#and it was less than ten minutes ago and i already dont remember it

[nullnobodynothing]

for the record i fucking guess heres how shit just went:

1. said i looked sad. told him a little bit of how hard the past while has been and about the dissociative episode i had the other day felt and how much amnesia and how badly ive been doing since

2. asked if he could tell me something and talked about how scared he was about me cutting, his fears about me being out of control and that im going to die and hes going to find me

3. i clarified my experience in an attempt to alleviate his fears and tried to reassure him

4. he seemed to feel a little better, was going through the laundry found a shirt with blood on it i tried to hide and became very upset again. said somewhere in there (i think he asked? i think i was crying?) that im upset that im hurting him because im hurting. he said thats why he didnt want to talk about what hes thinking (i had asked what he was thinking and he had said still the bloody shirt and thats why he was having a hard time). like because i was upset that he was sad and scared because of me. (commentary; the shit i fucking go through trying not to KILL MYSELF)

5. ended up saying hes glad we talked about it and that he would be thinking about it (the self harm) anyway so not to feel guilty for bringing it up (i dont think i did?) because he wanted to talk about it anyway

6. somehow after that ended up talking about how hopeless he feels and his future is like a black hole and nothing brings him joy anymore. im jusy trying to fucking hold it together at this point.

7. i dont remember what else after that a bunch of shit where im just laying there wanting to leave and hes clinging to me going back and forth between being chatty and fine and crying about. stuff i wish i could remember. at the end a lot of me telling him i want him to be able to relax and feel satisfied with the time i spend with him and not talk about all this catastrophic shit when he has to wake up early for work and is trying to wind down

[jawllines]

Sorry to be annoying but I asked awhile ago and I think tumblr ate my ask but did you ever do tattoo Harry blurb? I love them and I miss them:( I’ve looked through your tags and there isn’t any on there if you have posted one

I CAN POST ONE I WROTE A WHILE AGO RIGHT NOW :D I DONT THINK I POSTED HERE BUT LET ME KNOW HERE YOU GO PET 

i.

“Baby -- baby, c’mon!”

It was rare that Harry ever woke Y/N with more than kisses and cuddles. Maybe an abrupt shoulder shake if the both of them slept through their alarms (and, considering that they are the only ones with the key to open up their own respective stores, they never typically arrived late facing happy employees -- or in Y/N’s case, employee -- Niall, in particular, was always more of a grump in that situation than Riktor even), but even that still managed to be tender, and soft. He always treated her so delicately, as if she were made up of porcelain in the morning and it was imperative to speak in a low, soothing voice with careful touches or she might shatter. And she really didn’t think it was because she was an absolute terror to wake up -- Y/N did quite well, even as early as 5 AM she was still in somewhat of a pleasant mood, certainly nothing to be fearful of -- she thinks he’s just gentle in the morning. He’s gentle all the time, but for some reason or another, he’s extra soft with her then.

They had both had a bit of a busy day, so by the time that they made it back to Y/N’s flat (Harry said he liked it there best because it smelled like her, and -- well, he softens her up and calls her Darling when he wants them to go over there, so it’s hard to say no), both of them were ready for bed. Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open as they scarfed down the burgers they’d picked up on the way home, and once they’d finished and brushed their teeth, they toppled into each other on the mattress. Y/N would reckon they both fell asleep before their heads had even hit the pillow -- she doesn’t even remember crawling beneath the blankets.

Apparently she had though, because now as her brain tunes in with the world around her and she realizes that the distorted voice that had begun to prod her dreams was actually a grumpy, dry throat Harry, she’s cuddling herself closer in the covers. This only makes him grumble at her more, “You’re such a blanket hog,” he whines and Y/N finally blinks her eyes open, being greeted with Harry’s disgruntled, pouted face illuminated by the sunlight beginning to slip through the blinds, “I’ve been trying to unravel it for like ten minutes, but you’re all wrapped up! I’m cold.”

Y/N smiles sleepily at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation entirely as she begins to un-burrito herself from the covers, “G’morning, beautiful,” she murmurs as she does so, finally disentangling from the blankets and while she was a little less warm, Harry was quick to wiggle in beneath them, “Sorry.”

“Don’ be sweet when m’tryin’ to be angry with you,” she puckers her lips at him dramatically, and though he sighs, he leans in and presses their mouths together softly, “Your kisses aren’t g’na sweeten me up, m’still grumpy, blanket hog.”

She can only hum as she cuddles closer to him, “Sorry,” she repeated, this time adding, “Like to swaddle myself like a lil’ baby. Reckon you weren’t holdin’ me well enough last night.”

An offended gasp leaves through his lips soundly, enough that it startles her, but his arms worm around her waist and draw her closer to his body, “Brat,” he grumbled, dipping his nose into her throat, “I held you so well and you just wiggled right out of my arms and took all the covers with you.”

“Like a worm -- I wiggled out like a worm or somethin’,” she tried to sit up but his arms tightened around her, “This worm has to pee though and she’ll soak the bed if she isn’t allowed.”

His arm loosens around her, “This worm sounds like she’s a sleepy sort of delusional that requires about two hours more of rest.”

Y/N stumbles toward the bathroom in her room, “Noooooooo,” she whines, frowning at nobody, not bothering to swing the door shut before she plops on the cold toilet seat to relieve herself, “We’re supposed to go get hot chocolate, no more sleep.”

“Baby, it’s 6 AM and I’ve been up the last 30 minutes freezing my bits off!” He calls back to her and she giggles some, her eyes trying to accommodate to the bright white lights of the bathroom, “Sleep just a bit more and we’ll get the hot chocolate when we wake up next.”

She waits until she flushes and washes her hands to respond to him, and though she knows that she is definitely going to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, she stands at the foot of it with her hands in fists at her hips. He had let his eyes flutter closed by then but she thinks he could feel her eyeballing him, so he looks up past the mountain of blankets now covering him so she could only see his eyes and his nose, “What’re you doing?”

“You’re telling me, you don’t wanna go at 6 AM, three hours before the kiosk even opens to get hot chocolate with me? You must really hate me, don’t you?”

He huffs a sharp breath through his nose which is how he usually laughs in the morning, when he can’t muster up the strength to have a proper giggle, “Absolutely loathe you, baby doll, but could you please come back to bed so I can loathe you in the warmth?”

It takes little persuading -- as she said, she knew she was just going to crawl right back in beside him -- and instead of relying too heavily on the blankets to provide her warmth (like wrapping up half of it around her so she was cocooned entirely. . .this is what she normally does, and she would say that’s probably why Harry almost never has any of the covers in the morning), she relies on him. Picks up his arm so that she can fit herself underneath it and lies her cheek on his chest, “Your pits better not be smelly.”

“I make no promises.”

.                             .                         .

“I love your hair.”

“Stop it, Sweetheart, I’m g’na start blushing.”

They had slept for four more hours rather than the two Harry had originally suggested, but that always happens with them. Y/N would say that they are just too content cuddled up with one another that they milk it for all it’s worth. If one of them wakes up before the other, then they just settle their head back down and close their eyes again. Unless they had somewhere to be, of course, but Harry had a free Saturday (no clients schedule, even though Saturday’s could often be some of his heaviest days) and he’d elected to spend it with her -- whether they were awake or asleep didn’t much mater, they just liked to be near each other.

When they finally did wake up, they lazily got dressed into about thirty layers so they wouldn’t freeze outside. The weather had grown frigid quite quickly this November, and neither of them stood the cold very well, but there was a park lined with little pop-up kiosks with hot chocolate, sweets, little holiday goodies, and an obscene amount of knitted blankets (it was a clever marketing tactic, Y/N thought -- everyone is more willing to spend money on a blanket when they’re freezing cold - she and Harry had certainly fallen for it today). Y/N bought them shoe warmers to keep their toes at least not numb, and Harry lets her borrow a pair of his gloves because she keeps forgetting to buy some of her own. They both have hats fitted over their heads too, and since Harry’s let his hair grow out, his curls stick out from beneath the pumpkin orange print and Y/N can’t stop staring at it. She’s always loved his hair, she told him as much one of the first nights they’d sat on her bookstore’s floor and talked about just a bit of everything. Back when she barely realized she had a crush on him. . . .when she didn’t know that in just a little time, she would be over the moon.

And she’ll never forget that people used to make him feel like shit about his hair, so she maybe overcompensates by telling him every time she has thought about loving it. Which means today, in the span of a short three hours they’d been awake, Y/N had complimented his hair about twenty different times. If she was running her fingers through it, fixing his beanie, or just staring at him, she let him know just how much she adored his curls.

“I hate to tell you this, Button, but your cheeks are already red as apples,” she shifted the paper cup of hot chocolate from her hand closest to him to the other, so she could reach up and tuck them behind his ear, that had reddened from the cold, “The air has you more bashful than I ever could.”

“Not true,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he knocks closer to her ear, “I always blush when you go down on me.”

“God,” Y/N shakes her head, “You’re too much, d’ya know that?”

He laughs, nudging her with the cold tip of his nose, “You want the peppermint bark? We’re coming up on the seller.”

“Of course, I want peppermint bark,” she reaches for her wallet, “I’m stocking us up for the next hundred years or so.”

Harry slows for a moment, sliding his gloved hand into her own and squeezing, “Hey,” he begins, his voice soft, somewhat reflective and it brings her attention to him at her side, “Y’know when -- you remember how you said you just get random flushes of love for me and s’a whole lot and you just don’t know what to do with it?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, like every waking minute practically. Why?”

He smiles shyly, “I’m having one of those moments.”

“For the peppermint bark?” She teases, but his brows furrow and he swats her shoulder playfully, “Hey!”

“I’m trying to be sweet on you, and you’re still going on about this bloody chocolate,” he rubs the arm that he swats, even though Y/N has so many layers on plus the blanket that she bought wrapped around her, that he made no real contact with her body.

Y/N pulls him in for a hug, narrowly avoiding a child running past them as she does so, “Oh, you know m’only kidding. I love you too, Bug, more than words can describe and ten times more than the chocolate I reckon. . .well, unless it’s made really well this year.”

“I’ll leave you here, blanket hog.”

[miceandmonsters]

Orc Boyfriend - Ronar

Male orc x female reader; 5.5k

friends to lovers; first time

You met Ronar first year of college, bonding during a particularly frustrating class taught by an elf who thought a tweed blazer made him a good teacher. What started as mostly the two of you attempting to teach yourselves the required material and swearing creatively, bloomed into your closest friendship during school--one that even lasted past graduation. It, of course, helped that you’d stayed in the same city, both finding jobs and setting up lives less than twenty minutes from each other. You texted or spoke nearly every day and hung out almost as often.

More than once, over the years, both of your families had wondered/pestered about why the two of you weren’t more than friends. Your response never varied over the years. Ronar would always shoot you a pointed look, and you’d return with an exaggerated eye roll that would make him laugh quietly, and the conversation would move on. What you had with Ronar was good. After seeing more than one of your friends from school marry and then end up broken-hearted but a few years later, you were grateful to have Ronar’s dependable, constant, warm presence in your life. And you were nearly able to convince yourself that it was enough.

Nearly.

It was the little things about Ronar that felt the most damning. His loose smile right when he was on the cusp of tipsy to drunk. How he held open doors and helped carry groceries and picked things from tall shelves for you and anyone else he ever came across in need of help. The way the artfully selected beads in his dark braided hair glinted in the sunshine. His ass in wet swim trunks--you were only human after all and you thanked every god you’d ever heard of that he was definitely not. His serious expression when he was concentrating on his work, eyebrows knitted together and one thumb idly pressing against a tusk. It all added up to you being helplessly fallen for your best friend.

You probably should have said something already. You probably should have said something five years ago, honestly. Because now it felt like there was too much momentum, you were going too fast, too steady to try and jump tracks now. Couldn’t seem to quite get that thought through your thick head, but you were working on it. Or at least trying. 

In the meantime, however, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let your wildly inconvenient feelings compromise your friendship with Ronar. He obviously didn’t feel the same, but he was still very nearly the most important person in your life. So you were there for him, through thick and thin, doing your best to deny your heart and support him like he supported you.

You had plans to go see a movie together one night after work, when he texted you as you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

‘hey. would you be sad if i don’t want to go see that movie tonight?’

You frowned and dashed off a reply. ‘not really. everything okay?’

‘work was shit. dont feel like going anywhere.’

‘why don’t you come to my place? I can make spaghetti with pink sauce’

The little typing bubble appeared and disappeared a few times as you got out of our car and headed to your front door. Just inside your apartment, you got a reply.

‘i do like pink sauce’

‘see you soon’

You dropped your purse in its usual pile near the front door and headed to the kitchen, opening up the pantry cabinet to pull down--crap. You scoured through a few other cabinets, hoping that perhaps you’d just somehow overlooked or misplaced the required ingredients. Unfortunately, you had not. You were completely out. And there were only three ingredients to begin with. You dashed back to your purse and barely remembered to lock the door behind you before you ran to your car to go to the nearest grocery store.

Of course there were a million other people also trying to get last minute dinner supplies as well at the store. But you returned to your apartment in record time, noticing that Ronar’s car was parked a few spaces down. Thank gods you gave him the spare key when you moved in. 

You stepped through the front door to find Ronar splayed across your couch, as if he’d crossed the threshold and taken all of five steps before dropping face first into the cushions. Bad day at work indeed.

“Hey, Ro,” you said in a low voice. There was some sort of muffled return of the greeting. “Had to stop by the store real fast… you good?”

His hand lifted up to form a thumbs up for a second, then dropped back down to its place on the carpet.

“Okay.” It would be amusing if he wasn’t miserable. You went into the kitchen and set about the familiar pattern of spaghetti and pink sauce. After a few minutes, Ronar wandered into the kitchen, frowning at life in general and still in his work clothes. You hardly ever saw him in a suit. It was a good look on him.

He joined you, leaning against the counter across from the stove, arm brushing your shoulder in the process.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, tipping your head to look up at him.

He loosened his tie and a long sigh. “Not really. Just… the usual bullshit.” He shrugged off his suit coat, tossing it and the tie haphazardly to your kitchen table. 

You patted his arm. “That sucks. Do you… want a hug then?”

He looked over then nodded, wrapping you in a tight hug and tucking his face into your hair. Hugging your orc best friend was one part being wrapped in the most comforting grip you’ve ever known and one part trying to hold the sun. He was warm and solid and just absolutely the best hugger you’d ever met. You hoped that he found hugging you half as wonderful as you did and at least a little bit soothing. When you pulled back--his hands momentarily sliding across your waist, you noticed--he smiled down at you.

Yeah, you were totally doomed.

“So do you want to hear my plan for tonight?” you asked, turning back to the stove to stir the sauce and keep yourself from making all sorts of embarrassing giggling noises.

“Always,” he replied, coming to stand behind you and resting his chin on the top of your head.

You chuckled, but didn’t push him off. “This will be ready in about ten minutes or so. And I have ice cream in the freezer--it might be a lil freezer burned, but I think it’ll be okay. And I noticed yesterday that that show you like is now streaming.”

“Real Orc Wives of Forik City??”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh HELL yes!” He immediately thundered back into the living room. “It’s no Mountain Road Dwarf Truckers, but ROWFC is a classic.”

You heard the noises of him desperately searching for the remote and then the start up noise of your tv. Never down for long, that was Ronar. You smiled down at the sauce as you kept stirring, reminding your wayward, pattering heart that he was always like this.

Shaking it off, you pulled the cheese from the fridge, sprinkling a generous handful into the sauce. Then you pinched a bit more, tipping your head back to sprinkle it into your mouth.

“I saw that,” his voice came from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, grinning at him.

“You didn’t see nuthin’.” Then you took another pinch. He growled, tossing the remote aside, and jogged back to the kitchen, the obvious intention to steal what was rightfully yours in his eyes. “Nononono--” you protested, trying to block him by turning away and bending over to protect the valuable commodity. But he just leaned over you, laughing and easily engulfing you to snatch the cheese from your hands.

“Hah!” he proclaimed, triumphantly holding his prize over his head and out of your reach.

“That’s not very fair.” You rested your hands on your hips and frowned up at him as he grinned down at you.

“All’s fair in cheese and war.” And then he dumped half the bag in his mouth. Thinking of nothing but reclaiming the bag, you jumped up at him. Finding a foothold at his waist, you hauled yourself up over his broad shoulder as he continued to laugh. You reached for the bag that he was still holding out of your reach, but then--

Your foot slipped. The world lurched backwards. You gasped. Adrenaline shot into your bloodstream. 

But Ronar’s large arm swung around your back, catching you before you slammed against the floor. His worried face filled your vision, eyes wide and terrified. For a moment that lasted a thousand years, you both just stayed frozen in that position--him bent over and holding you while you clung to him. Only the sounds of both your heavy breathing filled the air between you two. 

Despite the nasty fall you’d almost taken, all your brain could notice was how close his face was. How close his face was, and how full his lips were. You bet that they’d be awfully nice to kiss, even better to nibble on. Your gaze darted from them up to his warm brown eyes and back down. Would he groan? Would he growl? Would he bite you back? Oh gods, you hoped he would.

Stop. This was your best friend, you couldn’t just--

All thought was immediately stopped as suddenly, without any warning at all, Ronar closed the short distance between you. It still took another full second for your mind to catch up with reality and spread the message to the rest of your consciousness that Ronar was kissing you. Ronar was kissing you.

You sucked in a startled breath. You were just starting to notice that his lips were every bit as gentle and supple as you’d ever imagined, when his eyes shot open and he pulled back with a soft ‘pop’. Your world reeled as he abruptly straightened up to standing, pulling you with him. It was all you could do to hold onto his broad shoulders and blink widely at him. Had that just actually happened?

“I’m so sorry,” he said, distraught and shaking a little. He put you back down on your feet and stepped back, hands running through his dark hair. “I don’t-- I shouldn’t have… oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He clapped a hand over his traitorous mouth and paced away, still stuttering half-apologies. You, meanwhile, had managed to finally put your head back on your shoulders. Ronar had kissed you. Ronar had kissed you. A very stupid grin spread across for your face for a moment, before you saw him still backpedaling and panicking. You grabbed his arm and made him face you again.

“Ronar!”

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. We can just pretend that never hap--” You stopped him by smacking your hand over his mouth.

“Do you want to kiss me?” you asked, your voice suddenly gone soft.

He stared down at you for a very long moment, you could see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the potential fall out for every answer. That feeling you certainly understood. But finally, thankfully, he nodded.

A smile broke out across your face. “Then shut up and kiss me.” 

Ronar’s eyes went wider still, but he edged the final half-step towards you. His hand traced from your shoulder down to your elbow, your waist. Achingly slow, as if he was worried that he’d somehow spook you, his head dipped down towards you. Finally, your lips met in the kiss you’d spent years dreaming about. And it was better than you’d ever dreamed.

It started gentle, testing almost--wading slowly into this new world you both had apparently been wanting to venture into. But surely, you both relaxed into it, familiarity turning novel in the best way. His hands drifted back to your waist, but quickly slipped around to draw you fully into his arms. You traced your tongue across the seam of his lips, and they opened for you eagerly. The kiss immediately turned deeper, more demanding.

You finally gave in and caught that lucious bottom lip of his between your teeth. He let out a low throaty moan that would fuel your imagination for weeks and picked you up, holding you tight against him. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as your fingers threaded through his thick, dark hair. 

Dimly, you were aware that Ronar was carrying you through the apartment, making a beeline for your bedroom. Good. Any other destination and you might have had to stop kissing him. As it was, you didn’t stop as he kicked the door open, you didn’t stop as he sat down on your bed, and you didn’t stop as you pressed him back onto the mattress--ending up on hands and knees over him but still kissing.

He pulled you flush against him when he sat up after a minute. You hadn’t had a chance yet to change out of the dress you’d worn to work, so when he sat up you definitely noticed that he was already half-hard inside his slacks. Since he’d responded so well to your nibbling, you pressed your luck and ground against him. He groaned, and his hands moved down from your back to squeeze your ass. Oh gods yes.

Then he broke the kiss. “Is this… actually happening?” he asked, looking wide-eyed at you. You were both panting.

“Dear gods, I hope so,” you answered, leaning back in to press a quick kiss to his tusk and then down along his jaw. He melted momentarily under your attentions, but pulled back again far too soon.

“Do you… want this to happen?” His brows were drawn together in concern, and you could see more than a little trepidation hiding in his eyes. Your heart melted all over again.

You nodded and cupped his cheeks. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Despite the world-ending makeout you were halfway through with him, the confession came out a bit bashful. “I want you. All of you.”

A smile broke out across his face along with a breathless laugh. “I-- I thought it was… was just me.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“We’re both idiots, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly before he kissed you again, more exuberance than passion. But it was so wholly Ronar that you couldn’t help but love it. His hands drifted down to the hem of your dress and tugged upon it. 

“Take this off then?” he asked, his voice gone just slightly rough.

You rested your arms on his shoulders, fingers twirling through his hair. “What’s the magic word?” you replied, smirking just a little.

He let out a half chuckle, half growl that shot straight to your core and was just entirely unfair. “Take this off now,” he ordered, hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, kneading the flesh slightly. 

“Bossy,” you quipped as your toes curled. But you grabbed the hem and pulled the dress off in one fluid motion, tossing it away. His gaze swept over you, and he blew out a long, slow breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it,” he finally said, eyes meeting yours now. “Damn beautiful.”

You would have laughed, but he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat that somehow sucked all the air out of your lungs, out of the room, out of the world maybe even. His kisses trailed slowly south as his hands moved north from your thighs--squeezing your ass again, apparently he was fond of it--up your back to pull at your bra strap. Gods, yes. You were so eager to really get this party started. But he paused half-way through.

“Is this--” he started to ask.

“Yes!” You interrupted enthusiastically. He grinned and started to lean back towards you for more kisses. You noticed then that you were about to be nearly naked, and he was completely clothed. He kissed around the edges of your bra as you felt him undo the main strap. Somehow, despite his wondrous distractions, you unbuttoned his shirt, stumbling a little on the last few as he slipped your bra off your shoulders. 

“Take this off,” you said, tugging on his shirt and not letting him pull your bra the rest of the way off.

“Now who’s bossy?” But he let go of you long enough to unbutton the last button and toss his shirt the way your dress had gone. You’d seen him shirtless a few times before, and it’d always made you weak in the knees. Thank goodness you were already sitting as the hard-packed muscle under deep emerald green skin came into view. You threw your bra off and ran your fingers through the smattering of dark hair in the center, taking in as much of him as you could in a long, quenching gaze.

“You look like you want to eat me,” he said in a quiet voice, half a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. You simply raised an eyebrow in response and thoroughly enjoyed the surprise that washed over his face followed by a low groan. “Why in the seven hells did I not say something five years ago?” 

You pushed him back on the bed, kissing up his throat and jaw to catch the pointed tip of his ear between your teeth. His hands gripped your ass again. “Because we’re idiots, remember?” you purred into his ear. 

“Right, I forgot.” Tracing your tongue over his ear made him murmur your name, fingers still kneading your flesh. Dipping down you indulged in another long held fantasy, biting his neck--not hard enough to even bruise, just enough to not be a kiss. He let out a toe curling growl and then unceremoniously, pushed you off him and abruptly stood up. You might have been worried that you’d somehow done something wrong if he hadn’t immediately started pulling off his pants.

They were about halfway down his hips when he noticed you looking, admiring really. He grinned. “Enjoying the view?” 

You would have had a quip, you always did, if he hadn't dropped his pants right then, gifting you with the stunning view of All of him for the very first time. Very proportional, wonderfully toned, sweet-merciful-gods-was-he-actually-just-sculpted-from-marble All of him.

“Fuck,” you managed, staring wide-eyed.

He was so beautiful when he laughed. He was even more beautiful as he prowled up the bed towards you, intention burning in his eyes.

“Are you always commando under your work pants?” you asked, physically having to pull your eyes away from him for a moment.

“Does it turn you on if I say yes?”

“Yes.”

He cupped your face and gave you a look that made you know his answer was going to be snarky. “Sorry to disappoint you, I’m just between laundry cycles.”

You sighed and shook your head. “A crushing blow.”

He kissed your cheek. “How will you survive it?” Then your jaw. 

“Barely, but elegantly.” Your ear. Your neck. Words were… more difficult, but you pressed on. “They’ll… they’ll make a Lifetime movie about me. Your aunt will want to watch it.”

He paused his trail down your body to grin up at you and laugh in his throat, affection in his gaze. Then he resumed his frankly miraculous work, settling down on his stomach before burying his face into your breasts with a contented sigh. For a long moment, he just remained there, kissing softly, his breath sliding across your skin. Then he lifted his hand and took your breasts gently in hand. He rolled the soft flesh under his palms, circling thumbs over your nipples. His expression was utterly enraptured.

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like, felt like for years,” he said in an nearly apologetic tone. Your response was cut off when he captured a nipple between his lips and suckled, before nipping ever so lightly, making you jolt up and gasp in response. 

“Fuck, Ro.”

“Not yet. I want to savor this.” He punctuated his sentence by running his tongue from one breast to the other, making a very undignified whine come from the back of your throat.

“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”

He answered by taking the other nipple in his mouth and sucking soundly while looking up at you. Damn, that should be illegal. Then he pulled back with a soft ‘pop’. “You love it.”

Your fingers threaded into his thick hair, and, in lieu of saying something terribly honest right now, you pulled him back up for a bruising kiss. He settled down next to you, and his fingers plucked at your underwear.

“You mind if I take these off?” he asked, running a finger just under the band.

“Please.” And finally the final barrier between you two was removed. He caught you in a deep kiss, tongue caressing over yours artfully, as the tips of his fingers traced up your inner thigh. His hand cupped you, making you groan into the kiss--it’d been so damn long since it was anyone else’s fingers down there but yours. Much less anyone that you’d wanted like him. Then he parted your folds, both of you sighing as he discovered how wet you already were. His forehead rested on your temple as he carefully mapped you, skimming and teasing and making you whimper all at the same time.

He started indirectly, taking the undulations of your hips and soft cries as guidance for how you wanted to be touched. You gripped his arm, curling in towards him. Gentle yet insistent, his fingers circled your clit, building sparks of pleasure that were quickly catching flame. But still, it wasn’t quite enough.

“Ro, please,” you whimpered, pressing a needy kiss to his jaw. “Please. I--I want you inside me.”

He shifted his hand so a thumb was pressed to your clit and you sighed a long breath as he slipped one finger inside you, thick enough to feel filled with just that. Still--

“Not what I meant,” you huffed, rocking your hips to set a tempo.

He chuckled and kissed your hair. “I know what you meant. We’ll get there. But I want to see you cum first.” You looked up, meeting his intense, hungry gaze. “I want to know that I was the one who made you feel that good.” That made you clench around his finger, and he sped up the pace a little more. 

You were so close already, you could feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach. And though his plan sounded pretty damn good, you wanted to do something first. You wrapped a hand around his heavy cock that was trapped between you, and he groaned. 

“Cheater,” he hissed, his hips bucking as his fingers stilled.

“You knew this already. You’ve played Battleship with me.”

“Longest Sunday of my life.”

In retaliation, he added a second finger inside you and pressed against your front wall, distracting you thoroughly from anything else other than his wonderful fingers.

“Ronar,” you cried, your voice quivering as a shudder ran down your spine. Nearly there--

“That’s it. Cum for me, love. Please.” Somehow it was the ‘please’ that finished you off. Your orgasm shot from your core, cascading down your limbs, making you clench and let out an inhuman noise as you quaked. But Ronar was right there, holding you through it, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. 

Till eventually, you grabbed his hand, stilling his movements immediately. He kissed your temple again and slipped his fingers from you, just holding you as you panted and came back down to earth. Somehow in all your fantasies, you hadn’t thought about how wonderful this part would be. Afterglow felt very literal in his arms. Ronar was wrapped around you, his lips on your temple, his fingers tracing a mindless pattern across your hip. It was just so good. Eventually, drowsily, your eyes opened, and your hand skimmed up his arm. He was smiling when you looked up at him.

“Was that good?” he asked, honestly. “It looked good.”

You chuckled and nodded. “It was good.”

“Good,” he said, kissing you softly and pulling you closer. His hand slipped up into your hair as he kissed you, again and again, never rushed, never hurried. He was an even better kisser than he was a hugger or anything else. You thought for a minute that you could happily die here, just spend the rest of your days being kissed by Ronar and held in his arms. Till you shifted closer to him and you felt his still hard cock brush against your thigh. Ooh, right, you had better plans than even this.

You spread your legs just enough for him to slip between them, and he pulled back with a hiss. His breathing had just shifted to something deeper as he looked at you.

“Ready to go again?” you asked, smirking a little. Your hand trailed down his side to mimic his earlier actions across his hip, so close but not quite there.

He nodded. “Please. I want… you. I want you.” There was such earnestness in his eyes that you stopped teasing him for a moment, and, in fact, you had to kiss him for it. But the time for sweet and slow was over for now, this kiss was heat and desire and left you both breathless.

“How do you want me?” you asked between kisses you pressed along his jaw.

He pulled you on top of him and then sat up--the casual show of his immense strength was still toe-curling--putting you at eye level with him in his lap. “Like this?” he asked, a hand cupping your cheek. “I want to see your face.”

“Gods, Ronar…” You shook your head and laughed just a little. 

“What?”

“You! You’re just…” You struggled to find a word to encapsulate it all, but had to give up. “Wonderful doesn’t even begin to describe.”

His thumb stroked your cheek for a moment, then he added, “How about damn wonderful?”

That made you laugh as you kissed him again, your arms wrapping around his neck. He groaned as his length was trapped between you, but he just held you close. Then suddenly he jerked back.

“Crap, do you have any condoms? Or--or…” His eyebrows knitted together in worry. “I guess I can run down to the store--”

“Ro,” you said, stopping his worry spiral. “I’m on the pill, it’s okay.”

“Right.” He heaved a breath and offered you a lopsided smile in apology.

You chuckled. “You really think you could have fit back in your pants right now?” To emphasize your point, you took him in hand and circled your thumb over the head.

“It wouldn’t have been--shit, oh don’t stop--p… pleasant. But I’d do it for--” The sentence drifted off as you lifted yourself up on your knees, moving with obvious intent. 

Ronar’s eyes were wide and wondrous as he looked up at you, both of you hovering in the moment of anticipation. You memorized his face, never wanting to forget it at this exact second. Then you sank down upon him.

It was a slow process as even with your preparation, he was still larger than anyone else you’d ever been with and you weren’t looking for any painful sensations right now. But you found yourself slowing down even more just to watch the revelations wash over Ronar’s face. Pleasure looked perfect on him. 

It was more than a minute before he was fully inside you, your hips flush to his. He pulled you close, hands rubbing across your back as he murmured gentle half-phrases of encouragement and compliments. 

You took it slow at first, more rocking than anything else. Just focusing on every sensation that you were feeling right now--his hands on your back, his breath on your neck, his chest pressed to yours. Though you were going for barely a minute before he whispered, “Wait.”

You immediately stopped, meeting his gaze. “You okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “Just changed my mind.”

You didn’t have a chance to be concerned as he quickly lifted you up and set you back on the bed, leaning over you and kneeling between your splayed thighs. “Mind if I lead?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled. “By all means.”

He kissed you once more then guided himself back to your entrance, pressing in slowly and watching your face intently. But you were ready for him--desperate might have been the better word. When he was fully sheathed, you pulled him down so he was resting on his elbows. You were surrounded, protected, safe and adored under him. And as he rocked into you, a relieved sigh left you. His gaze never left yours as he built up a rhythm and you did your best to match it. But soon he out paced you, so you hooked your heels around his waist and let him wash over you. 

You couldn’t believe that this was finally actually happening. You’d wanted him for so long and now here he was--in your bed, between your thighs, looking at you like you were the world’s most beautiful sunset as he was driving you to your second earth-shattering orgasm of the evening. The waiting and the longing and the heartache just made it all seem so much sweeter as he dipped down to kiss you.

“Ronar,” you whispered, your voice tight with emotions and delayed gratification. “I--I--”

“I know, love.” He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closing and brows furrowing in concentration. “I’m so close. Can you wait for me?”

Your response was just a high-pitched whimper that quickly turned into a prayerful chanting of his name as his pace suddenly picked up. Your grip tightened on his biceps as he neared his peak and you were teetering on the edge of yours.

“Please, please, please, please,” you whined through gritted teeth.

He caught up to you with a kiss, sending you both over the cliff in each other’s arms. You shuddered and cried out as he spilled into you with a heavy moan. For a moment, everything  was radiant and glowing and perfect. It was just Ronar and you. Even as reality filtered slowly back in, the world was better than the last time you saw it, surely. It certainly felt like it was.

Ronar relaxed momentarily on top of you, and there was something deeply safe and secure about feeling the weight of his body on yours. His cheek brushed across yours, back and forth, for a minute, and he let out a deeply contented sigh.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, starting to pull himself up and off of you. 

“Don’t be. I love this.” And you pulled him back down. His arms slipped under you to hug you tightly, his face buried against your neck, tusks pressing against your skin.

You stayed like that for several minutes, his arms around you, your fingers tracing soothing patterns across his broad back and occasionally slipping up to comb at the ends of his dark hair. It was deeply peaceful there. Though the sound of some very angry hissing coming from the kitchen broke the quiet atmosphere.

“I think dinner might be ruined,” you said with a chuckle.

He lifted his head and grinned down at you. “We can always order something.” He carded his fingers through your hair. “Or I could, um… take you on that date I’ve been meaning to ask you to for a long time.”

A corner of your mouth lifted up. “How long?” you asked, intensely curious.

The deep green blush across his cheeks got a little darker. “Since the first time you rolled your eyes.”

“Wasn’t that like twenty minutes after we first met?”

“Approximately. Yes.” You would have laughed if you didn’t see how serious he was. Oh. He dipped his head to brush his lips across yours. “How about you? Or was it when I kissed you back in the kitchen?”

You shook your head slightly. “Remember back in junior year where we stayed up all night talking at the picnic table and then got donuts right when the shop opened at 4 am?”

He nodded.

“You had whipped cream on your cheek and bags under your eyes. And the sun was rising behind you. And that was it for me.”

Warmth bloomed in his eyes, and he smiled. “Guess I need to make up for lost time then. Can I take you out this evening?”

“Please.”

Masterlist

[Thanks for reading my first monster boyfriend! <3, mice]

[temptingempress]

The Mafia’s Princess J.hs (2)

Summary: “I can’t loose you because if I loose you I loose myself. You’re all I have left.” she begged him to put the gun down. Her bloody knees splashed into the mud. Helicopters surrounded them and the sirens were getting closer and closer but she could think about was him. The man whom she fell in love with, standing in front of them. Gun pointed towards his head.

This is a HoseokxOc story but feel free to think of her as y/n. I just didn't want to call her y/n so I used my own character that you'll see in a lot of my stories but her mood and temperment will change in each story.

Warning: A bit of sexual interaction but nothing too much, weapons, skin damage, cursing, DIOR FREAKING HOSEOK. AKA: SUPERIOR HOSEOK.

Previous: https://temptingempress.tumblr.com/post/639443379410927616

Hauling Areum away in his arms from the vent into his arms, he opened the window just to see that the cops and dogs were guarding the entire motel, just waiting for them to come back and attack. He had to think and he had to think fast or else they’ll both be dead meat. He looked around and spotted one place where the dogs nor the cops have reached yet. The garbage bin. Of course, it was disgusting but it was the only chance they got. 

Hoseok’s P.O.V

I sigh as I held Areum close to my chest, there’s no way that she could be seen by the police or else it’s pretty much over for her and her family. I quickly set Areum down being careful not to to injure her even more than I already did. I had some spare time until the cops could reach this area. Taking my jacket off, I carefully wrapped it on her wounded leg so no infection would begin to grow. I had to get her back home and I had to do it fast. There she could be met with a medic. This all has me wondering if I should just drop her off at the place she belongs and leave her be. All I am is trouble in her life. I am in everybody's and I really dont give a shit. I’ve become my own nightmare that lost it’s mercy ten years ago but when it comes to her. I swear I’d do anything. I’ve become so selfish and allowed my heart to become enslaved in chains to her love. To her affection. To the way she smiles or the way the moonlight touches her soft skin. 

Love is tortuous, I feel myself going on a never ending rollercoaster with her. She was the worst thing that ever happened to me but the best thing at the same time. She can’t let me go and that’s the worst part about this relationship because I know at some point she’s going to have to let me go. Not that I want to go. I want to be her dream man and offer everything she wants that she deserves but not off of blood money. I’ve never thought that one time in my life I’d be regretting being a mafia lord. Love is powerful. 

All this goes through my mind as I picked her up once more and jumped into the trash can, where there were a lot of bags. Yes, it’s risky to possibly get stabbed by glass shards or bitten by a rat but it was better than prison. Our landing sound was muffled by the plastic bags. The cops were approaching so I closed the bin and hid myself and Areum to the best of my ability. There happened to be a small hole that I peeped through to see if the cops were going along their way but they weren’t. They were just guarding the whole hotel as well as their dogs. We needed a distraction so I picked up a rusted old wrench and while they werent looking aimed it at the highest window that was out of the cop’s eyesight, so of course they wouldn’t see the wrench. Once the glass broke the cops shouted and ran towards the window, holding their guns up. I took Areum when the coast was clear and silently got out of there, running far away into the woods. Once I was far enough, I slung Areum onto my back and looked into my suitcase for a pager. “I need a car sent to Eastwood Urgently.” 

Eastwood was about 5 miles away but it was the only place where I knew to navigate to from here. My pager dings before a man starts to talk “Yes sir, it will take us fifteen minutes. Parked in the garage sir.”

“Thanks Jungkook. Coming home soon, prepare med for Areum. She got a bog bite...” I looked at Areum’s leg. Lines of slightly opened bloody flesh lined along her legs “And a bit of a scratch.”

As I kept walking on the cops were soon long gone or so I think. You never know in this field of work. I had a long ways to go and there was no way Areum could walk on her feet. She wasn’t very heavy so I could handle it. Walking through nature was quite nice actually. It’s not something I usually do. I had to make it to Eastwood before the sun rose because if not I could get caught by someone. I felt Areum shift her head on my back, and soon her hips.

“Baby?” I say to her as she regains her conscious. I went to a tree and sat her down onto the leaves so she could wake up and I could take a small break before we move again.

Areum’s P.O.V

An instant sting shot onto my leg as if somebody took sharp nails and dragged it along on my skin. “Augh!” I whimpered as I reached for the long bloody scratch. I saw that a sweater was wrapped around my bloody wounds. I don’t even remembered what happened after being in that vent. All I remember was darkness. “It hurts.” my voice cracks as my hands tried to rub down the cut to attempt to make it feel better but my attempts only made it worse. I wasn’t used to all this. I mean, small scars and such were common but this? My eyes began to water as the pain only got worse. It wouldn’t go away. Hoseok knelt towards me, caressing my cheeks. “Hey, you’re alright.” 

~

Areum felt Hoseok’s heavy breaths as he continued to walk with her in his arms. Two hours passed and they were far out of the cop’s sight. They were almost to their destination but Hoseok’s steps became slower. Areum spoke “Stop, I could walk on my own now.”  Hoseok shook his head as he kept walking. Sure, he was tired and he exhausted. He could just pass out right then and there but he wasn’t going to let go of her.  “Hoseok.” Areum spoke louder as her fingers gripped his shirt. “Let me go.” “You’ll get hurt more Areum, I’ve already done enough to you!” He didn’t let go her, he couldn’t let her go but soon enough he had to let her go. “Let’s take a break.” he panted. Areum’s P.O.V

I laughed a little as he had to let me go sooner or later. Some long scratched lined my leg and I still felt the sting but it wasn’t unbearable. I could walk on my own now, well, at least limb. By looking at Hoseok slumped down on a tree I had to walk at this point “Okay, just get on my shoulders.” He panted and knelt down. I chuckled a bit as I tightened the ‘band aid’ Hoseok put on my cut. “No love.” I push Hoseok’s shoulders back up. “I need to start doing things on my own.” Five years ago. Areum’s P.O.V

The evening of the ball was wonderful to say the less but as the sun set over the horizon the part I dreaded came. The dance. Where my parents set up certain men from different kingdoms to dance with me. Expecting me to find my one and only true love but the truth was I liked none of these stuck up petty men. They think they all have me at their fingertips when really they all disgust me. With their pristine suits, perfect smiles, and expensive rings. I was so sick of seeing all of them but especially one of them, Namjoon. 

Namjoon was the richest prince there was. Everyone knew him, loved him, and loathed him. He was the number one running to marry in my parents list but certainly not on mine. Taking a class of champagne before the dance I saw Namjoon coming towards me. Even down to the way he walks irritates me. Even though he didn’t do anything to me I just didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t want him to take me away to wherever he lived and trap me as his little house wife. Oh yeah, might I mention, all of Namjoon’s ex wives told me not to marry him because he’s demanding, bratty, and a so called womanizer.

He gave me a smile and fixed his glasses and I returned with a nice gesture. Coming close he looked down to me, admiring every aspect of my long golden dress. He finally spoke “Good day my lady, I’m looking forward to out dance.”  I just smiled and nodded, just because I hated him didn’t mean I had to be rude to the guy. Even though I really wanted to punch his ass to ten buck two. His next words to me made me gag my champagne. “Maybe I could get more than a dance by the end of tonight.”  He swayed away with a wink. Now I really wanted to get out of this place. That man was the epitome of sickness. The bell rung and it was already time for the dance. All the princesses gathered in front of the princes. I took my position right in front of Namjoon. The kings and queens oversaw from the tall stories. Overlooking their daughters with binoculars, seeing if they could see anything “magical.”

The dance has begun and we all followed the elaborate and precise steps to the rhythm. Princes caught us by our waist and held onto our hands tight. Twirling all around the dance floor I soon was caught by Namjoon. My soon to be king. He smirked down onto me as his hand traveled down my waist. I gave him a naïve smile but I really knew what he was doing all along. I couldn’t be more happy to spin again into another prince’s arms but Namjoon seemed disappointed that my body left his presence.

 The dance went on and on and on. “I think we have found the one for Namjoon, may he have your daughter in marriage?” Namjoon’s father exclaimed loud enough for me to hear. My body went into full shock, I just wanted to get out of there. I knew my parent’s would say yes since they’ve been rooting for us. 

Spinning

Spinning

My eyes caught the guards running outside of the palace, everyone seemed distracted so I decided to discreetly take my leave. I lifted my long golden dress up and ran to where the guards were running towards. They led me all the way outside. I heard one of the guards running close so I pressed my back onto the brick wall surrounded by bushes so they wouldn’t see me.  “There he is!” One of them yelled and chased after a man. I tried to get a closer look but all I could see was a leather black mask and all black attire. He seemed to have a black turtle neck a buckles along his chest. Strange, how could he even get into the castle’s quarters. I knew I shouldn’t of but I followed the thief, looking for some new excitement. The guards lost him but I knew exactly where he was heading, the maze. He was taking a shortcut to the maze. One that could be missed by the guards. It was strange that he knew where everything was in this castle, was he one of our workers before? He entered the maze and I came after him. I saw something shiny in his hands, aw it was my bracelet. As I followed I stepped on the noisiest branch. 

Dang

The thief turned back, pulling out a black gun and it sure did look terrifying. Something that’s never allowed on the grounds of the castle. “Who goes there.” He spoke. “Come out or I will shoot.” 

I didn’t really have a choice, the last thing I wanted to do tonight was get shot. Well, maybe it was better than getting engaged to Namjoon. I came out of the bushes and allowed my dress to flow down. I bowed at the thief lifting two sides of my dress up. Once I analyzed his face might I say... He wasn’t bad looking, he looked pretty good for a thief actually. “Princess Bailey.”  The thief stood there for a bit, probably in shock he’s seeing me out of anyone. Hoseok’s P.O.V

 This day couldn’t get anymore stranger. I put the bracelet in my pocket but held the gun tight in my hand. I wasn’t afraid to get royal blood splattered on my clothes. “Who do you come with. Where are the guards.” For some reason she just stood in front of me. Staring me down as if I was some sort of toy in the toy store. She took a step closer to me but I took two steps back, holding my gun higher to her head. If I shot at anytime she would for sure dead. This was one bold princess. She spoke once again “That bracelet, it’s mine. But, you could have it.” “I wasn’t asking.” “What is it for might I ask? Will you pawn it?” She seemed super calm when seeing a whole criminal right in front of her. The biggest one of Korea that is. “It’s for someone.” “Oh a gift? How kind of you sir. If you asked me I would’ve gave it to you.”  “You don’t even know me. “ “Who are you then.” The princess smiled as she stepped closer again “I come in peace, please lower your gun.”  Not budging still I get a small intercom out of my pocket and spoke “Bring the helicopter in the maze.” “Helicopter? That’s not very discreet. This castle is filled with security tools. You’ll surely get shot down.” She sung as her heels kicked the rocks on the ground. I thought about it and she did have a point. “Cancel the helicopter..” I turned the intercom off and looked at the princess. “Okay, then what do you suggest?” The princess smiled and turned to me. Happy that I gave her an inch. This may be a big trap but at this point I didn’t have a choice. 

“Follow me.” She hums.

-

Hello everyone, I hoped you liked the part two of the Mafia’s Princess. Now you know a little backstory, I’m curious if anybody reads my story. If so could you please comment or anonymously tell me so I am more encouraged to continue it? Thank you so much and tell me what you think so far. I might accept request pretty soon! Thank you so much for reading :)

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s�� uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

 Childe

12:35

ur a horrible influence on tonia

 Childe

12:35

and whos this ZHONGLI

 Childe

12:35

also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os

 Twin 1

12:37

a normal person would say hi

 Twin 1

12:37

also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school

 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?

 Childe

12:38

thats not very convincing

 Childe

12:38

also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares

 Twin 1

12:39

isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12

 Childe

12:42

thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”

 Twin 1

12:42

well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk

 Childe

12:42

whats asmr

 Childe

12:43

asking for my sister btw

 Twin 1

12:44

A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.

 Childe

12:45

wtf?

 Twin 1

12:45

people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????

 Childe

12:45

idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos

 Twin 1

12:47

… makes sense

 Twin 1

12:47

check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type

 Childe

12:48

i thought we were talking about my sister????

 Twin 1

12:50

[message screenshots.jpg]

 Twin 1

12:50

ya she told me everything

 Twin 1

12:50

have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA

 Childe

12:51

hope he does it

He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)

It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)

When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.

The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.

Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.

Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.

“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”

Holy shit.

For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)

His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.

Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”

This time is different though.

Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.

And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.

The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)

Oh God — oh fuck.

“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)

“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)

“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”

“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”

“Huh?”

The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?

“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.

“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.

“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”

“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”

“Yeah.”

Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.

Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.

[teamred]

beautiful stranger

summary: you sneakily take photos of a cute boy on the train to send to your friend. when the cute boy sits down next to you, you realize you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were. pairing: peter parker x reader warnings: fluff, mild language word count: 1.7k words

prompt: “I was trying to take a sneaky picture of you because i told my friend about the hot guy on the train and she wanted to see but you totally noticed and yeah this is awkward” au from here

gif created by me, please credit if using

is it illegal to be this cute????

You texted your friend on the way home from school, hiding your face in your phone while sitting on the subway. Only a few steps away from you, a beautiful boy in a blue sweater grasped onto the pole as he listened to music. He stepped onto the train a few stops ago and now, you couldn’t stop staring. 

istg im sweating n dying from the close proximity of his presence 

hes not even that close

is htis normal?????

Slowly peeking up, you stole another glance at the boy. His attention drifted to his phone while your eyes danced over his sharp jawline and strong features, which contradicted against his overall sweet face. 

Saying he was beautiful was an understatement. You were so drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.  

Suddenly, he began to smile and laugh from whatever he was doing on his phone. Your heart burst then and there, causing you to hold your phone close to your chest in hopes it would contain the invisible chaos. Your friend texted you back:  

-!!! send me a pic!!! let me see!!!

fine okay gimme a sec

Lifting your phone up a bit, you angled it enough to get a decent shot of the boy, but not too high to make it obvious. You attempted to take the picture as if you were taking a selfie. Although a bit difficult since the train rattled casually, you successfully took the photo and even had extra shots to send to your friend.

-okay he pretty cute 

-u should say smth!!! 

?? what would i say “hi i think ur cute lets go out sometime”??

-yea??? thats how meeting ppl works?? 

As you texted your friend back, the person sitting beside you stood up, ready to leave the train. Without moving your head, your eyes darted to the empty seat. Then, you glimpsed at the boy, who seemed to be making his way towards you. Your phone practically fell out of your hands when you replied:  

omg the seat next to me is empty i think hes going to sitdown 

-make ur movE OR ELSE U WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN

-DONT BE A PUSSY!!

You tried your hardest to pretend you were preoccupied with your phone, but all you could do was wait for the handsome stranger to sit down. Without looking up, you heard the boy ask the lady standing in front of you if she would like to have the seat, but she politely declined. The pounding in your ears was too difficult to ignore, but you still tried your best to drown it out. It felt like forever before he sat down next to you. 

You weren’t even sure which app you were scrolling on at this point and you really couldn’t care less either. All you could think about was your friend’s text. 

Make your move. Make your move. Make your move or else-

“Hi.”

You froze, unsure if you heard a voice. You glanced around before your sight landed on the attractive figure next to you. The spotlight was all on you, with his earphones off and a smile plastered across his face as wide as a football field. Was he actually talking to you?  

“Hi.” 

Your eyes fluttered as fast as your heart in an attempt to look into his sparkling, brown eyes.     

He leaned a little closer to you. If you weren’t sweating already, you definitely were sweating now. Did you remember to wear antiperspirant today? You clenched your hands in a fist, with your phone still in hand, fighting against the urge to check. 

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered. Of course he had a sweet voice to match his face. You nodded. 

“Do I have something on my face?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you shook your head in response. “No, I don’t see anything.” 

The boy sighed a relief, relaxing into his seat a bit. “Phew, that’s good. Just wanted to make sure I look good for my picture.” 

“Hm?” 

The mysterious boy gestured towards your phone. He came in closer to whisper again—

“Rule #1 of the Selfie Rulebook: you should always try different angles to get the lighting right. You kinda just stuck your phone out in one direction and that was it.” 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He knew. 

“Well, what if I’m confident in my selfie angling? Maybe this is my best side.” You held your phone out, mocking yourself from moments earlier. You were already caught, may as well die with the lie as long as you can.  

He chuckled.

It really was illegal to be this cute. 

“Then I can’t really argue with you. Please take my most humble apologies, oh, Selfie Master.” The boy placed a hand on his chest, dipping his head as if bowing. 

Almost instantaneously, defeat took over your body. You placed your palms against your face, covering yourself in shame. Maybe if you held still long enough, the embarrassment would fade and the cute boy would forget what happened.  

“Was I that obvious?” you groaned behind your palms.

“Only to me.” 

You peeked through the slit of your fingers to find him still smiling at you. 

“Why’d you take photos of me? Art project on collecting photographs of beautiful things? I had to do that once.” 

You wondered what (or who) he took photographs of for his art project. If this conversation didn’t end in flames, maybe you could ask him. Your hands drooped down, resting upon your thighs.  

“To be honest,” you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, ready to confess. “My friend was curious about this cute guy I noticed on the subway. I needed proof to validate my taste in men.” 

After a moment to exhale, with your eyes still closed, you heard him reply:  

“Well, let me say that your taste in men is impeccable.” 

Opening your eyes, despite the warmth that radiated from your cheeks, you smiled shyly. Taking a chance, you introduced yourself and held your hand out. 

“I’m Peter,” he took your hand in his and shook it. Both of you lingered on the shake longer than expected, causing you two to giggle.  

“Which school do you go to?” you asked. 

“Midtown Tech. You?”

“Same!” 

“Really?” Peter wrinkled his eyebrows. “I haven’t seen you around before.” 

“Just transferred,” you shrugged in response. 

“Well, if you ever need help with anything, I’m always happy to help. Well, not anything, but, I mean,” he scrunched his nose while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m always here. To help. With things. Most things.” 

Laughter filled the air between you two. You opened your mouth, but stopped in your tracks when you noticed your stop was coming up soon. Just because you two went to the same school, it didn’t mean that you would ever bump into each other, especially in the sea of a few thousand other kids. It was now or never to make your move. 

“I’d love to stay and chat, but my stop’s coming up soon. I don’t normally do this, but do you want to exchange numbers and maybe meet up for coffee or something?” The words spilled so quickly from you, you weren't sure if Peter caught everything. He stared blankly at you for a moment and you almost repeated yourself when he said— 

“Definitely.” 

In a hurry, you practically dropped your phone into his hand. His fingers breezed over your phone as he typed in his info before handing it back to you. You were about to text him to ensure it was the correct number, but you saw that he already did so. The name Peter Parker was at the top of the conversation and a “Hi!” stared back at you. 

“Got your text,” Peter held up his phone as confirmation. Unwillingly, you stood up, beaming down at him, and adjusted your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Where do you have to get off?”  

“Actually,” Startling you, he stood up too. “My stop passed already.” 

With your mouth agape, you shook your head. “Wait, what? Why didn’t you-” 

“I wanted to find out the name of the pretty girl who was taking my picture,” He mirrored you, adjusting the strap of his backpack over his shoulder as well. “but I’m glad I got more than I bargained for.” 

Your mind couldn’t compute what Peter was saying; all you could do was blink incoherently. The train slowed down as you walked towards the doors with Peter trailing behind you. Both of you stepped off towards an empty side of the station near a rusty pillar.   

“Well, I have to get to the other side,” Peter gestured towards the platform across from you. Still in awe, you smacked your lips together and nodded. “It was really nice meeting you. Hopefully, we can see each other soon. Get home safe.” 

His cheeks puffed from his emerging soft smile. You died a little on the inside. 

“You too, Peter. I’ll see you around.” 

You rushed away down the stairs, bolting away from what felt like a dream. At the edge of the entrance of the station, you paused abruptly to check your phone. 

-??? WHAT HAPPENED TELL Me

-dont leave me hanging like this!!!

According to the timestamps of the texts between you and your friend, the whole interaction with Peter lasted a mere ten minutes. You chuckled in disbelief as you answered your friend: 

i have the number for one (1) peter parker!!

he goes to midtown too!!! 

and he thinks i’m Pretty 

-!!!!!!!!

-im so proud of u!!!!!!

In the middle of replying, you had a notification of a text from none other than Peter. 

*Hi! Long time no talk. 

*I don’t want to come off as impatient or weird, but is it too early to text you? Should I wait? 

*(If so, we can pretend these texts never happened in the first place…)

He wasn’t even there anymore, but your cheeks tingled once again. With a grin, you said: 

(((you can text me only if we pretend i didnt take pictures of you on the train)))

You placed your phone back into your pocket and walked home, still revelling in all the events that just occurred. Coming up to your house, you opened up Peter’s response—

*Deal :)  

[clumsyclifford]

if you're still taking prompts “i haven’t seen him smile like that in ages.” with emo lashton maybe? so perhaps emo lashton having a good day i guess 😅 i love them so much sorry if you want just change this to normal lashton 🙈 -fiancee

emo lashton having a GOOD DAY i think you’re messing with the entire natural order of the world fiancee i dont even think this is legally allowed but i tried my best for you. also this fic includes a secret shoutout to @reveriesofawriter & her long way home theory so.......yeah

-

The thing about feeling bad is that Ashton always forgets that it ends. 

When it’s him, it’s so easy to lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel in favor of shutting his eyes and drowning in the darkness of it, sinking as deep as he can go until the pit of his stomach reaches the floor, until the soles of his feet hit rock bottom. Under the heavy weight of bad days, bad weeks, it always slips Ashton’s mind that it won’t always be this dismal. There’s an all-encompassing fact to his depression, so that when it sinks its teeth in it swallows Ashton up whole, and he thinks this is it, there’s only this, it’ll be just like this for the rest of my life, and it’s in those times that Ashton wonders if he shouldn’t just maybe cut that timeline short.

But he has to grit his teeth and bear it, because that’s really not an option for him. So he shoulders his own weight, and then one day he finds himself cracking a smile at a funny joke, and the realization strikes like a hammer, that this is the end of the darkness, for now. The tunnel has finally opened up, and the sun is starting to shine again, and Ashton feels dizzy with freedom.

The feeling of floating after being bogged down by the absolute bitch that is depression is relieving, no doubt. But there’s nothing compared to watching Luke get that feeling.

Ashton recognizes the signs of a crash as soon as it happens. Normally maybe he wouldn’t, but he’s so attuned to Luke, these days especially, that when something shifts, Ashton feels it. It’s small at first, and gets worse; Luke doesn’t really talk when they have dinner, and then he just stops coming to dinner. Ashton sees him around the house less and less, and makes a habit of knocking on his bedroom door just to hear the monotonous, “Yeah,” just to be sure Luke’s still inside, breathing. There’s no use trying to prise Luke from his misery — Ashton knows how listless Luke can be, how heavy he must feel — and all Ashton can do is tap subtle reminders into the doorframe that he’s here, if Luke needs him. 

(One way or another, Luke always needs him. Selfishly, Ashton is glad, because God knows he needs Luke more than is probably good for him, and this way it’s at least a two-way street.)

In the dark fog clouding the house, Ashton rigidly maintaining his role of caretaker, they both forget their plans.

“Alex.”

Alex's smile becomes tinged with uncertainty. “Ashton!”

“You’re at our house,” Ashton says slowly, racking his brain for a reason why.

Alex furrows his brow. He’s brought his guitar, Ashton notices, and it hits like a fucking freight train.

“Aren’t we writing?” Alex asks, and Ashton slaps his palm against his forehead.

“Fuck. Shit, we so are. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I totally forgot. I’m so sorry, man.”

Alex grins. “No problem. I’ve been there. You want me to go, or…?”

“No, no, you’re here already. Sorry. Come in.” Ashton glances behind him as Alex crosses the threshold and the door swings shut. Luke is in his room. Luke’s been in his room all day, and for most of yesterday too. Fuck. If he’d remembered he would have rescheduled with Alex, but now Alex is here, and Ashton likes to hang out with him even if they can’t get much done. Besides, Ashton likes writing with Alex.

It just feels wrong without Luke, but — whatever. Life has to go on. 

“Let me just,” Ashton says, feeling frazzled. Alex laughs.

“You’re high-strung today,” he observes, and Ashton runs a hand through his hair, feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Yeah. Uh, maybe. Sorry. Let me grab Luke, um, if I can.” He bites his lip. “He might not want to…he’s kind of, um.” Ashton trails off, but Alex picks up the thread anyway, and nods soberly.

“It’s cool,” he says.

“I’ll just check,” Ashton says, and leaves Alex in the living room, setting up his guitar, while he disappears to the back of the house to drum his fingers against Luke’s door.

“Luke?”

Luke pulls the door open, and Ashton breathes a sigh of relief without meaning to. Luke’s in the cotton t-shirt and joggers that he sleeps in, and his hair is unruly. Ashton resists the urge to reach out and fix it, and then thinks fuck it and reaches out anyway. He’s missed seeing Luke. There are dark circles under his eyes, and if Ashton peers further into the room he can spy Luke’s laptop open on the bed and his songwriting notebook next to it.

Luke says, “Alex is here. I know, I heard.” He leans into Ashton’s touch when Ashton rearranges his hair, and Ashton leaves his hand cupping Luke’s crown even after he’s finished fixing it up.

“You wanna join us?” he offers quietly. “It’s fine if you don’t. Alex will —”

“No, I will,” Luke sighs. “I should.” 

“Don’t do us any favors,” Ashton says, joking but also serious. “Honestly, Luke.”

“I’m coming,” Luke says firmly. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palm — almost childishly, Ashton thinks — and says, “Give me a minute to, like.” He gestures vaguely, kind of towards himself.

“Okay,” Ashton says, because he knows too well how it feels to be babied when he’s set his mind to something, and it’s too frustrating for words. Luke is an adult. If he says he’s fine, Ashton has to trust that.

“He’s coming,” Ashton relays when he returns to the living room. Alex is sitting on the couch, messing around. Ashton gets snatches of familiar tunes, but Alex switches it up before he can put a name to them.

“Is everything okay?” Alex asks. Ashton shakes his head, smiling wryly.

“That’s the wrong question,” he says, and exhales loudly. “Everything will be okay. We’ll be fine.”

Alex gives a short nod. “I get it,” he says, and Ashton believes him.

Luke appears then, bundled up in a hoodie that once belonged to Ashton and the same joggers. “Hey,” he greets Alex, with a smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries, man,” Alex says, hopping to his feet to pull Luke into a hug. Ashton half expects Luke to jerk away, but Luke sinks into it, and Alex maybe hugs him tighter than usual. 

When they break apart, Alex says, “There’s something I want to show you guys, actually. I forgot I had this here, but — it’s all in my 5SOS book.”

“Your 5SOS book?” Ashton repeats, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Luke sits beside him, and Alex stares at them for a moment before shaking his head.

“You know I’m, like, a grown-up, right? I shouldn’t be forced to sit on the floor with you spry motherfuckers.” Despite this, he eases himself to the carpet, stretching his legs out next to Ashton’s knee. He retrieves a familiar notebook from inside his guitar case — Ashton recognizes it from past writing sessions. “My 5SOS notebook,” Alex explains, waving it at them. “Where I put all the stuff I write with you guys.”

“Aw, he has a notebook just for us,” Ashton coos, nudging Luke gently with his shoulder. Luke huffs a tired laugh.

“I’m organized,” Alex says pointedly. Ashton grins. “Anyway, I was looking through it when you went to get Luke, and it has all the stuff from our first writing sessions ever, remember that? Five hundred years ago, or something?”

“Something like that,” Luke says. Ashton rests a hand on Luke’s knee, almost unconsciously.

“Long Way Home,” Alex muses, and hands off the notebook to Ashton. “You almost made me cry with that one.”

“What?” Luke says dimly. The page is covered in scribbles, many of them crossed out, and it’s faded with time and wear. Still, Ashton can make out Alex’s messy handwriting — Long Way Home (?) across the top, and underneath, (love song to the boys).

“Not in a bad way,” Alex says. “It was just — I don’t know. It’s like watching your kid sibling enter high school. I’d already done it, and seeing you guys do it — I mean, I knew you’d be a smash. I wished I’d had someone telling me, you know, take it slow. You don’t need to grow up so fast.” Ashton studies the page, Luke peering over his shoulder at the words. REMEMBER: SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! it says under the song title, and immediately beneath that, no one let these boys grow up before they’re ready. “I know it’s your song, but I like to think of it as my song to you,” Alex says, and when Ashton looks up at him he’s grinning shamelessly, but there’s not a hint of insincerity on his face.

“You wrote this about us?” Luke repeats, incredulous, running his fingers over the page as reverently as if it were the Bible, instead of some ratty ten-year-old notebook.

“Kind of,” Alex says. “You wrote it about yourself. I just helped.”

“The bridge,” Ashton remembers. “We’re just taking it slow. You wrote that part. You fucking sneak.”

Luke shakes his head, and when Ashton turns to look he’s smiling. This one isn’t like the one from before; it goes far past his eyes, pulling up every part of his face, loosening muscles that have probably been stagnating for weeks. 

“I just thought you might want to know,” Alex says. “I played it for the band — mine, I mean — and the moment they heard it, they knew. But, you know. We get it. We got it then, and we get it now.” A hint of timidity now curves itself into Alex’s smile. It’s not a familiar look. “I don’t think you really did take it slow, actually. Ignored your own music and shot straight to fame, but whatever, it’s none of my business.”

Luke actually laughs. The sound goes straight to Ashton’s heart, gives it wings, eases an ache he hadn’t even really known he’d had, and the energy of the room shifts. Ashton thinks maybe he’s the only one who feels it, but it’s definitely different.

“We’re taking it slow now,” Luke offers, sweeping a hand around the room. The other hand settles on top of Ashton’s, on his knee. Unthinkingly, Ashton flips his palm up, threading their fingers together. “Just took us some time to realize we needed it.” 

“Well, better late than never.”

“Yeah,” Luke says. It seems mostly to himself.

“So,” Ashton says. “Not that that wasn’t super sentimental, and I will be needing photos to send to Mike and Calum, but I feel like we should maybe try to write?”

“Yeah, okay. Give it back.” Alex snatches his notebook back, flips to a blank page, pulls out a pencil.

“Let me grab my guitar,” Luke says, and pushes himself to his feet, abruptly severing the connection between their hands. Alex’s eyes travel around the room, but Luke’s guitar is missing from its usual spot on the wall.

“It’s in his room,” Ashton explains. Luke drags his fingers across Ashton’s scalp as he leaves, a tingling trail in their wake. 

“He’s been pretty bad, huh,” Alex says in a low voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so…”

“Listless?” Ashton suggests bitterly. “I know. He’s been bad. But that was good. I haven’t seen him smile like that in ages.”

Alex shakes his head. “I was so worried that this would happen to you,” he says. His tone is almost mournful. “Maybe I should have done something more, I just thought —”

“Dude, stop,” Ashton says. “There’s really no point. You’re not responsible for us. As much as you probably wish you were. We made these decisions, and this is our life. It’s not all bad. It’s not even mostly bad.” At Alex’s skeptical expression, Ashton rectifies, “It’s usually better. You caught us at a rough time.” 

“I’m sorry,” Alex says.

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck, man, just don’t be sorry for anything.” It’s pointless, is the thing, and Ashton had meant what he said. Alex isn’t responsible for their growing up. Nobody is but themselves, and — and despite everything, despite the burning, piercing anguish that sometimes balloons in his chest, threatening to drown him, if he could go back he wouldn’t really change anything. There are downs, and they are low; but there are also ups, and those are too high to surrender. Ashton knows he’s lucky. If he’s going to be depressed, he may as well be doing the job of his dreams.

“I’m smarter than you, you know,” Alex says, with a hint of a mocking smile teasing at his lips. “And so much older.”

“More susceptible to damage, you mean. Let’s see you crowdsurf nowadays, grandpa.”

“I’m seriously gonna fucking poison you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I know where you live, you —” 

“That’s nothing, I could gather your whole band —”

“Just because your band fucked off to Australia —” 

“Alright, lads,” Luke interjects, returning with his guitar and the notebook Ashton had seen on his bed. “Enough fighting over me. I assume that’s what was happening.”

“If it was, I think I was winning,” Alex says immediately.

“Doubt it,” Luke says. “Not likely to leave Ashton that easily, am I?”

Alex inclines his head. He knows when he’s been beaten, evidently. “I surrender,” he says.

Ashton looks at Luke, and Luke is deliberately not looking at him, pink staining his cheeks. But the corners of his mouth are tugging themselves unwillingly into a smile, and Ashton breathes out and resists the urge to kiss Luke’s cheek, because he can see the sun coming out, finally, and it’s going to be a beautiful fucking day from here on out.

[undercoverwizardninjaturtle]

I Forgot How To Breath: A Shattered ROTTMNT Fanfiction

Summary: A Shattered Prequel, Donnie’s not the only one who needs help from time to time. 

Word count:: 1,424

Pairing:Don’t you know me at this point? Wait you don’t? Oh then none, less then none

It was getting harder to breathe. Not because of some illness catching up to him, or because he was in any sort of distress. Believe it or not, the source of his breathing difficulty came from the Lou Jitsu Analog Watch he had refused to be more than three feet from for the past hour. Instead choosing to pace in front of it, glancing at it every so often

 “Leo they’re fine.”

 He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know Donnie was standing behind him, arms crossed with an annoyingly flat look on his face that didn’t’ betray anything other than minor annoyance. “Mikey Dad and Raph left the convention six hours ago. Even if Raph stayed behind to take more selfies with a cosplayer they should have been back by now. And they’re not responding to our texts. Mikey promised me they’d respond no matter how many times I texted them. “

 “They’re also with Dad.”

 “Dad isn’t perfect, remember when he got into a fight with that Lou Jitsu Impersonator who said Lou Jitsu was straight? He could have gotten arrested.  Again.”

His immediate brother gave off a tired sigh, “I don’t suppose you don’t want to sit at the tv at least where’s there’s a rug? You’re going to get dizzy and fall into the toilet again

“I’m not afraid of the toilet” He said with a narrow of his eyes. Turning back to his vigilance. Honestly he would of given the missing family members a call except eh had no reception, usually they had no problem with cell service but in Winter their network  always took a nose dive (A problem that kept Donnie up late at night trying to fix for the past eight years now). Truth was that Donnie and Leo should have been with their family except that the two had been unjustly grounded (ok so they had cooked Spaghetti for dinner and slipped Splinters tail in it, so he took a bite out of himself). He looked back to the analog clock for the fifth time in ten seconds

 Were they ok?

 What if something happened? What if Splinter had been arrested? What if Raph had got stranded alone and went weird again? What if Mikey had an appendix burst and they had to try and get him into a hospital without alerting anyone they were mutants? What if Mikey had fallen into a portal and ended up in a world made entirely of unblemished blank walls and refused to leave unless he painted all the walls

 His heart was beating a mile a minute, the seconds of the clock seemed to have come to a complete stop.  and squeezed his eyes shut. HE knew he was being childish; he knew he was being stubborn. Every time he thought of walking away that annoying voice return, telling him the same thing every time

That they were gone

 They were gone forever.  Taken, they were all that was left. Alone, they were all alone, now weren’t they? The only ones of their kind, in an unforgiving city. Splinter was the only one of them who had regular access to money in a way Splinter kept secret, Donnie and Leo had their allowances but that wouldn’t last forever. They’d have to find a way to make a living. Could they move in with April? NO April had her parents who had no idea of their existence. OR worst what if their family needed them and they were still in New Jersey? He KNEW nothing good ever came out of going to Jersey. This was all his fault, pranking Dad had been his idea, fi he and Donnie were there latest they’d all be together-

Every second of the clock was another second part of his family was missing

Every second of the clock was another second of his worst fears becoming reality

Every second of the clock was another second his heartbeat was getting faster

 HE was so focused the clock that when something large and flat fell over his head, covering him in darkness. Even though he was only a few months from becoming fourteen he let out the most immature shriek and thrashed around a few moments until he finally poked his head free in pure confusion till he saw Donnie with a bundle of blankets in his arms, he set one stack aside before taking the biggest and thickest one and flapping it out by the corners so it lay flat,” Come on Leo, if we’re sitting here all night we might as well be comfortable.”

 Leo looked back to the bundle of blankets, “Don come on- “

“No don’t’ be stupid, I’m not going to sit in the living room all night by myself while you watch the door all night on a cold floor. I’m not heartless. So, stop being a child and make a fort with me.”

 At first Leo was content with being a child, but when Donnie pulled out his limited edition glow in the dark Bluetooth Lou Jitsu sheets, he begrudgingly took the other edge  and helped him unfold it (while not thinking about how Donnie had never EVER used these sheets, not even when Leo had the Double Grade Rat flu and begged for them on his supposed death bed)

  So instead he grabbed a few extra pillows “No one said you were- “but even so he was welcomed with another blanket being thrown over his head. Thankfully without being in a panic, he freed himself intime to see Donnie pull over a beanbag chair and sit by his side in his favorite purple hoodie, “Pick out a movie to watch on the tablet, I’m bored.”

 “what about the internet? I thought the last snowstorm knocked it out.”

 “I downloaded them ahead of time, so we’d have something to watch. Just pick something, just so long as it’s not Jupiter Jim Sails the Seven Galaxies.”

 OF course, Donnie had the worst taste in movies. Even so he turned on Lou Jitsu in ‘Its ok to cry’ (which was a way cooler movie then it sounded)’ “It’s kind of weird, you know?” he said as the credits rolled in, “I get so used making sure you’re ok, it’s kind of weird when the tables are turned right?”

 Don had just poked his head back into their pillow fort, but made sure to roll his eyes, “what exactly do you mean by that?”

 “You know, I’m usually the one who looks after you bro. I make sure you don’t’ get overwhelmed or flustered or calm you down.” Leo was already enjoying digging into one of the chip bags Don had brought over. He was so into shoving as many chips into his mouth as possible he didn’t see Don’s exasperated face slowly unclench and his intelligent eyes glanced away, looking to his hands. If Leo had been looking at him, if anyone had been looking at him, they would have asked him why he suddenly looked so sad. And if anyone had asked, he would have answered, with a question of his own

 ‘Am I really such a burden to everyone?’

 But instead when Leo finally pulled his head free of the bag, Donnie threw a pillow at his face with a battle cry with all the skill of someone who spent most of their life learning how to mask their feelings. The ensuing pillow fight was full of laughter, and the breaking of lamps (eventually they would all be repaired with all the gum Leo and Donnie could chew) and overall, it was a fun night. IT was enough to finally ease Leo’s anxiety, and he didn’t even remember that Raph Mikey and Splinter were gone till they finally got a text a few hours later saying that they were holed up in a hotel because of the weather. Leo unleased d full smile and cheered nearly tackling Donnie over.  They would return by the next day, and only for Donnie and Leo to get grounded again for breaking so many lamps, and time went on. Yet occasionally, Don would get that same sadness in his eyes. After his meltdowns, after he’d get overwhelmed and Leo would help him, when he was sure no one was looking. And it would drive him to ask Sunita about the store just for Yokai. To take a challenge he wasn’t sure he had been ready for. That question that would haunt him

  ‘Is that all you think I am? ‘

A/n

I dont’ usually do authors notes like this, but i’m making a exception. I know right now the world is scary. I wish i could offer you some sort of comfort that would last more then a few seconds. But in truth? None of us know what tomorrow will be like, but I can promise that this will eventually become a memory as all things do.  I’m going to write as much as I can, even if it only helps one person because that one person will be worth it. Even though I’m one of the ‘essential workers’ right now (retail)

And as cliche as it sounds we are all in this together

[beyoncesdragon]

The disappointing Gender

Pairing:  Bestfriend!Ashton x Reader   

Warnings: shit ton of cursing, dont worry I love men, but women are just easier at times. Based on a real story, that shit really happened to me. 

Summary: Some men are just straight up trash. And what’s better than to vent about them to your willingly listening best friend Ashton. 

My Masterlist 🦋

(Gif credits: @ghostofmashton​)

“I don’t know exactly what goes through your mind when deciding to finally peel your limp body out of your comfy sheets, go through the usually long, self-esteem-damaging process of “getting ready”, find an outfit you would feel comfortable but not underdressed in and then leave for a party. Let me be honest, I mostly think: at least let it be worth all this. And then maybe something like; maybe I’ll meet someone. “Someone” carefully and fully on purpose undefined because you don’t want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed. But “someone” secretly being a guy, optionally a boyfriend even, but just maybe.

“However, now you are at that party, ready to meet new people and you take a look around. You see many people; some you think are pretty in your eyes some aren’t. But that’s okay, that’s only natural. So then after a time, when you have met a few girls you get along with, you spot the “someone”. And your friends somehow knew about him and all that bullshit and tell you the teeniest bit of bloody information alright? And he, on top of that, seems to be interested, keep that in mind.”

I stopped for a second, taking a gulp of my water. The few ice cubes clicked softly against the glass when I placed it back down.

“Alright. Now, you chat with him, all friendly funny business, you develop a sort of insider joke. It’s funny and you think wow, it isn’t all that difficult to talk to boys, amazing. Eventually, you also had a few, and I don’t want to say advantageously but it does help.”

A giggle fell from my bestfriends lips, but I decided to just keep going. “I will again be honest, I was a bit…inebriated if I may say so and if you would want to take me as an example. However, maybe you flirt for a while, and it really all goes well, so well that you would’ve started to become suspicious, since it was you after all. Continuing, because you’re bloody sloshed, you don’t suspect anything, even though if you would’ve just listened closely you could’ve totally heard fate snigger.”

I earned an amused hum from Ashton for that, picking up my glass again. “Further on, one of your new friends disappears with a guy and it’s okay for you but not for her friend whom you also are friends with now. That, because the other girl actually does have a guy eventually. But she isn’t sure. So you go get her, and you sit down with the girls outside to have a chat. Because it’s important that she still has a good night and so on. During that amount of time, you selflessly neglect your guy. Not that he is your guy in reality, but you secretly might have planned on making him your guy.” After a big gulp I placed my glass back down again, the ice now almost completely molten.

“Suddenly, that bloke walks out, raising a single hand at you as an obvious goodbye. And you sit here, startled and a bit dumbfounded because what the fuck is he leaving already. Quick note; it was hardly midnight, the clock stroke twelve maybe two minutes ago. So you get up, approach him and ask, why in the love of Jesus effing Christ he’s leaving already. His response; well. He hasn’t been blessed with the best of experience with women.”

And annoyed frown settled on my face. “I mean what kind of excuse is that? I haven’t only met them good guys either, but do you see me acting like an antisocial scaredy-cat? Nope sir, because I am not that superficial, and you shouldn’t be as well because I am not “women”. Also, have I mentioned that my friends told me, that he was total slag, like a fuckboy freshly bred. Best experience with women my fucking ass. However, back to my example; you then are still a bit startled because he slips that he has been cheated on and all that godforsaken crap. And in your woozy, naturally kind-hearted state you are in, you do feel sorry and possibly even apologise for being so bold. Also, because you don’t want him to think bad of you, he is very attractive after all and you have not given up your hopes just yet.”

A grin had now settled on Ash’s lips, as he leaned back with his drink, the attention still fully with me. “Then he says something like; but it was nice to meet you, and asks you to say your name again, and you do so. Naturally you do ask him the same thing…and you may have forgotten the name already.” I added with a frown, desperately trying to remember. “Something with F and it sounded French or such. Don’t know, not important anyways. Just like his existence.”

At that, Ashton laughed out loud, but wisely keeping quiet. “Yeah you just laugh…however, he then throws that horrid line; we’ll see each other again yeah?

At you, and you might think cool. But how for the love of fuck, since you don’t have anything except for a name. So the thing you do then is, you scrap all of your…I don’t know confidence from off the bottom of your rotten self and ask, if he wants to at least give you his snapchat.” Ash let out a whistle but I waved him off.

“I’m not done yet. So you ask. And he just ignores your question somehow, can’t really remember how. The whole time he’s walking away from you backwards, I guess towards the busstation and you have to follow him like damn mongrel…however. You end up leaving it be and sprinting back to your friends telling them what happened. Because they “know” him, they know his Instagram, so you decide to follow him. But he is on private so you got to send a request. Done with a few clicks, in approximately ten seconds. So now he is gone, you feel disappointment bubbling up, because fuck.”

Ash nodded slowly, looking up at me since I got up impatiently from his couch. “Sounds fun?” he said in a more or less questioning manner and I shot him a dark look.

“Buzz off twat, the best part’s only coming.” Ash rose an eyebrow, leaning back expectantly again. “Next morning you go and check your Instagram, somehow curious if he accepted your request and what do you see? He fucking declined it! This bloody wanker skipped my music, stole my attention and wasted my fucking time, four hours of it!” Ashton broke out in a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his drink.

“Comedy at its finest, certificated gold. Platinum even. Oh Jesus Christ. And that all has obviously not happened to you, you just purposely told it like it did right?” I huffed annoyed, dropping down again. “Never, as if stuff like this would ever happen to me. I mean, I totally understand mankind, it’s just that you can’t fucking use any of them.” Ash giggled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Come again?” I rolled my eyes. “I said, that you can’t fucking use any of you gentlemen. Men are so disappointing, like get a grip on yourselves honestly.” Ash grinned, nudging me with his foot. “Haven’t you just said that he should stop being superficial because of one woman?” he teased and I gave him an angry glare.

“Cheating and just generally being international disappointments is something else. I slowly start to believe that you guys are just born with that twat-gene. It’s almost not your fault. It’s probably the Y-chromosome, would explain why women aren’t like you guys.” Ash shot me an amused grin.

“I don’t know if I would surprise you saying that the explanation why men and women aren’t the same accurately is rooted in our genes. To be specific, it’s even a matter of just those two chromosome, the X-chromosome and the Y-chromosome…” I groaned annoyed, aiming a pillow at his head. I missed, but the message was clear.

“Smart-alecky dimwit, get off my back. I need emotional support, because member belonging to your sex has wasted my time and, in addition to that, ruined your all’s reputation.” Ash just hummed amused.

“Is that so.” I nodded, pouting bolshie. “Then I suggest, you listen to Ariana Grande’s Thank u Next and some Beyoncé, maybe also Rihanna. They’ll support your idea of men being trash immediately I am sure.” I flipped him off immediately, even though he had brought up a good point.

“I am kidding sweetheart. I know men can be idiots, but so can you females.” I couldn’t help but throw him a derisive look “Yes, males and females can be difficult at times.” I mocked him and he just shot me a lopsided grin. “Now you get off my back, annoying brat. But you are over him?” I shrugged.

“I mean, I was never actively involved with him, so I guess?” he nodded softly. “Venting felt good?” I nodded quickly. “Always does. Thanks bud.” He smiled warmly at me. “Everything for my best friend. Mind if I quickly call Kaitlin…” as he saw my face he immediately rolled his eyes. “Oh your little girlfriend huh? Young Irwin’s a little whipped?” giving me the finger he got up and grabbed his phone. “Shut up. I’m right back you bitter prick.”

I laughed sitting up again. “I am not bitter, I am happy for you Ash. Furthermore, I don’t have any problems with taken people or relationships. The problems I have, start when selfish and inconsiderate assholes rub in the fact that they have someone, and start gushing about them. When I, as an admittedly slowly bitter, but independent single person, couldn’t give a shit or two.” Ash grinned at me, shaking his head slightly. “I love you, you madwoman. Also, I am sure you’ll find your guy and we can do all those disgustingly cute things best friends do when they both are in relationships.”

I scrunched my nose. “Like what? Double-dates? In this case, I’d rather stay single Irwin, and now get lost you need to call your babygirl or whatever. Our ice cream is melting and our friends-day is not over yet. So you better hurry your red-dyed, slicked back visage up.” I responded harshly but with a loving lilt to it.

“On my way, woman. Love you, don’t eat my ice cream.” I just huffed, waving him off quickly. “Love you too, you ashy bitch.” I then almost choked on my water when I saw his expression at my words. He grinned and shook his head, pressing his phone against his ear.  

[lucacangettathisass]

lailoken testimonial

so anyone who’s been in the witchblr/diviningblr (is that a thing???) circle(s) long enough will no doubt come across @lailoken in some form or another. i of course am no exception. ive been following them for a while, and find their posts informative and interesting as they often touch on aspects of witchcraft that ive never heard of or considered, and we all love learning new things! but one of the things lailoken is well known for is their divination, which is what this testimonial is about.

ive been struggling recently and i wanted an outside perspective, and after reading so many glowing testimonials, i decided to go ahead an ask lailoken if they would be willing to take me on as a client!

the first thing you all need to know is just how nice, understanding, and thorough lailoken is! being a first timer i had no idea what their process or routine was, and they explained to me and how expensive certain add ons (like diviners sage) would be, and stressed to me that the more expensive options weren’t necessary if they were out of my budget. but i was feeling daring and i really wanted to give this a proper shot so i said ‘fuck it’ and went with the whole package; card reading and scrying with diviner’s sage. while i myself read tarot (also learning lenormand, sibilla, oracle, and gonna get into playing cards), scrying wasnt something i had ever tapped into, largely because of my own self doubts but that’s for a different post lmao. i had also never heard of diviner’s sage and thought it would be neat to see how it helped! now it was a little pricey, esp for someone who is still looking for work (sobs) and has to convert everything into their country’s less valuable currency (sobs more), but as someone who does paid tarot readings i understand the importance of charging for one’s time and skill, and lailoken was fully open to me paying in installments rather than all in one go, something that brought up right at the beginning before i even asked!

with that out of the way, onto the reading itself!

now my question was “are the gods of the egyptian pantheon interested in working with me?” (yes i was an ancient egypt kid no i will not apologize for it), however i didnt phrase it like that. i said a ‘certain pantheon’, as i wasnt sure how vague or detailed lailoken wanted me to be. when they asked for specifics i did say egypt and they mentioned getting an instinct on it being kemetic related, and that’s when i Knew.

there isnt anything about my blog, whether it be my url, theme, or anything like that, that would in any way hint towards that, and the last post i made about kemiticism was a good while ago and buried under all sorts of unrelated posts, so for lailoken to get that feeling was definitely a sign to me. they said they would do the reading on the 6th of jan their time (which would be the 7th my time), they would take notes, and then report back to me. i cannot tell you how excited i was. it was like counting down the days to christmas. the anticipation only added to it, and as the day got closer i felt fit to burst.

yesterday i got the report and let me tell you, it was everything i wanted and more!

i wont go into too much detail as i dont know how much lailoken wants to me to share, but what they saw in their vision connected with me in a big way, and pointed towards one deity in particular that had already tried to reach out to. there were symbols i was familiar with and ones i wasnt, but made sense in the overall context. and combined with the cards, it answered my question so thoroughly that i was literally overjoyed. my entire upper body happy stimmed (im on the autism spectrum so that happens a fair bit) for a bit, and my left hand in particular was having a good time, it stimmed for more than ten minutes, and i truly cannot remember the last time i was that happy. it was such an enlightening and positive experience, telling me what i needed to hear not what i wanted to hear, which to me is what’s most important. they told me what i need to do in order to achieve a greater connection with the pantheon, and the one deity i contacted in particular, and everything feels so much clearer now! i know what needs to be done, and i know that i can do it.

this truly was one of the greatest readings ive ever had, and ive had a fair few good ones. if you are wondering where to go for divining, or if you should take the plunge and go to lailoken, i absolutely recommend it. theyre kind, informative, patient, honest, and upfront. there are every bit as strong in character as they are in divining ability.

thank you so much again lailoken! you can def expect my ass to come back for another reading in the future!

[spellcastersjudgement]

23 nd tutorship ^v^

i apologize in advance i know this is an ignorant length but i cant help myself with THE OTP i hope you enjoy it!!! thank u bigly for sending in this ask <3333

if yall are on mobile i apologize in advance sometimes the read more links dont work whoops :((((

#23: ‘take my jacket’

 Jaden loved to party and he wouldn’t apologize for that. Tournaments, interviews, endorsements, even a season finale of a TV show—all excuses to let loose and fill up no less than three trash bags with beer cans, pass out with his shoes on, and wake up groggy yet fulfilled the next day. Being a pro duelist had been the best move he’d ever made in his life, not just for the money and pictures and love of the game, but because even boring opening ceremonies or long-ass photoshoots ended with everyone getting smashed for no other reason than that they could. It was paradise.

This party fucking sucked though.

It didn’t suck in like, a traditional sense. The ballroom was beautiful, with vaulted ceilings and elegantly decorated tables with little placards for their names and everyone was dressed nicely. He was sitting at his assigned seat, staring at the nameplate and sipping prosecco, feeling like he should climb up onto the table and dance to liven things up a bit. Though the urge was strong and he’d downed four of these flutes of angry grape juice, he instead pulled out his phone from his front pocket—yeah, he was wearing a blazer with a fancy inside pocket, something he had never expected to wear in his life—and scrolling through his texts, most of them from Syrus, who was lamenting that they weren’t together to watch Aster and Zane’s televised foreplay. Jaden felt guilty but he wished he’d had a duel scheduled tonight. Zane and Aster had gotten out of attending this party (he used the term loosely) with Alexis, but this was a by week for him and he had no excuse.

Originally when Bastion had told him that he had to attend this—gala, that had been the word—this gala he was hype, ready to hang off his boyfriend’s arm and be the pro duelist trophy boyfriend to Bastion’s physics doctoral candidate, preferably hammered and bragging about how Bastion and Alexis had been awarded a competitive research grant for an assload of money. That was the plan, at least. Then again, he was under the impression that these galas were similar to his version of a party, where everyone showed up hella drunk and someone lost their pants thirty minutes in for whatever reason. The fancy name should’ve tipped him off, he thought, texting Syrus that he might have to fake a stomachache so he could dip out early, but in his defense he assumed the fancy name was because it was a university-sponsored thing not because it was stuffy as hell.

Syrus sent him back a sternly worded text that he should be happy for Bastion and that his boyfriend had put up with all of their drunken asses more times than he could count. Jaden could suck it up for one night.

Wrinkling his nose and feeling guilt swell up in him, Jaden locked his phone and put it back in his blazer—it was Bastion’s blazer actually, as Jaden didn’t own one nor did he remember to get one even though he’d been informed of this a week ago—and downed the rest of his wine, setting the empty glass back on the tablecloth. This would probably be more tolerable if he hadn’t immediately been separated from Bastion and Alexis, who had been accosted by professors and the program director almost as soon as they’d walked in. From his spot, he could see them standing with who he recognized as their faculty adviser, probably talking about something super smart and sciencey. This shit had gone on for the past forty-five minutes and Jaden could probably just walk over and interject himself, but what would he even say? The original plan didn’t seem like it would work as he definitely couldn’t grab Bastion’s ass and make off-color jokes about how his dick-sucking lips had won them that grant with this crowd of old-ass academics.

Bastion did look good in that suit though. Jaden probably wouldn’t be able to resist getting a handful of his ass when those slacks were stretched so tightly over it, already thinking of how he should drop something in front of him so he’d pick it up and give Jaden an excellent view. Looking down at his own ensemble, he wondered how Bastion had let him out of the house. He was wearing a purple leopard print button-up and had cuffed his dress pants and had refused to wear socks with these dress shoes unless he could wear his Winged Kuriboh ones. That had earned him an exasperated look from his boyfriend, who was busy ironing his own boring white shirt. Apparently the line was at Winged Kuriboh socks, as Bastion hadn’t said anything about his outfit when they’d left.

He could probably go over there, maybe just stand between Bastion and Alexis and not say anything. It’d be better than being the only person sitting at a table alone, even if what they were talking about would definitely go over his head and there wasn’t enough dancing for it to be a real party. Getting on the table and dancing was starting to become a more attractive idea by the second.

They’d been dating long enough for there to be a little voice in his head he called his Inner Bastion, which served as both a voice of reason and about eighty percent of his impulse control (the other twenty percent was divided between Jesse, Jim, and Syrus, though Sy was usually an enabler). It even had a cute British accent. Currently, it was telling him that if the choices were between dancing on the table and suffering through academics, he should go with the lesser of two evils.

It didn’t bar him from getting more alcohol, though, which was good because he definitely needed it. Just because everyone else was still upright and had all their clothes and there hadn’t been an impromptu karaoke battle didn’t mean he couldn’t have his own little party. Bastion could carry him out if needed.

“Thanks, dude,” Jaden was glad their assigned table was by the server station, meaning he didn’t have to go more than a few feet to get more of this angry grape juice. Too bad they didn’t have anything harder or else he’d be about ten rum and pineapples deep.

A real party should be impossible to navigate, everyone sweaty and close together, the music too loud to talk over unless you were right against someone’s ear or yelling so loud your throat hurt the next day. The most difficult part of reaching Bastion was walking sideways between chairs so he didn’t have to disturb anyone sitting down, which was a total bummer. He’d seen Bastion at a party with his other PhD candidate friends and they could throw down. Fucking school ruining everything, he thought sourly, trying to keep his face neutral as he got closer.

Just like he’d predicted, he could hear the adviser talking to Bastion about his upcoming exam, which sounded like gibberish to Jaden. He knew what an integral was and the difference between speed and velocity but other than that he couldn’t keep up, no matter how many times he helped Bastion study.

Deciding it was best not to interrupt their discussion of stellar evolution, which would be a great name for a mixtape, he tried to formulate a plan of attack to stand between them without looking awkward as hell. Alexis and Bastion were too damn close though, which he normally thought was adorable because they were best friend science buddies and Bastion’s tie matched Alexis’ dress, which wasn’t relevant but still insanely cute, and there would be no way for him to stand there without squeezing in and being a disruption. He’d just have to stand by Bastion’s side and take his chances. Hopefully none of these academic wizards would want to talk to him because the only thing he knew well was dueling and that probably wouldn’t fly with these nerds.

Jaden loved nerds. Bastion was a massive nerd and he loved him a lot, especially when he got excited about something and he’d start rambling, sticking a pencil behind his ear and gesticulating (usually at an equation he’d written on his office wall) and Jaden was totally content to pay his tuition with that sweet, sweet dueling cash if it meant he got to see him so happy. Jaden loved that kinda nerd. These stuffy nerds were a different story, completely uncharted territory. They probably didn’t cry tears of happiness when they finished a hard problem and probably didn’t look up at the stars and talk about extraterrestrial life and how rad space travel would be. That was the flavor of nerd he was used to.

Bastion was in the middle of saying something about electrons when Jaden came to stand next to him, their shoulders brushing, announcing his presence in the most subtle way Jaden had ever cut into a conversation ever. Damn, he should be flouncing over, totally drunk, kissing Bastion in the middle of the ballroom and shouting that his boyfriend was mega smart and that tie would be used to bind Bastion to the headboard later. Instead he had a flute glass and was sliding an arm around his boyfriend, trying to be quiet and unassuming. What fucking alternate universe was he in?

 “—the expansion of—” Bastion stopped speaking to look down at Jaden, smiling once he realized it wasn’t some random person leaning on him. “Dr. Zweinstein, this is Jaden. I don’t think you two have met yet.”

Of course Bastion would be nice and make introductions.

“Hey,” Jaden switched the glass to his left hand so he could shake with his right. “Bas has told me a lot about you.”

Hopefully that counted as enough of a conversation. Bastion was very warm and his arm was now around Jaden, which was awesome because now he could lean into his boyfriend. Normally Jaden would talk more, but this whole situation was lowkey uncomfortable and he was out of his element given how fancy this gala was. Gala. What a dumb word. It sounded so fancy and exciting yet it was boring as hell.

“He’s told me about you as well,” Dr. Zweinstein spoke with a faint German accent and Jaden wondered if PhD programs only brought in people with sick accents to make them seem more exotic. Alexis was the only American he’d met in the parade of Bastion’s higher education friends. “You’re a duelist?”

“Yeah,” Jaden wanted them to go back to talking about physics. Zweinstein was the same height but he still felt like he was being looked down on, his eyes looking over the rim of his glasses and a faint downturn of his wrinkled old mouth. Yeah, that was about right. Bastion never made him feel like he was dumb or anything, except when he was being really dumb and that usually involved some scheme he and Syrus had cooked up that might risk them bodily harm or gastrointestinal discomfort.

“I’m sure that’s exciting.” Zweinstein didn’t sound genuine, more condescending.

Bastion must’ve sensed that things were about to go downhill. “Jaden has been a big help. I don’t think I would’ve passed your last exam without him.”

That was sweet, really, but Jaden had just graded a practice test, which didn’t involve anything but looking at the nicely circled x = whatever after an endless parade of calculus and checking them against an answer key. It’s not like he could help Bastion if he got in a real pickle, which is why he often saw his boyfriend dialing Alexis’ number at ass o’clock at night, standing in front of the wall where he’d attempted a problem with a worn-down pencil and tension in his shoulders.

“Oh, nonsense. You and Alexis are my best students. I think the two of you were born to do this.”

That was less sweet. The part about him helping Bastion being nonsense, that is. Bastion and Alexis were the best because they were Bastion and Alexis, so he could agree with that. Jaden shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling very defensive because he may not have been a braniac but he did try to help in whatever capacity he could. Fuck this stuffy ass gala.

He felt fingers nudging at him, and he looked over to see Alexis reaching behind Bastion and prodding his side, smiling at him. She looked exquisite in that dress, the gold matching her eyes and making her look like the absolute queen she was. Jaden overcame his extreme annoyance at Dr. Asswipe—it really was unfortunate the guy had been kinda dickish because Bas talked about him like the guy invented the sun—to smile at her. Damn the two of them for standing so close together he couldn’t squeeze in.

Honestly, that’s probably how everyone felt when he and Syrus were together, but that was different. Jaden and Syrus were the awesomest at parties and if Syrus were here instead of watching Alexis’ boyfriends duke it out on prime time television they could play a drinking game at least. Not like Bastion wouldn’t play drinking games with him, but since he was one of the guests of honor its not like he could get totally shitfaced. That was another reason this party sucked. Alexis and Bastion should be messes right now, needing to be scraped off the floor because it was their party and they deserved to celebrate like he did after winning a duel.

The conversation had blessedly switched away from Jaden and back to stars or whatever the “post AGB phase” was. It probably wasn’t too late to fake a stomachache, he thought as he sipped more of the prosecco, looking aimlessly into the crowd of people, half-listening to Bastion’s voice as he talked about shell burning (yet another great name for a mixtape), but Syrus’ text about being supportive echoed in his head. He could stick it out for Bastion.

It was hard, though, to listen to all these big words and not know anything about what was going on. If it were just the two of them, Jaden would interrupt and ask his boyfriend to explain something in very small words so he could at least sorta understand enough to be engaged, but they weren’t at home or in the car or even at Starbucks. Maybe he should’ve just stayed at the table and texted Syrus or tried to livestream Zane and Aster’s duel. The only good thing that had come out of leaving his seat was that Bastion’s arm was around him, keeping their sides pressed together, and that Bastion was clearly very excited about whatever they were talking about and he sounded so happy.

Taking another sip of wine, Jaden glanced up at his boyfriend, how he was smiling while saying huge-ass words that meant nothing to Jaden, who couldn’t spell ‘necessary’ or ‘license’ without googling it first. This was his element, this academic wasteland, devoid of personality and individualism, the only thing here facts and figures and research that took countless hours. The blazer felt itchy, restrictive, weighing heavily on his shoulders and making it hard to breathe. Jaden had never been in this part of Bastion’s world before. Usually the extent was watching him and several other students gathered around the coffee table or sequestered in the office, studying together or shooting the shit, and none of them had been this type of boring, flat, lifeless, damn near oppressive type of academic.

“Jaden.”

Zweinstein was speaking to him again, and Jaden halted his thoughts about how he was itchy and hot and overall uncomfortable to focus.

“Yeah?” He tried not to think of how he sounded raspy and lowkey kinda pathetic.

“Bastion says you were recently in Zurich.”

That wasn’t really recent, but yeah. “I had a tournament there a couple months ago. Nice place, but super cold.”

“I was just telling Bastion that we have several job openings in Zurich with one of our sister universities,” Zweinstein continued, still looking at Jaden over his glasses and he could’ve sworn the man was speaking slower, like he was unsure Jaden could understand him. The itchy, tight feeling intensified, and Jaden gripped onto the wine glass and tried to think of the way Chazz pitched a fit on television when Jaden had dropped his life points to zero last week. “I think it would be a good fit once he completes the program.”

A job? Overseas? There would be worse things, Jaden supposed. He wasn’t about to have a conversation about important life decisions right here, though. “That’s cool.”

“That’s a word for it.” Zweinstein drawled.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll probably end up staying around here.” Thankfully Bastion was there to speak again because Jaden was about ten seconds from smashing his glass in his turtle-looking face.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Zweinstein looked from Jaden to Bastion. “Though it is possible to be a duelist anywhere in the world. I hope you don’t let your partner’s career dictate yours.”

Jaden was hot, burning hot. The air was so thick it hurt to breathe, fingers twitching around the glass, and not even the feeling of Bastion’s hand squeezing his shoulder could calm the burning rage within him. Who the fuck was this man to stand here and insinuate that Jaden was—was holding Bastion back? Bastion had never said anything of the sort, not even implied it. Yeah, Jaden was loud and largely inappropriate and not book-smart and Bastion was proper and restrained and did Sudoku for fun but he would never, ever do anything knowing it would limit his boyfriend in his academic or career pursuits.

Coming over here was a mistake.

“’scuse me,” Jaden ducked out from under Bastion’s arm, needing to get away before he said something that would get him thrown out of this stupid-ass gala. His hip knocked into a table, jostling the silverware and startling the people sitting down, walking so fast the mostly-full glass was sloshing onto his sleeve, overcome with a burning need to get away from this gathering of pretentious fucks.

He knocked into more tables, tipping a chair over on its side as he made his exit. The door to the outside was his goal, as the night air would surely offer some sort of respite. Vaguely, he heard his name being called, but the blood was pounding in his ears and he couldn’t decipher who had called for him. It didn’t matter, as not even Bastion could make him go back to that horseshit conversation where he was being insulted for merely existing. What the fuck had he done to Zweinstein?

Pushing the ballroom door open with his shoulder and sloshing more wine onto the blazer, Jaden stepped into the hallway, hanging a right and heading for the exit doors where he could cool off and preferably stay outside until this nonsense was over. There were a couple of staff members standing by the door, and they opened it for him with a smile that he didn’t have it in him to return, finally stepping out and feeling like he was able to breathe once again.

It was easier to breathe but he was still hot and itchy. Sitting down on the top step, Jaden set down his glass and tore off the wine-soaked blazer, a passing thought of how it was his boyfriend’s and he should probably be more careful with it was silenced by angry thoughts of how he should summon Flame Wingman to burn this whole dumbass building down. Too bad he didn’t have his duel disk. That would’ve been satisfying. As long as Bastion and Alexis got out first.

Resting his head in his hands, acutely aware he looked like Cinderella, sitting here on the top of the steps after making a speedy exit from a ballroom, he heard Zweinstein’s words over and over again, taunting him. Was that it? Was the perception of their relationship that Jaden was somehow stunting Bastion’s professional and academic prospects?

Probably, another voice spoke up. They’d always been kinda an odd couple, proof that the old adage of ‘opposites attract’ wasn’t just a cliché. Jaden remembered when they’d first gotten together back in undergrad of how, while the squad had seen it coming for months and was totally cool with it, the other students at Duel Academy did make a few passing comments about how Bastion was ‘too good’ for him. It hadn’t bothered him back then because everything was shiny and new and he was totally gonna be a kickass pro duelist trophy boyfriend and Bastion was gonna name a star after him (something Bastion had actually said in a post-sex cuddle sesh, which had made Jaden feel enough love for the man to explode) and they were gonna prove everyone wrong. But now, feeling the air dance across his burning cheeks, staring down at the concrete steps, thinking about how the entire night he’d felt out of place, he entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was some merit to what Zweinstein had said. Bastion would probably do better with someone that could keep up with him in the braincell department, someone he could talk about his passions with that didn’t involve multiple interruptions to define terms.

Shit, this was stupid. Jaden looked up at the sky, thinking about how he sounded like a dumb teenager to himself but unable to shake the feeling that maybe this gala had revealed something crucial, something he’d never considered before. The wine he’d spilled on himself was starting to dry, making his skin feel sticky and tight, heightening the feeling of general discomfort that had settled into his skin and overtaken him from the second he’d stepped in the ballroom, raised to a fever pitch by that stupid doctor. Going back inside felt impossible though. Better to just sit out here and tamp down on these feelings, forget about this entirely. The steps were uncomfortable and there were still a few stragglers coming in, their eyes landing on him briefly before continuing their way up the stairs. It’d be better to wait in the car but Bastion had the keys and was almost pathological about locking doors, meaning he’d have to go back inside to get them. That wasn’t gonna happen unless Jaden got one free punch aimed at Zweinstein.

He’d sit out here, then. That’d be fine. He had most of his phone battery left and a backlog of updates from Syrus; plus if all else failed he could call Jesse to pass the time. Bastion and Alexis could enjoy the gala in their honor and Jaden wouldn’t get arrested for assault. It would be fine, he reassured himself, though he still heard the echoes of doubts and insecurities and the visions of Bastion galivanting around with another obscenely smart person that wouldn’t feel out of place in his world, would compliment him better. The Inner Bastion voice that had discouraged him from dancing on the table was now spouting out how it was illogical to feel these things when Bastion had never come close to implying that Jaden wasn’t enough for him, and he did his damnedest to listen to it. That proved to be difficult, the persistent itch under his skin and the heat in his face not caring that his Inner Bastion was right. Digging in the front pocket for his phone, he felt his fingers shaking, covered in a cold sweat, unable to grasp the device.

Fucking fine, then. He could just sit here. He could just chill out. He was the ultimate at chilling, had taught Bastion how to turn that brain off and enjoy himself.

“Jaden?”

Was that his Inner Bastion trying to get him to calm himself down and stop worrying about nothing? It sounded louder, more insistent now, like the real Bastion sounded when Jaden was about to down seven Coke floats because Syrus got through six before he puked.

“Jaden?”

That definitely wasn’t in his head. Twisting around, Jaden looked up to see Bastion coming out of the building, walking toward him, blazer open and swishing with his steps, tie off-kilter. What the hell was Bastion doing out here? He should be inside.

“What?” Bastion was standing in on the steps by him now, looking confused and worried. Shit, he must’ve said that out loud. “I’m not going to stand inside while you’re out here, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dude, this is your party.” Jaden felt a new wave of guilt for storming out and disrupting his boyfriend’s moment in the sun, especially after Bastion had spent an inordinate amount of time posing for pictures with Jaden after he won a duel or taken a red-eye flight to get back to the university in time for classes after joining him at a tournament. “Seriously, Bas. Get back in there.”

“Jaden,” Bastion was sitting down next to him, using that serious voice that Jaden recognized as the one meaning he wasn’t going to entertain an argument.

Jaden didn’t have anything to say that wasn’t going to be either argumentative or let these anxious, unfounded thoughts spill out, so he just huffed and stared straight ahead.

There was silence for a moment. Usually their silences weren’t uncomfortable as they’d been together far too long to feel the need to fill every moment with inorganic conversation. This was an uncomfortable silence and Jaden could feel Bastion looking at him, practically feel the way he was turning words over in his mind, wanting to broach the subject of that unfortunate encounter with his faculty adviser. Jaden didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it or not, really. If he made Bastion feel like he couldn’t interact with the person helping him complete his doctorate then he really would be holding him back just like Zweinstein said; if he didn’t say anything then he’d either have to abstain from coming to these uptight academic gatherings, maybe miss out on more important accomplishments, in order to not be subjected to this condescending bullshit.

This situation sucked.

“Jaden,” Bastion had apparently finished deciding how to begin.

“Yeah?”

“You won’t have to worry about Dr. Zweinstein saying anything else to you.”

“What?” Jaden looked over to him, feeling more guilt, more anxiety twisting his insides. “What’d you say to him? Bas, you better not have—”

“I told him to shove it.” Bastion interrupted, a slight smile breaking his face, eyes shining with amusement. “Not in as many words, but you know.”

“You told the guy who holds your future by the short and curlies to shove it?”

“Jaden, sweetheart,” Bastion’s arm wound around his shoulders, pulling him to his side. Jaden was slightly off-guard, feeling new heat rise to his cheeks at the pet name. His boyfriend didn’t use them often, didn’t really use nicknames either, referring to Alexis by her full name when everyone else said ‘Lex’, almost never calling him ‘Jay.’ Leaning his head against Bastion’s shoulder, feeling the fabric of his blazer against his cheek, he listened as Bastion continued. “I think you’ve overestimated the influence he has on me. I’m not so starstruck that I’m going to let him speak to you like that.”

That was probably the nicest, most political way for Bastion to say that he was overreacting. Maybe if Jaden had stayed a moment longer, hadn’t made a scene, he would’ve been able to see Bastion clap back. That would’ve been infinitely better than knocking over a chair and spilling wine everywhere.

“Do people,” Jaden tried to keep his voice steady, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning more heavily on Bastion’s side. “Do people say stuff like that a lot?”

“No,” Bastion’s cheek leaned on his head, breath moving his bangs as he sighed. “A few people have. They learn not to.”

“Thanks for defending my honor,” Jaden wanted to make it sound like a joke, lighten the mood and lift the weight that was settling inside him.

“I don’t need nor appreciate input on where I’ve chosen to lay my affections.”

“Maybe they’re right, you know.” Jaden couldn’t stop it from tumbling out, wincing a second later. That was pathetic. He sounded like the protagonist in that soap opera he’d binged last week at Syrus’ insistence, the two of them laid out on the couch, definitely not sober, laughing at how stupid and dramatic the script was. Now he was doing the same shit he’d mocked.

“No, they most definitely are not.”

The conviction in that statement jump-started his heart, making him lift up his head, staring into Bastion’s eyes. Protests were on the tip of his tongue, even as his Inner Bastion was telling him to listen to the Outer Bastion and not the flurry of irrational thoughts clouding his mind. They died as Bastion pulled him closer, reaching out to lay his hand over one of Jaden’s.

“I wanted you to come with me tonight. Not just because you’re my partner but because you’re my inspiration.” Bastion squeezed his hand and Jaden grabbed onto him, probably too tightly but his heart was pounding and his boyfriend’s hands were bigger and really warm and he needed the feeling of their palms pressed together to calm himself. “You’ve been so supportive of me, helped me even when you don’t understand, tolerated me staying up all night grading papers, and never complained about me repainting parts of the office when I run out of room to write on the walls. I wanted you to be here tonight. Dr. Zweinstein can take his opinions elsewhere.”

They were silent, just looking at each other, and Jaden felt like he should say something, but he couldn’t. His mind was blank, which was unfortunate because his heart was full and he wanted to thank Bastion for coming out here, for defending him, for being so perfect and wonderful, for being so loving. The anxieties and thoughts of not being enough, the image of Zweinstein staring at him over his glasses, those horrid fantasies of Bastion being with some nameless, faceless person in a lab coat—they all dissipated. They weren’t buried, just gone, like they’d never occupied his thoughts. His Inner Bastion was very smugly telling him that Jaden should’ve listened to him in the first place.

“How’d I get so lucky?” Jaden laughed, a real laugh, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend, pressing their lips together, feeling Bastion’s hand tighten around his own. Lingering for just a moment longer, he pulled back, resting their foreheads together, feeling lighter and happier and overwhelmingly content.

“I’m the lucky one.” Bastion smiled, tightening his hold on Jaden’s shoulders. “Will you come back inside with me?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jaden refrained from adding that if Zweinstein even looked at him the wrong way he’d throw a wine glass at him.

“Oh, here.” Bastion’s hold on him was gone and he was shrugging out of his blazer. “Take this.”

“Sorry,” Jaden looked down at the still-wet sleeves of his own blazer. “I’ll do laundry when we get home.”

“It’s quite alright. Please don’t do laundry. The last time you turned all of my white shirts gray.”

“Hey, come on,” Jaden stuck his tongue out, heard Bastion laughing at him. “I looked cute in that apron, though.”

“I’m not sure stapling hand towels together and tying them around your waist counts as an apron.”

“You aren’t denying that I looked cute.”

“No, I’m not.” Bastion helped Jaden out of his blazer, draping his own over Jaden’s shoulders.

There was something heavy in the front pocket of Bastion’s blazer, too big to be a phone, not jingly enough to be keys. “Babe?”

“Mmm?”

“What’s in here?”

“A flask.”

Bastion brought a flask? “I’m not complaining, babe, but, uh—why?”

“Well,” Bastion pushed up his sleeve to look at his watch, the one Jaden had gotten him for his birthday, the face decorated with little stars that glowed in the dark. “Alexis is giving a speech in about five minutes. Thought you might like to play a drinking game.”

“I’ve never been more in love with you than at this moment.” Jaden shot up, extending a hand to his boyfriend, who was laughing and looking perfect with that boring white shirt and eyes reflecting the starlight. “Let’s go back inside.”

[saint-of-los-angeles]

Don’t Go Away Mad

WOW HERE IT IS, THE LONGEST FIC I HAVE DONE. This fic was done with a coauthor, the beautiful, wonderful, talented @merryy-go-round. I’m seriously like proud of this fic and I know she is too. THANK YOU GIRL, I LOVE YOU!!!

Summery: “Tommy was dying, this had to be what death felt like. There was no other way to describe the feeling of impending doom that he was being crushed under at hearing those words. Those horrible words, uttered from a total fucking stranger’s mouth. Nikki was dead, he was gone forever, he would never look into his green eyes again.”

Another take on Nikki’s overdose and the impact it has on Tommy.

Warnings: Drug use, Overdose, general sadness. But y’all know I dont do sad endings.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx/ Tommy Lee

TAGGING A FEW PEOPLE I THINK MAY LIKE. (If you dont want tagged, feel free to message and tell me, I wont be offended I swear) @malibubarbievince @tommyysixx @the--blackdahlia @stellalux-universe @devil-shouted @sixx-tommy-roger-john @motherfucker-oftheyear @jenerallymarvelous @fan-with-issues

After a grueling press release for their upcoming album, Tommy was fucking drained, and all he wanted to do was go home, to Nikki’s, and soak up the last bits of peace before their upcoming tour began. Tommy lived for the moments where he could have the older man all to himself, when he could take the time to just study the bassist’s face and bask in the fact that he was his. Although the deeper Nikki sunk into his love affair with his liquid mistress, the farther in between these moments became.

Tommy tried so, so hard not to dwell on it, to just be happy with the time he did get with Nikki. Something was better than nothing right? They would be out of there in just a matter of minutes, if Vince would just stop fucking talking for once, and Tommy would be able to spend his night catching up on some much needed alone time with Nikki.

They didn’t have anywhere that they had to be until after Christmas day. This means Tommy gets to spend three whole days with his boyfriend, uninterrupted, which was a rare fucking feat in the crazy lives they lived. Tommy wondered if he should have the driver make a detour to stop by Nikki’s favorite restaurant to brighten his mood. He was getting way too fucking skinny, these days. Or maybe they could go to that new music store that the older man had mentioned a few weeks ago, anything, really to put a smile on Nikki’s face was fucking worth it to Tommy, a smile that he had put there, as compared to the one he gets when he’s melting down his liquid gold in a dirty spoon.

As he was mentally constructing up the perfect evening in his head, he was snapped out of his daydreaming by a rather loud sigh that rolled out from between the bassist’s lips. Nikki looked beyond impatient, and beyond ready for this press conference to just fucking end already, and to everyone else, it may look like Nikki was just ready to finally relax and get some fucking rest.  But Tommy wasn’t everyone else, and he felt the hope that he had in place for the ‘perfect night’ ahead of them extinguish like a match on a windy day.

Nikki could care less about getting out of here to spend time with Tommy, Nikki just wanted to get high.

Both men could feel the tension developing in their relationship around the time that the older man met his love affair in the form of heroin, and it was taking a toll on both of them. Before heroin, Tommy never really thought to worry about Nikki’s intake of illegal substances, because duh. Rockstars, remember?

Tommy had always previously seen the bassist as indestructible when it came to drugs. Nikki knew how to handle himself and had everything under perfect control, he had promised Tommy that he knew what he was doing and would never do anything to leave Tommy all alone. When Tommy thinks back to how fucking naive he was to think that anyone is above addiction, he has to laugh at himself. The drummer was always a little too optimistic, and maybe he still is.

Too optimistic about his relationship being perfectly normal, and healthy, and thinking things will work out on their own. Too optimistic, too stupid to realize that he has lost the Nikki that he fell so hard for, the Nikki that could look into his eyes and tell him he loved him more than anything and mean it. As much as Tommy knew he was living in a world of denial, he hoped that tonight, for just one night he could just close his eyes and pretend that he was still the most important thing in Nikki’s life.  

Nikki had been visibly irritated throughout the entire conference and Tommy barely refrained from rolling his eyes at the sight of Nikki’s clenched jaw and bouncing leg. He knew that look, he had seen it too many times over the past few months. Nikki just wanted to get the fuck out of there, so he could shoot up, and what else was new?

What had started out as yet another recreational drug to add to the long fucking list of drugs that Crue did on a daily basis, had turned into something much more sinister for the bassist, and Tommy couldnt even put a pinpoint to the moment that the drug had stolen his boyfriend, the love of his life, away from him. Maybe it was easier to ignore the alarming amount of track marks, and the always present slur in the man’s voice than to face the fact that the man he loved more than anything was a fucking junkie, and on his way to an early grave.

Before heroin, Nikki could sit and listen to Tommy ramble for hours about drum fills, how annoying his hair was being that day, how much he missed his parents, anything really. He’d sit there and listen to Tommy with a smile on his face and this look in his eyes like there was absolutely nowhere else he’d rather be.

These days, however, Tommy found himself fighting to be the center of attention for more than just a few minutes. Nikki had found a new subject of affection, and from the looks of it, the bassist probably hasn’t shot up since before they got to the conference building, which was over 4 hours ago.

As the press conference finally came to a close, thanks for finally shutting up Vince, Tommy frowned as he studied his boyfriend a little more closely. He could see the sheen of sweat that coated Nikki’s face as the bassist stood and then turned to shoot him a quick, almost nervous glance. It was the look that Tommy had seen 100 times, it was nerves mixed with guilt and it always meant that Tommy wasn't going to like what Nikki had to say.

“Hey babe, I’m gonna head out. Slash invited me out to this thing and you said you wanted to go home and crash so...” He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders and avoiding eye contact at all cost. Tommy scoffed loudly causing Nikki to shoot him a surprised glance.

Tommy rarely objected to these things, knowing it was a losing battle anyway, and being too afraid to send the older man scattering away to a hiding spot that he would eventually die in, but something about Nikki’s tone, as if he expected Tommy to just be totally fine with being ditched had Tommy unable to bite his tongue this time.

“Yeah, as in go home and crash with you,” Tommy began as he stood, stepping in front of the exit to prevent the other man from leaving. “My boyfriend who hasn’t spoken more than ten sentences to me today. Seriously you can’t go one fucking night with choosing me over shooting that fucking poison into your neck, Nik?” Tommy’s sharp tone surprised even himself, as stared down into the slightly shorter man’s eyes.

All of the feelings of fear, frustration and anger that Tommy had been suppressing for months seemed to come to the surface and it surprised him as much as it surprised Nikki. The older man’s eyes reflected the hurt and confusion at his words, who then was shushing him when he noticed the stares from various bystanders who were still lingering around the large room.

Tommy continued speaking without bothering to lower his voice. “What Nikki? Don’t want everyone to think you’re some sort of junkie?” The words felt cruel coming out of his mouth and he almost instantly felt sick to his stomach saying the word “junkie” to Nikki, but he couldn’t back down now. He watched the other man still at his words and watched as his expression shifted from confused to pissed.

“You know what Tommy, fuck you. I don’t need your fucking permission. Just fuck off.” The bassist was sneering at Tommy as he twirled around to leave.

“Hey, we aren’t done with this!” Tommy started as he reached to grab Nikki’s shoulder to spin him around to face the drummer’s fiery eyes once again. Tommy was a little shocked over his own actions, where did this wave of anger come from? They had small arguments all the time, they were both passionate, headstrong people, but things never escalated to the point where things were unmendable. If Tommy stopped now things would go back to how they were, and they would just ignore that this ever happened. But no, fuck that, Tommy was upset, he had been for fucking months and he had held it in for as long as he could, and now that he had let a little out, he couldnt seem to reel in his emotions.

Nikki looked just as shocked as Tommy did, but underneath his bewildered expression at the treatment he was receiving from his usually happy and carefree boyfriend, was the desperation of an addict that just wanted to fucking shoot up already, and Tommy was preventing that.

“Yes we fucking are Tommy, I’m done with this conversation, Slash is waiting for me, I’ll see you later.” Tommy could hear the barely restrained anger bubbling under Nikki’s words and something about that irked him to no end. How dare Nikki be upset, when he’s the one leaving Tommy to go home alone for the thousandth fucking time, so that he can go inject some poison into his veins?

“Nikki, if you fucking leave, don’t expect me to be there when you get home.” The words felt foreign and WRONG on Tommy’s lips. Part of him wanted to immediately retract the statement and hug Nikki, because back when Nikki and him had first admitted their feelings, Nikki had admitted in a moment of pure trust and love that Tommy leaving him was always his worst fear. Tommy always promised him that nothing he could do would ever push him away. But Tommy was so angry, and above anything else, he was hurt that Nikki would put some amber liquid in a needle above him,  who had always been there for him, even when the bassist was terrified of love and tried pushing him away.

"I swear if you leave then I am done with this shit. I can’t watch you do this anymore. You are killing yourself, you do realize that right? I mean, fuck Nikki, I don’t know if I would have fallen in love with you if you were this person when we met.”

Tommy watched as Nikki’s shocked expression turned into pure hurt for a split second, before morphing into the most venomous sneer Tommy had ever seen from Nikki. He knew before the words were out of his mouth that he had gone too far. Nikki had barely been controlling his anger before, but at the harsh words it was as if a switch was flipped.

His loving boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Tommy had never felt afraid of Nikki before, but the look of pure disbelief and fear mixed with anger and confusion was enough to scare him. Tommy could tell that Nikki had completely shut down at this point, and could see the tremors the man was succumbing to, whether it was from the need for drugs, or from holding back his anger, he didn’t know.

Tommy would prefer a punch straight to the face rather than see the pain that he caused on the elder’s features, it would be substantially less painful.

Even Mick, who had been sitting awkwardly on one of the plush couches that the pair had just been occupying even looked shocked at the explosion that seemed to come from nowhere.

Tommy was about to speak again, the overwhelming feelings of guilt and regret immediately replacing the feelings of anger. He was just hurt, and he wanted to just tell Nikki that, how he felt like sometimes he couldn’t fucking breathe when he thought about Nikki out there shooting up a substance that could end his life one day, but Nikki beat him to it.

“You know what, you’re right, Tom. I have changed, and maybe I’m tired of having a boyfriend who just bitches about everything I do instead of having any fucking fun. Thanks for the fucking reality check, babe.” Nikki all but ground out with eyes hardening more and more, the more he spoke. “If you’ll excuse me, I have important business to tend to. You know how us junkies are.” Tommy could barely hear the crack in the older man’s voice that caused his heart to ache, and all he wanted to do was just take it back.

Before Tommy could get his mouth to connect with his brain Nikki was already storming off in the direction of the exit. Using his shoulder to push past the stunned drummer, roughly jolting him to the side.

Mick stared in silence at the youngest member of the band, when Vince decided that he finally wanted to grace the rest of them with his presence, all smiles as he bounded over to Tommy, throwing a casual arm around his shoulder. “Guess we can ditch this place, yeah? Dude, where’s Nikki?”

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After a quiet explanation of the bassist’s whereabouts, Tommy allowed himself to be drug along to Vince’s favorite strip club, and honestly he was grateful for the distraction. He had never been so appreciative of Mick’s non-prying nature and Vince’s absolute inability to worry about anything that doesn’t directly affect his life. If he had gone to his empty apartment he was sure he would be driven mad by the constant replay of the look of betrayal and hurt on Nikki’s face in his mind. So here he sits with his fifth- no sixth?- whiskey sour and he wants more than anything to press rewind and take everything back.

Now that he had calmed down and had time to process what the fuck had happened, and the words exchanged, he was left with such intense feelings of self loathing that he was sure that he would collapse under the pressure if not for the barstool he was currently sat on. Why did he snap at Nikki like that?

Despite Nikki’s shitty attitude and distant nature lately, he knew deep down that Nikki was really sick, and he had always been bad at expressing love in relationships, why should this relationship be any different? Tommy wanted to help Nikki through his issues, not make them worse.

Tommy had already started making plans to apologize to Nikki as soon as possible when his world suddenly changed forever. He didn’t process the words when he heard them, he just blankly looked up to stare at these three dudes talking amongst themselves, arms waving dramatically in what appeared to be disbelief.

“Dude, did you hear?”

“Nikki Sixx overdosed on smack dude, he was hanging out with Slash from Guns and Roses, he’s the one who found him.”

“Shut up”

“I swear, dude, so long Motley Crue, huh? Fucking sucks, I loved them.”

No.

Nikki didn’t overdose, not even in Tommy’s worst fucking nightmares did Nikki overdose. Nikki swore he’d never leave him, swore he had it under control. How the fuck did these guys know Nikki was with Slash tonight? This wasn’t true, this couldn’t be fucking true, but everything in Tommy’s gut was telling him it was.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK?

Tommy was dying, this had to be what death felt like. There was no other way to describe the feeling of impending doom that he was being crushed under at hearing those words. Those horrible words, uttered from a total fucking stranger’s mouth. Nikki was dead, he was gone forever, he would never look into his green eyes again, and what was the last thing that Tommy had even said to Nikki? It sure as hell wasn’t ‘I love you’ or anything that would have told the bassist that he was Tommy’s entire universe, because he was goddamnit.

No, his last words were spoken in rage and Tommy didn’t think he could handle this much, he was choking, he was dying, but death would be preferable at this point, because his options were either die, or live a life without Nikki.

Not even feeling or acknowledging the tears on his cheeks that fell from his puffy eyes, Tommy brought a hand up and put it over his chest, feeling his heart pump pump pumping under his fingertips and let out what could only be described as a primal wail.

He willed his heart to fall still under his fingers because nothing could be worse than this, nothing could be worse than this raw, gnawing pain that seemed to start in his chest and overtake his whole being. He could feel Vince’s hand on his shoulder, but the touch of comfort only burned him. He didn’t want the comfort, he didn’t want to feel comfort in a world where Nikki no longer existed.

Vince was definitely yelling his name now, lightly smacking his cheek in a sorry attempt to get him to snap out of the trance he had fallen in, but Tommy felt like he was underwater. Everything was coming out muffled, his ears felt stuffed full and most of all he felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of the information he had just learned from these total fucking strangers.

Tommy forced himself to make eye contact with his lead singer, taking in the unshed tears in the blonde’s eyes that were overflowing with a mixture of grief for his late bandmate, and overwhelming concern for the one he left behind.

He wanted to talk to Vince, to lie and tell him that he was okay but he needed to go process this information alone, but he just couldn't bring his brain to form a coherent lie. He opened his mouth to speak, and all that came out were strangled sobs as he reached up to grab fistfuls of his own hair, tugging on the dark locks out of pure desperation. He felt Vince’s hands under his armpits, and he realized he must have been falling at some point, struggling to keep his own feet underneath him, but it was like all his body even knew how to do in this moment was cry.

“Tommy- Jesus Christ man- I don’t- I’m so fucking sorry- I…” Vince looked absolutely lost, completely unsure what to say, and wrecked if Tommy was being honest, and despite really wanting to comfort his friend of so many years, because Vince had lost Nikki too, Tommy did the only thing he physically could at the moment- he told Vince the truth.

“I- I wish I was fucking dead too, Vin- I can’t…”

Tommy regretted allowing that feeling to slip past his lips immediately as he looked into the widening eyes of his frontman, and as Vince opened his lips to respond, Tommy was turning and sprinting out of the club, shoving past anyone in his way. He could vaguely hear Vince yelling his name behind him and the fading sound of Vince’s boots pounding behind him.

Tommy was gratefu thatl the adrenaline and his longer legs could get him the fuck out of there, away from Vince’s worried eyes, away from those strangers who knew that his boyfriend was dead before he even did, and away from that nightmare of a club.

He knew he’d never be able to step foot in that place ever again.

—-

Tommy wasn’t sure how he even made it to Nikki’s house, honestly. Everything leading up to this moment was a blur in time, making Tommy question how long it had even been since he heard the devastating news.

Not that it mattered, time had no meaning to the drummer anymore.

Raising his hand to knock on the door, the younger man stopped himself and let out a sob at the realization that there was no fucking point in knocking. No one lived here anymore.

So Tommy took out his spare key instead, the metal seemingly burning in his hands as he opened the door to the house he had entered so many times, but now that would never be the same.

There would be no more late night conversations in this house, no more early morning make out sessions- morning breath and all. No more hiding out in Nikki’s music room, writing lyrics and banging out drum fills until the sun rose through the tall windows of Nikki’s second story. No more pathetic attempts at surprising Nikki with brunch- only to set off every single fire alarm the bassist had in the house. No more smiling, no more laughter, no more making love.

Not in this house and not anywhere in the drummer’s life, ever again.

Tears were giving way to anger at this point. Anger at himself for not just flushing all of Nikki’s shit, anger at Nikki for not just coming home with him tonight, and anger at the universe for taking the best thing in Tommy’s life and keeping it somewhere where he would never be able to reach.

That anger needed an outlet, and that outlet came in the form of absolutely destroying anything that the drummer could get his hands on. Everything pissed him off to look at. Everything in this house was just a horrible reminder of what he had lost and in that moment, Tommy wanted everything to feel just as wrecked as he did.

Ignoring the sting in his hands as he threw various vases, records, and other breakable objects against the walls, Tommy was oblivious to the tears that flowed from his eyes as his fist made contact with the TV screen and his foot kicked a sizable hole in his late boyfriend’s drywall.

Tommy’s chest was heaving with the struggle to take in air as he knelt on the floor in the wreckage he had created. Nikki’s place was unrecognizable, and he could feel his knees stinging from the sharp prick of the broken glass he was kneeling in- and where the fuck did that come from, anyway?

Tommy could finally see the scene around him, as his body had run out of tears. The tears had dried up, his body had no more to give, but the sobs remained, choking him in a vice like grip around his throat, and all Tommy could think was he wished that these sobs could actually choke him to death, so he could see Nikki and tell him that he loved him, and that he didn’t mean a goddamn word he said when they had all those stupid fucking fights.

As Tommy continued to survey the scene around him, he noticed a baggie poking out from underneath Nikki’s couch, and he knew instantly what that baggie contained.

Heroin was never his drug of choice, he preferred the euphoric burst of energy and unbridled emotions that cocaine gave him. Tommy loved feeling emotions, everything he felt, he felt in excess, it had always been that way, so the synthetic effects of cocaine on his emotions were always a good time to the drummer.

At first, Tommy could feel nothing but all encompassing anger surging through his veins the longer he looked at the corner of that baggie, because that evil shit took his Nikki away, but the more Tommy thought about it, the more he realized that Nikki took those drugs because they numbed him, and there was nothing on this Earth that Tommy wanted more than for this pain to go away.

It was as if his body was on autopilot, and he was now standing with the small bag clenched in his fist, relishing in the sting of his fingernails digging into his palm. He shuddered as his choking sobs dwindled down to hiccups. What was the point of life without Nikki anyways? How the fuck would he ever feel joy again after this night? Tommy just wanted for everything to just stop.

Tommy had only done this devil drug once before, the curiosity surrounding the drug turned into an impulse decision one late night a few months prior, in this very house, with the very man he was mourning.

Tommy was laying on Nikki’s bed, watching as the bassist started to nod off from the drugs injected only moments ago. Tommy frowned at the sight of the bloody needle now laying loosely in the man’s open fist, the object mesmerized the drummer. That tiny object brought his boyfriend so much pleasure, he was almost jealous.

“What does it feel like?” The younger man asked, not for the first time. He was always curious, the euphoric look on Nikki’s face after shooting up had always seemed to outdo any other drug that he subjected himself to, and Tommy just wanted to know what the hype was about.

“You wanna find out?” Nikki had murmured back, his response slightly delayed as his cloudy mind processed the other man’s words. Even in his hazy state, it took the bassist by surprise when Tommy stated that he did, in fact, want to shoot up.

Tommy didn’t remember much from that night aside from Nikki’s still hands calming his shaking arm, nerve’s wracking his lanky frame as the older man plunged the liquid poison into his veins.

He also remembered Nikki’s hands rubbing up and down his back, holding his hair back, and Nikki’s voice soothing him as he emptied his stomach into the toilet for what must have been the 5th time that night.

After that night Tommy had sworn to never use heroin again. He didn’t like the nausea or the feeling of being numb. He didn’t understand why Nikki would ever want to feel so empty all of the time, but right now, it seemed like Tommy’s only way out of this nightmare.

With shaking hands Tommy moved to the closet where he knew Nikkis kept his rigs and clean needles. With a pang in his chest he wondered if he should have fought harder to stop his boyfriend from destroying himself, if as angry as he had been with Nikki this whole time, if this was actually his fault all along. If he could have saved the bassist from himself after all, if he had just flushed his shit and forced him into rehab.

The thought of that was too painful to bear.

Having watched Nikki do this so many times Tommy felt almost proud of himself in a sick way for knowing exactly how to do this. Taking the now prepared syringe over to Nikki’s well worn in couch he sat on the floor with his back resting against the couch, and took a deep breath. A quick, borderline hysterical laugh escaped his lips as he realized he was really going to do this.

He was such a fucking hypocrite.

For the first time in his life, Tommy relished in the pain that came from prick of the needle instead of cringing away from it, because it was the first time since hearing the news that Tommy felt anything besides the pain of losing Nikki.

As he pushed the plunger down Tommy relished in the warm escape, taking note of the lack of nausea he felt this time.

‘Hey maybe Nikki was right, it does go away.’ Tommy’s hand fell away loosely and his head lolled forward as the drugs coursed through his veins, and he felt his overwhelming emotional pain ebb away into an undeniable bliss.

The last coherent thought that Tommy had before succumbing to the warm darkness around him was of piercing green eyes and long black hair.

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Nikki’s first thoughts upon waking up in the hospital were of Tommy. Of course they were, he loved that boy, and he had said horrible fucking things to him, he missed him, he needed him.

He felt alone for the first time since Tommy and he had made themselves official.

He didn’t focus on anything the doctors were saying, didn’t listen to their cries of protest as he ripped  out his IV, feeling the blood dripping down to his wrist for the second time that day, to shove his way out of the hospital doors before anyone could keep him longer, preventing him from seeing the only thing that could really heal him at the moment. He wanted, no needed, to see Tommy to explain for himself what had happened, that it had been an accident, he never meant to leave him. He couldn’t imagine if the roles were reversed, and he was under the impression that the love of his life had died without him and with a needle in his arm.

The thought made him sick.

His first thought was to go straight to Tommy’s place, but when he arrived, his heart dropped when he saw that the other man’s car was nowhere to be found. Shaking his head in defeat, he used his key to enter anyway, disappointed but not surprised when he found the apartment empty and dark. Rushing into the kitchen, he picked up Tommy’s phone and dialed his own phone number, slamming the phone down in frustration when he hit his own voicemail.

Nikki took a deep breath and dialed Vince’s number, hoping that the singer might know the whereabouts of his missing boyfriend.

Tommy didn’t know it, but Nikki had asked Vince several times in rare moments of drunken vulnerability to always watch after Tommy if he couldn't, and he prayed that the singer had held up his promise that he would.

“Tommy! Jesus fuck, man, thank god you’re okay.” That was not what Nikki had hoped to hear, and the crack in Vince’s intensely relieved voice did nothing to sooth the burning pit in his stomach when he learned that no- Tommy wasn’t with Vince, and he seemed pretty fucking worried about the drummer.

“Listen, Tommy, it was a big fucking misunderstanding. Just stay there and I’m gonna come over there right now and we can go to the hospital-” Nikki couldn't listen to anymore of this, and cut the other man off before he could continue.

“Wait up, Vince, it’s me.” Shocked silence met Nikki’s ear in reply, and god dammit Vince, you choose now to shut up?

“It’s Nikki, Vin. I’m trying to find Tommy, where the fuck is he? Why wouldn’t he be okay?” The bassist could hear the desperation in his own voice as he spoke, and willed Vince to open his fucking mouth because one more minute of not knowing where his scared, hurting boyfriend was was probably going to kill him and-

“Nikki? Oh god, you fucking idiot, it’s so good to hear your voice. I don't know what to do, Nik, Tommy lost his shit on me when he heard you were dead, and has been missing ever since. I’ve never seen him like that, he kept talking all this nonsense about wanting to die too, he ran and he was too fucking fast that long legged motherfucker-” Nikki slammed the phone down back onto it’s base not even bothering to respond as sprinted out the front door and hailed the first taxi that came by, spewing out the address to his home in Van Nuys. He hoped that he would find Tommy at the place that held the majority of their memories.

He also hoped he didn’t fucking puke on the way there, because the thought of Tommy running away after finding out his boyfriend was dead and talking about wanting to join him made Nikki’s stomach lurch more than his own overdose ever could.

Upon arriving at his house, he knew that something was off when he noticed that his front door was unlocked. Now on high alert he walked slowly through the threshold and paused, shocked at the sight in front of him.

The house was absolutely trashed. Not in a ‘party that got too out of hand’ way though, no this was done with intent. Before he could dwell too much on the state of his place he noticed a figure on his couch and the image before him would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Nikki swore his heart stopped for the second time that day upon seeing his boyfriend slumped against the couch, needle sticking out of his arm with blood dried all the way down to his wrist, looking all but dead with his skin a shade paler than normal, and his dark hair falling in front of his face.

Nikki wanted to move, wanted to go shake shake shake Tommy until he woke up, until he saw those beautiful brown eyes that he never failed to get lost in, but his feet were glued to the floor.

This was his fucking fault.

He chose to blow the love of his fucking life off for fucking heroin, continued to do so for fucking months, got himself killed, and wouldn’t it be so fucking ironic if Nikki was given a second chance at life, only to find Tommy dead from a drug overdose?

It was like the universe knew that the only thing worse to Nikki than being dead, is not having Tommy, and it wasn’t hesitating to throw that terrifying piece of information right into Nikki’s face.

Begging his feet to move, his body finally listened to his brain as he stumbled towards Tommy, falling forward onto his hands and knees to crawl himself towards the drummer, fear still knotting up his gut.

His fingers itched to touch Tommy, to move the hair out of his face, feel his neck for a pulse, do something, ANYTHING. It took his mind a few seconds to convince his body to move, and Nikki sobbed in relief when his fingertips came into contact with a warm, very much alive cheek.

Suddenly feeling as if he had control of his body again, Nikki was pulling the needle out of his boyfriend's arm gently, as if moving too quickly could harm the drummer despite his unconscious state. Looking at the drummer's slack face had hot, fat tears running down the older man's face for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Pulling Tommy into his arms, feeling the familiar weight that he had held in his embrace for so many nights was almost too much for Nikki. His own trauma that he had endured that night, as well as looking at the pain that he had caused the love of his life made holding tears in impossible. He made no effort to hold back his sobs as he sniffled, and felt concern bubble up when Tommy let out no acknowledgment of his presence other than a soft grunt that could have easily been missed if the bassist hadn't been so hyper aware of everything involving his boyfriend at the moment.

Tommy hated smack, Nikki knew that. He didn't like the way smack made him feel and he didn't like that it took Nikki away from him, and the needle laying a few feet away where Nikki had tossed it and the blood staining Tommy's arm was a horrible reminder that he did this to Tommy.

Nikki knew he should move Tommy off of the filthy ground, get him out of this mess of debris and broken glass, but for the moment he was just going to hold him, and bury his face in his hair to dry the tears off of his cheeks. Inhaling with a small smile at the pleasant smell that wafted from the drummer’s hair, Nikki pushed his face a little deeper into it to try to get more, as if the smell could take away the absolute shitshow that was going on around him.

Tommy had just gotten a new shampoo recently, and Nikki remembered how much Tommy's eyes had lit up when Nikki commented on it, as if he couldn't believe that the bassist had noticed. Which was fair, considering he barely noticed anything other than when his smack supply was getting low these days.

So Nikki sat there, holding his boyfriend and praying- yes praying- that wherever Tommy was in his heroin induced haze he knew that he wasn't alone.

That Nikki was here, he didn't leave him all alone.

That despite Nikki's harsh words and distant attitude lately, he fucking loved him, and he was so, so sorry. As he sat there holding the younger boy, he finally had the chance to survey the destruction around them. He couldn’t picture his loving and kind Tommy possessing enough anger to cause this big of a mess. His eyes widened as he noticed that among the shattered whiskey bottles and- jesus, was that his record collection?- sat the collection of, now broken, awards that Motley had won over the years.

Could Tommy really love Nikki so much that the news of his ‘death’ could cause this much of a reaction?

Reaching down to cup the drummers lax face in his hand Nikki felt his tears return as he realized that his death would have an effect on his sweet boy. This had to end, because while Nikki could live with killing himself, at least this version of himself, he knew there was no part of him in this life or the afterlife that could live with killing Tommy.

As badly as Nikki’s fingers itched to go find whatever smack he had left in the house and shoot it to bury this overwhelming guilt at seeing his boyfriend passed out from a drug he despised in the middle of all this wreckage, instead Nikki was standing, picking up his lover’s lank form in his arms to make his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

Carrying Tommy proved to be harder than anticipated because despite the drummer’s naturally skinny form, Nikki’s own body had gotten dangerously thin these days due to his diet which consisted entirely of drugs.

Nevertheless, Nikki made it up the stairs on sheer willpower alone- he was NOT letting Tommy sleep in that fucking wreckage. Laying Tommy on top of the covers as gently as he could, supporting his boyfriend’s lulling head, Nikki wanted to cry at just how much Tommy looked like he was just sleeping.

So peaceful. But of course he was peaceful. Tommy was in a world where his boyfriend was alive, hadn’t overdosed on heroin, hadn’t selfishly chose drugs over someone he claimed to love every single fucking day.

Nikki lay down beside Tommy, gently rolling Tommy over so he could spoon him from behind, holding him tightly to his chest just like he did every night when he slept.

Nikki let his tears fall, hoping and praying that when Tommy woke up, he would recognize the familiarity of their position, and recognize the arms that held him like this.

Nikki pressed a kiss into Tommy’s hair on the back of his head, trying desperatly to keep his tired eyelids open as he listened to his boyfriend’s breathing, wondering how the fuck he was going to fix this, how he was going to remedy this situation when he didn’t even deserve Tommy in the first place.

——-

When Tommy’s eyes blearily opened hours later, the first thing that registered was- fuck his head hurt. The second thing that registered was the flood of overwhelming emotions and the sting of hot tears when he remembered the events of the previous night. The third thing that registered that he was in Nikki’s bed and someone was behind him, holding on for dear life- but wait- he knew those arms and it couldn't be true-

Turning over in the tight hold the older man had on him, Tommy felt lightheaded as his eyes met the shimmering green ones that he had been chasing in his split second decision to shoot up Nikki’s remaining stash.

Nikki looked horrible, he was covered in a sheen of sweat that Tommy very clearly recognized as the withdrawal sweats, and his eyes were bloodshot from what looked like a combination of exhaustion and tears.

“I’m dead”. Tommy croaked out, because that was the only reasonable explanation. This had to be heaven, but fuck, who let heaven give him such a bad fucking migraine? Or maybe it was hell, and they let him wake up in Nikki’s arms, only to drag him away later. Tommy didn’t think he could survive that though, even in hell.

An appropriate punishment though, for allowing his boyfriend to die thinking Tommy didn’t want him around anymore.

Tommy watched Nikki’s face contort with the most pained expression he had ever seen from the bassist, and his breath caught when Nikki shook his head.

“You’re not dead, baby boy, and neither am I.”

Tommy couldn't speak, so he settled for just staring into Nikki’s eyes. His beautiful green eyes, that were always Tommy’s favorite part of Nikki. They looked so real and so alive, but Tommy was afraid to believe.

“They brought me back baby, the EMT’s brought me back. I’m… I’m so fucking sorry.”

From there it was all fists clenched into T-shirt’s, tears soaking into hair, sobs getting lost into shoulders and hurried kisses pressed against heated skin.

“This won’t happen again baby.. You.. you mean so much more to me than anything, Tommy, anything, and I swear I’m getting off of this shit for you.”

“I didn’t mean it Nik, not a goddamn fucking word-“

“Stop baby, you don't have to explain, I know. It was all me, I was an asshole, I put the thing that was gonna fucking kill me above the thing trying to save me, and I’m so sorry, I swear to fucking god Tommy, never again.”

Tommy pulled his head out of its hiding spot in Nikki’s shoulder, and one look at the bassist’s teary, but determined face let Tommy know that yeah, Nikki meant it. He was so used to Nikki’s lying face by now, the face he gets when he just tells Tommy what he wants to hear, and this isn’t it.

So Tommy thumbed away his boyfriend’s tears, feeling his own slip down his face as he pressed a desperate, longing kiss to Nikki’s lips, smiling as he felt them tremble as they pushed back with just as much desperation.

And just like that, Tommy could breathe again.

[enbyleighlines]

Hey dont know if you are still taking prompt suggestions but I would love to read MDZS Modern AU! Wei Wuxian & Jiang Yanli - Boyfriends. If you are done with prompts, thanks for all the wonderful fills!

Hey! I am absolutely still taking prompts, please and thank you~

This is actually the final prompt left in my ask box, so feel free to fill it up again! I’m having a wonderful time with this modern mdzs au!

—

Jin Yanli is out in the garden when Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan arrive for their playdate. Jin Zixuan greets them at the front door, and then just tells them to go around through the side gate.

It’s a bright day, with a refreshing breeze. A-Yuan rushes forward towards the backyard fence, kicking up dandelion fluff in his wake.

Wei Wuxian chuckles, and walks a little bit slower just to tease the kid. He knows that A-Yuan isn’t yet tall enough to reach the latch, so he can’t enter the backyard until Wei Wuxian opens the gate for him.

“Hurry up, Xian-gege!” A-Yuan calls over, bounding in place, reminding him of some sort of cartoon bunny.

(Ever since Wei Wuxian moved in with Lan Wangji, rabbits have never been far from his mind. Lan Wangji’s passion for the animal is rubbing off on him, apparently.)

“Okay, okay,” Wei Wuxian replies, slowing his gait even more, “Hold your horses.”

“Xian-gege!” A-Yuan pouts, enraged.

It’s impossible to take his anger seriously, though. Wei Wuxian starts laughing, watching with delight as A-Yuan’s lower lip juts out even further.

But Wei Wuxian also takes pity on the poor child. He reaches over the door to unlatch it without another word.

As soon as the door swings open, A-Yuan is bolting forward at full speed again. He runs over to where Jin Ling is pushing around a toy truck around the sandbox.

“A-Xian,” Jin Yanli says, standing up from her crouching position, “Hello!”

“Jiejie!” Wei Wuxian is suddenly twenty years younger. He leaps into her embrace, nuzzling his face into her shoulder.

She giggles at his antics. “A-Xian, how have you been?”

Wei Wuxian knows exactly what she wants to know. He heaves a loud, lovesick sigh and tells her, “I’m so happy, Jiejie! Wangji is the best boyfriend. He spoils A-Yuan and me rotten.”

A few days ago, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had kissed for the first time. Upon waking, Wei Wuxian immediately texted his Jiejie, along with everyone else he knew. His declaration had received many different responses. Jin Yanli’s reply was the most ecstatic, though. Though they indeed set up this playdate for the kids, the idea had originated from an ulterior motive. Wei Wuxian wants to gush about his new boyfriend, and Jin Yanli is all too happy to listen.

Jin Yanli pulls away to look Wei Wuxian in the face. “I’m glad you found someone you is willing to spoil you,” she says, “My A-Xian deserves nothing less.”

Wei Wuxian leans his cheek on her shoulder, which is awkward, because he’s long since grown taller than her. “He makes me so happy, Jiejie,” he whispers, wanting to make her understand just a fraction of the immense love he holds in his heart for Lan Wangji.

Jin Yanli’s smile softens. Then she pulls further away to say, “I made us some tea. Let’s sit down, and you can tell me everything.”

And so they do. Wei Wuxian barely pays his cup any mind. He is too busy blabbering— about the few dates they’ve been on, about Lan Wangji’s cutest habits, about all the thoughtful little things Lan Wangji does to show he cares.

“And what about you?” Jin Yanli asks during a pause, “Relationships are a two-way street. What have you been doing to show you care, A-Xian?”

Wei Wuxian thinks. “Well...” he begins, “I tell him how handsome he is! Every day! And I thank him for everything he does around the apartment. And... well.” Here Wei Wuxian hesitates, uncharacteristically shy. “I tried to write him a love poem, because he loves poetry, but... it turns out I’m not good at writing poems.”

Jin Yanli giggles demurely into her wrist. “Ah, A-Xian,” she teases, “You have been bitten hard by the love bug, I see.”

“Do you blame me?” Wei Wuxian flails his arms, flustered. “Wangji... he’s so good,” he murmurs, stricken with the sheer force of his affection, “He’s really... such a good man. I knew I was gone the moment he offered to foster A-Yuan, so he could have a permanent home. And— and he can be so ridiculous! He calls me ridiculous but you should hear about some of the things he says and does! He named his bunnies Cabbage and Carrot! He hasn’t even flinched at the any of the horror movies I’ve shown him, but the first time we watched a cheesy romcom, he got so flustered that he muted the kissing scene!”

Wei Wuxian grabs Jin Yanli’s hand, desperate to make her understand. “I love him so much, Jiejie,” he says, “I know it’s only been like four days, but I’m so in love with him!”

“You’ve known him for how long?” Jin Yanli shakes her head, visibly amused.

“Hmmm...” Wei Wuxian thinks back to their first encounter. “We met in high school, freshman year... when we were both fourteen. Ah! And we’re twenty-four now!” Wei Wuxian jolts back at the realization. “A decade! It took me ten whole years to kiss Lan Wangji!”

Jin Yanli laughs. “Well, better late than never,” she points out.

Wei Wuxian is not so easily soothed, though. He sticks out his bottom lip and pouts. “I can’t believe it. I could have been kissing Wangji as far back as high school! We could have gone to senior prom together! We could be married by now!”

“It’s no good to dwell on what-if’s, A-Xian,” Jin Yanli says, “Remember how long it took for Zixuan to return my feelings?”

“That’s because he is— was an idiot.”

“And now we’re married, and we have A-Ling.” She looks off towards her son, practically radiating contentment. “Focus on what you have right now, so you can savor every minute.”

Wei Wuxian follows her gaze.

The boys are building a sand castle. Or so Wei Wuxian assumes. It mostly just looks like a heap of sand with some twigs poking out of the top.

“Jiejie,” Wei Wuxian says, “I... I want to ask Wangji if we can adopt A-Yuan for real.”

If Jin Yanli is surprised, she doesn’t show it. She just gives Wei Wuxian a loving grin. “Have you talked to A-Yuan’s family about it yet?”

Wei Wuxian nods. “Granny Wen mentioned it before, actually,” he admits, “She said A-Yuan already talks about Wangji and me like we’re his fathers. Wen Qing’s Uncle also gave me his blessing.”

Jin Yanli lights up. “A-Xian, that’s wonderful!” She claps her hands together. “So when are you asking Lan Wangji?”

“I don’t know.” Wei Wuxian worries his lip. “I mean... we only just begun dating. Don’t you think it’s too soon? I don’t know if Wangji even wants children...”

“A-Xian.” Jin Yanli waits until she has Wei Wuxian’s eyes back on her. “I’ve seen Lan Wangji with A-Yuan. He clearly loves children. You don’t have to worry about that. But if you think it’s too soon, then wait. There’s no need to rush. You’re already fostering him, and A-Yuan isn’t old enough to know the difference.”

Wei Wuxian feels the oppressive weight lift right off his shoulders. “You’re right,” he realizes aloud, “There’s no need to rush.”

“Exactly,” Jin Yanli says, “Like I said, enjoy the present. Don’t spend too much time regretting the past or fretting about the future. You’ve got a doting boyfriend, and an adorable kid who loves you.”

Wei Wuxian feels like tearing up. He valiantly avoids doing so.

“Now drink your tea already,” Jin Yanli chastises playfully, “I brought this brand just for you. It’s a chai with extra spice.”

“Jiejie!” Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his heart. “Still spoiling me, after all this time.”

“I will spoil you forever,” Jin Yanli promises, “No matter whether you’re eight years old or eighty, I will always spoil my A-Xian rotten.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, delighted. He knows she means it, and that makes it all the more endearing.

The rest of the day is spent sipping tea, weeding the garden, watching the kids, and making plans for a double date. And, as Jin Yanli so wisely advised, Wei Wuxian savors every last minute of it.

[stoncs]

ay  buddies  what  is  up  !  i’m  tay  ,  n  i’m  here  to  reintroduce  you  to  my  emotional  support  bag  of  trash  ,  stone  .  we  were  here  a  minute  ago  ,  but  now  that  i  have  a  job  w  pretty  good  hours  i  thought  ...  huh  ,  isnt  it  time  for  stone  to  be  a  scumbag  again  ?  anyhow  ,  i’m  from  the  gmt-3  tmz  i  think  ,  maybe  .  i  go  by  feminine  pronouns  ,  n  it’s  hot  as  balls  in  this  wonderful  brazilian  weather  so  yall  can  catch  me  ugly  sweating  over  here  anytime  !  so  down  below  u  can  find  a  whole  ass  intro  abt  this  douchenozzle  ,   n  if  u  smash  the  gd  like  button  i  will  hit  u  up  for  some  plots !

𝐈.  𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋  :  

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  :  stone  louis  liberman

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  :  stoney 

𝐀𝐆𝐄  :  twenty  five  

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑  /  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒  :  cismale  /  he & him

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘  :  bisexual  ,  biromantic

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  :  part  time  professional  photographer

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘  :  charles  liberman  &  elena  hardwell

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎  :  scott  disick  ,  jean  ralphio  saperstein  ,  chuck  bass  (  ish  )  .

𝐈𝐈.  𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

stone  was  born  into  what  is  considered  hollywood  royalty  .  kind  of  like  brangelina  (  pre  breakup  )  ,  or  richard  burton  &  liz  taylor  ,  or  kim  &  k*nye  (  just  kidding  )  .  but  yes  ,  they  were  both  really  famous  actors  who  were  both  in  commited  relationships  when  they  first  met  on  a  movie  set  and  fell  in  mad  love  with  each  other  .  by  the  time  the  movie  had  premiered  they  were  already  secretly  married  and  just  the  most  talked  about  topic  in  the  movie  industry  .

AND  they  lived  happily  ever  after  .  just  kidding  ,  mr.  liberman  died  in  a  car  crash  when  stone  was  ten  years  old  ,  and  his  loss  really  broke  his  mother  .  she  grieved  the  best  way  she  knew  how  :  by  drinking  a  lot  and  getting  remarried  less  than  a  year  after  losing  her  husband  .  and  then  getting  remarried  5  more  times  after  that  . stone  actually  gets  along  really  well  with  most  of  his  mom’s  ex-husbands  ,  and  is  still  friends  with  some  of  them  even  after  elena  eventually  ditches  them  .  stone  also  claims  not  to  remember  his  dad  ,  but  actually  does  and  really  misses  him  and  the  family  they  were  specially  .

in  regards  of  family  ,  his  dad  had  2  kids  before  marrying  his  mom  ,  and  his  mom  had  one  after  losing  his  dad  so  he  has  plenty  of  siblings  .  he  isn’t  particularly  close  to  them  since  they  never  saw  much  of  each  other  growing  up  ,  but  he  is  very  close  to  his  little  sister  ,  who’s  13  and  just  as  chaotic  as  he  is  but  definitely  a  lot  smarter  .  he  loves  her  to  pieces  even  though  sometimes  he  thinks  she’s  satan  hiding  inside  a  teenage  girl’s  body  .

okay  ,  so  ,  as  previously  mentioned  ,  stone  views  life  in  a  ‘before  dad  &  after  dad’  kinda  way  ,  in  regards  that  childhood  before  his  father  died  was  amazing  ,  they  were  always  travelling  and  going  to  cool  spots  and  having  fun  .  his  mom  was  awesome  &  he  loved  his  dad  to  pieces  and  he  never  had  to  go  to  school  .  life  was  like  ,  perfect  .  and  then  his  dad  died  and  his  mother  was  such  a  mess  .  she  was  having  such  a  hard  time  dealing  with  losing  him  that  she  honestly  couldn’t  give  stone  the  affection  and  structure  he  needed  ,  so  he  was  mostly  left  behind  in  the  chicago  house  with  babysitters  and  homeschool  teachers  while  his  mom  was  off  working  and  getting  married  .  he  doesn’t  really  hold  a  grudge  or  anything  ,  but  he’s  definitely  not  as  close  to  his  mom  because  of  it  ,  it’s  like  he  can’t  really  connect  with  her  anymore  .

stone  never  went  to  college  ,  his  mom  had  to  actually  pay  for  his  high  school  diploma  because  she  didn’t  want  him  to  be  a  dropout  ,  and  stone  spent  most  of  his  life  with  zero  life  prospects  ,  all  he  did  for  a  while  was  spend  his  parent’s  money  and  get  super  fucked  up  .  that  being  said  ,  he’s  really  shaped  up  the  last  couple  of  years  &  ran  with  the  passion  he  had  for  photography  .  he’s  quite  a  bit  more  serious  about  it  than  most  people  know  ,  and  has  shot  big  pieces  for  mags  like  time  and  rolling  stone  ,  but  he  doesn’t  really  want  anyone  creating  expectations  about  him  so  he  usually  keeps  quiet  .  ALSO  because  he’s  having  sex  with  a  bunch  of  models  who  he  definitely  shouldn’t  be  associating  with  ,  so  he  likes  to  keep  a  low  profile  .

growing  up  and  to  this  day  ,  stone  never  minded  the  attention  he  got  from  being  a  hollywood  baby  .  he  just  was  never  bothered  by  it  ,  and  even  like  makes  it  a  game  to  see  how  many  paps  he  can  gather  by  going  out  to  get  groceries  or  to  some  fancy  sushi  place  all  the  celebs  are  going  to  .  he’s  basically  an  attention  wh*re  ,  we  hate  him  .

ALSO  he  is  a  daddy  !  literally  has  a  five  year  old  son  who’s  called  bodhi  .  there’s  a  lot  of  drama  with  his  mother  so  he  doesn’t  get  to  see  him  very  often  ,  but  he  loves  bodhi  very  much  and  is  a  pretty  good  dad  ?  not  the  best  ,  but  he  tries  really  hard  to  be  good  actually  .

𝐈𝐈𝐈.  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

stone  is  generally  a  great  person  to  be  around  if  you’re  looking  for  a  good  time  ,  he’s  always  up  to  something  fun  and  anything  you  wanna  do  that  most  people  would  consider  crazy  ,  stone  is  the  guy  that  will  say  hell  yea  and  not  think  twice  to  do  it  with  you  .  he  loves  to  be  surrounded  by  people  and  is  just  a  party  animal  .

he’s  also  super  chill  .  crazy  chill  .  too  chill  .  nothing  gets  him  mad  ,  like  ,  nothing  .  usually  that  annoying  dude  who  will  tell  you  to  calm  down  when  you’re  arguing  and  make  you  wanna  choke  him  .  the  least  threatening  dude  you  will  ever  meet  .

just  a  cool  dude  to  have  around  overall  ,  like  people  are  always  having  fun  when  they’re  around  him  .

but  ...  has  NO  moral  compass  ,  not  even  a  single  ounce  of  it  .  he  is  the  most  opportunistic  person  .  will  100%  do  whatever  it  takes  to  get  things  to  go  his  way  ,  and  has  no  concern  about  how  his  actions  affect  others  .  he  usually  thinks  since  nothing  bothers  him  ,  he  can  do  whatever  he  wants  to  everyone  else  and  no  one  will  mind  .

kinda  a  nice  douchebag  ?  he’s  really  charming  and  nice  and  cool  but  will  probably  screw  you  over  at  least  once  in  your  life  ,  maybe  more  if  you  let  him  ngl  .

𝐈𝐕.  𝐅𝐔𝐍  𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒

is  a vegetarian  !  tried  to  go  vegan  once  but  he  really  likes  chocolate  milk  and  gave  up  .

speaks  very  slowly  ,  says  ‘i mean’  ,  and  ‘uh’  ,  a  lot  .  you’ve  probably  asked  him  to  talk  a  little  faster  once  or  twice  .

is  named  stone  because  he  was  conceived  at  a  rolling  stones  concert  .  shout  out  to  mick  jagger  .  his  mom  always  tells  him  that  and  he  is  traumatized  by  it  .

does  a  LOT  of  drugs  ,  if  he  ever  zones  out  feel  free  to  assume  he’s  tripping  about  purple  crocodiles  or  something  freaky  .

is  6  foot  tall  and  very  clumsy  about  it  !  

was  actually  born  in  greece .

𝐕.  𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 

best  friend  :  someone  who’s  been  there  for  stone  through  pretty  much  everything  and  vice  versa  ,  knows  all  his  fuckups  and  either  tries  to  get  him  to  become  a  better  human  being  or  just  fucks  up  right  along  with  him  .    

half  sibling  :  they’re  kinda  awkward  in  that  …  cousins  at  family  get  together  type  of  way  ?  stone  doesn’t  particularly  see  this  person  as  his  actual  sibling  and  they  neither  love  nor  hate  each  other  ,  it’s  just  rly  awkward  .

skinny  love  :  they’re  like  …  the  relationship  that  never  was  ?  they  both  cared  about  one  another  ,  but  for  some  reason  didn’t  end  up  together  so  now  ….  weirdness  happens  ?  they  dont  really  know  where  they  stand  with  one  another  n  might  still  care  but  it  doesn’t  seem  like  it’s  gonna  happen  .

exes  on  good  or  bad  terms  :  like  previously  mentioned  ...  stone  is  kinda  an  asshole  ,  so  his  relationships  mostly  end  up  not  in  the  best  way  possible  ?  that  being  said  ,  he  can  sometimes  be  decent  ,  so  maybe  there  could  be  relationships  that  end  up  in  a  generally  positive  note  ?  possibly  .

CHEATING  PLOTS  :  honestly  stone  might  be  the  king  of  cheating  ?  he  just  doesn’t  care  ?  he’s  such  an  asshole  .  this  doesn’t  even  have  to  be  romantic  either  ?  he  could  have  hooked  up  with  someone  his  friend  liked  or  someone’s  MOM  ,  like  .  he  just  cheats  everyone  on  everything  all the  time  . 

first  love  :  the  person  who  he  thought  was  going  to  give  him  the  romance  that  his  mom and  dad  had  ,  could  have  ended  on  good  or  bad  terms  but  he  always  holds  a  special  place  in  his  heart  for  them  . 

flings  or  fwbs  :  he  probably  has  plenty  of  those  because  stone  is  at  a  phase  in  life  where  he  doesnt  really  believe  in  monogamy ?  i’m  serious  i  hate  him  .  he  probably  has  a  bunch  of  flings  and  not  gonna  lie  ,  he  could  be  stringing  some  of  them  along  just  because  i  love  me  some  drama  .

platonic  siblingish  friendship  :  someone  he  doesn’t  even  think  about  being   with  .  probably  someone  he  kind  of  sees  like  a  sibling  and  is  just  really  protective  about  . 

party  pals  :  they  don’t  really  have  much  in  common  ,  but  they  have  a  great  time  whenever  there  are  parties  and  fun  adventures  around  .

bad  blood  :  stone  doesn’t  really  hate  anyone  ,  but  there  are  definitely  people  he’s  uncomfortable  around  or  who’s  presence  he’s  really  not  fond  of  ?  possibly  a  lot  of  cold  shouldering  and  some  snarky  remarks  ,  nothing  to  extreme  though  .

okay  so  i  feel  like  this  ran  a  little  long  .  it  probably  did  .  a  lot  of  it  was  recycled  from  my  old  intro  but  yall  still  wouldnt  believe  how  long  that  took  me  .  so  like  this  if  u  hate  stone  &  lets  plot  !  

[thehomierobbstark]

Erik accidentally calls you a “bitch” and does everything to make it up to you

A/N: So the hybrid part of this is missing, but it will return in the second part, which will be a reblog of this part. The story kicks off immediately, so get ready. Remember, you asked for this anon 😅.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horrible shrieks ring out throughout the apartment, the high pitched cries piercing the core of your ears and startling you from your concentrated position. You drop the hot curling iron into the sink, flinching at the burn left behind on your ear.

Wincing at the pain, you swipe your finger under the cold tap of the tub, tapping at your ear lightly to try and subdue some of the stinging, feeling your irritation grow.

Rounding the corner out of the bathroom, you walk halfway through the hallway before yelling out, the upset shrieking still echoing off the walls.

“Um, hello??? I know I’m not the only one in this house who hears that, Erik where are you, dammit!?”

You wait half a beat and hear no response before padding all the way into the living room to find your toddler in her pen, wailing as tears stream down her cheeks. You rush over to her and scoop her up, cooing at her and wiping away the tears with your t-shirt as you pace back and forth, bouncing her on your hip.

When you turn to walk back, you see Erik out on the balcony, phone held to his ear while he talks animatedly to someone on the other line.

“Are you fucking serious?” your nostrils flare, and you stomp over to the glass door, knocking hard on it while you cover your baby’s ears with the other hand.

“Erik! Get the fuck in here!” you yell through the pane, and its a muffled sound but coupled with the knocking it gets your husbands attention.

He glances in your direction before refocusing somewhere on the ground, and you can hear that he’s arguing with whoever’s on the other line as he holds a finger up to you.

You slide open the door a crack, careful to keep your baby girl shielded from the cold air as you yell some more.

“Now, Erik! Come inside!” you say harshly, closing the door quickly and retreating back to the pen to grab her blanket and wrap it around her.

She’d calmed down significantly since you’d picked her up, her little body jerking from the hiccups of breath she was making from the after affects of her crying.

You smooth your hand over her soft curls, kissing her forehead before laying her body over your shoulder, hugging her into your neck.

You hear the patio door slide open again and you turn to face him, seeing him step inside and remove his coat. He reaches behind him to slide the door closed, looking at you with furrowed brows.

“Girl, what the hell is your problem? Why you banging on the door yelling like that when I’m on the phone?” he says, straightening the collar of his shirt.

“You were supposed to be watching Shania, Erik! She was screaming bloody murder and you were outside on a goddamn business call!” You try to keep your voice level, but its gets louder the more you talk, and Shania stirs on your shoulder.

You take a breath to try and calm yourself, rubbing circles into her back as you try again, this time attempting to whisper.

“All I asked you to do was watch your daughter while I got ready for your company’s banquet. God, you can’t even do that without running off to handle work!” you’re seething with anger now, so tired of him pulling this shit and leaving you with the burden.

“You better watch the way you’re speaking to me, I know how to take care of my own daughter, Y/N. I was outside for less than five minutes. I was right there!” he points back out to the patio.

You close your eyes, rubbing your temples as you feel the pressure start to build behind your eyes of your oncoming migraine.

“But you couldn’t hear her screaming, E,” you try and reason with him. “We’ve been over this, Ni Ni is only one she needs to be watched constantly. What if something happened to her?!”

He wasn’t understanding the gravity of the situation. You needed him to understand.

“Nothing is going to happen to her, Y/N! Stop jumping to the worst conclusions-”

“Well maybe if you gave a shit more I wouldn’t have to jump to anything!” You’re screaming again, the rise in tension scaring Shania, and she starts a low whine that threatens to become a full blown crying session again.

You move away from the living room, needing to distance yourself before you become reckless and you head to the nursery, leaving Erik fuming in the other room. You didn’t mean to get so upset buts its like he hadn’t learned anything.

You’re gone for about ten minutes, using the time to calm Shania back down and cradle her to sleep, wanting both you and Erik to just take a moment and assess your feelings before coming back together to talk.

When she finally drifts off to sleep, you lay her in her crib, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek and making sure her feet and back are covered by her yellow blankie before turning on the baby mobile and flipping off the light.

You quietly close the door behind you, leaning on it and taking a deep breath, resting your head back against the door. You didn’t feel like arguing anymore and you know you needed to apologize, but you just wanted to hear him acknowledge it at least once. Thats all you wanted; to know that it had affected him as much as it did you.

You shuffle back into the living room, the guilt from your flared temper weighing heavy on your heart.

You shouldn’t have yelled at him like that.

“Erik, I-”

“Save it, Y/N.” You look up to see Erik on the couch, bent over as he slips on his black suede loafers he’d paired with his white jacket tuxedo.

“I already called the babysitter and cancelled, so don’t worry about getting ready,” he tells you exhaustedly, sighing as he stands and smooths out his pants.

He walks past you to grab his jacket off the hanger on the back of the door, going to the mirror at the front closet to watch himself put it on.

You felt a little hollow inside.

“What do you mean?” you look at his face in the mirror, walking up behind him.

“I mean, I’m going by myself to the banquet. I don’t give a shit about my family, right? Thats what you said. That I’d rather be at fucking work.” He spits the last word out with disgust.

He pulls a black bow tie out of his front pocket, angrily tying it around his neck.

That really hit you in the chest, because even though thats what you said, thats not what you meant. Not really.

You start to reach out to him while you try and find your words, wanting to explain.

“Erik… I didn’t…”

“What, Y/N? You didn’t mean it? No, thats exactly what you meant. Otherwise, why would you have said it.”

His words are cold, and you can feel the pain behind them as he focuses on straightening his bow tie.

Your throat starts to feel thick and tears form in the corners of your eyes. You didn’t mean to hurt him like that.

“Baby, I’m-”

“No, Y/N. I don’t want to hear it. I mean, God, what do you want from me? To hear me say it? To hear me live it, over and over again?”

He’s turned to faced you now, jacket buttoned at the waist, dreads braided back neatly and his beard lined up, a single diamond stud earring adorning his left ear.

The smooth, well put together exterior did nothing to soften the enraged frustrated look on his face.

“All I want to do is find answers and try to move on, but it’s like you can’t help but use what happened as an excuse to be a fucking bitc-”

He stops himself short, but he’s not quick enough.

He’d said it. You heard it. You’d both heard it.

You feel wetness trailing your jaw, and you reach up to touch it. You didn’t even realize the tears had fallen.

Erik’s frozen in his spot, a mixture of shock and regret distorting his face.

His feet move to step towards you but you take one back, holding a hand out like you’re trying to protect yourself.

He closes his eyes, ashamed, and he opens his mouth to say something.

“Dont.” You cut him off before he can even begin, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears louder than you could a few seconds ago.

“Thats how this works, right?” Your voice is shaky, and you let out a fake laugh, squeezing and releasing a fist as you try to keep yourself together.

“I hurt you, you hurt me back.” You sniff, vision getting cloudy.

“You meant it, right? Otherwise, why would you have said it.” You hand his words back to him, not even having the energy to throw them.

“Y/N. You know I didn’t-”

“You’re gonna be late for your banquet, Erik. You should get going.”

He gives you one last look, trying to find your eyes with his, but you just wrap your arms around yourself, staring at the spot you picked on the gray carpet beneath your feet.

You hear him walk back to the couch, fabric shuffling as he grabs his coat, and his footsteps move toward the door, tapping as they reach the hardwood transition.

Keys jingle against the door knob as you hear the lock twist, the heavy metal door creaking open.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the door shuts, the only sound left being the soft thud of your tears against the carpet to break the deafening silence.

[the-static-and-i]

Star-lit Date Night

//Hey yall, so depression has been kicking my ass and I dont know how to write whump without it being my/Sam's fault in some way, which is one of my big triggers, so I'm gonna pause on those for a hot sec and just write some fluff, because I need that so bad rn. I'm sorry about the prompts, I'll get to those as soon as I hate myself a little less, but for now just enjoy the kinda badly written gay cliche

TW: Gay panic, brief mention of not eating or sleeping much, mention of medicine, kinda suggestive talk.

Sam hadnt stopped telling everyone about this girl she had met since ten minutes after meeting her, which was three weeks ago now. If she wasnt texting her, she was infodumping everything about her to Kat or Sofia or occassionally Jackie and Nic when they were free and up for listening, and if she wasnt doing that, she was daydreaming about kissing her and moving in together, she had even planned their wedding.

Ren tried to keep her in check, so she didnt talk everyone's ears off about some girl they hadnt even met, but even she had to admit she was smitten with her too.

Of course, Ren didnt allow herself to talk to this girl, aware that there would be questions that she couldnt answer with a clear conscious. But she could at least admit she was gorgeous, and Sam's dramatic exaggerations of her beauty werent that far off, or were at least deserved.

They had finally gotten into a point in their friendship where Sam felt comfortable enough to blurt out that she liked her as more than a friend, and as they waited in an increasingly awkward silence, she and Ren decided that no matter what happened, they were glad to have met her.

Dani had responded positively, though! She liked Sam back, and wanted to get to know her more, so she invited Sam on a date on Friday night.

So she acquired permission for Sofia's car, and then waited in an anxious ball for the next two days to pass by. She barely slept and barely ate, only remembering to take her meds because of her alarms and Kat's gentle reminders.

Finally, Friday morning rolled around.

Ren took them to the bathroom, showering and shaving and curling their hair and washing their face with 13 different products, finally finishing with some "light" makeup.

Sam hated it, wanting to scratch at her nose and cheeks and forehead, but knew it would just mess up Ren's hard work. Admittedly, she looked pretty, and Ren's skill was impressive.

They left the bathroom in a towel, giving an awkward smile to Kat as she headed out of the cabin.

Arriving in their room, Sam realized she had to actually get dressed, but didnt know what the fuck to wear. She didnt wanna get out of the towel dress, didnt wanna wear pants or shorts or, gods forbid, a skirt.

So, the only option was a dress.

She had a few, and she liked most of them, but a couple were Ren's, and those were on the downward side of her "like" spectrum.

This is when Ren started stirring again, coaxing Sam to at least try on a few of hers, just to see how they looked with her hair and face all dolled up.

Sam decided to humor her, trying on three before finding one of Ren's she did actually like; a black long sleeve dress with a short skater skirt, and weird ass hole patterns along the whole thing. Weird patterns aside, it was a gorgeous dress, and hugged her body in some pretty flattering ways.

She kept it on, hanging up the other dresses and doing a quick spin in front if the mirror.

Oh yeah, this was a good dress; the skirt flared up and twirled around her, probably showing off her ass a little, but she would put on those dress short things that hide your underwear and call it good.

Despite how happy she was with the dress, there was a new one she got that she honestly loved, and had been waiting for an excuse to wear for a few weeks now.

So she slipped off the black dress carefully, pulling on the dark blue one instead, the pink and peach flowers catching her eye in the mirror immediately. She slipped her hands in the pockets and spun, flaring the dress manually. Even if she had to put work in, the action still made her smile, and she decided this one looked pretty too.

Ren sighed quietly, saying that they were both pretty but the black one was a little nicer, yeah?

Sam groaned, honestly unsure which she preferred. A quick glance at the clock told her that she didn't have a whole lot of time to debate, so she bit her lip and decided to get third party opinion.

Remembering Kat had just left though, her heart started beating faster in a small panic. She grabbed her phone and pulled open her messages, seeing the last person she talked to was Nic!

He would know how to do the date thing, right? I mean, he got the only person as cool as him, so he had to at least be able to advise her for clothes right? Fuck, she hoped so.

She snapped a quick picture of the blue dress while it was still on, quickly pulling it off and putting the black one back on.

Taking a picture of that too, she gathered both and sent them to him, captioning it "Fashion emergency, Ren and I cant decide what to wear for our, my? Date tonight!! Mind helping a little?"

She sent off the message, twirling for a second in the dress again, habitually reaching for pockets that werent there and frowning a little. She didnt dwell on lost pockets though, going back to her closet and pulling out different shoes.

If he picked the black one, would she wear heels or boots? Flats maybe? Not boots, for sure, but I have 4 pairs of black flats and 3 different heels.

Okay, fuck that, what about if he picks blue? I have 2 pairs of blue flats, plus a pair of blue heels, and any of the black shoes would be cute probably.

Sam groaned, quickly realizing she had far too many shoes, and she was completely hopeless with fashion stuff.

Luckily, she wasnt alone with her indecisiveness; Nic responding with a comment about how pretty she looked and how happy he was for her, finishing off by saying that her hair accented the blue one in a really pretty way.

Sam squealed and set her phone down, sliding the dress on and examining herself, brushing some setting power off of the chest and brushing down the skirt a little, finishing by fluffing her hair a tiny bit.

Yeah, she looked good.

She grabbed a pair of comfy blue shoes and a pair of cute heels that she could totally walk in if Ren was fronting, snapping pics of them on her bed and sending both to Nic, saying "You're a fucking lifesaver and I preesh you. Would you mind if I asked for one more?"

His response was quicker, "Go for more comfortable in case you're out for a while. Dont wanna cut tonight short cause your feet hurt!"

Sam laughed a little, enjoying the implications that Dani would actually enjoy her presence enough to want to hang out past dinner.

Still, she slipped on some small socks and the flats, floofing the hem of the skirt in front of the mirror again. Dad made the right call, and she was fucking rocking the look.

She took a better quality picture, showing off the whole look to Nic, writing a quick, "You're a fucking god and thank you so much!! Love you, dad :D"

She didnt wait for a reply, putting her phone into a sorta-matching bag and making sure she had her wallet and keys in it. Finally, she was ready, and ahead of schedule!

She left the cabin quick, making it to the car and driving off without incident.

30 minutes later, she was in the restaurant checking to see if Dani had already been seated. The host led her back to Dani's table, the latter standing up and pulling Sam into a hug before pulling away.

"You look stunning, Jesus Christ.." Sam blushed, stuttering out a small thank you and reciprocating the compliment.

Dani was fucking gorgeous, wearing fancy pants and a nice top, with a complementing jacket draped over the back of her chair.

They parted completely, Dani stepping back and pulling Sam's chair out, coming around to sit again after she pushed Sam in too.

They ordered drinks, neither of them getting anything alcoholic, and then food quickly, only quiet small talk shared as they decided.

Once the menus were taken though, Dani started firing off random questions that Sam struggled to answer, the questions getting more ridiculous as they went; "What would you name a pet dolphin?", "If you could name your super-sidekick, what would you pick?", "Who came to mind when I said super-sidekick?"

Eventually they were both giggling and laughing, Dani not holding back with her head tilted back and a big grin on her face, and Sam keeping herself quiet by biting her lip, also suppressing her own grin.

Their food came, and they made more small talk while they ate, learning small things about each other that Sam loved knowing; Dani loved shellfish but hated other seafood, and her first dog was named Popcorn, and her first girlfriend was in the 7th grade, and they kissed on their first anniversary.

Dani didnt push when Sam frowned at the mention of first girlfriends, avoiding the subject by instead asking her favorite sport, and if she had ever been skiing, and what her favorite halloween costume was.

By the time they finally finished dinner, including a relatively small dessert that they shared, it was 11 pm, and they didnt want to go their separate ways just yet.

So they split the bill and took their leave, heading a block over to the nearest park. Sam started shivering as they walked, but she pursed her lips and ignored it, bracing herself against the breeze that was colder than she was expecting.

Dani stopped in front of the intersection, not even hitting the crosswalk button before taking her jacket off and draping it over Sam's shoulders.

Only then did Sam realize Dani was so fucking tall. Like, she was 5'4, Dani was at least a whole head taller, with slightly broader shoulders and such big fucking arms.

Distracting herself quickly, she slipped her arms into the warm jacket while Dani hit the button.

The jacket was so fucking big on her, naturally. The sleeves went past her hands, the bottom edge coming down past her butt, and the shoulders were already sliding down her, well, shoulders.

Dani wrapped her arm around Sam, keeping the jacket upright and also keeping their warmth closer to their bodies.

They crossed into the park, still entwined and cuddling, both content to walk around in the quiet night for a while.

Sam glanced up at the sky, doing a double take as she saw the big moon and bright stars.

Slowly, she started asking Dani about how much she knew about space, sharing little facts and tidbits that she knew, until Dani asked her to share more. She took the jacket off after a moment of hesitation, laying it on the grass and sitting down on it, patting the space next to her so Dani could sit.

She complied, even following when Sam laid back fully, listening quietly but enthralled as Sam pointed out constellations and planets and even a couple satellites that they noticed passing by.

Dani entwined their hands, looking over at Sam with a small smile. She didnt notice the gaze, still caught up in telling the story behind one of the many constellations she had loved learning about. Dani couldnt help but smile with her as her shy smile grew into a big grin that she didnt even hide the longer she talked.

Sam finally tired herself out, looking over at Dani with her smile returned to its shy, apologetic size. She leaned forward before Sam could speak, kissing her shoulder gently.

"You're really smart, and you clearly know your stuff about this. I love hearing you talk about the stars and space and everything involved with that, Sam. And thank you for sharing," Sam was shocked, her mouth opening a little, like she wanted to protest but though better of it. Dani gave her a small but genuine smile, squeezing her hand gently.

Sam squeezed back, whispering a quiet "Thank you," before nuzzling her forehead onto Dani's shoulder, hiding her face and her slightly-visible smile.

When she pulled away, she caught Dani's eye, both of them refusing to look away. Her hair was a forest green but looked so much lighter under the moon, and San wanted to run her fingers through it.

Dani was a step ahead of her, turning onto her side and releasing Sam's hand so she could pull her into a hug. Her forehead was pressed against Dani's collarbone, but she was so comfortable and felt so safe already.

After everything, she could use a little safe.

So she hugged Dani back, looping their legs together and holding her close, and they stayed like that until the sprinklers turned on.

They both grabbed their shit and ran out of the park, dripping wet and laughing, Sam doubled over by the time they reached the outer sidewalk.

Dani gasped for breath, glancing over at Sam before another laughing fit erupted from her. In the midst of her own fit, Sam barely registered that she wanted to hear Dani laugh like this more often.

The puddles beneath them grew as they slowly calmed down, Dani still letting out quiet giggles every so often, while Sam was just smiling big and proud.

"Your hair still looks beautiful, this is unfair, you're like a goddess or something!" Sam froze, looking over at Dani as she spoke. Her hair was falling into her face, whatever she had used to make it stand up clearly not being waterproof.

"Y-your hair is absolutely gorgeous, and you're rocking the whole.. messy hair vibe. Like, shit, you're so fucking pretty, I could actually ki-" Sam cut off, her eyes widening a little.

Its not that she didnt wanna kiss Dani, but she didnt want her to feel obligated to, I mean it was their first date, and they were both probably cold, and she was getting closer, why was she getting closer?

Dani rested her hands on Sam's shoulder and cheek, giving her a second to pull away before pressing their lips together.

Sam's hands flailed at her sides, before Ren placed them on Dani's hips and kissed her back. Sam came back in control, her eyes sliding shut in near bliss. Dani’s lips were soft and warm, and her hands were playing with Sam’s hair. 

They parted slowly, Dani meeting Sam’s eyes with a small smile. 

“You kiss good,” Were Sam’s first words, barely a whisper as her eyes flicked between Dani’s and her lips. Dani laughed a little, leaning over and kissing Sam’s cheek quickly. 

“You kiss good too. And thanks, Sam,” She was still smiling, and it had Sam smiling back. They stood there for a moment in silence, until Dani spoke up again, “Youre still shivering, do you want to call it a night?”

No, she really didnt, but she was really cold, and she had to take her meds before bed, lest she wake up like an asshole or have nightmares or both. 

She sighed, not knowing how to explain any of that without sounding fucking psychotic, so she simply nodded a little. “’m sorry”

“Hey, no need to apologize, i get it, its 2 am and we both have class tomorrow, its all good. You had fun tonight though?” Dani hooked her arm through Sam’s, guiding them back towards the restaurant and where they had parked. 

Sam blinked in surprise at the time, but didnt comment on it, instead answering, “This has been the best night ive had in.. ever? Its been so much fun just talking with you, and hanging out, and just.. being with you. Youre so sweet and funny and patient, and i.. really hope we can do this again sometime soon?”

Dani smiled, swinging their hands between them as she nodded rapidly. “Id be so down for that, and we can go out earlier than today? Just so we arent out all night?”

Sam nodded, looking up at Dani nervously, “Fuck yeah, or we could like.. i dunno, set up something so we spend the night together..?” 

“Sam Kyle, are you implying-”

“No!! No, not like that!!!!” Dani started laughing again as Sam covered her face with her free hand.

When Dani calmed down again, they had reached the parking lot and stopped walking. “I wouldnt mind having a sleepover though, with or without that.” She said with a fond smile. 

“That.. yeah, fuck yeah, how bout we plan something in the morning?” Dani agreed, and they shared another small kiss before going their separate ways. 

Sam walked quietly into the cabin, sure Kat would be asleep by now. She shot a quick text to Dani telling her that she arrived safely, getting one a few minutes later saying the same. They said their thank you’s and good night’s, before Sam noticed she still had Dani’s jacket on. 

She snorted as she saw herself in the mirror, flapping the sleeves briefly before deciding she did still look cute in it; the color even matched the flowers on her dress! 

She took one last picture, and went to send it to Nic, finally seeing that he had wished her good luck before she even left for the date, and had sent another message asking about how it went. With a small smile, she hit send on the photo, the caption a long ramble about how much fun they had and that they were planning another one soon. 

He responded with a small joke about the comfortable shoes, before saying how happy he was that she was moving on and finding some happy of her own. 

They talked for another few minutes while Sam took her meds, got changed into pjs and washed off the makeup, saying good night’s of their own before she laid down to finally sleep, after three very long, anxious days. 

She cuddled close to Peter, her amethyst necklace around his bear neck, bidding goodnight to the stars around her room and both her dads, finally having a completely dreamless night’s sleep.