#and then he gets kicked out of the air force for being gay

[biosurvive]

16 year old claire already knowing that chris is gay asf: chris how come you never have any girlfriends over? you know i won't mind :)

chris's closeted ass: i'm focusing on my career claire-bear :)

[danisbrainrot]

tell your boyfriend

natalie scatorccio x reader

warnings: cheating (sorry not sorry, travis), reader being a shitty person, angst

ever since I found out this song was actually about a woman, I don't know why, but I immediately thought of nat. I can't explain it LMFAO.

it had been weeks since the plane crashed, and the team was condemned to suffering in the wilderness. it was lucky lottie had found the cabin in the first place, but as you swung the axe high in the air, before bringing it down with a resounding crack, you started to wonder if life would've been better if you died in the crash.

you were starving, delirious and weak. there was no sign of a rescue team—who knows how long you'd have to spend out here. watching natalie and travis walking back, hand in hand, you felt yourself growl quietly to yourself. it wasn't fair that travis, who'd never talked to nat before the crash was dating her, but you—who'd loved her for years—were forced to watch from arms length. the sight wasn't made any better when you noticed the absence of meat.

everyone was teasing the two of them, causing you to storm off into the forest. you couldn't help but find everything unfair. falling for a girl who liked a boy—knowing if you were a boy, she'd love you.

kicking over a pile of leaves, you took out your anger on the forest. you hadn't even noticed natalie, until you almost pegged a rock at her (you'd meant to get the log). "oh my god, I'm sorry nat," you exclaimed, running towards her to see if she was okay.

she snorts, moving closer to you. "feeling hangry?" she teased, taking a seat on the log you were aiming at previously. you sarcastically laugh in response, taking a seat next to her.

"joke all you want, if you spent less time fucking travis and more time looking for animals, I wouldn't be destroying the forest," you snap, feeling your stomach begin growling. nat's eyebrow raised teasingly, eyes pointed at your tummy. it's timing was uncanny.

"we're not fucking," natalie replied, making your heart race in excitement. "I mean, I'd like to. . . but he can't get it up."

knowing this was your chance, you took advantage of this information. "maybe he's gay?" you reply, trying to sound as earnest as you can. you nudge her side, "no straight man could resist you," you wink at her teasingly, receiving a soft shove to your shoulder.

"I've always trusted your gaydar. . . but I don't think this is it," she mumbles in response, leaning forward and placing her chin in her hands.

there was a beat of silence, as you desperately try to come up with a plausible explanation to break them up. "you could always ask coach, I'm sure he'd know all about gays," you joke.

nat turned her head slightly to face you, "you're right. maybe I should—" your heart sank, realising that she was seriously thinking about it.

"have you thought that maybe he's interested in someone else? and you're just a distraction," you blurted out, wishing you could take it back immediately.

nat scoffed, standing up, "yeah, thanks. that makes me feel fucking fantastic," she snapped, stomping away.

"nat! I'm sorry!" you called out, but she ignored you.

«—(♥)—»

later that night, you found yourself in the storage room, with your stomach growling. you knew that mari was hiding some berries in here and you were so hungry that you no longer cared about stealing.

the sound of creaking behind you made you jump in fright, whipping around to let out some excuse when you realised it was just natalie. "oh, I thought you were mari," you mumble, turning back to continue your quest.

"looking for her secret stash?" she asked, you tried to work out if her tone was curious or teasing. "it's behind the box there."

when she pointed in the direction, you side eyed her, wondering how he knew where it was. glad that she'd shown you, you decided not to ask. you pulled out a large white bucket and hungrily opened the lid, only to be disappointed at the contents. "she's letting them ferment?"

you turn to face natalie, who shrugs, "it's not that bad. it's pretty strong though, just made purely out of berries, makes you get drunk quicker," she explains; you snort at her, shaking your head.

"you'd have a lot of experience with being drunk," you snipe.

"hilarious, you know you're so funny, you should think about joining snl," she replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

you sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I'm so hungry, nat. I can't keep living like this," you whisper, on the verge of tears.

natalie sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "it'll be okay, I promise. travis and I are heading to a new place tomorrow, we'll find deer there, I'm sure," she soothes. you lay your head on her shoulder, playing with her hand on your thigh.

"a new place to hunt? or a new place to fuck?" you snapped.

narrowing her eyes at you, she scoffed and got up, "you know, I liked that you weren't like the others, that you never slutshamed me. . . I guess you're just like the rest of them," she replied, leaving you alone.

you knew it was stupid to take your unrequited feelings out on her, especially because she didn't owe you romantic love. however, it killed you watching her fall in love with travis—and the hunger eating you away wasn't making you a nicer person either.

tentatively scooping some of the berry juice in your hand, sipping it, when you heard mari approaching. in a panic, you'd never put something away so quickly.

«—(♥)—»

natalie trudged through the forest with travis in defeat; the gun slung over her shoulder serving as a reminder of her duty as hunter—a duty she was failing. their eyes were still peeled for any deer, hopeful for any last minute catches. however, it seemed like all the animals in the forest knew about their plans.

groaning, nat put her head in her hands and sat on the log. "this is fucking stupid," she grumbles, ignoring travis as he took a seat next to her.

"maybe we should stay put here, just for a little while," he suggests, his thigh brushing against hers. nat rested her chin against her knees and offered him a weak smile.

neither of them noticed you, hiding in the bushes, having given up scavenging for berries. they'd been gone for three hours, leaving everyone else in the cabin to search for food—and for what? it seemed no one would be eating anything. . . meat or fruit. the disappointing view of just the two of them made your stomach growl, reminding you of how long you've gone without eating something substantial.

stepping on a twig accidentally, you winced as both their heads snap in your direction. "you're following us now? disappointed to see we aren't having sex?" natalie sniped, getting up and walking towards you.

showing off your basket, you know that she wouldn't believe you even if it's true. "just hunting for berries, figured they were further out than usual," you mumble, taking a step back the closer she got.

it wasn't until you were both face to face, your chest heaving and trying to look tough, that natalie smirked. "I get it, you're hungry, but you don't have to follow us," she teased.

you rolled your eyes, "travis, can you give us a moment?" you asked, your heart racing as you come to terms with what you're about to do.

travis scoffs, looking at nat for confirmation, who only gestured for him to return to the cabin. in shock, he sent her an odd look, before standing up, and walking away silently.

natalie turned to face you again, "what did you want to talk about?"

"i wanted to apologise. you're right, I shouldn't be slutshaming you because I'm hungry. . ." you pause, wondering whether or not you should continue. desperate to tell her about your feelings, you could feel your heartbeat raising impossibly fast. "it's actually so stupid—the real reason I was mad at you."

natalie raised her eyebrows teasingly, placing her hands on her waist and smirking at you. "let me guess, the real reason is that you like me?" you stare at her stunned, "please, you don't think I know? I'm not Jackie," she laughs. you feel a blush coming across your cheeks.

sliding her thumb through your jean loops, nat pulled you closer to her, until your chest was pressed against hers. "how'd you find out?" you whisper, looking up at her in awe.

"because I may or may not feel the same about you," she mumbles, her lips inches from yours.

"what about travis?" you ask; nat shrugs in response, finally pressing her lips against yours. initially, you freeze, not kissing her back, until she gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place, encouraging you to kiss her back passionately.

wrapping your hands around her neck, natalie pulls away for a second, "I should probably tell my boyfriend," she whispers. you raise your eyebrows in shock.

"tell him what? that I'm your girlfriend now?" you teased, eliciting laughter from the blonde. she nodded, before placing her fingers under your chin and pulling you in for another kiss.

[mrpuzzlessimp420]

Mario Simulator (Joke Fic)

Chapter 2

Warnings: Mention of Lobotomy, Blackmailing, Kidnapping, Plotting Murder (none of these are taken seriously)

Ships: Marware, SMG34, BatteryAcid (Mr Puzzles x Orange Juice)-Mentioned

An idea popped into Mario's head, quite surprising as he probably didn't have any braincells left.

A very... unique idea.

You see, there was something actually... unnormal about Mario.

He was what you would call...

A yandere.

Now Mario wasn't your Ayano Aishi "I've never felt ANY emotions before Senpai!" yandere, he was your "though emotionally stunted still had emotions" yandere.

His entire life he had never felt strong emotions before which wasn't questioned by literally anyone as they just thought it was just because he was you know Mario or because he had been implied to be lobotomized in that one episode.

It also wasn't questioned when he started acting coo-coo crazy over Mr Puzzles as they just cracked it up to just be Mario being Mario.

So hiding this fact about himself from others was as easy as forcing your friends to kiss for a tiktok trend.

But like any yandere (insert-literally-any-character) fanfic, Mario had some roadblocks that stopped him from being with his one and only true loves...

Rivals.

Now Mario was used to having rivals, love related or not but Orange Juice was a special case.

Unlike the others, Orange Juice was actually dating Mr Puzzles which meant that if he just straight up murdered him, Mr Puzzles would be depressed, wear grey/black hoodies all the time and be emo and Mario couldn't have that! Being emo was the greatest sin of humanity!

He'd had to think of a plan to get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up or for Orange Juice to be extremely toxic so when he goes to kill him, Puzzles wouldn't be a sad depressed babygirl!

Unluckily for him, Mario was a number 1 lazy boy and didn't want to go through all the effort of figuring something out so he thought of the next best option: get someone to figure it out for him!

Now how would be his unwilling victim?

Saiko?

No she has had to much character development that she would drop kick him into the sun if he asked her to revert back to the days she was crazily obsessing over Boopkins (really though, Boopkins??)

Luigi?

No he was weird in his own way that Mario didn't want to deal with.

SMG3?

Maybe.

He'd probably need some sort of blackmail though.

Luckily for Mario, he always kept a copy of SMG3's gay little diary on hand, just in case.

A loud rigging bell went that snapped Mario out of his thoughts, it was the end of break!

And he didn't get to eat his spaghetti-flavoured apple :(.

Moving on from that, Mario knew what his next move was. At lunch he would kidnap SMG3, blackmail him to make a plan that would get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up, force him to help in the actual plan himself and make him promise to never tell anyone about the situation ever.

Yeah that seemed like a solid plan, what could possibly go wrong?

The next two lessons went by like SMG4 and SMG3's will-they-won't-they relationship that will probably never be canonized because of half of the fandom's homophobicness and their insistence that their brothers.

Right as Mario was considering drowning a random girl in a bucket of full of acid because of how clingy she was being, the bell went signalling it was lunch.

He ran out of the classroom with no time to lose, not even caring that the teacher yelled at him that "the bell doesn't dismiss him, she does" or whatever that crap was.

After searching for what felt like weeks, he finally found SMG3 packing up his stuff in a classroom that was now empty. His face slightly smiling at a image on his emo skull phone.

It was now his chance!

Mario grabbed a black bag out of thin air and, without SMG3 noticing, put it on SMG3's head and tightened it.

Now all he needed to do was find a dark, empty room that no-one would dare walk near to.

The broom closet! (DID YOU GET THE BROOM CLOSET ENDING? THE BROOM CLOSET- The author is then choked to death because they referenced another piece of media)

Dragging SMG3's lifeless body that definitely was losing oxygen by the second and not at all trying to hide himself, waving to others whenever they passed who just chalked it up to be Mario being Mario. When he finally reached the broom closet, he dumped the poor man in it, locking himself and SMG3 inside.

After finding a chair that definitely looked out of place in a broom closet that only held brooms, he placed SMG3 on it and tied his hands behind the chair with some spare rope.

Realising he needed SMG3 to talk during this blackmailing, Mario finally took the black bag off of SMG3's head.

"What the hell Mario?" SMG3 shouted after panting for oxygen for 4 minutes straight, his voice not being heard from the outside as the closet was noise cancelling.

"Mario wants you do to something for him." Mario said sinisterly, which was hard to tell due to his voice only being voice clips.

"Hell no I'll do something for you! Last time I did so I was humiliated on the internet!" SMG3 argued, not wanting anything to do with Mario.

"Well.. Mario has your gay diary sooo.. :D" Mario said, grabbing the copy of SMG3's notebook out of his skirt that has pockets.

SMG3 immediately freezed up, a pink blush spreading around his checks.

"Y-you wouldn't leak that would you?" SMG3 asked, sounding extremely nervous. No one could see his deepest and darkest thoughts and know about his massive crush on SMG4.

"I won't if you do this for me.." Mario stated as menacingly as he could, leaning down to SMG3.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife...

"Fine... I'll do it..." He said, giving in to Mario's demands.

"Yippeee!!" Mario squeaked, though he was sad he didn't get to use his brand new cringe memes machine to torture SMG3 with but he could use it at another time.

"What do you want me to do then? Make spaghetti for you? Force me to a dumb challenge? Humiliate myself on camera?" SMG3 asked.

"Help me commit murder." Mario said blankly.

"Yeah sure why not." SMG3 stated, he selled bombs on the black market for a living, murder wasn't that extreme that he wouldn't do it. "Who is it and what's the plan?"

"Actually I wanted you to make a plan for me" Mario rubbed the back of his head, pulling a silly face while doing so.

"Of course you did.." He said, not surprised at all.

"Well to be honest, I need your help to get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up so I can go kill Orange Juice." Mario stated, extremely casually.

"Honestly wouldn't take you for a yandere type of guy"

"The author's friend thought it be funny."

"Well, I've already thought of some ideas so let's plan this!"

30 minutes later and they had already made a Plan A, a Plan B for if it goes wrong, a Plan C etc. Now all they needed to do was set it into motion...

(part 3 coming whenever I feel like it babieee-)

[thelostgirl21]

How to solve the whole situation once they've found Ciri...

Jaskier: I think Ciri should marry Radovid.

Geralt: Are you insane? He's way too old for -

Radovid: If I may, he's talking about a purely political alliance. I can assure you I'm gay, and I've got absolutely no matrimonial interest in your daughter. I do, however, so happen to have a kingdom that I'd very much love to abdicate from in favor of a queen that might actually have an interest in running it.

Ciri: I could use a kingdom! One that would treat elves, dwarves and humans as equals...

Jaskier: See? She'd make a great queen! They get married, Radovid renounces the throne, they divorce, Ciri inherits Redania - and with it the most powerful army in the North to keep her safe... Oooh! And Yennefer could be her mage adviser!

Yennefer: You sound like you've been giving this way too much thought...

Geralt: Wait. Redania legalized divorce?

Jaskier: And gay marriage, too. *Tries to sound casual about it.* Not that this is, you know, at all relevant to the the current situation.

Geralt: And why should we believe the King of Redania would be keen on giving up power so easily?

Radovid: Look, all I really wanted was a pretty song...

Geralt: *Eyes him suspiciously*

Jaskier: No, he's being honest. Had my doubts, too, but turns out all he really wanted, at first, was a pretty song.

Geralt: *Slowly realizes what this is about, an amused glint in his eyes as he looks back at him.* I thought you didn't do pretty?

Jaskier: *Dramatically throws his arms in the air, slightly annoyed.* Well, apparently I do now, don't I?

Radovid: *Smirking smuggly* I'm "pretty".

Ciri: *Totally missing the innuendo* You really are!

Radovid: *Delighted and preening* Thank you.

Yennefer: *Snorts*

Yarpen: *Points to Jaskier and Radovid* Wait. Has the lute-playing walloper been fucking a King?

Geralt: *Groans and sighs* Again, real subtle, Yarpen.

Yarpen: *Whisling while looking at Jaskier, somewhat impressed.* Didn't think you'd have it in you, friend!

Radovid: Well, technically -

Jaskier: Aaand on that note! I'll also need Ciri to divorce him, so I can marry him after.

Ciri: *Excitedly* You two are getting married?

Jaskier: Only if you are! Which, I'm aware, makes very little sense...

Radovid: I actually did offer to marry him first - and have Redania become the first kingdom to have two kings - but that triggered a bit of a panic attack.

Jaskier: Look, I stopped using that viscount title and left nobility behind for a reason. If Ciri can make room in the castle for a retired king and his traveling bard, I'd be fine spending a few weeks or even months living at court from time to time. Especially at first, so Radovid can help her get settled and update her on the most important issues that need to be addressed and resolved in the kingdom.

Ciri: Of course you'd always have a home here, and I wouldn't just kick Radovid out! Actually, would it be okay for me to let him keep his prince title? Just in case anything happens to me, and -

Yennefer: *Firmly* Nothing's going to happen to you.

Ciri: Yeah but -

Geralt: No buts. We won't allow it.

Ciri: What if I accidentally portal myself to another dimension? Wouldn't want to force me to leave the Kingdom unattended until I get back, would you?

Jaskier: Hate to say it, but she does have a point.

Radovid: Look, if that would give the Princess some peace of mind to have someone willing to be holding the fort in case of emergencies... But, if that were to happen, I'd be needing Jaskier's help.

Jaskier: *Shrugs* I mean, I guess that would work. It's not that I don't want to get involved in making people's lives better in the kingdom, or share in any of those responsibilities. It's just that, no matter how much I love any of you guys - and I really do love you - I tend to get quite antsy and unpleasant confined to a single location for too long.

Radovid: And personally, I've always wanted to travel, meet different people, and experience some of the tales that have inspired Jaskier's songs for myself.

Geralt: You know he makes a lot of those things up, right?

Radovid: *Shrugs* I think Jaskier's always told those stories the way he sees them - for what they are or mean to him according to his own emotional truth, rather than facts. For example, I've always thought that "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher" was about how the world tends to forget that, behind every larger-than-life heroic figure, there's often just someone that needs to be looked after, too, offered a drink from time to time, listened to, and treated as a friend. If accuracy or factually reporting events had been his goal, then he'd have become a historian, not a bard.

Yennefer: That's... surprisingly insightful.

Jaskier: *Swooning* I know... *Sighs happily* He really is quite brilliant, isn't he?

Radovid: *Blushes brightly* I take it my humble interpretation's not too far off?

Jaskier: *Leans in to whisper into his ear.* I'll let you know just how close you got later...

Geralt: *Confused* Okay, what's actually happening here?

Ciri: *Chuckles* It's called poetry.

Jaskier: *Dreamily, mostly to himself* You'd have to be a spoon to get it...

Radovid: *Now also confused* Wait. What? Now I don't get it.

Jaskier: *Winces slightly* Sorry. That one's on me, you're missing context. You're a spoon, Geralt's a hammer - just...

Radovid: ...different tools for different purposes?

Jaskier: *Makes a half strangled noise, as his legs threaten to give up on him.*

Yarpen: *Motioning to Jaskier while looking at Yennefer, bit puzzled* Does your bard usually do that?

Yennefer: *Looking deep in thoughts, seemingly analysing the situation* Not that I've ever been aware of.

Geralt: Yeah, no. That's new.

Ciri: *Incredulously* You've been travelling with him for, like, over 20 years, and you're telling me you've never seen him have a crush before?

Yennefer: Oh! Oh. Yeah, that's um - okay. I think you're right - I mean, I can see the nuance.

Jaskier (*slowly coming back to himself*) & Geralt: What nuance?

Yennefer: *Innocently* Nothing! Just enjoy your spoon, bard. I'll explain it to the hammer later.

Geralt: *Huffs thoughtfully*

Jaskier: *Still looking unsure* Alright...

Yarpen: You know what, I think it's safer if I don't know.

Radovid: I'm actually not entirely sure I follow...

Yennefer: *Uses magic to telepathically communicate with Radovid, making him blush even brighter.*

Radovid: No, I mean, that seems...

Yennever: *Continues to telepathically communicate with him, looking fondly amused, and just the slightest bit smug.*

Radovid: *Bashfully* I'll ah, I'll take your word for it, and thank you...

Jaskier: What did she just say?

Radovid: Nothing bad, and I'll tell you one day, when the time's right, I promise.

Jaskier: *Doesn't look quite convinced.*

Yennefer: *Rolls eyes* I promise it's fine, Pankratz. Now stop pouting!

Jaskier: *Sighs dramatically* Fine!

Radovid: But,to go back to the whole political royal union thing, I did look to see if I could just hand the kingdom over to Ciri - simply name a successor and step down. Sadly, changing the laws of succession would appear to be a complete nightmare!

Geralt: Meaning we have to trust that you'll honor your end of the agreement, and -

Yarpen: What? You really think that King's going to attempt to stay married to your kid with the amount of eye fucking that's been happening between him and your bard?

Geralt: *Groans* Yarpen, for fuck's sake!

Yennefer: That's a bit of a crude way to put it, but he's got a point.

Geralt: You know Dijsktra and Philippa won't be happy about this, right?

Jaskier: Yeah, well, good thing you and Yennefer are scarier than Dijsktra and Philippa.

Ciri: *Crosses arms on her chest, pointedly looking at Jaskier* Why are you overlooking the fact that I'd totally rip their spines out if they tried to come after you and hurt my family?

Jaskier: Gods, I love you kid! *Pulls Ciri into a tight hug*

Radovid: Didn't you say Yennefer was the scary one?

Jaskier: Like mother, like daughter.

Yarpen: *Proudly* I actually taught the cub how to rip out spines.

Geralt: *Gives two vigorous pats on Radovid's shoulder, almost making him fall over* Welcome to the family, Radovid! *Whispering omninously* But, should you ever try to hurt Jaskier or Ciri, trust me, you'll be wishing she ripped out your spine.

Yennefer: Yes, because I know how to eternally trap souls into an infernal dimension.

Radovid: *Hesitating* That's... oddly reassuring. *Visibly relaxing while looking at Jaskier* You were right, love - Dijsktra and Philippa aren't so scary after all, are they?

Jaskier: *Smuggly* Told you!

Yennefer: Are we sure we shouldn't have been warning Jaskier not to hurt him?

Geralt: Hmm... I was just thinking that, too.

[petrichor-idyllic]

heyyy i love your writing and your imagines i was thinking a headcanon of the tmr boys with fem reader of how clingy they are with their girlfriends and maybe including smut

Absolutely, I can. Though, no Newt here as he is confirmed to be gay by James Dashner and I am uncomfortable and don't agree with changing that (I have made this clear on my blog too and there is more information regarding this in my masterlist lol.)

But for all the other boys- absolutely.

MINE

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Established relationships.

WARNINGS: Sexual themes and spicey content, inappropriate language, possessiveness and clingy behaviour.

THOMAS

Thomas moves fast, he always has done ever since he arrived, so he isn't exactly clingy.

It doesn't help when he becomes a Runner.

But he is observant.

With his rapid incline of a controversial nature, spending time with you is less frequent than he would want it to be. But he's always got his eye on you whenever he's in the Glade.

Recklessness is not foreign to him and he gets shit done.

But when he is with you, he always stands close, hand hooked on your belt straps, hands interlocked, your head resting on his shoulder.

He likes to make sure he knows you're taken, but he isn't possessive.

He doesn't have time to be possessive but he doesn't need to be. You can take care of yourself.

And he trusts you.

Though when someone does flirt with you, he is known to grab your hand and lead you away.

Making out in the Deadheads is a common occurrence.

Thomas doesn't want to take anything too far so you normally end up taking the lead in more intimate encounters.

Unless he's jealous.

He can be needy and bold after seeing another Glader looking at you, finally gaining some dominance and turning you into putty in his hands.

These moments are normally few and far between because people know better, but you do enjoy seeing this side to him, though you'd never admit it.

MINHO

Oh, God. Where to start?

Like Thomas, Minho is busy and probably one of the most stressed out people in the Glade.

He could literally die every day he goes to work.

So, yeah, stressful.

Which means that his moments with you are precious and he takes every opportunity he can to be around you.

If the Doors are closed, Minho is with you.

People are weirded out when he isn't.

"Where's your guard dog?"

His love language is absolutely physical touch.

He would absolutely always be touching you. His hand on your waist, standing behind you and hugging you, pulling you closer to him whenever he deems necessary.

Possessiveness is almost second nature to him. Anyone that so much as looks at you for too long ends up on Minho's radar.

Minho is big on making sure you're comfortable, but he is also more forceful and dominant.

He's easy to rile up. In more ways than one.

He has his ways of making sure everyone- and I mean everyone -knows who you picked.

And why.

The Gladers are haunted by the load noises coming from his hut during the night.

He often leaves hickeys all over your neck and chest area and the bruises on your wrists often raise eyebrows throughout the Glade.

Not that anyone has the balls to comment, though.

GALLY

Personally, I can't see Gally being a clingy dude.

He wants to be the tough guy that people fear, and always hanging off of his girlfriend is going to kill that vibe.

That doesn't mean he isn't possessive, though.

He'd definitely get into fights and scraps because someone decided to flirt with you.

There's been several times that he's kicked the ever-living shit out of someone because they wouldn't respect your boundaries.

He tends to observe from a distance, and somehow always appears whenever someone pushes it.

It's like he appears out of thin air to bestow the wrath of a thousand suns onto whatever poor soul happens to have your attention for a second.

He might not be clingy in the public eye, but in private is a different story.

He loves cuddling.

Like the man has a problem.

He loves feeling your skin and having you in his arms. He becomes like a puppy desperate for attention whenever the two of you are alone.

You adore seeing this side to him.

He is a secret simp.

And God forbid you break up and tell someone.

You wouldn't. But still.

Even when it comes to sex, he becomes a gentle giant in your presence.

He cares for your needs and wants before he even considers his own satisfaction.

The other boys often wonder why you picked him and what you see in the glorified bully.

But you know why.

And that's all that matters.

FRYPAN

In short, yes, Frypan is clingy.

The lovable cook isn't scared to show how much everyone means to him, and you are no exception

He spends every second of every day talking to you or thinking about you.

The day you started dating everyone was complaining that dinner wasn't cooked in time.

He often sneaks away from the kitchen to visit you at your job.

This causes problems on both parts and Alby has shouted at you multiple times for it.

He's such a sweet heart and loves making you little meals and sweet foods for you to sneakily eat whilst at work

You get the best of Frypan's meals. He makes sure to give you the best bits.

He can be insecure.

Fry doesn't think he's attractive and has some self-esteem issues, especially when he compares himself to Minho and the other Runners.

He knows you love him though. He has no doubt about that.

Similar to Gally, he basically worships you in the bedroom.

He doesn't even care about his own pleasure as long as his girl is happy.

Since he's completely inexperienced (they all are, I know) he's eager to learn and listen to you and your body more than anything.

He would do anything for you.

He's a precious love-struck boy who is also hilarious and well meaning.

You couldn't ask for a better boyfriend.

ALBY

Alby is obviously not clingy.

He's always preoccupied, but he's also just not that kind of person.

Of course, he looks after you and goes easier on you than the other Gladers, but you barely see him until you're going to bed together.

He doesn't need to be concerned either.

You're dating the leader- the only person in the entire Glade that everyone listens to.

The Gladers don't dare try anything with you.

Most of them don't even talk to you.

It's safer that way.

On the one occasion that someone did flirt with you, they were put in the Slammer for a week.

Newt found it funny.

Alby isn't really a passionate person either.

But when you get him going?

Damn.

There's no stopping him.

He's in charge. Always. And he knows how to get what he wants.

He'll have your legs shaking and gasping for air before he's even taken any clothes off.

Being with the big boss has its perks, I guess.

Some more headcanons for my boys. Keep the requests coming, I love seeing you guys enjoy my writing- it brings me so much joy.

I hope you enjoyed :))

[the-whispers-of-death]

prince!stone who's father is still the same douchebag, but now way, way more powerful

king!stone who loses his father and now, has the biggest responsibility in the kingdom, which means that now, he needs to have his security increased as well

king!stone who connects a little bit too much with royal guard!reader, a man known dor his excellent skills as a royal guard because he has years of experience

(also this can be so angsty because even knowing that stone is gay he'll be forced to marry a woman to continue the royal family's lineage but we can ignore that for now)

Well, anon, it won't be so angsty, since Stone is a trans man. We'll just have him not have his bottom surgery in this version, which means we can write Stone getting pregnant by Royal Guard!Reader. I mean so there's no angst and oh, look! A Stone who hasn't been kicked out by his father! What a rare version.

King!Stone had to hire an entire new Royal Guard when his father was dead, because if there was anything he learned from his predecessor, it was to be extremely paranoid. So in order to soothe his paranoia, he had to get a Royal Guard that was his. Loyal to him only, not like the old Royal Guard who were loyal to his late father.

In his search for new guards to be on his Royal Guard, he finds you, a soldier who has several years of experience of being the general of the kingdom's military. He had been searching for a new Head of the Royal Guard who was experienced but hadn't been serving under his father and it seemed like you were just the man for the job.

So you are summoned to the throne room, Stone filling out the throne with his burly body as he sits confidently like his late father had. You're reverent towards him, sensing a softness hidden beneath his cold and stoic demeanor. A softness that you wanted to protect.

He is enamored with you, the way you stood tall and strong. The way your words are blunt like his, honest to a fault. He needs someone kind, but someone who was honest. He never trusted those who delved in the niceties, in the fakeness of being polite for the sake of being polite.

He has been listening to so many soldiers pleading their case to join his Royal Guard, most of them kissing his ass because they thought he'd respond better to it, so you are a breath of fresh air. There is a sincerity in your talk of being loyal to him that can't be faked and he likes that about you.

So he is quick to offer you the position, which you so graciously take. He sends one of his best servants to guide you to your new bedchambers, watching you leave the throne room with a hidden glint in his brown eyes. Yes, he had a feeling he would not regret giving you the position of Head Guard.

[ohmtoff]

omg ur muslim??? can u write nick x muslim bf fic or hc anything

OMG???? ANON ILY LMFAAOO I LAUGHED SO HARD AT THIS BUT I IMMEDIATELY STARTED THINKING AB IT BC I DID HAVE AN EX WHO’s HINDU. important to note that im indonesian so my muslim experiences are probably gna be kinda different than others but ill try to make it as general as possible

- When you first started talking to him he was so confused on whether you were actually flirting with him or were you just overly friendly. When you mentioned in passing that you’re muslim he was convinced you’re straight bc he thought no way you could be muslim and gay (he’s white american so i’m 80% convinced he actually thinks like this lol)

- You flirt and flirt and flirt but the idiot convinces himself you were just really comfortable with your masculinity that you can compliment him, caress his face, touch his hair, stare at him for hours, and go on little dates with him without being gay💀 He would laugh off all your advances and you would just get so defeated and think damn he’s rlly not into me when actually he would scream and kick his footsies into the air everytime he sees a picture of you.

- You were in the middle of staring into his ocean blue eyes when you can feel both your and his breath hitching in the space between. Nick was blushing and nervously look around the room and you can’t help but think he’s just the prettiest boy ever so you thought “fuck it” and confessed. he was so shocked but so so sooo happy when you confessed, he excitedly said yes he definitely wants to be your boyfriend.

- it was in the middle of watching a series with him when you excused yourself to go pray. atp he was still confused on how does being muslim while queer work but he doesn’t know how to bring it up, he’s scared of being offensive. You also knew he was curious from how he has this thinking face whenever you mention anything islam related so you decide to explain to him that you did struggle a lot with faith crisis when discovering your sexuality.

you explained more on how you did have a phase where you hated religion and how it’s hateful. that was before you learned Islam and read the Qur’an on your own, without the interpretation of hateful people and privileged men who skew the teachings to benefit them. so, you learned that your relationship with God is personal and intimate, never one to be judged by any mortal, and more. now, your relationship with Islam is better than ever. (yes this is a self projection of my own relationship with religion lmao) He understands and from that moment on he would try to get out of his way to learn more about Islam and your culture so that he could understand you better.

- You regularly say “Wallahi” “Inshallah” “Alhamdulillah” everyday and he would adopt it too eventually and you would giggle and think it’s the funniest shit ever bc more often than not he would get the use of the phrase wrong, he would just think it’s like random arabic filler words😭

- Ramadan arrives he’s the most supportive partner you can think of during Ramadhan. He’d try to help you cook and order food for suhoor and iftar, and he’d try to support you by not eating in front of you.

“Babe, it’s okay for you to eat in front of me, that’s literally the point of Ramadhan”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not hungry anyways”

- Nick was, actually, fucking starving.

- The first week of Ramadhan passes and he doesn’t feel as fatigued and hungry anymore. He doesn’t even remember to eat sometimes, basically he fasts with you. Fasting became a routine for him and he quite enjoys it eventually.

“I’m gonna be so skinny at the end of the month”

- He gained weight😭 the huge iftar meals with your parents/ friends or just both of you going to a restaurant did more thickening than slimming his body. If you’re close with your parents, you introduce Nick to your parents during iftar and your mom forces the boy to try and eat all the food. He’s not mad though bc your family’s food is like nothing he’s ever had before and he EATS IT UPPP.

- Whenever you try to be sneaky and break your fast he would scold you😭😭😭 pulling out hadiths and out-muslim you

“Nick, you’re not even muslim!”

“So? That’s not halal! Astaghfirullah”

“What?!”

- The hardest thing for him during the month is not gossiping with you. You know he’s a natural hater at heart so when he sees gossipable activities he is CLENCHING trying not to tell you. When it’s iftar he screamssss and pulls out the whole tea with bulletpoints and a powerpoint slide

a/n: that’s all i got for now hope you enjoy it anon i did enjoy thinking ab this its so funny

[tf2-oneshots]

Heavy and Medic experience the magical power of WEED. They also get drunk. So, in other words, Get high, do gay sex. Take that however you want.

Holy fuck…weed yaoi

Warnings: alcohol, weed

Rating: teen and up

Sniper takes out a small batch of brownies from the oven, sliding the metal tray onto the stove. Oven mittens removed, he uses one to fan them. While they cool, he leans against the counter to wait. The batch isn’t a normal one. These are pot brownies, and he’ll be damned if someone steals from him.

Elbows on the counter, the bushman miscalculates and accidentally hits the hot tray. He hisses, yanking the arm away from it. Sniper looks at the spot where a nasty burn forms. He runs it under cold water in the sink, but it remains.

“Piss…” A glance to the brownies. He can sneak off just for a few minutes, right? They’re still too hot for anyone to eat. He’ll pop into Medic’s office, get fixed up, and come right back. Simple as that.

Huffing, Sniper leaves the kitchen in search of the German doctor. Right as he passes through the left doorway, Medic enters with Heavy from the right. The sweet smell of brownies wafting through the air vents made it all the way to the common room they were just sitting in.

“Ohoho! They look delicious.” Medic takes a whiff, grinning at the delectable brownies just laying out in the kitchen. Pyro must have made the batch. On occasion, they leave cupcakes or cookies by the stove for the team to enjoy.

Heavy takes out a knife, carefully cutting the tray into even squares. On a plate, he gives himself a corner piece and Medic a center piece. The doctor also grabs them a few beers from their fridge, and the two retreat to Heavy’s bedroom. As they sink their teeth into the thick chocolate, the two are blissfully unaware of the side effects yet to come.

Half an hour later, everything kicks in.

“Misha…this isn’t my room.” Spread eagle on the bedroom floor, Medic stares wide eyed at the ceiling. He blinks, brain fuzzy from alcohol and marijuana. The older man sits upright, frantically turning his head left and right. Where are his birds? The skeleton display he keeps by the door? His blanket—where’s that damn blanket he bought while fleeing Germany?!

“Is…my room.” Comes the answer from the bed. Medic gasps, climbing up to see Heavy barely keeping his eyes open. The giant groans from the shift. Where the hell is his voice? It feels like his tongue was replaced with a brick.

Medic grips the bed, practically clinging to the frame for dear life. He presses tightly to the sheets, heart racing. Is this a heart attack? Dear god, it is! Why is he having a heart attack? Is he going to die?

“Misha, Misha! I’m floating!” Despite the claim, Medic remains firmly on the ground. He then attempts to shove himself under the bed to keep himself from becoming airborne. While these antics occur, Heavy begins laughing.

“Doktor…Doktor is on ground!” A wheeze. When has he ever wheezed? Heavy laughs harder as Medic scrambles for purchase, fighting whatever force has him convinced that he’s floating away. It actually sounds pretty nice when Heavy thinks about it. Just drifting aimlessly through the clouds…

“Don’t laugh! I can’t feel my legs!” Where are they?! Medic looks under the bed, yanking a pant leg to confirm that his legs are in fact attached to himself. Something is trying to take his legs, isn’t it? Before he can kick at the air, the Russian drags the doctor out from under the bed and into his arms.

“Hm….Heavy keep Doktor safe.” Its like being cuddled by a bear. A really, really high bear that’s also a little drunk. Heavy reaches for his half empty beer, enjoying the warmth it sends through his body. Beer is so nice. Why can’t it taste this way all the time?

“Are we having sex?” He feels like jelly, or maybe a pudding of sorts. Medic clings to his lover to make sure that he isn’t actually turning to pudding. Maybe this is just a really slow, fully clothed version of sex. Feels nice. That is, until the door opens.

“Knew it. Damnit, you two ate weed brownies.” Medic flounders, fighting to cover himself despite being fully dressed. Heavy laughs loudly, accidentally rolling off the bed and crushing Medic. The loud scream from his smaller lover is cut off by his massive chest muffling the man.

“You’ll be fine by tomorrow. Drink some bloody water and stay the hell away from my edibles.” The door slams shut as Sniper marches away. He returns to the kitchen only to see two more squares taken out from the tray. Wankers.

[shizuostrans]

(Here's my translation for the infamous succubus-taking-form-of-Izaya part of Duramp! I will try to do the other parts later, but it is LONG. t/n under the readmore.)

Duramp! (Shizuo's Encounter)

Ikebukuro, in front of Seibu Department Store

All things considered, this city called Tokyo is very crowded with people. It's far different from that rural island.¹ I'd say in lieu of that, the presence of non-human beings here is faint amongst them.

Oh, there he is.

Hmm, he's wearing sunglasses, but he looks like a well-behaved man.² There's also the fact that he’s related to that boy, so I shouldn’t have to worry.

Alright then, let’s copy his desires onto my own body, just as I did with the boy named Mikado a while ago.

Now, what form does this man desire…

...a man?

What the hell? He’s gay?

Ah, but that’s fine, love can take any form.

Besides, I was starting to get hungry, and I suppose once in a while it could be nice to indulge in an unusual situation between two men.

And from what I've heard, it's said that same-sex couples have deeper and more sordid desires swirling around in them.

Well, with that in mind––

"Hey."

I changed myself into the form the man with sunglasses desired, stood in front of him, and shot him a smile.

I made sure that no one other than the man with sunglasses would be able to see me. Unlike the unfortunate case with that Mikado boy, this time there won’t be any interferences, and I'll be able to lure him somewhere and––

"Iiizaaayaaaa..."

Hehe, such a slack-jawed smile. He has no idea I’m an imposter.

Well, now that he’s let his guard down³, I’ll have to read this man's mind for his information on the form I'm disguised as.

It would be quicker if I could read everything before I transformed, but unfortunately I don't have that kind of power right now.

However, if the other person drops their guard like this―

"I wanted to see you. Really wanted to see you, Iiizayaaa..."

Hmm? That’s odd. This man has not yet opened his mind to meeyaGLrukGAaЭΞ‡――

"No, seriously, I’ve been pissed off something fierce! IZAYAAAA! I was hoping I could beat you to a pulp!"

―Uh-oh.

―This, it isn’t about love or anything of the sort!

―He only desired this man's looks as an opponent he wanted to throttle!

By the time I realized my mistake, it was already too late. The man with sunglasses grabbed me by the collar before I could dispel the illusion and lifted me, and without pause, I was raised overhead and thrown high into the air. For a moment, the ground became a distant thing.

How― my wings― I had to let my wings out. Before I crashed to the ground, I had to reveal my true form, spread my wings and soar into the air――

This man who has yet to see past the designation⁴ will see my true form, but now wasn't the time to be saying thaaaahAHAAaHhAWaWAaAAhaAHAHHHHHHH

"You really are a guy with perfect timing for everything! It pisses me the hell off!"

A shock. A shock went through my body. The man with sunglasses jumped up after me and drove me into the asphalt with such immense force it was like slam dunking me into a basketball hoop.⁵ He made a clean landing on his feet and lifted his leg high up towards me.

You fool, I am still a succubus, no human’s kick can―

"Die."

"GUHAH!?"

"Die."

Wait... hold...

"Die."

What's with this guy’s attack power!?

"Die."

This is way worse than the vampires in the Castle!⁶

"Die."

He's lost interest in kicking me, and now he's moved to straddle on top of me and wallop me in the face!

"Die."

I-I-I– I have to shed this form q-q-q-q-quickly

"Die."

Nonono– no good, the shock and pain are making it too hard to concentrate...

"Die." Die, die, die!

"Die." Die!

"Die."

S-s-s-save me, s-s-s-somebody―

♂♀

An enormous man called out from behind Shizuo Heiwajima, who still hadn't budged from his mounted position.⁷

"Hello, Shizoo-oh. What are you doing?"

"Diediediedie...yeah? What do you want, Simon? Look, Izaya’s not fighting back at all today, so I’m taking my chance to go ahead and kill him about a hundred times..."

"If Izaya, who's eating sushi now at our restaurant?"

"Eh?"

At Simon's words, a black man dressed as a chef, Shizuo turned puzzled eyes towards him, then dropped his gaze back down below.

"...huh?"

"Wrung dry⁸, yes?"

"...So then who's this guy?"

"Who knows?"

Simon slowly shook his head upon seeing the succubus, no longer able to hide herself from the others.

Until a few moments ago, she had the face of Izaya Orihara himself, but now her face was swollen and without any semblance of his facial features.

"Um, hey..."

With an awkward look on his face, Shizuo slowly unseated himself from his mounted position and reached his hand out to the succubus, but–

"Hhi... HYAAAAaAaaAHH!"

The succubus stood up with a strange scream and ran off into the crowd with inhuman speed.

"......?"

"Ooh, that quick moving, very much could be Izaya."

Left behind in the dust, Shizuo and Simon looked at each other and muttered between themselves.

"...was that a doppelganger? Huh, you don't think we've got the wrong guy, do you?"

"Sus-pi-scous... Shizuo hitting empty ground when I call out to him, but that person then suddenly appearing...?"

Translation notes:

[¹] Reference to Growerth from Vamp! and is the primary setting of the series.

[²] Sunglasses are considered a trademark accessory for delinquents.

[³] The expression used is 心を許す meaning "to allow your heart(/spirit/mind) to be open" and is used to signify trust or relaxing one's guard.

[⁴] Earlier in Duramp! it's explained that succubi "designate" their target to become visible to them as the person they desire.

[⁵]

[⁶] Reference to Waldstein Castle from Vamp!

[⁷] The mounted position is a grappling move in jiu jitsu that involves sitting on top of your opponent to pin them to the ground.

[⁸] ボロ雑巾 lit. beat-up cleaning rag. It's a metaphor used to describe using someone until they're ragged and then throwing them away.

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - no more fighting

Hiya, would you be able to do mr evershed x student!reader who gets injured at skl? X - Anon💜

It wasn’t news to anyone who had been at the school longer enough that you had a temper, a bad temper. You lost your cool easily, you snapped and got into more than your fair share of fights.

Mr Evershed had heard stories about you from students and teachers alike, warning him off your behaviour but he wasn’t so quick to believe it.

You were always smiling or laughing, you caused a bit of trouble, listening to music or in your phone when you shouldn’t be, running through the school, but nothing too major.

It was lunch, and you were leaning against your locker when you saw Sam out the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” You said.

She was practically in tears and you stuffed your phone into your pocket and turned around to face her.

“What’s up?”

“They’re at it again! I.. I don’t know what to do!” She sobbed.

Sam threw her arms around you and you gently hugged her, running your hand up and down her back as you narrowed a small group of students on the opposite end of the hallway looking over and laughing.

“Watch my bag.”

You pulled away and pulled your blazer and hoodie off, dropping your tie on the pile of your stuff on the floor and rolled up your sleeves.

“(Y/N)…” she warned.

She knew what you were about to do and she placed a hand on your shoulder to try and stop you.

“Don’t! You’ll get suspended!”

“They shouldn’t be making fun of people for being gay, let’s see how funny they think it is when they’re on that floor.”

Sam tried to keep you back and she couldn’t and students started to crowd around realising what you were about to do.

Walking over to group you placed your hand in the lockers next to you.

“What do you want?” One of the girls scoffed.

You looked at her and scoffed back.

“You need to go back to the circus love, that much makeup? No wonder you can’t see your rat face in the mirror.”

She scoffed and stepped back and one of the boys stepped forward, sneering a little at you.

“Get lost freak.”

You rolled your eyes at him and he made some snide remark about Sam and you smirked.

“So it’s you that made those comments?” You asked.

“So what? It’s weird innit.”

“No what’s weird is that face that you smell like a rubbish tip and you think all the girls are into you. Hate to break the news mate but the only thing into you is the rats living in your house.”

He swung for you, fist connecting with your face and your head snapped to the side.

Smirking, you brought a hand up to touch just under your nose to see blood on your hand and you grinned a little at him.

“That’s all I needed.”

Students started cheering about a fight, and you punched him back.

He stumbled back a few times and you grabbed his hair, kneeing him in the face he doubled over and you pulled his hair, forcing him to look up at you.

“Remember me next time you pick on someone for being gay…” you whispered.

You slammed him into the locker and let him fall to the ground and one of his friends jumped in, pushing you to the ground they started to kick you.

You groaned a little as they kept kicking and you grabbed one of their legs, pulling them to the ground.

“Right enough! That’s enough!”

A few teachers got involved, separating everyone and you got on your knees, groaning a little as you spat some blood on the floor.

“Bloody hell (Y/N)…”

Sam helped you stand up and steadied you as you fell back into the lockers.

You rested your back on them as you gasped for air a little bit, wiping the back of your hand across the face giving Sam a little grin.

“You’re an idiot!” She hissed.

“Right, you three, Mrs Carters office now!”

The three students and their friends were escorted away and Mr Evershed spun around to face you, pointing at you before pointing down the hallway.

“You my classroom!” He snapped.

He stormed away and Sam nodded, grabbing your stuff she walked to the teachers classroom with you holding the door open.

You walked in and sat down on a table, and Sam set your stuff down.

“Go Sam.”

“See you later…” she whispered.

She left and you held your hand under your nose to try and stop the blood from falling on everything around you.

Mr Evershed pointed to you.

“Wait here!” He snapped.

He stormed away and you sat there, swinging your legs back and forth a little as you waited, knowing you weren’t going it get very far.

A few minutes later he came back and he set a bunch of paper towels on the table next to you.

“Let me see.” He said.

“It’s fine, stop in no time.”

Mr Evershed said nothing, he grabbed a few pepper towels and pushed them into your free hand and started to pace the length of the classroom.

“Fighting?! Seriously?!” He said.

You rolled your eyes, covering your nose with the paper towels and grabbed another to wipe some of the blood on your shirt.

Mr Evershed turned to look at you, a bloodied mess.

“You think it’s acceptable?” He said.

“He punched me first.”

“You bounced the boys head of a bloody locker (Y/N)!” He hissed.

“So what? He shouldn’t be picking on people for who they are should he?”

“You could be suspended!”

You shrugged a little, tossing the paper towels into the bin, you looked at him.

Mr Evershed walked over and stood in front of you.

“Tilt your head up.”

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate sir?”

“(Y/N) I need to see if you’ve got a broke nose or not.”

You did as he said, and he spent a few minutes carefully inspected your nose, making sure it was okay before he grabbed some more paper towels.

He held them to your nose and you took them from him to hold them in place.

“Right I’m calling your parents, I can try talk Mrs Carter out of suspending you but given your reputation I doubt that’s possible. Seriously? Fighting?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been suspended for it. Parents told me to fight for what’s right innit.”

“I don’t think they meant literally fighting.”

You grinned at him a little and he sighed, shaking his head at you.

“You need change your attitude, right? You can’t go round throwing fists at anyone who gets on your nerves. Get your stuff we’re going to Mrs Carter, she should be done with the others.”

You got down from the table and leant down to pick up your stuff.

A blinding pain fill you and you yelled in pain, dropping to your knees as you wrapped an arm around your ribs, forehead resting in the floor.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!”

Mr Evershed dropped down next to you, fumbling for his phone his called Mrs Carter first, telling her to come to his classroom.

He hung up and set his phone down, and he place a hand on your back.

You drew a small breath and tried to pushed yourself from floor, but the moment you stood up you nearly passed out.

Mr Evershed caught you and Mrs Carter rushed into the room.

“What the bloody hell is going on?!” She snapped.

“I.. I don’t know! They just fell to the floor!” He rushed out.

He gently sat you down and you pushed him away, trying to stand up again.

The two teachers had to fight to get you to sit back down, you leant against one of the tables.

“Right we’re calling an ambulance.” Mrs Carter said.

She quickly got on her phone and you coughed a little, wincing in pain as you turned to the other teacher.

“I think you’ve cracked or broken a few ribs, just sit still yeah?” He asked.

You didn’t have it in you to try and fight him in this one, so you nodded, groaning in pain as another sharp stab of pain washed over you.

“Alright, alright…” he whispered.

He took his blazer off and got you to gently lean forward, putting it behind your back for more comfort.

“Just Breathe…” he whispered.

You slowly nodded and rested your head back, staring at the wall as you took ragged breaths.

You’d never felt someone so painful before, it hurt, it hurt so much you had tears falling from your face.

“They’re coming but they said it could take a few hours.” Mrs Carter sighed.

“A few hours?! They can hardly breath!”

“I know! I know! But we can’t move them either! They said to keep (Y/N) sat upright, keep them talking and awake.”

Mrs Carter walked over and knelt down, placing a hand on your arm.

“This is why I told you to stop.” She said softly.

You just nodded and she got up again, going to handle the students that were waiting outside for their class to start.

Mr Evershed looked at you.

“You’ve got to stop the fighting (Y/N), please?”

“I’m.. im.. sorry… I’m sorry..” you whispered.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s okay, alright? It’s going to be okay, alright?”

“Sir.. I.. I.. I’m scared… I’m so scared…”

He reached out and took your hand, letting you grip his hand tightly as you turned to look at him, breathing shakily.

“You don’t have to be scared, alright? I’m here, I’m not going anywhere…”

Mr Evershed sat with you while you waited for the ambulance, keeping you talking and telling you it was going to be okay.

He’d never seen someone so scared, so in pain before in his life, and he couldn’t just leave you sat there in pain by yourself.

He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He didn’t see a student with no future, a student with anger issues that couldn’t be reached.

He saw a student, hurt, crying, doing anything to ask for help, anything for someone to pay even a little bit of attention to them even if it meant going about it all the wrong ways.

The ambulance came and you looked at him.

“Don’t go.. don’t go…” you begged.

He looked at you then to Mrs Carter and she slowly nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

With that he followed you out of the school and to his car to race to the hospital so you weren’t alone.

But the moment he was able to see you and talk to you he was going to get to the bottom of this behaviour, the real reason you were the way you were because he knew that it wasn’t the real you.

He knew there was something else going on, and after seeing what happened today, he was going to do everything in his power as a teacher to make sure you never got into a situation like this again

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

Big fan of Billy being super strong. Like, stronger than he looks, and he looks strong.

Headcanons and au’s where he’s disabled in some aspect after s3 are so near and dear to my heart, but I also take guilty pleasure in making him an unstoppable force sometimes. Just. Billy being built like a fucking bear, but also having learned to embrace his softer side again through his partner, because he is soft somewhere in there. Always has been.

Not to say that he doesn’t still get angry.

Maybe a few years later after he graduates and is settled into an apartment with Steve (or Eddie, Jonathan, Argyle, etc.), he has more of a rapport with the party. He’s not necessarily ruffling Dustin’s hair or giving Will the gay talk, but he’s around them and they don’t mind each other. He has playful banter with Max and maybe he even finds himself shooting hoops with Lucas every now and again.

He’s friendly with these kids, long story short. So when something happens like Troy Walsh and James follow Dustin on his way over to meet up at the apartment for D&D, because Steve and Billy let the party host there sometimes, Billy gets rightfully pissed.

Catches the kids out on his lawn, Dustin pinned on his back as Troy hovers over him and all of the other kids are screaming. He yells, sharp and quick and stomps over, just in time to startle Troy back before he’s able to land even a single punch. Steve is in the background trying to help Dustin to his feet and check for any injuries while Billy just fucking glares at this kid.

“Get lost,” Billy says.

Squares his shoulders and stands his ground, firmly placed between Troy and Dustin.

The kid looks scared. He swallows, takes a careful step back after he seems to assess that Billy is less of an angry parent and more of an impatient (and reckless) older brother. But then he smirks and reaches over to smack James’ arm.

“Sorry,” he muses. “Didn’t realize the fag brigade were official nerd protectors.”

Somewhere behind Billy, Steve drops Dustin as he’s attempting to help him to his feet, quickly scrambling to grab his hand again and hoist him up. Because he knows something that even Billy himself apparently doesn’t.

The blond is nice now. Downright pleasant to be around, even. He’s worked like hell to get here and he prides himself on being reformed. On being better than he used to be.

Something in his brain switches off. Steve sets a hand on his shoulder and Billy shrugs it off, taking a large stride forward and snatching the collar of Troy’s shirt. He doesn’t really think as he does it. Yanks him forward and grabs his thigh, and hoists him up into the air, kicking and screaming to no avail.

Like this kid weighs nothing at all.

James has retreated to the curb, yelling to put him down, put him down!

But Billy doesn’t budge. He merely bends his elbows and lowers Troy just enough to get their faces close.

In this blinding, white hot rage as brilliant as the glare off of a windshield in summer, Billy can’t even get the words out. Clenches his jaw. Unclenches. Fights the urge to throw this kid straight into the fucking sun.

Then he hears Steve behind him again, ushering the kids back and towards the house.

As silly as it is, that’s what breaks him. Hearing Steve’s voice, the man he loves, simply talking. Being naturally good as Steve always has been without trying — he can put on a show of playing the supreme bitch, but it falls flat somewhere in the delivery. Always.

Because he’s sweet and kind and he cares so much and he doesn’t deserve to be called that word. That horrible, horrible word that Billy has come to hate.

But he’s never hated it like he does right now. Not when it was hurled at him in school, or at home by his own flesh and blood.

But when it was casually directed at Steve. His Steve.

That lets the words flow easy.

“Don’t come around here again,” he hisses. “Don’t talk to or so much as even look at these kids or I’ll find out about it and I will hunt you down, you little shit.” Billy’s knuckles are white and his arms are shaking, but he doesn’t relax his grip for even a second. Troy whimpers, tears streaming down his face. “Am I clear?”

“Yes sir,” Troy manages between sniffles.

Billy finally lowers him back to the earth. The kid’s legs wobble when his shoes meet the ground, and the blond is half convinced that he only stays standing because Billy keeps his fist tangled in the front of his shirt. Stares at him with stern eyes for a moment longer before he shoves him towards his friend, still standing at the curb, and sends him tumbling down on the grass.

“Get the fuck off my lawn.”

The two boys scramble to their bikes and take off down the street without their asses so much as touching their seats.

A moment of silence persists after that. Billy pushes both hands into his hair and sighs, long and frustrated, and just… stands there. The kids are all still checking on Dustin, but Steve carefully approaches his partner from behind.

He knows that Billy gets skittish sometimes when he’s angry. That he sometimes doesn’t appreciate being touched. So he carefully sets a hand on his shoulder and squeezes when he doesn’t shrug him off.

“Bill?” Steve tries. “You okay?”

Of course Steve would ask him if he’s okay. Billy says nothing for half of a beat, and when Steve gently turns him around, he’s met with two huge eyes filled to the brim with with water. Billy blinks and it all comes crashing down in under a second.

He can feel his eyes already burning. Can feel the sobs begin to stir in his chest where he tries to keep them buried unsuccessfully.

Steve just guides him forward and wraps his arms around him protectively. Cradles him close with a one hand cupped over the back of his head and the other rubbing circles into his back.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Steve croons. “You’re alright.”

Billy’s breath stutters as he slumps into Steve, thankful that the brunet is able to take his weight. He doesn’t feel like standing himself right now but he really doesn’t feel like trying to clean grass blood out of his jeans.

He isn’t sure how long they stand there, but he moans feebly when his eyes run dry. Let’s Steve push him back enough to cup his face in his hands.

Billy knows he must look ridiculous. His face always blotches his horrible red and his eyes get puffy when he cries, but Steve still smiles at him nonetheless. Brushes his thumbs over his cheekbones and admires him closely.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says hoarsely. Bites his lip to keep it from quivering. “I didn’t mean to get mad.”

“No one means to get mad, it’s just something that happens sometimes.” Steve presses their foreheads together and breathes in deep, guiding Billy’s breaths. “You can’t expect to not get mad ever, okay? The most you can do is learn how to control your reactions when you do.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, baby, we’ll work on it. For now, let’s just focus on making you feel better.”

A kiss gets pressed to his nose and Billy nods. Sniffles when Steve leans away and takes hold of his hand so he can guide him up the walkway to their porch.

Inside, the kids settle around the coffee table, still shaken up but calming down once they tap into the pantry for snacks. Steve sits Billy down on the couch and treats him like a damn princess, bringing him food and swaddling him in blankets and kissing his face until he’s sufficiently simmered down. Until his eyelids are heavy and he’s slouching into the sofa cushions.

Crying always takes it out of him. Steve seems to delight at his sleepy posture, plopping down on the couch next to him and setting his chin on his shoulder.

The kids have started working to set up their game. Dustin throws on a tape with strange medieval music that Billy would normally tease him for, but right now he can’t bring himself to care about anything other than the warm body pressing against his side.

“How’re you feeling, my boy?” Steve whispers.

Smooths a hand over the top of Billy’s blanket right over his chest and earns a little smile.

“Better.”

“Good, I really hate it when you cry. Makes me wanna fight god.” The two of them share a chuckle and Steve brushes his lips against the corner of Billy’s jaw. “I do like seeing you use your muscles, though.”

For emphasis, he finds Billy’s bicep under the blanket and squeezes it. The blond’s smile fades momentarily.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Dude, you bench pressed a whole teenager. That was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve lilts, leaning closer into his side. “And I’ve seen some pretty cool shit.”

Billy snorts. Can’t help that he’s grinning from ear to ear when Steve starts kissing him again.

“You’re crazy.”

“If by crazy you mean super smart and handsome, then yeah, consider me batshit.”

“Dork,” Billy teases. Stretches an arm around Steve’s shoulders and envelops him in the warmth of the blanket. “I bet Walsh is gonna be scared of heights now, though.”

Steve snickers.

“And fags.”

They both start giggling hysterically, only stopping when Steve sees fit to turn Billy’s face towards him and mash their lips together.

So, Billy might not be as mellowed out as he previously thought, but he’s working on it.

They’re working on it. Together.

[pizzacast]

Both Billy and Steve being send off to military school and they go to the same one. They share a room, with a bunk bed.

Steve ask “you want top or bottom?” Billy smirks and says “that depends, how big is your dick?” Steve nearly chokes on air. Billy taking the top bunk and claims it’s uncomfortable one night and forces Steve to move over on the bottom bunk so he can sleep in it.

Steve and Billy doing training. Billy raises his hand and he asks the drill sergeant “sir I’m gay. Can I get kicked out, now?”

But the drill sergeant glares. “I do not give a rats ass, boy! Straight or gay you will complete training. Now both of you get through that damn obstacle course!”

When the drill sergeant leaves, Steve rolls his eyes at Billy. “You really thought that would work?” 

[twig-tea]

Love Class 2: A Love Letter

I caught up on the last episodes of Love Class 2 and I felt like I need to give the whole show (both seasons) a rewatch because s2 had so much going on, and my attention definitely suffered in the beginning of S2 from everything else airing at the same time and the proliferation of characters. But I finished the series feeling like something special had just happened, so I wanted to sit with that for a minute and see if I could articulate why. Especially after the disappointment that was the ending of the Minato's Laundromat sequel, I wanted to process my thoughts around what made this one good.

This is not very coherent and very long, mostly because I just wanted to get it down before I got absorbed by other shows again [Spoilers for both seasons follow].

To remind/recap about Love Class 1: The first season focused on Cha Ji Woo and Lee Ro A. Ro A is a returning student who was just released from military service; he lives with Kim Nam Joon who has a crush on him and another roommate. At first, Ji Woo has a crush on Bae Yoo Na, a girl in his class who is being stalked. Her uncle works at the college and so she knows the professor, who is being pursued by one of the other (female) students in the class, Kim Hye Won.

I had forgotten most of this tbh. On rewatch, I remember how much I liked that Yoo Na and Ro A fell for Ji Woo for the same reason, and Ji Woo fell for them for similar reasons too. There is a lot more forced proximity between the leads in S1, with both the class and then the broken arm, which helps because the entire season is so short. There's a resolution with the stalker plot, a nice moment where Ji Woo is honest about how his feelings, and in the penultimate episode, Ro A decides to protect Ji Woo from himself (and homophobia) by rejecting him and disappearing.

Season one ends with a standard separation (that is only kind of earned); an explicit message from the surf shop owner: "If you keep avoiding things out of fear, you'll never experience the good things in life"; and in the last minute we get basically a standard K-drama dead fish kiss (@gabrielokun has done some very kind cropping here so it looks a bit better).

Overall it was ok. Felt very standard at the time, the leads were cute and it was nice that the love rivals Yoo Na and Nam Joon were not treated as villains in the end. The het side plot with the professor felt tacked on. Ji Woo's changing emotions towards Ro A were signposted well but felt fast, and Ro A's fear of ruining Ji Woo's life by turning him gay felt a bit overdramatic and disappearing entirely (including dropping out of class and moving) was a lot. The end left no time at all for them as a couple, so it was very unclear to me whether they'd actually last.

After rewatching S1, I need to give S2 major props for doing the sequel thing right. The show picked up on a lot of the elements of the original while being a completely stand-alone story and not repeating anything in the OG.

Really quick summary of S2 mostly for the names: Lee Hyeon and Min Wu are friends in university together who have known each other since high school. Min Wu has been trying to ignore his crush on their mutual friend Ma Ru (who went straight into the working world and then quit so got kicked out by his parents). Meanwhile Lee Hyeon has been looking for his former tutor Kim An for 2 years; Kim An appears and Lee Hyeon pursues him by joining Love & Marriage class with the help of the TA Sung Min. Sung Min is being pursued by returning student Ju Hyuk after Ju Hyuk sees him in an embarrassing situation with his pants literally down. Shenanigans ensue [many more details recapped below].

Rewatching S1 helped me realize why I liked S2 so much. In season 2, it's like they heard all the complaints and addressed them:

The only heterosexual is there to support the gays; no love rivals here (also PS Sa Ra's character was delightful; I loved the way she knew exactly what to do on those stairs during the fake date!)

All of the couples are gay and get more time overall (the whole series is longer too; 10 instead of 6 eps and some of those eps were over 30 mins each)

All of the couples also have a history together before the show starts, so all have [a varying amount of] feelings before we even begin

And because of the difference in where these couples are starting, everything happens so fast and there is so much more character development

Rather than the love & marriage class being about getting to know someone, because of Lee Hyeon and Kim An's history, the assignments from the class end up being about getting to relearn someone who has changed and you don't know why; bridging barriers and re-establishing intimacy, which was a fun twist

While the first season did a bit of talking about building relationships and forming meaningful connections, it really didn't have time to do much with this and the premise of the "love class" felt barely used. In this season these themes get explored more, with everyone at one point or another needing advice or having to work on their relationship

Of all of the characters, only one didn't know he was gay/bi going into the start of S2

All of the couples express obvious sexual desire and have sex (some before they even date, it's a miracle)

All of the couples have multiple kisses!

Homophobia isn't removed from the world entirely, but it's not a major plot point in this season

None of the couples split up right before the end; the closest is the older couple in ep8 and they reconcile by ep9 [and sidenote: did the professor drop that whatever he lost on purpose so Sung Min would see him with his nephew?!]

They essentially dedicate two episodes to revelling in the happy ending and building out what these characters are like when they are in a relationship, and I love that; no penultimate episode drama

The couples get an entire episode to triple-date and they all just relax being able to be out and comfortable together, it's extremely cute and also heartwarming and a little sad that this is the only place they can feel away from the gay boy scrutiny [this is what I meant by homophobia not being removed entirely from the world, but it's presence is in its absence rather than it being a plot point, and this was refreshing]

The couple that is in the class is out to the class by choice at the end; no more being afraid of rumours the way the original couple were in s1

The stalker plot got darker (it's one thing to stalk someone but to impersonate them at a job that could get you in trouble? Diabolical) and had more clear motivations for his character; also no police were involved in the resolution this time which felt more realistic

Both seasons deal a lot with characters holding in secrets and not communicating; but in s1 the confession from Ji Woo led to Ro A lying to him directly. In contrast, in S2 direct communication is met either with being shut down or with communication back; the other characters sometimes say it's not the time, but never punish the other character for direct communication. And in some cases the direct communication finally helps move them forward/out of misunderstandings. And not directly communicating leads to mess.

In s1 the seniors were bullies and they didn't really face any consequences; in contrast in S2 the boss at the cafe was such a bully and he got harassed into taking a break, realizing he was being horrible, and becoming a better person (and getting a love interest lolol)

In addition to all the things they did differently, there were so many things that echoed or called back to s1! Parallels to the first season:

Sa Ra gets to repeat the moral from the first season: love requires bravery. All of our couples exhibit different levels and kinds of bravery at different times, but all of them at one point or another take that leap and decide to be brave.

The storytelling strategy of flashing back to show us something we hadn't previously seen to recontextualize what we have since been shown was used once in s1 and used in all three couples at the end of every episode of season 2, as well as sometimes mid-episode.

Someone startles/disrupts the Love & Marriage class to ask to be paired with someone of the same sex in both seasons

There is ominous door-knocking in ep2 that ends up being a fake-out but works extra well as creepy because of the knocking by the stalker in s1

There are also similar moments in s1&2 where the "friend" (who is more than a friend but was rejected but still lives/lived with the love interest) stalks and surprises a character to tell them 'truths' about their loved one

The show keeps the feel of s1 in terms of the mix between cute, funny, and sinister (for better or for worse, though I think S2 balances these better)

The relationships in S2 have a lot in common with S1: there are friends who have been friends since high school one of whom is pining and the other rejects him and they agreed to be friends only who live together; rather than a teacher and student there is a returning student and TA; there is a returning student in both seasons; there is one friend out of a trio who is more of a himbo and doesn't go to their school but is still around all the time

Both seasons had a character who seemed to be unaware he was gay/bi until he was put in a position to be forced to realize it, and credit to both seasons, any gay panic was mostly off screen/tied up in figuring out their feelings, and none took place after they told their gay crush

Both seasons touched on how rumours and social isolation can affect you (though the rumours in S2 were not about being gay)

I mentioned it above, but the way the couples relax when they're all in the open and on the trip together was a really touching callback to the first season dealing with the scrutiny of homophobia (whispering, rumours); and the in-class couple showing a photo of them kissing in class is such a huge contrast to s1's couple having a photo of them feeding one another taken and shared without their consent.

Also also in s1 there was a double date near the end of the show so that was also a cute parallel!

While the bullying seniors didn't face consequences in s1, they were interrupted by various people trying to protect their love interests throughout the show. That theme of protecting your love interest from bullying continued to greater effect in S2 and I thought that was really cute!

Cameos of s1 couple and the couple from Private Lessons appeared in s2; it was unclear to me whether the couple from s1 was reprising their roles (though I assume so) but the couple from Private Lessons definitely had the same character names!

Putting aside comparisons now, the storytelling and characters in S2 are so much more interesting!

Ep1 starts with the mysterious fall from the roof [fake-out #1] and then the scene with Lee Hyeon and Min Wu [fake-out #2] in which they call Ma Ru and establish some of the friend group dynamics and then we get the hint that something else is going on with Lee Hyeon (Min Wu asks if he's given up on looking for someone); and then we get the moment that connects storyline 3 to storylines 1&2 between Kim An and Sung Min. So much tight storytelling in this first ep, I remember on first watch being surprised by how much attention this series was requiring considering s1! I scrolled the tag and saw most people found eps 1&2 confusing, and I can say I definitely found it much easier on rewatch and going in with different expectations.

Ep2 hints at the past we don't yet know between Ju Hyuk and Sung Min (only on rewatch did I realize Ju Hyuk asks Sung Min to eat with him like a normal person and the way he promised he would but Sung Min doesn't remember or realize what's happening, and turns him down kindly, which is why he resorts to being an ass.

Ep 3 we get the first hints Ma Ru knows something is up (being afraid to knock on MinWu's door), the first love & marriage assignments (observing your partner and writing them a letter of what you want to say to them) as well as the underwear gift from Ju Hyuk to Sung Min, and the note at Kim Ann's locker. This episode really starts to build on the theme of intimacy and what intimacy means, when is it appropriate, how do you establish it, and the conflict that arises when people are on different pages about your level of intimacy. Like most have noticed, this is where it really takes off and comes into its own as a good show.

The rest of the show really builds on and plays with these histories, intimacies, and conflicts. They have time to actually hurt one another (eg the slut shaming) and actually make up. Each one moves at a different pace. [Sidenote: have I said enough how happy I am that the older couple slept together before dating?! To be clear I am just as excited when an ace/demi/inexperienced character gets to be ace/demi/explore or come into their sexuality, but I only have so much patience for the blushing maiden trope in adult gay men who have clear sexual attraction and interest especially when they have previous experience, and anything outside of one-partner-in-their-entire-lives is still so rare in BL. And as an aside on this aside, I love how much Ju Hyuk's rizz works at first but then backfires on him later, forcing him to use actual communication after all!] Each couple has a reason for the hesitation or delay in becoming a couple (power dynamics and uncertainty about where you stand; friendship you don't want to lose; being burned before and feeling like you aren't allowed to have anything good in your life). Even more importantly, we get reasons for everything: why Min Wu is growing distant with Ma Ru; why Kim An is more terse and cautious with Lee Hyun; why Ju Hyuk is so weirdly rude to Sung Min. And, as I mentioned above, we actually get a motive for the villain of the story too, Kim An's childhood friend/brother/rejected love/stalker (whose name I keep forgetting even in rewatch lol sorry bro). He thought Kim An was only with him because he was desperate, and so when Kim An started making other connections, he thought he had to ruin Kim An's life. And he thought when he came back into Kim An's life, Kim An would still be desperate, and he'd be able to fit back in. He didn't understand that Kim An had still loved him even if he was no longer interested in a romantic or sexual relationship, and would have kept him in his life if he hadn't been betrayed; he didn't understand that Kim An would be able to rebuild his life without him; he didn't understand that Kim An would not forgive him even though he still cared about him. It really is tragic, and the tragedy is in a lot of ways understated.

Yes it was a bit messy with the three plots going on simultaneously but when binged, and definitely on rewatch, it was easier to follow and I enjoyed how the interaction between the characters moved each of the plots forward. I wonder how much the pacing bothered some viewers because it definitely is not paced like a usual kbl, but that's one of the things I liked about it lol and there were some parts that I enjoyed only on rewatch because I could focus on them.

All of this incoherence is to say: I really like the storytelling in S2 so much more than S1; I think it's one of the better sequel attempts I've seen, in that there are clear connections to the first season but everything is built on rather than recreated; and the stories were also just more interesting. Season 2 delivered on the premise of Season 1 without re-using the same structure, plot points, or story beats. Lots of tropes were repeated but they were always used in a new way and played out differently. The finale felt queer in a way I don't expect from Korean BL. We got some of the things I always say I want more of in any series: more time with folks as a couple working out their relationship post-get-together, clear communication, and queer community. Overall, this show affected me more than I expected. It wasn't perfect execution, but TL;DR, more of this please!

[siriannatan]

Just Go With Your Feelings 3/4

I really hate travelling. It nearly made me forget I had a whole fic done and waiting to be shared.

Scott sat silently chewing if he should tell fWhip everything. “Let's hear it,” he said, feeling like there was a rock in his stomach. Stupid Owen, always complicating his plans.

fWhip said nothing and just pressed play on his phone.

“...oh and Scott,” it was clearly not the whole thing. “I'm done being your puppet and babysitting you for your family. Yeah, I never liked you in the first place. I was your friend only because your family was cutting part of the debt off for getting info on you and…”

“That's enough,” Scott sighed and curled up.

“Nothing to say?” He could tell fWhip was glaring without looking at him.

“What is there to say? My family likes keeping an eye on me even after kicking me out. Is it so shocking?” Scott grimaced. He hated his family. “Owen's most likely dead. Probably had a gun to his head as he recorded this. And now,” he finally looked at fWhip even if he could tell there were tears in his eyes, “there's a big ass target on your back,” he poked at fWhip's chest. “And I can't tell you if it'll be gone if I go somewhere else. You're a good lawyer, my brother likes having good lawyers…”

Scott let it hang in the air. Tears slowly started to fall down. “Owen likely knew there would be nothing on my phone that could give him an alibi. And he probably killed the broker on my brother's orders. They knew Owen would be gone as soon as the debt was so the brokers were likely forbidden from messing with it. But this one got greedy…” Scott rambled, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

fWhip was still silently sitting there.

“I didn't jump under your car on purpose or anything. I had no clue Owen hired you,” he sighed, assuming fWhip would ask about that. But he remained silent. “I'll go and pack,” she whispered but as he was about to stand up fWhip stopped him. “What? Say something, fWhip,” Scott hugged, but was glad fWhip reacted in any way.

“What happens when you're alone? Will you get dragged home?” fWhip asked but didn't look up.

“Most likely, Mom's been pretty insistent on me coming back since Dad died,” Scott admitted bitterly. “And Xor would do anything she says.”

“You're staying then,” he declared, finally looking up. He looked pretty determined.

“Why? They're definitely coming after you if I stay. You want to be the mafia's lawyer that badly?”

“No. But I'd feel pretty shitty if you got dragged somewhere you don't want to go when I could do something about it,” fWhip shrugged.

“You're so righteous it's annoying,” Scott sighed, deflating into the couch. “Almost making me feel like you like me Mr definitely-not-gay,” he forced out a joke.

fWhip cringing at that had him calm down a bit. At least some things were normal. Even if still annoying. 

“Still not gay?” Scott decided to poke fWhip to make himself feel a bit better. “What if I'll take my shirt off? Will you still not be gay then?” Scott asked with a smirk.

“If you’re done then…”

“Then what? You'll tuck me into bed again?” Scott practically taunted. Why do fWhip's reactions only make him want to poke the lawyer more? “Did you kiss my forehead goodnight or were you too scared of your own feelings?”

Annoyingly fWhip just sat there as Scott poked and prodded for any reaction.

“I'm going to bed,” the lawyer announced and just left. Like a total jerk.

“Oi, I'm not done with you yet!” Scott protested.

“But I'm done with this conversation,” fWhip shrugged not stopping.

Scott seethed for a while before getting up. fWhip was bound to kick him out any day now anyway with his family getting involved. So he followed him to his bedroom and the ensuite bathroom.

“What are you doing?” fWhip asked, only sweatpants on.

“Boring. I thought you slept nude with how tightly you pack yourself in here,” Scott chuckled crowding fWhip against the counter. Mirror was nice, made it hard for fWhip to hide his cute reactions. “Come on fWhip, I'm the last person who's going to think any less of you if you're gay, just admit that you like this,” he mused, right against fWhip's ear. Pushing him as close to the lawyer as physically possible.

“Scott stop this…” fWhip huffed but his blush was damn obvious. “Scott…” his breath hitched as Scott wrapped one arm around his waist.

“Or what? You'll kick me out after insisting so strongly I stay?” Scott chuckled, just grazing a finger along the band of fWhip's pants.

He felt like he was about to get addicted. Nothing ever could compare to the feelings fWhip's blushing face conjures in him.

“That's… Sto… Scott…” fWhip huffed, and finally pushed back strong enough for Scott to fall back.

“Wow, so strong, what a brute,” Scott chuckled looking up at fWhip. Oh, his glares were pretty good too. Scott wanted fWhip to only ever look at him.

“Stop messing around Scott. I told you I'm not interested,” fWhip huffed, attempting to regain composure. How cute.

“Little fWhip thinks otherwise,” Scott chuckled, trying to get up but there was nothing for him to grab.

fWhip glared and mouthed something but never produced any sound. “Just go to your room and leave this topic alone,” he finally said, offering Scott both his arms.

So easy, Scott thought as he pulled fWhip down. He didn't really worry about his ankle but was still happy that fWhip didn't land on it. “But you're so cute when I mess with you,” he whispered with a grin. Their faces were so close. Just a little push forward and he could kiss fWhip. Would he bite if he did? “Don't you want to at least try it?” He asked leaning just slightly forwards. 

Their lips were practically touching. But fWhip wasn't pulling back. Just glaring at Scott. He held fWhip's gaze with his own flirting stare.

“You're the worst,” fWhip sighed sitting back. “I'll say it one last time. I'm not gay. I'm not into guys. I'm not interested in a relationship with you or at all. Not even trying it out as you put it,” he calmly said with a cold stare. “I'm letting you stay despite the danger, for selfish reasons so go to your room, or should I carry you like the brat you are?”

Scott shuddered. He definitely likes fWhip talking him down. “I don't know,” Scott shrugged pushing his crutch away. “What do you think?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows.

He expected to be gently picked up like a bride or a princess. But fWhip just tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And yes, fWhip was very nicely built under his suits. Six-pack and all. But it was still a lot for Scott. He could not hold back a moan.

He could swear he heard fWhip mutter, “whore”. And that was absolutely doing it for Scott. 

“You can't do that and then just tuck me in,” he protested once deposited in his bed. fWhip just wordlessly wrapped him tightly in the covers and left. “fWhip? fWhip! FWHIP!” Scott yelled but to no avail. “Did I push too hard?” He wondered with a sigh. “He could have at least given me a kiss goodnight.” 

He wanted fWhip to ruin him yesterday.

fWhip avoided his apartment for a few days. Staying in hotels and the office. But eventually, he had to come back.

Just for one night. He purposely came home late hoping Scott would be already asleep. But there was no Scott at home. Just a single light above the dining table and a phone and an envelope on it.

Scott's family was on the move. He barely approached the table when the phone rang. ‘Brother-in-law’ the caller ID said. Scott's brother, fWhip guessed and picked up.

“Hello dear brother-in-law,” he was instantly greeted with a cold voice. “Don't worry, my brother is perfectly fine, currently having dinner with our loving mother,_ the voice assured.

“How can I trust you?” fWhip asked, glancing about for an ambush or anything really.

“Turn on the speaker and open the envelope,” the voice said, clearly amused.

fWhip did. Inside were photos of every time Scott pushed him or against him. And of the night fWhip carried Scott to bed. If anyone saw this without any context…

“If you want Scott to be able to leave home and these to stay between us, you'll go to the location I'll send in a text, alone, so we can discuss our future as family okay?” The caller said and cut the call immediately.

fWhip took a deep breath in as he stared at the photos and the phone that quickly lit up with an incoming text message. An address for an old abandoned school. And a specific classroom.

With a grimace, fWhip grabbed the phone and his keys and went there.

[holly-natnicole]

Rokku fighting Naruto then Sasuke right before the Chūnin Exams begin and Team Kakashi Trio (a.k.a. Neo-Sannin Trio, but they're not at that level yet) meeting Maito Gai (Part 1)

[Image Description: a Japanese comicbook page in digital form. It's from 'Naruto' (1999).

The first panel shows the heads of Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, and Uzumaki Naruto. Sasuke says via a speech bubble "You want to fight me... here and now?" whilst Sakura is saying: "But that's..."

The second panel shows Rī Rokku's head & hand as he looks down at someone off-panel while holding onto a railing or a balcony with his hand and saying: "Yes!"

The third panel from above shows Rokku in mid-air due to somersaulting off the balcony or whatever he had been standing on before. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura are looking up at him.

The fourth panel shows Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto from behind as they stand somewhat near a long set of stairs.

On the left of the third panel and the fourth panel, a squatting Rokku is over both instead of being inside a comicbook panel. He's scowling and had just landed onto the wooden floor of the spacious room.]

Rokku: "My name is Rock Lee."

(Side Note: That's his American English translation name. His original name is 李 六九 in Kanji & リー ロック which in Romaji are Rī Rokku.)

Rokku: "Among sticklers, etiquette requires one to introduce oneself before asking for the name of another ...Uchiha Sasuke."

Sasuke: ")Huh... So you knew who I was all along."

Rokku: *takes some type of martial arts stance* "I'm calling you out! I want to test the effectiveness of my techniques against the last surviving member of your legendary clan. Besides..."

Sasuke: "So you're challenging me, even knowing my lineage? In other words, you're a fool. So, dog-brow... Do you really want to learn what it means to be an Uchiha?"

Rokku: "Absolutely!!" I can hardly wait I'm going toe-to-toe with the cream of the rookie crop, first time out! Now you'll get the proof you require, Master Gai!

Naruto: "Hold it!!"

(Side Note: Sasuke, it's rude to nickname someone based on their appearance when you haven't been given permission to do so.)

Naruto: "Let me handle dog-brow. He'll be toast. Just give me five minutes."

Rokku: "I have no interest in fighting you. Only Uchiha."

Naruto: *dashes towards the older, a few inches taller ninja* "Story of my freakin' life!! 'Sasuke, this!' and 'Sasuke, that!' 'til I could just puke!"

(Side Note: Naruto, I hope you learn humility someday. No-one owes you their attention and there's nothing gross 'bout other ninja wanting to challenge Sasuke instead of you. Also, you shouldn't be using the rude nickname for a random stranger. Honestly, I hope you 2 kids learn manners some day...)

Rokku: *is in a fighting stance and has an intense facial expression*

Rokku: *suddenly kicks with 1 leg before Naruto's fist can reach the 13- or 14-year-old*

Naruto: *barely sees the kick coming and tries to dodge it, but isn't fast enough; it connects with his stomach*

Rokku: *looks down at Naruto who has 1 hand on the floor*

Rokku: *spins fast a full 360 degrees before Naruto's foot can kick the older shinobi's head*

Rokku: *left foot connects with Naruto's back* "Gale Force Technique!!"

Naruto: "AUGH!!"

Rokku: *spins fast another full 360 degrees, sending Naruto tumbling along the floor with loud thumps*

Rokku: *stands up straight* "Mark my words... None of you will beat me."

Sasuke: *frowns*

Sakura worriedly: "He's pretty tough after all. Amazing!"

[insertsickusername13]

Promises Made on October 30th

title is the concept and summary bc i thought of the title before the concept of the fic. whoops.

warnings: implied abuse, alcohol is referenced and consumed but not in like a bad way (most of the time), no smut but there's one scene where they kiss and i describe it in a gross way for some reason and sex is talked about once or twice

word count: 3.6k

 Jake spent most nights alone. He had friends, sure, and plans most evenings. Dates with girls, parties to attend, and though he’d like to spend the rest of his life swimming in a fuzzy unconsciousness where he was only just aware of his existence, half passed out on someone else’s couch, dawn always sunk her rosy fingers into the horizon and one hostess or another was forced to give Jake a pitying look as they showed him to the door.

 My parents will be home soon, some would say, and Jake would leave with a bitter laugh. If he was lucky, he’d get to stay and help clean up. On the best days, he could sometimes sneak in a quick fuck with whatever girl was still around. 

 Most nights, though, he left before anyone had the chance to kick him out. He spent hours sitting on the floor of his living room, staring at the front door and waiting for them to come home. If he pretended hard enough, the pictures on the walls weren’t the most terrifying thing he had ever faced. Photographs from family weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and award ceremonies all taunted him. His parents’ faces stared at him, scrutinizing every move as he trembled, cried, and broke down. Every sob echoed back like a bullet ricocheted off metal. He was sitting expressionless in the middle of a war zone watching soldiers (read: dreams) and civilians (read: his future) bleed out and die on the floor around him. 

 Despite holding onto the childish hope that things would get better, that the future held something more than loneliness for Jake Dillinger, there was still the undeniable truth that it wouldn’t. Jake was doomed. Life wasn’t going to be anything special for him—he was going to suffer and he was going to have to get used to it young. He hated his parents, himself, his girlfriend, his life, and his house. He wasn’t going to kill himself, he wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t going to wake up every morning and fight to be okay. He was resigned to his sadness.

 Until Rich Goranski knocked on his door at 10 pm on September 17th and showed Jake that silence wasn’t the only thing that could exist in his house. 

 He didn’t wait for an invitation inside. The second Jake had opened the door, Rich pushed past him and into the kitchen. He wasn’t quite fast enough for Jake to miss the bruises on his cheekbones or the way he favored his right leg over his left. Jake cataloged the injuries and promised himself he’d ask about them later. 

 “The hell are you doing here?” Jake called after him, his tone tipping over the border between annoyed and concerned.

 Rich shrugged and settled on the kitchen counter. He seemed to only be slightly aware of Jake’s presence, more focused on the empty floor in front of him. His eyes were glassy in a way that suggested he’d already been crying and was done with it. Jake studied him, searching for his next move in Rich’s body language. If Rich looked like he was going to cry again, Jake could probably swoop in for a hug without being called gay. If he didn’t, Jake would probably offer a drink. Or a movie?

 “Stop looking at me like that,” Rich snapped. He was looking up at Jake, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed together, almost like he was challenging him. Jake flinched back, unsure of what he’d done to deserve such treatment. 

 “Like what?”

 “Like I’m a fucking math problem or some shit. I’m not. Just fucking talk to me.”

 Jake considered him. Though it was invisible to Rich, Jake could still see bullets and spears flying through the air as people screamed out war cries and fought with everything in them for land or oil or their families. Metaphorical war didn’t end just because a friend had shown up. Jake was always surrounded by imagined violence; always on the verge of fleeing. 

 “I don’t know what you want from me,” Jake answered. His voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of a bomb going off in the distance.

 Rich forced out a bitter laugh and hid his face behind his hands. 

 “God, fuck, me either. I don’t know why I’m here. Just fucking distract me. Do whatever the hell you want.”

 Jake found his parents’ record player in the living room and hit play. It was the only thing he could think to do—why, he wasn’t sure. But Rich had said anything, so Jake did anything. Some song by The Police (god, the irony) drifted through the room, a byproduct of his parents’ last anniversary together in the house. Jake had long since stopped caring—it didn’t even hurt to know they’d danced in this room, laughed in this room, raised him in this room. 

 He turned back to Rich and was met with a small, borderline amused, “What the hell, Jake?”

 “You said I could do whatever I wanted.”

 “This is what you want?”

 “I dunno.”

 Rich laughed as he hopped off the counter. The sound was so pure Jake watched the blood-soaked carpets go from crimson to pink as the rain washed away the worst of it. A white flag waved in the distance. Rich swayed to the music mindlessly, still favoring his right leg. 

 “Dancing?” Jake asked, the single word enough to get across his message. Rich nodded as he took Jake’s hand in his own and pulled him in close. 

 “Why not? We’ve got nothing better to do.”

 So Jake learned about music and dancing and how small Rich could feel when Jake had his hands on his hips, fingers digging into his skin just to convince himself Rich was real instead of some fantasy made up as a coping mechanism for his parents’ leering memory. Silence wasn’t the worst thing to exist. Jake knew how to make it go away.

 Still, that did nothing to dispel the obvious and ever-painful emptiness. Jake could play record after record as loud as he wanted until he had every song memorized and could sing it from any room in the house, but it was still empty.

He stumbled into the kitchen, drunk and disoriented, his feet dragging across the tile floor. Each step was like wading through the ocean, sea monsters grabbing at his ankles and trying to drag him under. He gripped counters and walls to keep himself afloat just long enough for Rich to knock on his door and saunter in, his presence a song in and of itself. 

 Jake followed his every movement with every sense: his ears, listening to the sound of Rich’s footsteps. Taste: kissing the corner of Rich’s mouth—never his lips, Jake wasn’t gay, but close enough that he could convince himself there was something like love brewing between them. Touch: holding onto Rich’s hand, his clothes, his hair, latching onto the warmth of him to convince himself the air conditioner wasn’t too cold or the empty spaces too vacant. 

 Sight: looking at Rich and only Rich. If he only looked at his hazel eyes and dyed-red hair and, on the days when Jake was weak and scared, his lips, then the shadows in the corners of the room lightened into something manageable and the photos on the walls that functioned as the closest thing Jake had to family faded into… well, photos. Just photos. 

 Rich helped, but he wasn’t enough to make the emptiness go away until October 15th.

 He showed up in the same way he had before. Glassy-eyed, hurt, and willing to do whatever Jake wanted to make everything slightly okay for a little while. 

 Tonight, Jake chose balloons. 

 “You can’t be serious,” Rich groaned. He was on Jake’s couch, a glass of white wine in hand. Something imported from Italy, or maybe France? All Jake knew was that it cost four hundred dollars.

 Jake shrugged. “Isn’t Brooke’s birthday coming up? It could be for her party.”

 “This is literally just a fucked up coping mechanism, don’t pretend it’s anything else.”

 Jake sighed disappointedly and leaned back against the couch. He was on the floor in front of it, a pack of two hundred balloons in his hand. They were all different colors—some neon, some pastel, some black, and others white. He’d bought them on a whim at a Walgreens for twenty bucks with no particular plan. Faced with his barren living room, the only signs of human existence the expensive vases on the end tables and the overstuffed throw pillows, he’d decided he’d blow them up and throw them around just to add a splash of color. 

 Jake looked up at Rich. He was half asleep but tense, his face scrunched up and hands clenched. It’d been bad this time around. It hadn’t just been Rich’s existence that pissed his dad off—he’d done something. Probably something minuscule, like broken a glass or clogged the toilet, but it was enough that what was usually a couple of light bruises and a limp had turned to black and blue blemishes over his right eye and up his chest. His lip was busted and every breath seemed labored and painful. Jake, unsure of what else to do, ran his thumb over Rich’s pulse and whispered, “Please?”

 Rich opened one eye to look down at Jake. Amongst the annoyance and pain, Jake saw a flash of pity. Rich shifted uncomfortably. 

 “Fine, but I have at least two broken ribs so you’re going to have to accept the fact I’m only blowing up one or two of these.”

 “Of course,” Jake rushed out, his hands already fumbling with the packaging of the balloons. “I wouldn’t—if it hurts, you don’t have to. Obviously. Just—”

 Rich thoughtlessly threaded his fingers through Jake’s hair. Jake’s voice gave out. 

 “I don’t understand you,” Rich whispered, not even bothering to look at Jake. “You’re confident all day, and then the second it gets dark you freak out. I’m the same person I am all the time. I know you don’t want to hurt me. Calm down.”

 It was, of course, a trend Jake had noticed as well. At school, he could control his tone and inflections to the point he sometimes wondered if he was accidentally manipulating the people around him into loving him. Then at night, when his defenses were already broken down by hours of facing the empty, stormy seas that were his house, he could barely find it in himself to get out a sentence without stuttering. 

 He blamed it on the one lie Rich had told in his claim: that he was the same person. He wasn’t. There was something different about nighttime Rich that had Jake’s face feeling too hot and the silence turning into the sound of his heart beating circles in his chest. 

 “Sorry,” Jake replied softly, “I dunno why it happens. You make me nervous.”

 Rich raised an eyebrow. Jake shoved a purple balloon in his face and hoped that would be enough for the topic to be dropped. It was still too sensitive, still too in the early stages of development, for Jake to be prepared enough to vocalize the worst of it. Someday, maybe. Probably. Once he didn’t have Christine to distract him or Jeremy’s constant insults to scare him into suppressing every urge that didn’t perfectly line up with the picture everyone else had of him in their minds. 

 Rich took the balloon and started to blow it up. For Jake, the process was effortless. Rich struggled through it tediously, taking small breaths and wincing after almost every one. Jake hated to say that he’d originally interpreted Rich’s complaints as a joke, but his worry hadn’t really spiked until Rich choked out an awkward, muffled cough and pained groan. 

 “Do you need—”

 “No,” Rich breathed, “No, I’m fine. Shut up, Jake.”

 Jake turned back to his neon green balloon without a word. He’d blown up almost twenty by now, enough to coat half the living room in a thin layer of color. He thoughtlessly kicked one with his foot and smiled as he watched it hit a picture of his mother and uselessly bounce off. Smiling, he kicked another one. It hit a picture of himself as a child. 

 He turned to Rich to tell him—about what, he wasn’t sure. Kicking balloons? Hitting pictures of himself and his family? His coping mechanisms were getting more fucked up by the second—and was almost immediately paralyzed by… fuck, by Rich. Just Rich. 

 He was sitting crisscross on the couch, a balloon in his lap. He’d spent the last four and a half minutes blowing it up to just a little bigger than Jake’s head. It was still smaller than it was supposed to be but Jake wasn’t going to complain. It was physically impossible when he could barely get enough oxygen in his lungs to speak. It wasn’t that there was a crushing panic on his chest stopping him from breathing, it was something much brighter. There were so many butterflies in his stomach they were flying into his chest and choking off every inhale. 

 Rich’s lips were wet. That was really what doomed Jake. He’d previously been unaware that every time Rich removed the balloon from his mouth he felt the need to lick his lips, but now that Rich was focused purely on tying the balloon off and was giving Jake ample time to stare, Jake was forced to acknowledge the way his vision tunneled at the sight. The way his whole body seemed to go warm. 

 Jake turned fully to face Rich, the balloon in his hand completely abandoned in lieu of watching Rich stick his tongue out in frustration as he struggled to keep the balloon inflated while tying the knot. When he finally succeeded, he burst into a smile louder than any record Jake had played over the past month.

 Rich looked up, eyes bright, and faltered when he found Jake already staring at him. He cleared his throat as his face flushed red. 

 “Uh, hi,” he squeaked out. Jake wanted to scream. This was one of the differences that left him speechless. Daytime Rich would smirk and call him gay. This Rich just looked flustered. 

 “Hi,” Jake whispered back. 

 “Whatcha doin’?”

 Jake considered his response carefully. One song or another was playing softly in the background, the balloons were filling up the emptiness. Everything was kind of okay. Jake had nothing left to cope with. He just… 

 “I really want to kiss you right now,” he answered. Rich froze. 

 “What?”

 Jake got up just enough so he was kneeling, purple and green and red balloons gathered around his knees and feet and the coffee table his back was pressed up against. He leaned up so he was close enough to run his pointer finger down Rich’s jawline and nudge his nose against Rich’s.

 “You heard me. You can tell me to stop.”

 Rich remained silent. Jake thought he felt ocean waters rising around his waist, drowning his balloons and pictures in stormy salt water. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Rich like his life depended on it, because it did, and felt his heart start beating again for the first time in months when Rich kissed him back just as desperate and soft and messily. 

 Hands tangled in Rich’s hair, mouth open and his tongue practically shoved in Rich’s mouth, licking at teeth like they were nectar or ambrosia, he scrambled onto the couch, limbs slow and unsteady as he climbed over Rich and forced him back against the couch. He tried to get himself closer to his paradise, his respite, his island in the middle of the ocean, but all he got was a wretched screeching sound and the feeling of air-filled plastic against his chest. 

 He pulled away just enough for Rich to let out a small whine as they lost contact with each other.

 “Rich.”

 “Yeah?” Rich asked breathlessly, already trying to lean up and kiss him again. 

 “Get rid of the fucking balloon.”

 Rich’s eyes widened, almost comically so. Jake wanted to cry at the way that sent his heart into overdrive.

 “Yeah, yeah, right, hold on—”

 He threw it across the room. Jake found the balloons kind of useless now. He was so filled with giddiness and hope that he couldn’t even comprehend how anything could ever be empty. 

 Until October 30th. 

 Rich didn’t need to knock on Jake’s door or let himself in. Jake was at Rich’s house, banging on the door repeatedly, each knock echoing and panicked. He didn’t stop until Rich swung the door open, rumpled and half asleep. 

 “What the fuck?” 

 “I need to talk to you.”

 Rich glanced back inside—presumably at his dad—before nodding. 

 “Yeah, okay, lemme get changed and put on my shoes, then we can go.”

 Jake nodded rapidly. His mind was racing beyond what he could understand, landing on panicked responses before he even knew what had triggered his fight or flight. He didn’t stop moving even as Rich disappeared back into his house. His foot tapped against the concrete. His fingers picked at his nails and the fabric of his shirt and his hair. Curses ran through his mind like a broken record, repeated until the sound was imprinted on Jake’s brain. 

 Rich appeared and suddenly everything in Jake’s mind went silent. 

 “So… are we doing this here or…?”

 “My house. Not uh—” Jake glanced back behind Rich. Not near your father was the implied statement. Rich sagged with relief.

 “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

 Jake could feel Rich’s concern in his gaze. He was watching Jake’s every move as if preparing for something, like Jake was going to swerve the car off the road and into a ditch or shoot himself. It made Jake want to laugh. Or scream. Or cry. He was going to die. 

 He didn’t even make it back to his own house. It was only a six-minute drive and he only made it four minutes in before he pulled over on the side of the road and stormed out of the car, his whole body trembling. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed an escape from the cramped driver’s seat of his car. He needed the autumn air to stop him from overheating and the wide expanse of stars to talk him down from an anxiety attack. 

 Rich fumbled after him, too confused to be panicked and too disoriented to be calm. 

 “What the hell?! Slow down—”

 Jake halted and spun on his heel, eyes wide. They were by a pond with benches and a dock and a parking lot only twenty feet away. There were grills along the beach and a football in the grass. Jake almost screamed. Every sign of humanity felt like too much. If he was going to do this, he needed it to be in the middle of the desert or the empty expanse of space with no one but Rich around to hear his confession.

 No. Fuck it. He needed to do this now. 

 “I’m gay.”

 Rich seized up. He was only a foot away from Jake, close enough so when he finally regained control of his muscles, he was able to reach out and take Jake’s hands. 

 “Really?” he whispered, looking up at Jake with eyes that literally shone like gold or diamonds. Jake wanted to drown in it.

 He swallowed his shame, not caring that it burned at his throat, and said, “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. Not all the way. I like girls. But I like kissing you and I like boys and I… I just like you. All of you. All the way. I like you. I’m really sorry.”

 Rich broke out into a grin. 

 “Yeah?” he asked just for confirmation. Jake nodded again. 

 Rich jumped up into Jake’s arms, fully committed to getting as physically close as he could. He wrapped his legs around Jake’s waist and his arms around his neck and fingers in his hair and kissed him hard on the lips. Jake felt like he was at home for the first time in years.

 “Me too,” Rich said between kisses, “Me too. So much. So fucking much.”

 Jake smiled into every kiss, so ecstatic he could barely keep himself standing. He fell back into the grass whispering, “Run away with me. Forever. It’s terrible here. It’s so terrible.”

 Rich nodded in agreement and pressed a gentle kiss on Jake’s neck. 

 “They hate us and we’re gonna find someplace better. I have enough money. Just run away with me, please. We can go anywhere you want.”

 “Anywhere?” Rich asked. He sounded pained, like the word burned as it came out. Jake nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. 

 “Anywhere. Just promise me you won’t leave.”

 Rich smiled and kissed him again. 

 “I promise,” he murmured, “I promise you’re beautiful, I promise I’ll run away with you, I promise I won’t leave, I—”

 He paused. Dread burrowed itself like a bullet in Jake’s chest. He searched Rich’s expression for answers before Rich had the chance to start speaking again. 

 “Not… not tonight, though, okay? There’s something I gotta do first.”

 “Is it—?”

 “Don’t worry about it, Jake. It’s nothing. How about Sunday? Give me tomorrow to take care of things, then we’re gone.”

 November first. The day after tomorrow. 

 Jake could handle it. He’d host his Halloween party, break up with Christine, and tie up any loose ends he had left. He’d be gone before he ever had to clean up the hell of a mess his friends were sure to leave behind in his parents' house.

 “Promise?” he whispered.

 Rich nodded. 

 “Promise. I just need tomorrow.”