friends in junior high due to common interests but this turned out more than disastrous than Patton would’ve dared to imagine. By high school, he started to realize just how little people actually wanted to talk to him so he started to keep his mouth shut whenever possible.

Virgil Knight completely destroyed that behavior as Patton instantly clicked in a way neither had ever experienced.

For one thing, Virgil actually listened to Patton as he went on long and exhaustingly winding stories, talking up a storm something fierce that Virgil wondered how Patton had ever managed to stay quiet about all of the thoughts running through his head.

Another thing was that they shared a few common interests, the first of which had brought them together being a really obscure movie from 1991. Patton was really into discussing the character growth, psychoanalysis of the characters, the time period and history, and everything in between of their common interests and while it was a bit harder for Virgil to express it to that extent, he listened to what Patton rambled about with no complaint.

One of Patton’s favorites though was that Virgil actually took the time and effort to encourage Patton to talk about the things he wanted to talk about and do the things he wanted to do. It was something special for them both.

Virgil loved Patton with every inch of his heart and he didn’t hesitate for a single second to remind people of that.

Clearly that was going to happen right now, Virgil thought to himself as one of his friends started to ask a question.

“Hey, dude, why do you even hang out with Patton? He’s not really your...” his friend hesitated, sucking in a breath. “I dunno, your style I guess.”

Virgil looked up from his lunch, mid-bite as he held his sandwich in his hands. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked a bit cooly, his language not really showing much animosity to it. But oh boy, if things were going where he thought they were-

“Virge, you’re like, his only friend, doesn’t that say something to you? How do you know he isn’t a shitty person or has serious issues or something? I wouldn’t trust him,” another person from the table spoke up.

“You don’t have to trust him or like him, you can’t please everyone. I do though, all that matters to me really. Patton’s not your friend? Chill, means I have no competition for the best friend title,” Virgil hummed out lowly, taking another bite of his sandwich.

A silence fell over the table before finally, someone seemed to say what everyone else was thinking. “Virgil, you know everyone finds him kind of obnoxious right? I mean, he’s always so loud, he clings to you like a lost puppy, and he literally doesn’t know when to shut up. He’s frankly kinda weak, who even needs to be that emotional, dude? Patton’s honestly psycho.”

Virgil’s fist slammed into his face and he was on the table, leaning over to tower over the person in front of him. His hand gripped at his friend’s shirt tightly, watching with a snarl as his friend shrank back a bit, eyes wide and clearly shocked.

“You’re going to shut the fuck up about Patton. He doesn’t have friends because shitheads like you guys can’t understand why someone would love life so much. He is not annoying, he is not weak, and he is not fucking psycho. He enjoys things, he wants to express his emotions rather than cower behind an act like an actual wimp, and he’s my best friend,” Virgil growled out. He snapped his head up to see everyone in the cafeteria looking at his table and he shoved his friend back roughly, standing on the table as he started to yell. “Patton Hart is the best person I could ever ask to be friends for and if you have a problem with business that isn’t yours to talk about, you take it up with me! You got a problem with him? You’re dealing with me before anything else and I will not stop for a single second! Fuck all of you!!”

With that, he clamored off the table, grabbing his food and backpack before storming out, catching Patton’s wrist as his friend was about to enter the cafeteria door he came out of.

“Woah Virgil, slow down!” Patton laughed, running to Virgil’s side, moving Virgil’s hand to hold his. “What’s going on?”

“People suck,” Virgil scowled before his expression softened. “How was tutoring?” he asked gently, kissing Patton’s temple. He smiled to himself in satisfaction as Patton practically lit up.

“Good, just needed a little refresher before tomorrow’s test is all,” Patton told him.

“You meet up with that guy in your class you like?” he asked, smiling a bit as Patton leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder.

Patton turned a little pink and nodded. “Yeah, he was super sweet about it even if it was a silly reason to get tutoring.”

“My best friend is silly,” Virgil hummed. “But that’s just how I like him~”

_____

Things didn’t get better for Patton as Virgil saw. Not that he exactly expected things to magically get better, for people to understand Patton overnight, and for Patton to have as many friends as humanly possible. But this was ridiculous, truly.

People started to stare at both of them, especially Patton. People wouldn’t even talk to Patton during his classes, at least the ones that knew what was going on. It didn’t seem to affect Patton too much but there were definitely moments, as was happening tonight.

Virgil had invited Patton over for a sleepover weeks ago and was getting everything ready when he heard a knock on the door, hurrying to get it.

Patton was a mess. He didn’t have his glasses for one thing, his clothes were rumpled and messy, and most noticeably was his hair, tangled and tousled unrelentingly, a wad of gum stuck in it. Patton looked close to tears and Virgil just hugged him tightly before ushering him in.

The first part of their evening was spent with Patton laying his head in Virgil’s lap as they watched The Rescuers, Virgil’s hand working through Patton’s hair with a trusty handful of peanut butter. By the end of the movie, the gum was out, Patton had calmed down a little, and Virgil sent him off to take a shower.

Patton came back from the shower a bit later, already in his pjs as Virgil set up for another movie. The night mostly went alright and Virgil was just getting to sleep at 2 in the morning when he heard Patton get you and shuffle over to his bed.

It was silent, Patton didn’t say anything and was turning back when Virgil spoke up.

“Pat?” Virgil whispered softly, grabbing his friend’s wrist.

Patton sniffled. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

There was no hesitation for Patton and within seconds, he was shaking and sobbing into Virgil’s shirt. Virgil could do nothing but rub his back and let him cry. That seemed to be enough for Patton.

_____

“Hey Virgil, have you thought about joining GSA by any chance..?” Patton asked one day at lunch, taking a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Virgil looked over to him before thinking, throwing his legs over Patton’s lap.

“Nah.”

“How come?”

“Just haven’t, you goof,” Virgil said, his eyebrow raised. “If you want an answer why I wouldn’t, it’s overrated if I’m not with you and I know you’re not planning on it.”

“But what if I did?”

“Do you?”

“... No.”

Virgil snorted and leaned over to kiss Patton’s forehead. “I have made the executive decision that this school’s gonna have a super exclusive GSA club, headed by the wonderful and responsible club president Patton Hart.”

“And who are the members of this club, Virge?” Patton asked, moving to snuggle into Virgil’s side.

“You and me, that’s all we need. Two gay as shit disasters, no one else matters in my opinion,” Virgil told him, resting his head against Patton’s while silence settled over them for a bit.

“What do we do at club meetings?”

“Talk about gay shit.”

“Does Logan count?”

“You bet your pining ass that Mandel counts.”

“Then Roman does too!”

“We’re gossiping basically then.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening.”

“Eh, fair enough.”

_____

Patton was currently playing video games with Virgil and as he fell off Rainbow Road, sighed.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked, still focused on the game.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That was your pensive sigh, not your Virgil-is-kicking-my-ass-in-Mario-Kart sigh. So what’s up?” Virgil chuckled.

“You ever just... Realize that people suck?”

“They really do, screw ‘em if they can’t take a joke, am I right?” Virgil joked, finishing off the race.

“We should watch Mamma Mia, I hope you know what you’ve done,” Patton smiled, finishing the course too. “You’re even worse than Roman with the musical references sometimes!”

“You take that back!” Virgil exclaimed, tackling Patton to the couch, smacking him with a pillow.

Patton laughed loudly and pulled Virgil down on top of him, snuggling into his best friend.

Virgil’s heart melted and he hugged on to Patton tightly. “Dear god, you’re too cute for your own good, c’mere you cuddlebug,” he muttered, happy to feel Patton relax in his hold.

_____

“Soooooo lemme get this straight, Patton-“

“Good luck with that!” Patton giggled, causing Virgil to lightly push him with a snort.

“Shut up,” he said with no malice, kissing his friend’s hair. “You asked him to go over a bit of the math work you guys got assigned and he without prompt just asked you if you wanted to meet up for coffee to do so?”

“Yeeeeep!”

“Shut up you beautiful embodiment of sunshine and rainbows, you got a study date with Logan!!” Virgil shouted, shaking a very giggly Patton.

“It’s not much but it’s spending time with him, yeah? He’s still talking to me, even if it’s about school a lot of the time.. He could..” Patton paused, smiling to himself. “He could maybe be my friend, right? Do you think he would?”

“He’s not a complete blockhead like every single dumbass in this school, he’s gonna like you,” Virgil said with a smile, hugging Patton tighter in his lap.

“Well, as the Patton and Virgil GSA meeting demands, we must now hear from our resident emo about his blockhead!” Patton teased, kissing Virgil’s cheek.

Virgil laughed and hummed. “Good grief, who made you in charge?”

“You!”

“Oh that’s right, my mistake!” Virgil joked, receiving a punch to the arm. “Roman’s been doing a good job, had his whole script memorized today when most everyone else only had half. I just worked on the sets while they were rehearsing but he came over to talk with me when he didn’t have any more scenes. Still as stupid as I like ‘im though!”

“We clearly like two men at the opposite ends of the spectrum, huh?” Patton asked.

“Yep, absolutely. A total nerd and a moron. Strange combo. Think they’d get along?”

“Only one way to find out!” Patton hummed in a sing-song tone, offering half of his pasta to Virgil.

_____

Virgil glanced over to the front door of Logan’s house as Patton was revealed on the other side. Logan was quick to give Patton a kiss and greeted him.

“Wow, your house is really nice, Loggie!” Patton said, looking around.

“Patton!!!” a loud voice squealed from behind Virgil, Roman barreling towards Patton and Logan. He practically tackled Patton to the ground and Patton laughed loudly and fully. “I missed you so so so much! Never leave me alone for a single minute ever again!” Virgil’s boyfriend whined, hugging Patton tighter.

“Roman!” Patton laughed out, hugging back tighter. “I’m never going anywhere! You can’t make me leave, you’re stuck with me!”

“Mmm, perfect!” Roman exclaimed, picking Patton up to twirl him around.

As their antics continued, both of them talking excitedly about Patton’s job at the animal rescue center and Roman’s next show, Logan sat next to Virgil. Virgil watched his best friend and boyfriend talk excitedly for a bit, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder.

“You make him this happy you know,” Logan said quietly, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s shoulder.

“Dude, you’re his boyfriend,” Virgil retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Logan chuckled. “That I am. But you were his first and only friend for a long time. You’ve made him feel like he can take on the world just by being himself. It makes me very proud of the both of you.”

“I just treated him like a human being, you know?”

“Well, when you’ve been treated alien your whole life, it can make a world of difference for someone to see your humanity,” Logan explained, smiling a bit as Patton and Roman dragged Patton’s stuff in from his car.

Virgil smiled too as soon as Patton came back inside, still beaming with the force of a supernova. “He deserves every bit of humanity.”

Patton wasn’t treated well up until he was out of high school but looking at him now, Virgil knew all the fighting and arguments were worth it. Patton truly deserved everything the three of his friends could give him.

______________________________

Taglist: @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog