#blurred talks dee

[blurred-pride]

requests will be answered but it may take a while. I'm not used to fronting for more than a few days, some stuff has happened, and I'm not in a great place mentally, so I'm unable to prioritize things other than my well-being at the moment. I am safe, and I have seen the requests, and I will get to them as I am able. /info /gen

-dee (they/them)

[piovascosimo]

i'm very much not against damon doing music that isn't blur , clearly the amount of music pouring out of him needs other vessels, and it is a lot of fun to see the shapes they can take, but i am a huge fan of his voice, and i miss his singing a lot in gorillaz, his way of being melancholic but still hopeful, there is a beautiful quality to that, that is so hard to get but that he always hits so perfectly. which is maybe why the only gorillaz song i've actually liked in a while is one where he is singing, a shame that it is accompanied by the always hideous art of jamie h. when we will be free of this?

[thepastdied]

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Not my gif

TW: panic attack.

eddie munson × reader fluff

warning: cuteness

Eddie cheers you up after a panic attack.

Yes, I know Hellfire isn't in the auditorium. Shhh.

Your breathing got faster as you slid your body down the cement wall of the auditorium, throat tightening and your insides twisting around painfully.

Your teacher had called you out in front of the entire class an hour ago, and you'd been holding in your nerves since then. It was agonizing.

Your palms were sweating, face hot, head fuzzy, and you were overwhelmed with nausea.

You huffed out a sob, your shaky hand covering your mouth as you muffled your cries.

You hated yourself for being so sensitive. But waking up and coming to this hell hole was such a chore. Every. Day. You felt like you wanted to throw up every morning, your stomach turning from the moment your eyes snapped open to the loud ringing of your alarm clock. Even worse when you would smell the fresh breakfast your mom made before you slipped out the front door.

Getting to school was one of the hardest parts of your day. The short drive gave you little to no time to prepare yourself for the crowd of students flocking into the school and through the hallways.

The moment you got to class, it was like a sigh of relief. You'd talk with a couple of classmates, and that was all. You didn't feel as anxious anymore and actually felt safe to be sitting down in a room with familiar faces rather than pushing through a crowd.

But here you were, a pathetic mess on the floor of the auditorium. All because a teacher snapped at you for laughing at one of Eddie's jokes.

"What's the stinkiest planet?" Eddie turned around and leaned over your desk, his eyebrows raising in anticipation, eyes sparkling as his full lips pulled into a smirk.

You cringed at him, shaking your head.

"Poopiter." He leaned back and laughed at his own joke. You following suit and got your own ass handed to you for it.

You felt stupid, but it was so embarrassing. More so because it was in front of Eddie, who you were totally crushing on. He was always so sweet to you. The entire class looked at you, scowling and rolling their eyes. You don't know how you'd be able to set foot in that classroom again. You have never gotten yelled at by a teacher.

Your vision blurred as tears poured down your face, ears hot and ringing, body shivering. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you hyperventilated. It hurt.

Your nimble fingers picked at the frayed thread of your ripped jeans, tears rolling down the bridge of your nose and landing on your thigh as your head bowed down. Your lips quivered before you sobbed again, your hands covering your red face as your throat gurgled from the saliva building in your mouth.

Your head snapped up, the hard push on the auditorium door handle echoing loudly throughout the room.

"Doopy doo dee daaaa.." Eddie quickly passed you as he galloped down the long slope walkway toward the stage. His torn backpack hung loosly on one shoulder and flopped roughly against his back.

You shrunk into yourself, your whole body going hot in embarrassment as you quickly wiped the tears from your face and covered your eyes with your still shaky hands, the knot in your throat growing bigger. You swallowed and took the deepest breath you could before slowly letting it out. And then again. And again.

A sudden smack made you perk your head up, the back of your hand wiping under your nose.

"Shit.." Eddie abruptly stopped and turned around to pick up the pencil case that fell out of his backpack. "Need a new backpack."

You involuntarily sniffled, your eyes going wide as his head shot up in your direction.

"Hey!" He grinned, eyes cheerful as he reached one arm up high and waved his arm as if he were flagging down a ship.

You meekly raised your hand, still paralyzed from your panic attack.

He stared at you for a moment, hand frozen in mid-air before he let it fall to his side, tilting his head quizzically.

"Hey, you okay?" He called across the room.

Your stomach twisted again and your eyes started to burn again. I hate when people ask if you're okay when you are NOT okay.

You chomped down on your lip as it began to quiver, a single tear escaping down your cheek.

"No no no no, don't.. shit shit why did I ask that.. uh-" Eddie cursed as he spun in a circle, frantically looking around and panicking.

He held his breath for a moment as he paused, standing still before shrugging his backpack off his shoulder and letting it fall to the floor.

Eddie slowly walked back up the aisle, hands clasped behind him as he leaned forward to get a better look at you- like he was observing a scared cat.

He stood upright as he saw what a mess you were. Your hair stuck to your wet, red, and puffy face, your sad eyes meeting his soft brown ones.

His ringed hand came up to scratch at his chin, his lips sticking at as he looked around awkwardly. You put your head back down to rest on your knees that you'd been hugging and sniffled again as a tear fell onto your sleeve.

He carefully walked in front of you, his dirty white reeboks almost touching your just as dirty converse. You opened your eyes when you heard him groan as he sat down in front of you, his back leaning against one of the many chairs that covered the room.

Your eyes stayed on his sneakers. You wanted to speak, but you couldn't. The only sounds coming out were sniffles.

Eddie skidded his foot forward, the top of his shoe knocking on the side of yours. You didn't move.

He did it again, but with his other foot. And then started to tap them back and forth to whatever song he was playing in his head.

You momentarily furrowed your eyebrows as you watched his feet and shifted your focus to his arms when he started to fiddle with an imaginary guitar.

You wiped your cheek on your shoulder and huffed out a laugh as he began to rock his head back and forth, eyes closed.

"Wish you could hear this. I'm totally shredding it." He peeked one eye open as he began to hum.

You covered your mouth to cover your giggle, his movements pausing at your reaction and feet remaining on either side of your own.

"Maybe someday?" He placed his hands on the floor and leaned forward in question.

You licked your tear stained lips and used the sleeve of your sweater to wipe both of your eyes, your tears finally stopping.

"At the Hideout?" You croaked, cringing at how hoarse your voice was.

He smiled at you, his eyes big and the corners of his mouth turning downwards in the way that they do.

"Every Tuesday, hun." He winked at you, eyes dazzling.

Your breath caught in your throat and you broke eye contact. Eddie internally panicked for a second until you looked back up and nodded with a weak smile.

His eyes left yours and danced across your face until they trailed down to your hair. He reached forward and ran his fingers along the small braid you had behind your ear.

"Cool." He muttered. "Wanna do mine?" He quirked one eyebrow and grinned as he grabbed a lock of his curls and wiggled it back and forth.

Your throat went dry as you wordlessly nodded.

Fuck.

Eddie excitedly did a little dance and slid his body so your thighs were touching. He held his arm out toward you, a black hair tie snug on his wrist.

Your fingers brushed his skin as you pulled it over his hand and placed it on your lap.

His fingers nervously drummed against his thighs as you raked your hand through his hair, which was surprisingly not as knotted as you thought.

Keyword, as. It was still pretty knotted.

The back of your hand brushed his neck as you began to separate three sections of his hair behind his ear, the same area where yours was. He shivered before coughing and sitting up straighter.

He hummed a bit, and soon his head started to lightly bob back and forth as he did before.

"Eddie! You made me mess up." You pouted as his soft curls slipped from your fingers and the braid quickly unraveled.

He laughed, shoulders shaking as he held his hands up and apologized.

You scoffed and shook your head before starting over again, still struggling to keep a grip on his impossibly soft hair.

"Can you talk to me about it?" He whispered after a long moment of silence.

You paused just for a second. You didn't feel that anxiety creep back up, but you didn't want to cry again.

"Want you to tell me what's wrong, sweetheart."

You sighed. So you told him why you were upset.

"Jesus.. I totally forgot about that." He looked down at the floor in deep thought before placing his hand on your ankle.

"You know that the whole class probably forgot, too. Ya know? Tomorrow it will be just like any other day. Mrs. O'Donnell won't even remember either, probably. She yells at me all the time. Would probably confuse that whole situation with me, honestly." His big stupidly pretty eyes bored into yours, sincerity written all over his face.

"If she ever brings it up - which she won't by the way, I'll tell her that it was me. She won't think twice about it." He shrugged.

You released his hair and put your hands on your lap, wringing your fingers together before you began to pick at your nails. You felt that sting in your eyes again, but you held it this time. You were still embarrassed because it was in front of him. His eyes flicked down before he pursed his lips and shook his head, bangs swiping his forehand.

"Don't do that.." He muttered as he moved his hand from your ankle to your wrist, thumb rubbing circles into the soft skin there.

He trailed his index finger up your palm slowly, way too slowly, before intertwining his fingers with yours. A small blush creeped across his cheeks when your fingers tightened around his.

"For the record," He paused for a moment when your eyes met his through your eyelashes. He bit onto his top lip, bottom lip sticking out as he bashfully placed his face against his shoulder to itch his jaw. "You're still pretty even when you cry."

"Oh my god.." You laughed as you covered your face when the hand he wasn't holding.

His timid smile quickly disappeared into a dopey grin.

"I got another joke, sweetheart." He pulled your hand onto his lap as he sat up straighter and shook the stray curls from his face.

You nodded for him to continue, your hand now covering your mouth as you chewed your lip shyly.

"Do you want to hear a joke about pizza?" His face went serious.

You both were quiet for a few heartbeats before a laugh bubbled in his throat. He strained his mouth, jaw tensing as he tried to conceal his laugh.

"What is it?" You smiled as you nudged him with your shoe.

"Never mind, it's too cheesy." He burst out laughing, letting all the laughter he held for the last minute into the auditorium as he threw his head back.

It was the stupidest joke, and that's why you laughed, your hand shoving his shoulder as he hunched forward and knocked into you.

"That is so stupid." You sputtered, mainly giggling at his overreaction.

He nodded his head, wiping a non existent tear dramatically from under his eye.

"Wheeeew. That was a knee slapper." He chuckled again, shaking his head at the absurdity.

His stray laughs came to a steady stop as he looked at your hand still clasped around his, your thumb playing with one of his rings.

"Seeing how you like my jokes, I was thinking.. maybe we could uh-.. I mean, if you are on the same page as me- like we could -" He stumbled with his words before the door swung open and a group of boys and one girl slid into the room.

The both of you scrambled away from eachother before they could see the close proximity you'd been in.

Eddie clumsily made his way to his feet as you did and rubbed his sweaty hands on the rough denim covering his thighs.

"Go out with me. Pizza. Tonight." Eddie blurted out, his voice cracking.

You blinked a few times and shifted on your feet.

"U-uh.. yeah, sure!" You mentally slapped yourself.

He slowly nodded and jumped on the balls of his feet as his eyes flicked between you and the boys that made their way to the stage.

He stepped forward, his hands frantically moving around in his pockets before he pulled out a piece of candy. He wrinkled his nose at the flavor before placing it in your hand and closing your fingers tightly around it.

"So you don't forget. You'll see it and be like 'Oh! Eddie! Sweet, sweet Eddie!' and then you'll remember our date. Tonight." He placed one hand on the wall and coolly leaned against it. "You got a number, sweets?"

You sheepishly nodded before pulling a pen out of your jacket pocket, rolling his sleeve up to write your phone number across his wrist.

His wild curls covered his eyes, but you can see his shit eating grin as he, what you assumed, watched as you wrote on his skin.

You clicked the pen closed before he quickly grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, placing a good smacker on the back of your hand.

You giggled as he stepped away from you, still holding your hand as your arms stretched out.

"See you later, darlin'." He winked at you as he made a clicking sound with his mouth before he trotted back down the aisle toward his friends, swooping his backpack up in the process.

You sighed dreamily as you watched him climb the stairs and flop down on the chair that looked like a throne.

Fuck, you were lucky.

[covetyou]

any other week

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Teen (18+ only blog!) warnings: sickfic. no smut or nudity (shocking, I know). sickness (no vomitting) and associated gross feelings and metaphors. fluff. word count: 2.3k summary: You're sick. That much is obvious. Even if the fact is you can't be sick. Not now. Not this week. Not when the only one around to look after you is the very person who pays you to look after him - Mr. Dieter Bravo.

A/N: if you hadn't heard, I have (had? I still feel shit but I'm technically negative and going to see Taylor Swift tomorrow, wish me luck lol) covid, and it's kicked my ass, so I wrote the least appropriate man in the universe looking after someone. enjoy 💛

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"D-!"

You barely get out the first syllable of his name before you're hacking a cough, pressing your palms to your knees as you splutter, bent over in a silent prayer to whatever virus has your esophagus in a chokehold, willing it to please let go.

It's feeling benevolent today, you think, when the clenching grip around your throat gives way a moment later, letting you take in a few blissfully sharp, painful gasps of air again.

Not that the cough has really stopped. That's been a niggling tickle for days now, growing and growing into something bigger as your body has gradually lost the fight with whatever asshole thing has set up shop inside your sinuses. Still, it's eased off enough now for you to raise yourself on wobbly legs, chest heaving and your head too fuzzy to really take in the foyer of Dieter's home, or the man himself as he tentatively creeps down the stairs.

It was going to be a bitch of a week. The last week before Dieter head's off to shoot always was. Full of last minute meetings and prep, and Dieter being all too much of an asshole for you to want to deal with, and you being entirely too much of a cunt to him in return. The last thing you needed was to be sick.

Whatever plague had befallen you didn't seem to give a shit you were assistant to the Dieter Bravo, or that sorry, we're busy this week, can I pencil you in for September? You'd just have to deal, and suck it up, and hope to the end of the earth that you could stay far enough away from Dieter than you didn't get him sick too.

"You look like shit."

You almost jump out of your skin, a muffled voice echoing down at you from the top of the stairs as your eyes strain to focus and find the source of the voice. It sure sounds like Dieter, but you can't tell if it's the cotton wool stuffed inside your own head, or some weird voice he's putting on in preparation for his next role that's making him sound entirely off.

He's there, you're sure of it, your heart pounding in your chest as you wheeze and stare up at a Dieter shaped blur you're certain is wearing a balklava.

You cough again before you speak, your voice a weak rasp of what it usually is, razor blades slicing up your throat as you force the words out.

"Dee? I've got your mail, and those clothes from the designer, and -"

He's coming closer, taking the steps slowly, coming in to focus then wobbling back out of it as you blink rapidly at him and heave in another pained breath.

"You're sick."

Usually you'd argue with him. You take just about any opportunity to talk back to him, just like he does with you. It's how you work so well together. Even now, your head is indignantly saying no. You are not sick. You are perfectly fine and if he could just get off your ass, that'd be wonderful.

But, you are sick. That much is obvious. Even if the fact was, you couldn't be sick. Not now. Not this week.

"- your laundry -"

"You're sick."

Any argument is lost in your throat as another cough drags itself out of you, kicking and screaming, forcing you to hinge over again just to stop the force of it all from knocking you flat on your ass. Dieter is retreating up the stairs a little as you watch stars dance across your eyes with each forceful hack of air from your lungs, and even through the pain and lack of oxygen you can sense he feels uneasy about this, about you, and for the first time you think you may have made a mistake.

You shouldn't have come here.

You should have called, or sent a text, and worked from home where you could stay in bed, keeping your germs to yourself and away from him.

When your cough finally eases off again, your head pounding now and your throat burning more than it has in days, you lift yourself up, and admit defeat.

"Okay," you wheeze. "I'll go. I'm - fuck, sorry - I'll call you later. Let me know if you need anything."

Your head spins as you turn, and Dieter thunders down a few more steps before abruptly stopping as you hobble back to the door.

"No!" he shouts down the stairs the moment your hand touches the handle.

You look back at him confused, as he stands there, still keeping his distance, but reaching for you as if force of will alone could stop you in your tracks. And, in a way, it does. You turn to him, propping yourself up on the door, watching him as he tries not to recoil from you, especially now that he can see you up close.

You'd been pallid when you left the house. Now, you felt positively gray. Though you felt cold to the touch, your insides felt like you were roasting alive. No doubt, a few steps closer as he is, he can see the sweat beading on your forehead simply from the effort of keeping yourself standing there and not sliding down the door into a heap on the floor.

"You can't fuckin' drive in this state," he says, flapping his hands at you as his mind kicks into overdrive. "You're sick. You'll crash your fuckin' car. You need rest, and soup, and drugs - the good kind - and a doctor, I should call a doctor, you need to get better, you can't be sick, I can't - because I nee - lo- no!- care - " he stops himself, his mouth flapping as he stares and gesticulates in your general direction before letting his arms flop at his sides.

"I am not getting a new assistant," he settles with, hugging his arms tight around his body.

Before you can tell him he's stuck with you as his assistant whether he likes you or not, another cough beats its way out of your chest, and you slump against the door. Dieter is on you in a second, his balaklava'd face coming into view as he holds you gently by the shoulders as you splutter.

"You - you gotta get in bed. Now."

He's panicking, you know that much. He's never so much as seen you with a hangover, let alone seen you sick. So, you let him guide you upstairs, watching you with wild eyes through the balaklava as you wheeze at the stop of the staircase.

You let him pull you down the hallway, and push you into a spare room. You barely register his hands helping you peel away sweaty layer after sweaty layer of clothing until you're being guided into a soft bed, the sheets being pulled gently over you until you sink into the plush pillows and fall alseep before he's even left the room.

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

When you wake, some minutes or some hours later, you're not sure, it's to shuffling in the corner of the room. The handle of the door clicks before it slowly swings inward - that horror movie creak only playing in your head though fitting perfectly with the scene you're watching in front of you. When the door is half open, a shaggy head pokes around the frame, before shuffling in on croc covered feet, cardigan wrapped tightly around itself and mask replacing the balaklava he'd so hastily thrown on earlier.

"Dee?" you croak from the bed, failing to sit up as the weight of the blankets holds you down.

"Stay back," comes his muffled voice from beneath the mask as he shuffles in further. He walks to a dresser kept by the wall. There's nothing in it. There's nothing in this entire room except for empty furniture and blank walls. The only time it sees any action is after some of Dieter's more frivoulous parties, when one too many people can't make it home and need a place to crash. In essence, it's the spare room to the spare rooms spare room - not the guest room, or his room, or the room he'd designated as yours some years ago, that's down the hall next to his own, but the last of three rooms that sit empty nearly year round.

Dieter tugs on the dresser, his crocs gripping to the floor as he yanks it away from the wall and pushes it with a squeak all the way across the floor toward the side of the bed you're trapped in.

"Stay there," is all he says before he leaves you again, the giant piece of furniture slotted right up against the bedside. You couldn't move even if you wanted to, and now he's all but blocked in your easiest way of escape. You weren't going anywhere.

A moment later he's shuffling back in, a tray in his hands and what you think is an umbrella under his arm. He's staring carefully down at the tray - balance and dexterity having never been his strong suit - before placing it gently onto the dresser.

"Tea," he grunts, pointing to the tray, "that lemon ginger shit. Some other stuff too."

It's at the end of the dresser, beyond your feet, and not really of any use to you right now, but the sentiment is nice, especially coming from Dieter.

"Thanks, Dee."

He grunts again, shrugging his cardigan covered shoulders before taking the umbrella from under his arm and gently pushing the tray along the top of the dresser until it's within arms reach of you. When he's done, he nods to himself before backing out of the room, and closing the door. You hear the faint sounds of jesus fucking christ being muttered from the other side of the door as he walks away, no doubt to have a shower and rid himself of as many of your germs as he can before he goes about practicing lines and keeping himself busy.

That lemon ginger shit is smelling divine as you lay there, slowly peeling your arms out from the sweaty confines of the sheets. The soothing heat of it is just what you need - if you hadn't forced the stuff on him so many times in the past, you'd be stunned that he even thought of it himself.

Sitting up, an ache in your hips like no other, you groan and reach for the tea, taking a small burning mouthful, and swallowing it down with a gasp before taking another, then another, then another. The burn soothes the raw feeling in your throat, and when you can finally swallow a little more freely, if only for a second, you take a chance to look at the tray Dieter left with you.

Some other stuff, is an understatement.

There's bottled water, snacks undoubtedly taken directly from the stash you keep in his kitchen, plus a few of his own that he knows you steal when he's not looking. Then, there's what can only be described as a miniature pharmacy. Tissues, nasal sprays, throat lozenges, tylenol, cough syrup, and little packets of Liquid IV lined up on the tray for you to take your pick of.

It's exactly the kind of thing you've done for him countless times before when he's been holed up in bed, too sick or too hungover to deal with the world. Now, here he was doing it for you just as dutifuly as you ever had for him. He'd even gone as far to get dressed and leave the house, driving to a pharmacy just for you. You knew for a fact he didn't keep half of this stuff in the house, and neither did you.

Before you know it, your throat is constricting and your lip is wobbling, but another burst of pain rips its way through your chest as you cough again, and again, and again. Your eyes water, the tears forgotten, until the cough subsides. You'll cry later, when your throat hurts a little less and you have the energy. For now, you throw back some tylenol, finish your tea, and flop back down into the sheets, ready for sleep to take you once more.

Over the course of a few days, though you barely see his face again, you know he's been in to check on you by what he's left for you on the tray. A hot bowl of soup and soft bread. More tea. A bowl of yogurt and fruit when sunlight creeps through the cracks in the blinds. A stack of books. His iPad, loaded up with movies and TV shows that you're not sure were always on here, or if he downloaded them just for you. Fresh towels so you can take the most exhausting shower of your life, only to come back out to find underwear and one of Dieter's old worn movie tees waiting for you. Then there's more tea. More food.

He cares for you from a distance, day in day out, until your cough turns to a splutter, and you can breath a little deeper. And so can he.

Around the third day, when you're no longer coughing and feeling far more like yourself, but still too exhausted to do much of anything, you finally see Dieter's face again. He silently herds you into the room he calls yours, shuttering the windows as you crawl under the sheets, and curls into bed behind you.

"You smell different when you're sick," he mumbles into your neck. "Fuckin' hate it."

"Sorry," you whisper back to him in the dark. "I showered, but I -"

"No. You smell different. Sick different. Not gross different. Didn't smell like you."

Smiling into the dark, you let him snuggle into you as you drift off into the most restful sleep either of you have had in days.

tagging my Dieter beloveds: @schnarfer @missredherring @whatsnewalycat @sp00kymulderr @ozarkthedog

@ghotifishreads @rebel-held @amanitacowboy @readingiskeepingmegoing

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - All's Quiet on the BL Front

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

May 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 3 of 12 - I love how were getting a solid depiction of two queers just genuinely enjoying sex with each other. That’s actually rare in BL. In this case, it manages to also be weirdly adorable and cute.

Dee is such a tease. I guess Y likes a brat? 

LOOK at those bedroom eyes!

Linguistics corner: when these two are being serious, sweet, or flirty with each other they use rao/nai which is kind of old fashioned and charming and not common in BL. They move pretty seamlessly into gu/mueng and back depending on the style of convo, tho. It's FUN to hear them talk.

Let the fake relationship commence!

My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 12 eps - I HAVE THOUGHTS. I'm really enjoying the sinister backbone of this show. I hope they have the courage of their convictions in that regard and lean into a kind of sexy evil revenge narrative. It was a pleasure to watch the break up and I do not want a redemption arc for Ming or a romance for us. Fuck 'em, let’s just ride a revenge train, okay Joe baby?

That’s said, I totally sniffled at the ending scene where Ming (for two years!) has been paying penance cooking for two and waiting alone. Excellent pathos. Now, I understand how they're gonna make this a full 12 eps. And I’m excited about it. Carry on!

We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 7 of 16 - I wasn't a fan of Winny & Satang in My School President but I'm loving them in this. The thing with Q, Toey, and Chain had me hooting with laughter. I think I’m finally just easing into the relaxed absurdity of this show. The key is not to expect anything from it. Just them being tiny gay idiots.

Two Worlds (iQIYI) ep 10 fin - Someday I’d like to really enjoy a MaxNat show, but today was not that day. (I feel like ever since Between Us I’ve been generally disenchanted with established OG pairs and what they’re bringing to the table. Perhaps that’s a discussion for another day. Cherry Magic excepted, of course.) 

OK, so this final episode, they sure tried to fit a lot in. But that made the pacing better for me. So I kinda liked this weird cliff notes resolution to the story.

In conclusion:

MaxNat do a credible job with a messy script about parallel worlds, gangsters, and strange diseases cured by forest fruits. It sounds confusing because it is. The chemistry is excellent the side pair is entirely forgotten about, and one could drive a Tardis through the plot holes. Still, I found it modestly enjoyable if not at all rewatchable. 7/10 

Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 6 of 12 - I do love how bold and brash Moo is. He’s truly a great character, such an utter outgoing sunshine puppy focused on his pursuit of his older boy. I'm charmed by his utter harmlessness. They gave us a sweet coming out scene, and an awesome supportive mom. Frankly GMMTV has a good track record with moms. (With a few noted exceptions, of course.)

That said, I do keep forgetting this is a GMMTV offering. It just doesn't FEEL GMMTV. Just me?

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 1 of 10 - Starts tomorrow, will report on sitch next week. LeeFrank are back - not unlike the undead. But how do we feel about it? Unsure given their track record.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - I like it. I like our sulky 2nd lead. He’s pouty, adorable, brash, and adding some much-needed tension to this narrative. The blurring lines between show within a show is a lot of fun. Probably the best I've seen done in BL so far.

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - I like that we got backstory, but we also sort of already knew it. So this ep felt a bit like filler. They are wonderful when they’re on screen together but when they aren't it's a bit dull. I hope we just get them together for the next 4 eps. But this is Japan, so I doubt it.

Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - The image resolution on this show (via Iqiyi ) is terrible. Meanwhile, awkward crush. Jock nerd pairing. Dorky. Maybe a bit too much awkward/dorky for me? I'm not sold on this one.

Meanwhile the ordering then not eating or drinking of food continues. Very upsetting.

Boys Be Brave (Korea Viki) eps 5-8fin - This show was just never sure what it wanted to be. Slacker sunshine KiSub moves in with nerd JinWoo, mostly because he knows JinWoo likes him but won't confess and that's never happened to him before. It reminded me of some earlier KBLs like Behind Cut, yes is had bones but not much flesh, so it only just hung together and progressed through not very much plot in a jerking rattling fashion like an animated skeleton. All the story and chemistry was with the side couple and none of the screen time. That just annoyed me. What did this BL want to BE? Who tf knows. I, for one, don’t care, and resolve to think no more on it. 6/10 

Blue Boys (Korea Sat YouTube) - This ended at 4 eps on a cliffhanger. Since this is a very small studio I don’t have a lot of faith in there being a part two. But they have bundled both this BL, and the GL, bingable chunks on YT. So if you want to binge it, it’s there. Just be aware that it ends on a cliffhanger.

My thoughts?

Promising reunion romances full of class and coming out struggles but I grade with what we got, not on expectations, and you know I HATE a cliffhanger. So yeah, it HAD promise but as of now it gets a 4/10 - fatally flawed. I reserve the right to change my mind if they amend for damages.

It's airing but...

You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

A Balloon's Landing (Taiwan movie) trailer - A frustrated Hong Kong writer, Tian Yu, meets a Taipei street gangster, Xiang (Fandy Fan from HIStory2: Crossing the Line), and the two of them embark on a journey to find the Bay of Vanishing Whales. Along the way, they discover unexpected twists and turns and close bonds, which brings out the message that "there is always someone like you in this world who is waiting for you. This released to cinemas in Taiwan, no word on international release.

In case you missed it

A really really thorough and fascinating article on 2 Moons 2 and what happened.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

May Releases

VBL (Taiwan) is releasing 4 'Special Episode' epilogues to their 4 2023 shows every Friday this month on Gagaoolala, Viki & Viu. Not sure on search terms or how to find these. (Or, frankly, if we need them.)

5/10 – You Are Mine

5/17 – VIP Only

5/24 – Stay By My Side

5/31 – Anti Reset

5/25 The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer - HoTae & DongHee are back but unfortunately not in a cinema near me. Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS.

5/28 My Biker 2 (Thai movie YT?) - trailer

5/30 Knock Knock Boys (Thai Thurs WeTV) - I'm hoping I can get it elsewhere since my WeTV account is inactive, but I do love Best and I'm interested in seeing him in a new pairing. That said, I'm not wild about Seng... so I won't be too cut up if I can't get hold of this. More here.

5/31 The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) - May not be BL

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I'm a sucker for this king of casual claiming. (Only Boo)

It me! (Wandee Goodday)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @sunflower-positiiivity @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

[fishsticksloser]

Digital Hearts

Shelldon x reader's ai

Warnings: fluff, robots, technically not their kids but also their kids, slight angst, request at the end

A/N: robot playdate. Robot Playdate. ROBOT PLAYDATE! I wish we got more Shelldon... What if... What if...

Donnie couldn't believe it when Shelldon talked about another ai like him. Who would even be able to do that? Kendra? The one who turned his dear son against him?

No.

Kendra wouldn't think about getting that close again.

Jace? Jeremy? No, they followed Kendra.

From the way Shelldon was talking, itsounded like Donnie had never met the person who created the ai. Donnie was so focused on who the mystery inventor was that he couldn't even be mad at Shelldon for going out alone.

"And she like flew around like so elegant like." Shelldon hums, his LED eyes turning to slits showing he was 'closing' them. Donnie's eyes snap over to Shelldon, realizing something. Shelldon liked this ai.

"Well... Why don't you show me where you met this other ai. Maybe we can see her again." Donnie suggested, feeling this was the best way to find our the mystery inventor.

"Oh, Dee, you're the best!" Shelldon laughs and immediately zooms off. Donnie follows to come to a park, pulling his hoodie up to not draw attention to himself.

He keeps an eye on his drone, seeing no other drones in sight. There were kids with their parents, couples on blankets having picnics, but no drones. Shelldon didn't seem detured in the slightest, continuing through the park.

"Shelldon..." Donnie began when a purple blur flies right by his face, followed by Shelldon. Donnie turned and watched Shelldon chase after this other drone, hearing them both laugh.

"Isn't she amazing?" Shelldon stops in front of Donnie, his green eyes shining bright. The other drone stops next to Shelldon, her own eyes lite up as well.

"I'm Wisteria." The other drone introduces herself, Donnie noticing some similarties between Wisteria and Shelldon's designs. "It's so nice to meet you!"

"Wisteria!" Donnie and Wisteria both turn at the sound of her name, seeing you running up. "Wisteria, you can't just run off like that, what if someone came after you?"

Donnie watches you scold your drone a little, amusement dancing in his eyes. "It never ends." Donnie tells you, motioning to Shelldon. "He runs off all the time."

"So you're Shelldon's person." You say, holding out your hand. Donnie shakes it, nodding. "I figured you'd be... Different..."

"How do you mean?" Donnie asks, cocking his head a little.

"Well... Shelldon is... Amazing, I mean his design, his personality..." You say, both drones fly off, chasing and playing together. "I figured you were some loser, not caring where he went."

"Oh, no. I've grounded him many times for his escapes." Donnie shakes his head, brow furrowing. "The personality he curated himself. That's kind of the point of ai, isn't it?"

"You've got a point." You shrug, turning to watch Shelldon and Wisteria. "What made you create him?"

"To clean the house." Donnie answers simply, making you turn and glare at him. "I'm being serious. That was his original purpose. Then my brother's reprogrammed him because he showed favoritism towards me..."

"Your brothers... Reprogrammed him? What do you live in a family of geniuses?" You look at Donnie in shock and intrigue.

"Sweet Galileo, thankfully not." Donnie laughs, shaking his head. Donnie crosses his arms, watching as both drones stop. "Perhaps they just listen to my ramblings more than I believed. Either way... I fixed him before he killed me and here we are." Donnie uncrossed his arms and called for Shelldon. "We should get back home. Before he dies, he's been too stubborn to charge."

"Wait, take my number. I think both of them would like to see each other again... We can... Schedule playdates." You tell Donnie, grabbing his arm before he leaves.

"Fair enough." Donnie nods, taking your phone and putting in his number. He types it in quickly, handing your phone back. "Text me, I guess."

⋆｡ ﾟ｡☁︎👾｡ ﾟ｡⋆

"Dee! Did you see Wisteria today? She said she got an upgrade." Shelldon chirps, sliding under Donnie's arm as he tries to work. "She's now a 15.2!"

"Yes, Shelldon." Donnie sighs, managing to get his arm away from Shelldon and continue working.

Shelldon continued to gush about Wisteria, getting in Donnie's nerves. Sure, it'd been at least 6 months since the drones met, but just recently Shelldon has been non-stop talking about Wisteria.

"I just... I don't know what to do about him. He's driving me crazy!" Donnie groans, flopping back onto Mikey's bed. Mikey laughed, pushing his glasses up. "It's always Wisteria this, Wisteria that..."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Shelldon's feelings for Wisteria have... Progressed?" Mikey asks, pushing his glasses up.

"Progressed?" Donnie turns to look at Mikey, his brows furrowed. "What do you mean 'progressed'?"

"What if Shelldon has developed more romantic feelings for Wisteria?" Mikey explains, crossing his legs. Mikey likes at his brother, seeing the confusion on Donnie's face. "Let's face it, Shelldon isn't a little drone anymore. He's so far beyond that. Who's to say that he doesn't have these feelings."

"He's a kid."

"Technically—"

"He's only version 16. He's too young."

⋆｡ ﾟ｡☁︎👾｡ ﾟ｡⋆

"Can we talk about Shelldon and Wisteria?" Donnie asked you one day when he went to pick up Shelldon. You smile letting him inside. "Has Wisteria said anything to you? Been acting different?"

"She's has been talking about Shelldon more." You muse, smiling a bit wider at Donnie. "It's cute."

"I don't think so..." Donnie shakes his head, frowning a little. "They're young and... They don't understand what they're feeling."

"They won't ever learn if we don't let them experience."

[bengiyo]

Wandee Goodday Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, we got to see Dee and Yak getting mutual pleasure from their current arrangement before Wandee got embarrassed at work and decided to lie and say he had a new boyfriend. Dee asked Yak to be his fake boyfriend, but Yak refused on the grounds that they agreed to not get involved in each other's personal lives and also he didn't want to come out as a boxer. Dee ignored this resistance and then tried to trick Yak into spending time with him to get him to agree. Yak, ever the simp, acquiesced after Dee showed vulnerability. Also, we got more insight into Oyei and Cher, learning that Oyei took on debt during COVID, and Cher comes from a wealthy family. The two are a team and I love them.

Whoa are we opening on a nightmare memory?

Okay, I like this moment. If they're going to be friends with benefits, this is definitely a moment when Yak needed a friend.

Drake's tiddies is out. A gift for me and @happypotato48 and @yankeebastard who is here saying "Hey, Daddy."

Yes, Kao, ask that man direct questions. Now, throw Ter into the pool.

Poor Kwan. Ter seems more concerned with Dee than her.

NOT ROOM 666!!! THE DEVIL! This show said "Don't feel sorry for him. Even the Devil can feel a little bad when he got kicked out of heaven."

This show is so good. We cut beautifully to Yoryak enjoying the same offering Dee had given The Devil.

Very invested in these two talking about their crushes between their own tussles.

We got a new sign! "Be Available But Not For Everyone."

Be careful, Dee. Don't fall in love after telling him to practice confessing.

Interesting. I think Cher knows that Yak has plans beyond boxing and this gym. @yankeebastard thinks it might be a promise Yak made to his mom.

Cher is so gentle and careful with Yak. He lets Yak tell him what he needs to say with such sensitive prodding.

Not Yak getting horny listening to Dee exert himself and remembering their hookups.

The editors are doing a great job with the audio cues this week.

Wow, Taem is clearly a leader of Team Tote Bag.

Hold your ankles? Definitely not the first time Yak has been told that, among other things, I'm sure.

Dee, you gotta sort yourself when it comes to Yak.

I love that Oyei is always trying to get Cher in the shower with him.

Kao jumped up quick at the tea, and is so real for wanting to choke Dee out.

Keeping track of these two almost forgetting themselves and kissing. Excellent gay content.

The Devil is back and he is jealous. I hate this man. He meant it before when he said he didn't like men or Dee. Fuck this guy.

The whole gym is judging them and I love it.

Why wear your gym shirts if you don't want to be seen?

Oyei and Cher judging them together is so important to me.

Very smooth of Cher to just talk them out of the conversation about the parents.

David was correct about the mom.

Yes, scratch his back. I love the use of metaphor on this show.

Poor Kwan. I'm glad she can see through Ter.

I love Kao. Tell your friend is he embarrassing both of you.

Kao said try out my new line of products

Yoryak thought he was outside of the MySpace top 8 and got his feelings hurt.

I really liked the way they handled this HPV PSA. Good job, BL.

That was a solid episode. I like that they're tackling the blurring of the lines in the relationship explicitly, and I like that Dee recognizes that he's jealous. It's interesting having The Devil call out the relationship as fake and be right and wrong. I wanna think about the parents for a bit, because Cher checking that Oyei was okay with Yoryak felt pointed.

[jellyvibes710]

I'm aliveeee (Little Baby Blue AU)

So I made a thing! It took forever but I did it! I'm not the best with shading or backgrounds but I really like how these came out and I really hope you enjoy!!

This comic series will take event after the movie, it will be heartwarming but also painful, there will be some trigger warning ⚠ for some of the parts as well

The first few parts will be twin angst because I can't help myself, but dee will be doing his best to get leo better but as the weeks progress he's getting worse and worse till he eventually falls into a coma, around this time dee realizes that Leo's body isn't going to make it so he uses his big brain to come up with a plan to just make a clone of leo then transfer his soul to the Clone. He'll have to make a deal with big mama to get the right thing to accomplish this task, then leo flatlines for the first time. Although the first few parts are gonna be dark especially for the twins, traumatic for donnie because he's racing against a clock that's getting smaller and smaller, hearing his brother flatline multiple times and having to do more damage to his already fragile body just to bring him back, his twin senses were only sensing inpending doom from his dying twin, feeling a snap every time leo heart stops, hearing raph and mikey cry and bang at the door when they also heard him flatline, he didn't sleep the entire time and when he did it was brief, and having no choice but to put Leo's spirt in not only a copy of his body but a baby sized one because he knew if leo flatlined one more time he wouldn't bounce back from it, and in the back of his head he knew either way leo was going to have to relearn how to walk and talk because not only is his body demolished but his brain was scrambled and he was showing clear signs of heavy brain trauma BEFORE he slipped into a coma then when he does pull Leo's soul out (thank big mama for that tool) his spirt let's out a cry that'll haunt donnies mind forever.

It'll be traumatic for leo because last he knew he was drifting to sleep and now suddenly he's smaller, his vision is blurred so his environment is unfamiliar and dispute his twin senses he couldn't physically tell donnie was there with him but he knew donnie was scared, he couldn't hear anything because his ears were ringing so loud in his head that he couldn't hear donnies constantly apologizing as he has to pin leo down, make sure all his reflects are responsive, shine bright light in his face (which he did NOT like), leo was so scared that he was trembling and crying so loud donnie was glad he soundproofed the lab, it took hours for his sight and hearing to return to normal and the first thing he sees is a destroyed/very drained Dee, an image that'll linger in his head probably forever, but seeing him made leo immediately want to cling to donnie but he realized he couldn't even control his body the way he wanted which scared him and when donnie finally picked leo up and clung to him, he felt so small and vulnerable but he felt safe scooped up in Dee's hands which were warm from his constant fidgeting and rubbing his hands together, and if dee had to set leo down even for a moment he'd spirl into fear and start crying again because everything felt so fake but being held really grounded him to earth and kept his mind calm, for a few days he can't even tell if everything is real or not. Donnie doesn't even let mikey and raph see leo the first few days of being a baby because sadly it was donnies only option, either make a clone and put his brother's spirt in that or he dies and he'd have no way to see him again, he almost doesn't even make it and had to do cpr on leo two or three times while creating the clone and Leo's body was so damaged that each time he'd do cpr he'd have less and less time

It took just under a week for dee to build confidence to show everyone leo and explain why it was his only option, which everyone was clearly mad but understood the reasoning, dee also noticed that when he wore his ninja gear leo was constantly on edge and clearly stressed hence why everyone isn't wearing their gear to let leo kinda know that he doesn't have to worry, of course dee is the first to go back into his ninja gear because he feels like he needs to be ready for anything especially now that leo is so fragile, they gave a proper grave to Leo's old body since there wasn't anything they could do to save it. Then it's LOT of family bonding time and healing, mentally and emotionally for everyone, so it's gonna be heartwarming(hopefully) and also have its pained moments. I already did a few short comics with baby leo because I was mostly bored and I started building a story in my head and now I'm just kinda starting it >.>

This comic will be like dark chocolate, sweet but bitter

Or sour patch kids, sour sweet gone lmao

Who'll be in the comic? Everyone

I'm super excited to finally be getting started on this au and I really hope everyone enjoys it 💖

(Bonus)Some lil details I added while thinking of a storyline;

no matter how big and intimating mikey made himself look for the part you can tell that he's being super gentle with leo because he knows he naturally stronger in general then the rest of his bros, although while playing dead with leo was fun, when leo played along and flopped over it hit mikey just how close he was to actually losing his brother, small details with big impacts :]

Like- I-- just- just look at this picture, you can see the absolute care in his touch, the protective way he holds lil leo close while his face just screams "I won't let you get hurt again" and the realization of what it means to be an older brother and finally understanding raphs own overprotective tendency, mikey will definitely grow from this experience and his and raph because super close because of it, so there will be plenty of the sunset duo (I love this picture)

(Bonus #2 because I didn't sleep worth shit while working on this whole thing)

MORE BABY LEO HERE (interdiction)

HERE (Raphs/baby leo playtime)

AND HERE (mikey/babyleo + donnie/babyleo playtime)

But wait, there's more (April meets little leo)

Characters and (rough) story

Little baby blue AU

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 11

MASTERLIST

By the time she touched down in Pensacola, all Delilah wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the month. This past week had been exhausting, both emotionally and physically, and as she climbed into the Uber she ordered, she sincerely hoped it wouldn’t get worse when she arrived home and had to lay eyes on Andre for the first time in a week.

Judging from the layers of guilt that had been padding in her belly since she boarded the plane, ‘worse’ seemed more inevitable than anything.

Walking into the trailer park home she didn’t realize she would miss so much, a voicemail appeared in her notifications. Seeing it was from Josh, she quickly shook her head and rid herself of any of the numerous X-rated visuals her brain could resurrect. Putting him on speaker, she dragged herself and her suitcase toward her bedroom, his low teasing voice bringing a smile to her face even though the memory of him swirled in her gut like a ship in the middle of a storm.

"Hey, baby. About to get on the plane back to ATL. I had the best time with you this week. Uhh…miss you already, girl. Miss everything bout’chu, and I mean everything…Anyway, call me. Yeet! Mwah."

Dude actually blew a kiss. So cute. 

Pushing open the door to her bedroom, her heart leapt into her throat, her eyes wide at the tableau before her. The bed she shared with Andre was perfectly made, something she wasn't sure it ever had been since they moved into the house together. The expensive white satin sheets they’d unwisely splurged on one random day years ago and never used since then, draped the bed. On her side of the bed, a single red rose lay on her pillow along with a piece of notebook paper, folded with her name on it.

With numb legs, Delilah managed to lower herself to the mattress and took the note slowly from its place. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the paper, which she realized he’d spritzed with his favorite cologne. To top it all off, one scan of his familiar scribble caused the tears to instantly fill her eyes.

My Dee-Dee girl,

You've been gone for six whole days and I think I went a little insane. I think this was the longest time we’ve ever been apart and it sucks ass. All week Khalid kept telling me that you’re all I talk about since you been gone and I didn't even realize it. I've missed you being home with me. I wondered if the tryout was everything you dreamed of and I really hope you had fun. I was gonna call you, but I didn't wanna mess up your flow. 

I know you’re home already and when I come back, we're gonna have a candid discussion about you probably getting called back by WWE. Something tells me you did and I can’t wait to hear all about it.

I love you.

Dre.

P.S. Did you see the video I sent you?

Reaching for her phone, she searched around for said video and her heart sank to discover he’d sent an email to her three nights ago. Her chest tightened further as she remembered exactly where she was – whom she was with – at that exact time. She tapped the video open and found Andre standing in front of the mirror in their bathroom. Then, he opened his mouth and began singing the first couple of lines from what she recognized as Justin Bieber’s ‘Ghost’, one of his favorite modern songs. 

As her fiancé’s melodic voice sounded around their bedroom, her arms dropped to her thighs helplessly with his note still in her hands. Her eyes looked to the ceiling and saw nothing thanks to the tears blurring her vision and spilling down her cheeks. This video, this letter, didn’t sound like the same old Andre. This was a repentant Andre. An Andre she didn’t expect at all. She had come home with metaphorical boxing gloves on, waiting to confront the guy who still couldn't understand why the woman he was marrying was pursuing such a wild, unattainable dream. She had come home ready to move on from him. She had almost convinced herself that it was his fault she had ended up in bed, multiple times, with another man.

That if I can't be close to you

I'll settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

Sobs wracked Delilah’s body as she curled into the fetal position on the bed, her watery eyes resting on the video playing of Andre’s handsome face, his eyes closed as he sang his heart out to her. 

She fucked up. She fucked up so bad.

And the guilt was going to eat her alive.

----------------------

Five hours after some much-needed sleep, Delilah stood at the kitchen counter picking at the bowl of chicken salad she had made for herself. She had been disappointed to wake up and realize that the unscrupulous decisions that she made in Orlando were not one bad dream. She had gone to the bathroom to freshen up and winced as she was instantly transported back to said bad decisions, her mind replaying the visual of herself bent over the sink, Josh pumping away behind her. Same reason she was standing by the counter and not sitting down, as the image of her back arched against the countertop with his face buried between her thighs materialized the second she laid eyes on the table. Ditto with the majority of the furniture around her house and the numerous positions she’d been twisted into on each one. Long story short, she would never look at any of them the same way again.

The front door swung open, causing Delilah's stomach to lurch once again. She wished she could run away, and that notion did not waver as Andre bumbled inside the house, his trusty backpack on his shoulder and a big relieved smile on his face. "My baby is back!" he exclaimed, slamming the door with his foot as he made his way over to her. When his arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, she fought the urge to throw up on his flannel shirt.

"You're home early," she feigned a smile, crossing her arms defensively as she took refuge behind the counter once again.

If he noticed her strange behavior, Andre didn't let on. "I worked a lot of overtime this week when you were gone," he shrugged, grabbing her fork and stabbing it into her bowl of salad as he lowered himself down to the stool next to her. Even with his mouth full, his lips curled into that goofy little boy smile that always made her heart melt, and not for the first time, Delilah felt the bile rise to her throat.

"So how was it?" he asked her.

The simplest of questions, yet he might as well have asked her about quantum physics. How on earth was she meant to tell him that it was the greatest week of her life without telling him that she had cheated on him? How was she meant to admit that she hadn’t given him much thought because she was with another man? Could she bring herself to break his heart like that?

"It was good." Her answer was flat and curt, her gaze studying the countertop like it was the most fascinating thing in that moment.

Andre just laughed, his face still alight from the triumphant return of his fiancee. "That's it? Just good?" he asked. "So modest. C’mere." He stood and held his hand out. When Delilah took the invitation, he led her away from the kitchen, over to the couch and gathered her into his arms when they sat down. "Tell me. I wanna hear all about it."

So many times she had hoped for this, him finally showing an interest in the life she was pursuing. But instead, this abrupt personality turn of his was rubbing her the wrong way. His happy-little-camper attitude was grating on her nerves, and the guilt bubbling inside her was the reason.

"Why?" she demanded, the question spilling out before she could think it through.

Slightly taken aback by the question, Andre pushed on. "Why? Cuz you're my girl. Cuz I know how much you want this and I'm anxious to hear how it all went down."

Oh, he went down, alright, Delilah thought angrily. She understood that most of the rage she was feeling was directed at herself, but she couldn't help but what the hell had gotten into this man sitting before her. It was as if he knew he was on the verge of losing her, and now he was pulling out all of his famed charm to reel her back in. "Oh really? You care now? What changed?" she asked coldly, pushing out of his arms and crossing hers defensively over her chest.

The wounded look in his eyes made her heart sink. "Baby, I've been an asshole about this. I admit it," he said softly, taking her hand once more. "But I missed you so much, you have no idea."

"Oh riiiiight, I see. You didn’t have your fuck buddy for one week and now you’re all up in your feelings!" Delilah argued. She knew that she sounded bitter and wounded, but she couldn't help it. The emotions of the past week were rushing over her at such a dizzying pace and she wasn't coping well at all, struggling to find her footing on this rollercoaster that her life had suddenly become.

Andre, meanwhile, had had enough of Delilah’s antagonism. "Dee, what the fuck is going on?" he struggled not to raise his voice, scooting back on the couch a few inches. "I thought you wanted me to be more supportive!"

Delilah jumped to her feet. "I want you to be supportive because you believe in me, Andre! Because you're proud of me. Not because you got lonely!" Sometimes she wondered if he understood her at all, if he had heard anything she had said over the last several months.

But Andre was tired of this already. He had just admitted to being wrong and yet she was still berating him. "I can't win with you," he threw his arms out, standing to regain some sense of equilibrium. "What the fuck happened out there?"

"Nothing!" she answered, a bit too quickly.

“Well something happened!” Flinging his arm to the side, Andre was in fight mode. "Just days ago, you were talking about how I didn’t care about you, and now that I’m putting in some effort, you want me to just back off and drop the whole thing? What kinda bipolar bullshit is that?" They had been here too many times, all over this house, outside this house, arguing about anything and everything, specifically on one increasingly annoying subject.

"I want you to actually mean it!" Delilah lashed out, no longer able to contain her emotions. The tears threatened to fall again as she pleaded with him, arms extended helplessly. "I want you to come to one of my matches. Dre. Just one. I want you to see what I do, see why it's so fucking important to me!"

"How many times have I told you, wrestling ain’t my thing," he dismissed. "You don't like all the things I like, but you don't see me cryin’ and beggin’ you to like ‘em."

Crying and begging. He couldn’t even see that his nonchalance had forced her to confide in someone else, and she’d ended up doing much more than that with him. Maybe if he knew, maybe if she told him what his apathy had done to their relationship, his mind would finally, finally change. But she refused to feel guilty for following her dreams. She refused to settle. "I don't need you to be a fan of wrestling!" she argued, "I don’t give a flyin' fuck if you don’t know any of the moves or any of the wrestlers’ names!"

"Then what is this abou-" Andre interrupted.

"For fuck’s sake, Andre! I want you to be a fan of me!" she screamed, her voice breaking as she kicked their wooden coffee table across the tiny room, “I want you to know my name! I need you to support me, to care about my wrestling, dammit!”

An awkward silence fell over the room, punctuated by the heart-wrenching sounds of her sobs as the love of his life’s words sank into his soul. For nearly a year, he had watched her morph into someone he no longer recognized, and not liking what he saw, he distanced himself, hoping it would be out of her system in due time. But now it was clear that this wasn’t going away, and it was breaking both their hearts as what they had – what he thought they had – was starting to collapse before his very eyes. 

"You wrote me some letter and sang a song. Big deal!" she continued through her tears. "You're doing everything but taking an actual interest in watching me find myself, because that’s exactly what I’m doing, Andre, and you can't handle it." She shrugged, even more emotionally exhausted than she was before she returned home. "You laugh, and you joke, and you tease me about it. You laugh at me with your friends. You laugh with my mother." Letting out a sardonic laugh, she shook her head, relaxed her shoulders and met his eyes. If she was going to be honest, she was going to have to be completely honest. 

"You have never believed, not one time, that I could do this. You wanted me to fail just so your life wouldn't have to change. But I didn’t fail! They liked me out there! They want us to move to Orlando in three months so I can start training at the Performance Center. That’s another step closer to NXT, and from there, I could make it to the main roster. I went out there and I left it all in the ring and for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged somewhere and they agreed! The biggest wrestling company in the world wants me, Andre! It ain’t no dream no more and I’m sorry if that’s a problem for you."

Again, silence. Sniffling, she wiped her tears with her forearm and turned, walking toward the bedroom. She was done. And it had nothing to do with Josh, or with wrestling. She was just over it, and she was desperate to let off some steam because if she stayed this way she would most likely combust.

"Where are you going?" Andre asked, watching her change into her sneakers, which he noticed were brand new. Her suitcase was open and filled with more items than it had when she left. Things that, in real time, neither of them could quite afford. She wasn't lying. WWE were pulling out all the stops to bring her into their ranks.

Grabbing the keys to her motorcycle, Delilah responded, "To Tank’s gym. Need to work out." She was still a little tired, but she’d much rather be outside than stuck in this hellhole she was about to call her matrimonial home. She longed to talk to a certain someone but he was in faraway Atlanta and she really couldn’t keep running to him with her problems. Not anymore anyway. Not when he had become one of those problems.

Andre looked dumbfounded that she was leaving this unfinished. "We ain’t done talking, Delilah! You can’t just walk out on me!" 

With a bitter chuckle, she picked up her gym bag. "Damn right I can," she informed him, walking past him towards the bedroom exit. Just as she swung open the door, he grabbed her, his strong arm wrapped around her slender waist. Blushing as she glared hard at him, he cleared his throat. 

"A’ight. Gimme ten minutes to change. I'm coming with you," he said quietly, blushing harder when she raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I'm serious, baby. Let's take the truck. I wanna see you, see what you're all about."

--------------

THOUGHTS? Is Andre finally coming around?

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[silvvermst]

BOY FRIEND

SYNOPSIS :: damn! Who knew you and that nerd were going to be best friends with benefits?

NOTE :: all characters are 18 and above

TYPE :: fluff / smut

WARNING :: well, smut and feelings !!

It goes without saying that the two of you were inseparable since children. You've always been best friends, that is until you both attended middle school which had different cliques, once you're in that group they're the only ones who you'll be friends with. So, with that, your friendship with Warren faded, from frequent sleepovers to calling just once a week. Before it would be the two of you hanging out together in lunch, but now he's with his own friends and you're with yours.

You didn't expect to run into him in Blackwell Academy, you didn't even know he's a student there. It just sorta happened when you sat in Ms Grant's class and you saw him. Then, everything fell into place because the moment the two of you hung out after school, the nostalgia was there, you got to talk about everything that happened in your lives where he wasn't present. It was perfect!

So the very next day, no silly cliques, just another day where you didn't have to hold back from hanging out with him, and it looks like he feels the same. But your new friends at Blackwell still can't wrap their head in how you guys are friends.

“Seriously, why are you hanging out with that guy?” Dina asked, as she's busy painting her nails on your bed.

“He's a sweet guy, Dee. Plus, he's my childhood best friend.”You answered while jotting down notes on your paper for homework, “And don't you dare spill nail polish on my bed!”

So there it is, you guys had a platonic history. That sums it up, but then how come his stolen glances for you somehow tells something else. Pity you haven't caught up to yet. Until he couldn't help himself and he had to make you realize it or he's going to go crazy.

You guys didn't even get to process what the fuck you were doing, it was just one late night where you were both stuck at a party thrown by the Vortex Club, both drunk from red solo cups. Somehow the both of you ended up in the same room, everything was blurry, but the moment he said how beautiful your eyes were ever since back then, your hands were all over him as your lips drunkenly stole his. Then his hands started roaming your body once he got comfortable, and turned the tables around as he took the lead further. No matter how drunk he was, he couldn't even dare to hurt you, everything he did that night was soft and gentle. Even though that night was a blur, you can't forget the feelings that emerged from just, that, one time.

Then, a week has passed both of you had decided not to ignore each other, just over a mistake. This mistake can't be the only reason that you guys should stop being friends, again. Yeah, just a mistake. But can you really when you have already felt his touch? So, what did you do? You convinced him to think it through

You both promised it would be the last, spouting nonsense about how it was just a spur of the moment, a mistake. Yeah, fuck that. Because after just two days, the both of you didn’t get to stop yourselves from making out in his dorm, when you promised it would just be a study session. Who knew it would turn into a makeout session?

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, his voice fills with turmoil, but his lips didn’t stop an inch from exploring your neck, nipping every part of you, desperate to at least leave a mark on you if this will be the last time. 

You couldn’t even think straight by how much attention he’s giving you, every time you feel his touch, you burn for him that’s slowly turning into an obsession. You’re sure you will be needing this everyday. His hand slowly snaked towards your waist, pulling you closer to him making you straddle his legs as both of you sink in his bed.

“I want this as much as you, Warren.” Your hands run through his hair, loving the feeling of how soft it is under your hands, in turn his hands trapped you in place his hold firmly settles on your hips while his left is at the back of your head, urging you closer to his lips and you obliged.

This time the kiss you both shared was much harsher than earlier, your passion and desire mixing with his lust and yearning. It didn’t take long when you impatiently removed his shirt, as he unbuttons yours, and the moment the piece of fabric wouldn’t come off he took an exasperated sigh, and you chuckled at his actions.

“Don’t you have any patience, Dr. Graham?” Laughing lightly, when his cheeks turned red by the way you were saying that silly nickname has got him all worked out, and it was evident as you felt him squirm under you. Your hands softly trace his chest down to his belly button until you reach the hem of his pants, you can feel him shudder and how his hold on your body seems to tighten.

“Please.” He quietly moaned, using every self-control to stop himself from tackling you and pinning you down by how you tease him. His hands moved to your face, caressing your cheeks. Even now, he’s still so sweet towards you. How can you not fall for him?

You gave him what he was needing, unfastening his belt and unbuttoning his pants, he can’t stop himself from moaning your name. You didn’t even realize when the world flipped upside down, because you were now laying your back on his bed and he’s on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” He whined, placing soft kisses on your ear as if it’s his way of apologizing, you smiled to yourself and wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

“It’s ok, let’s do whatever you want tonight.” It was the last words you uttered before he pinned your arms to the sides of your head. Those eyes, again, you’ve seen it before when you caught him staring at you. Something dark and depraved, but that only spurred further on when he took off your top, kissing every inch of your body to your chest making sure to hear those lovely moans of yours. He releases your wrist, but he still holds you down pressing your hips on his bed, as he goes down on you. 

You immediately covered your mouth from moans escaping past your lips, afraid of getting too loud and getting caught. Your other hand traveled to his hair, pressing him further on you. The pleasure was too much, but you need more. Everything he does was mixed with hunger and gentleness, like a starving man who finally found an oasis yet he’s careful with every part of you. 

Quiet moans and pants filled his room, as your hand tries its best to keep you from getting louder and louder. Yet the moment you reached your climax was when he stopped, that you didn't notice you lett out a needy whine.

He smiled at you, wiping his mouth with his hand before reaching from his night stand and pulling out a condom. 

“Warren…” You called out to him, your heart beat getting faster with every second.

He closed the gap between the two of you, resting his forehead against yours, “Are you really okay with this? We can just cuddle for the night.”

You immediately shake your head, “I want to do this with you, please. I’m okay, really. This is your second time asking me that.”

“I just don’t want you to regret it or make you feel uncomfortable. You know me, it takes me a bonk in the head to realize I’m overstepping. And honestly, I don’t want you to get hurt.” he whispered the last sentence before kissing your forehead.

God, it almost feels like the two of you were lovers at this point.

“I won’t get hurt because it's you. Unless, you're having second thoughts?” You asked gingerly, afraid if he realized that this isn't worth it. That you weren't worth it.

“No! I love this, the two of us. You're so gorgeous and sweet, I can't even begin how hot you are right now.” His rambling caused you to smile sweetly while a blush spread all over your face.

“Just shut up and kiss me, you dork.” You whispered before he kissed your lips, tasting your mouth then pulling down his pants and putting on the condom he got earlier.

“Warren!” You whined out his name, earning a grunt from his as he pushed further in you.

Your hands were on his shoulders, while his was at your back to support you up. It was that moment when you felt every thing crumble and was replaced with pleasure, feeling every part of him on your body. His hand runs up to your mouth to cover it, stopping you from moaning his name louder, he wants to be the only one to hear you like this. Hell, he wants to be the only one who does these things to you.

Every thing around you suddenly becomes blurry and his face was all you see, pants and moans coming out from his mouth, while the sweat on his brow glistens from the moon light. He looks so ethereal. You couldn't help but kiss him again, and he kissed you back much hungrier than the last. Then, everything falls apart both of you reaching your climax and coming down from the high.

“Look like a Goddess.” He mumbles, but it went pass your ears and instead kisses your earlobes, touching every corner and curves of your body wanting nothing more to wake up and see marks and bruises proving that this night wasn't just a fantasy that has been swirling on his mind ever since he saw you again.

Both of your exhausted bodies lay softly skin to skin on his bed, while he cleans you up and offers you a clean shirt, his cologne and the detergent he uses mixing together that lulls you to sleep. His hand reached for the covers and pulls you closer to him. You didn't say anything afraid to ruin the moment, while all he did was brush your hair with his fingers.

"Will this be a frequent fling?" He asks, you can't find any emotion on his voice. It was as if everything was casual to him. Yet his words and the tone of his voice, almost sunk your heart.

"Fling?"

He nods, “Why? You, do you want this to be something real?” He immediately questioned you, this time with startle and a bewildered expression. You instantly looked away from his eyes, afraid he'll see how tears gleamed in your eyes.

“No.. I'm okay with just a fling.” You said, burying you face in his neck to avoid his searching eyes.

“Oh.. sure, but we'll still be friends, right?” He asked nervously. So that's how it is, his friendship with you was much more important than starting a relationship.

“Yeah, always.” You mumbled, as you hugged him closer. This is enough, as long as you get to hold him. But for you, he's worth so much more that you'd settle with this friendship.

[babydollfoster]

First Date with Team Free Will

a/n: i honest to god don’t think i’ve posted a fic on here despite how much i talk about it >_<!! so here’s somethin i threw together in the span of a couple of hours because i’m on a rewatch and i’m halfway thru s4 and i LOVE the boys:( so here! proof i can write, not just talk about it! also afaik you can read this as any gender :) fem, masc, neither, both… don’t think there’s any defining qualities. much love!

pairings: sam winchester/reader, dean winchester/reader, castiel/reader

warnings: fluff, implied sexual content (w/ dean)

SAM

he’s SUCH a romantic. god, look at him, just- when he asked you, so sweet ‘nd kind, if he could take you out some night, how could you say no? dean gives his blessing by handing over the impala’s keys the next day and you and sam end up at a secondhand bookstore. you judge books by their covers and eventually settle on swapping something you enjoyed for the other’s; sam slips you a book called their eyes were watching god (“don’t- don’t give me that look. the title isn’t ‘cringe’! it’s beautiful. i promise you’ll enjoy it.”) and you hand rebecca over with a beaming grin, which falls into a look of surprise when you learn he hasn’t read it (“it’s a classic! how- okay, it’s a slow start, but you’ll love it.”) you grab takeout (your pick, sam insisted) and end up at a park, rolling a dusty picnic blanket out from the depths of the trunk and sitting under a tree, swapping quips and comments every once in a while. eventually, you end up with your head in sam’s lap and his hand in your hair, neither of you paying attention to your books no more, no, now you’re just… talking. it’s domestic and loving and romantic so you sit up, weasel your way into sammy’s lap and kiss him so delicately and he does the same back until you’re both almost devouring each other, literally stealing the other’s breath until you pull away, panting and giggling until sam whispers, “can we do this again?” and you whisper “every single day, sam.”

DEAN — MDNI, 16+

he sticks to the classics. he takes you out for dinner at the nearest diner and a midnight showing of whatever horror movie is out right now. you share a bucket of popcorn as you’re snuggled in the back right corner, cackling at cheesy jumpscares (“oh, i’m sooo scared.” “shut up, dee!”) and dry fake screams before you stumble back into baby after having smuggled in a flask of whiskey and collapse into the front bench, still too buzzed to drive, and kiss each other until your heads spin and the stars blur into one. eventually you pull away long enough for dean to drive you to the motel and you collapse into bed together; nothing happens, no, not on his first date with you. he wants to treat you right, sweetheart, but you’re both stripped down to your underwear nonetheless and hold each other close like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. the next morning, on the other hand, once the headache has set in and you’re oh so beautiful in the morning light, dean settles himself between your legs and noses your thighs apart. who are you to say no when dean’s right there and ready, huh?

CASTIEL

cas hasn’t ‘dated’, not on earth, certainly not in heaven, but he rifled through his host’s distant memories and took some inspiration from when jimmy courted amelia. so when cas slips his hands into yours one darkened evening, standing on the sidewalk in light rain, and asks if he ‘could take you out sometime’, you smirk and say, “how’d you learn that one?” but you agree nonetheless, and let the angel take the reigns. he whisks you away, dropping a message to sam and dean that you’re both in california and will be for the next three days and not to worry, he’ll bring you back unharmed (the boys freak, but you both ignore their calls). he takes you window-shopping, you eat at famous spots in LA and spend a little too much money, you sit atop the hollywood sign and learn the constellations, you teach cas how to have fun late one night at the beach and when you’re both breathless, backs covered in sand as you stare up at the heavens, he turns his head to you and asks, “may i kiss you?” and you whisper, “i thought you’d never ask.” and sure, he’s a little clueless, but he’s confident in how he has the rest of forever to learn how to please you, the way a human would.

taglist: no one yet! ask away :)

[blurred-pride]

heyyyy im doing my every-few-months event of existing because nobody else would, so I'm here and I'm gonna try to do some of the requests while I'm in front!!

-Dee (they/them)

[axel-skz]

Though I reach out my hand, there’s nobody to hold it.

Part 1

A/N: I will not lie, I cried writing this. All up in my feels and whatever. Anywho, you will hate me now… for hurting you with how this ends… and I would apologise but I’m not sorry 😆 not everything gets better, not everything ends well. Some people are genuinely temporary. Enjoy them while they last but don’t hold onto them because they will leave. One way or another. Now, song roulette time, we got sunshine. I can’t say I have listened to it much but I googled the lyric translation and bro, thats so cute 😭.

Chan messed up too much… what happens now?

You and chan had been living separately for a while. It had been so long since you talked to each oher. Chan tried calling a couple times but even he knew there was no way of redeeming himself. There wasn’t really much to say now. The trust was gone.

The other guys seemed to find out very soon that you guys had a fight because it only took 2 days for them to start spamming you with apologies.

You couldn’t describe the amount of pain you were in. Not only to find out what chan had actually thought of you all this time… but the boys too?

They had warned him of you? How the hell were you supposed to come back from that? What was so bad about you that they all had wanted you gone so bad? That they needed to pass out warnings?

Now they were apologising. Whats the point of apologising now? What could they even say? ‘Sorry, you suck and we noticed’ or ‘we want the best for chan and… you arent even close.’

You had tried your best with them. You cared for them so much and to your face, they had been caring too. There were times where you felt you had no one but them. They were so important to you. It ripped everything in you to shreds even thinking about how wrong you were.

You couldn’t afford to take time off work, you had used your savings to get a new apartment. It was a miserable existence. Every day blurred together and any time you were home, you wouldn’t leave your bed. Any holidays or days off were spent getting all the tears out so that when you did re-enter civilisation the next day, you wouldn’t fall apart.

Days passed, then weeks, then months… you slowly got better, life started to move again. Little things made you happy again… but for a little while, smiling about those little things made you cry. He would call you immature in your head. Again and again until you could hear ringing in your ears and the tears wouldn’t stop.

You had very little confidence in yourself growing up. It was a hard thing to have and you had been doing so great. Self love. What a freeing concept?

It was all gone for a while. Not a speck of it in sight.

Until slowly, you go it back. Slowly, you appreciated yourself. Started liking how simple things made you light up. You got in touch with old friends and your life started to feel whole again. Everything was going and the pain didn’t hurt so bad. It was disappearing.

But that all came crashing down one night when someone was knocking on your door. You opened it, expecting your pizza but there in all his glory, stood a very drunk Chan with an even more drunk Felix.

Tweedle dee and tweedle can’t-stand-on-his-own were singing tik tok songs. They looked surprised when you opened the door. As if they had no clue you lived there.

‘Hey!? How are you??? It’s been ages’ Chan said as they both sauntered in.

‘What are you doing-‘

‘WOW! I like your new place. You should invite me over for a sleep over sometime,’ Felix interupted.

You rolled your eyes as you looked out into the hallway, making sure there weren’t any more drunk stray kids dawdling around. (I’m hilarious, I know)

You closed your door and got them a water bottle each as you sat them down in the living room. There wasn’t much room to talk to them because they kept bouncing gibberish off each other. When your food arrived, you gave them two slices each and they were basically knocked out after that.

You grabbed a blanket and put it over them. This gave you a chance to really get a look at Chan. He never got drunk. He didn’t like drinking. This was out of the ordinary for him. That and the fact that of course he looked even more tired then usual. As you looked at Felix, you noticed he looked tired too.

You couldn’t understand why you were being so nice. You had no reason to be. When they eventually woke up on a sidewalk somewhere, after their drunken adventures, they would have no reason to even think of you. Let alone blame you for not helping.

But here they are, fed and passed out on your sofa. You couldn’t stand to look at them anymore so you got up and went to your room. It was harder to sleep knowing they were in the next room. He was in the next room.

But eventually, with a few tears and a hint of heartbreak, you fell asleep.

You were woken up by whispering, loud whispering. If you wanna whisper, why do it loudly? Does that not defeat the point of whispering?

You opened your eyes to Chan and Felix talking to each other. When they both looked back at you and saw you awake, they both jumped. Then started apologising profusely for having come here.

‘What are you doing in here?’ You asked groggily.

‘We um-we made you breakfast,’ Felix replied.

‘We were gonna wake you up but you looked so peaceful…’ Chan added on.

‘You didn’t need to do that,’ you said as you fidgeted with your hands.

‘We did! You had no reason to look after us last night but you did… we really appreciate it,’ Chan said.

‘It’s nothing. Look, I have to go to work so you guys should probably leave now.’

They didn’t think too much and apologised again as they started getting ready to leave. Just before they left though, Chan asked if he could talk to you… alone. You were hesitent and honestly? The mere idea instilled a world of dread in you. But he kept insisting on atleast talking once so you gave him a chance. You guys decided to meet at your apartment again the next day. You would have gone to his but… that place held every memory of you both together.

The next 24 hours were uncomfortable and you couldn’t get anything else done.

The agonising time seemed to come to an end finally though as you heard the knock on your door. You stopped and looked in a mirror to make sure you looked okay. Then you felt stupid for doing that because he didn’t deserve your effort.

You opened the door and really looked at him today. He looked good… more then good… he was wearing your favourite shirt.

You looked away as you let him in. Not even registering that he had said hello to you.

He went over to the sofa and sat down as you sat in an armchair. There was an awkward silence that you definitely did not plan to break. So inevitably, he did.

‘I don’t want to beat around the bush… I want to say I’m sorry… I was terrible for what I said…’

It angered you that this was what he thought was wrong… what he said? Really?

‘What? That all? Not sorry for lying about liking me the whole time? Not sorry for knowing there was something ‘wierd’ about me but still stringing me along? I’m too immature and self involved for you but you’re sorry for what? Letting me know? Letting it slip how you really felt?’

‘I was stupid for saying that because I didn’t mean it… I might’ve had those thoughts come to me in the first week of knowing you but it was stupid and I never actually thought you were those things… what you did hurt me and I… wanted to hurt you back…’

‘I get that… but actually… I don’t. I know what I did was wrong too and I’m sorry but… what you did… there isn’t any way to undo that. I can’t trust you anymore. And even if I could magically get over what you thought, the fact that the other guys told you not to be with me? I can’t even begin to unpack that. I can’t be around any of you anymore. I would have to hate myself to subject myself to that.’

He didn’t know what to say as he looked down. Tears welling up in his eyes as he said sorry again for the millionth time.

But you both sat there, in the silence, knowing these were your last moments together… this was it…

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

A/N: 😈

This is you rn:

This is me:

I’m sorry 😂 it’s ok though, I just got rejected by my cat so I’m sad too.

The Hyunjin story part 2 hopefully is next to be published. I’m having a hard time writing it but we’ll get there

Please reblog (with hashtags if you can pls) and like and gimme feedback. I’ll see you next time :)

[cheynovak]

A Night to Remember

Part 9: Home sweet home?  

Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N         

Warnings: unfaithful,  divorce, hurt, angst, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

Before you read... I'm sorry in advance.

--    

Will the world believe that Jensen and Y/N were acting, will the world believe the picture was a publicity stunt? But more importantly, will they?       

Or is their tension towards each other, their ‘harmless’ flirting going to burst into flames? How much longer will they be able to keep their professional distance?     

-- 

Jensen had just returned home from a whirlwind convention tour, his heart heavy with unresolved emotions from his encounter with Y/N in Greece. They had met under the dazzling Mediterranean sun, shared stolen moments, and ignited a spark that was impossible to ignore. But their time together had been marred by an argument that left them both reeling, and there had been no chance to mend the rift before he had to leave. 

As he walked through the front door of his Austin home, the familiar warmth and comfort did little to ease his mind. Danneel, his wife, greeted him with a forced smile, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. Their three kids were a blur of excitement, hugging and fighting for his attention, but Jensen's thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. 

It was after the kids had gone to bed that the storm finally broke. Danneel had been waiting for the right moment, and now, in the quiet of their living room, she couldn't hold back any longer. 

"Jensen, we need to talk," she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. He turned to face her, guilt gnawing at his insides. "What's wrong, Dee?" 

"What's wrong?" she repeated, incredulous. "You tell me. You've been distant for months, Jensen. And now, I find these." She held up his phone, the screen glowing with incriminating evidence. 

Jensen's heart sank as he saw the messages he had exchanged with Y/N, the late-night phone calls, and the photos from Greece. He had been careless, letting his guard down in moments of weakness. 

"Danneel, ..." he started, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me, Jensen! You've been sneaking around behind my back with her, telling me not to worry. How long has this been going on?" 

"It wasn't like that," Jensen protested, his voice rising. "Y/N and I... we connected, yes, but it was never physical. We had a rough time, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I was trying to sort out my feelings." 

Danneel's eyes filled with tears, her anger giving way to heartbreak. "You should have been sorting out your feelings with me, Jensen. I'm your wife. We have a family. Do you even realize what you've done?" 

"I know, Dee, I know," he said, stepping closer, but she backed away, shaking her head. "Do you? Because it feels like you've forgotten everything we've built together. You've been so wrapped up in your own world, you didn't even notice me slipping away." 

Jensen felt a pang of regret, realizing the extent of the damage he'd caused. "I'm sorry, Danneel. I never meant to hurt you. I was confused and lost, but I know that's no excuse." 

She wiped away a tear, her expression hardening. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Jensen. How do I know this won't happen again? How do I know you're not in love with her?" 

His silence spoke volumes. He couldn't deny the feelings he had for Y/N, but he also knew he couldn't bear to lose Danneel and their family. Danneel’s next words threw him off balance. 

“Jensen, I think we need to take some time apart,” Danneel said, her voice steady but laced with pain. He stared at her, stunned. “Apart? Danneel, please, we can work through this together. I don’t want to be away from you and the kids.” 

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I need time, Jensen. Time to heal, to figure out what I want, and to see if I can ever trust you again. I can’t just pretend everything is okay when it’s not.” 

Jensen felt a surge of panic. “What about the kids? How will we explain this to them?” Danneel thought for a second, “Right now, nothing too much, we’ll tell them your work is taking longer. I’ll call you like we used to do.” 

He wanted to protest, to plead with her to reconsider, but he could see the resolve in her expression. She needed this space, and if he truly wanted to make things right, he had to respect her wishes. 

“Okay,” Jensen said quietly. “I’ll stay somewhere else for a while.” She nodded, wiping away a tear.  

The next few days were a blur of packing and quiet, painful conversations. Jensen found a temporary place to stay, a small apartment not too far from their home. Saying goodbye to his children was the hardest part; their confused and sad faces tore at his heart. 

“Why are you leaving, Daddy?” their oldest asked, her big eyes filled with worry. 

“I just need to take care of some things for work, sweetheart. But I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you very much,” Jensen assured her, hugging her tightly.  

Once he was settled in his new place, the loneliness set in. The apartment was stark and impersonal, a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made. He spent his days focusing on his work and his nights thinking about how he had ended up here. 

Danneel, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep things normal for the kids. She threw herself into her routines, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy while grappling with her own feelings of betrayal and sadness. 

One evening, after putting the kids to bed, Danneel found herself scrolling through old photos on her phone. Pictures of happier times, family vacations, birthdays, and quiet moments at home. She felt a pang of longing for those days, wondering if they could ever get back to that place. 

Finally, after nearly two months apart, Danneel reached out to Jensen. They agreed to meet at a small café, a neutral place where they could talk without the weight of their home hanging over them. 

Jensen arrived early, his heart pounding with anxiety. When Danneel walked in, looking both familiar and distant, he stood up, unsure of what to expect. 

“Hi,” she said softly, sitting down across from him. 

“Hi,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. 

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence heavy but not entirely uncomfortable. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Danneel began. “And a lot of healing. These past few weeks have been incredibly hard, but also... enlightening.” 

Jensen nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I’ve realized that I still love you, Jensen. But love isn’t enough. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that’s going to take time.” She reached across the table, taking his hand. 

Jensen felt the warmth of Danneel's hand in his, but the words that followed shattered the fragile hope he had been nurturing. 

“Jensen, I don’t think I can live with you anymore. I need to know that your mind and heart are no longer with Y/N. This separation isn’t just about space; it’s about healing and trust.” 

His heart sank. He had been clinging to the idea that they could rebuild their life together under the same roof. “Danneel, I still think about her sometimes,” he admitted, the honesty painful but necessary. “But my priority is you and the kids. I want to be the father they need and the husband you deserve.” 

She pulled her hand back, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve never felt betrayed like this, Jensen. I’ve tried to understand, to forgive, but every time I look at you, all I can think about is the hurt. I don’t know if I can move past this.” 

His throat tightened, the reality of her words cutting deep. “What are you saying, Dee?” 

“I think we need to get a divorce,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I don’t think I can ever fully trust you again. For the sake of my own sanity and the well-being of our kids, I think it’s the best decision.” 

Jensen felt a wave of despair crash over him. “Danneel, please, can we try counseling together? Anything to avoid this.” She thought long about her next words. “You said yourself you were never physical with her. But the fact that you kept lying about her made it very clear she is more than just a hookup.”  

Tears welled up in Jensen’s eyes as he struggled to find the right words. I’ll always love you and will do everything I can to be a good father.” 

Danneel nodded, her own tears falling freely now. “I know you will, Jensen. And I believe you do love me in your way. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. Maybe this was meant to be.” “I’ll talk to a lawyer and start the process,” she said quietly. “We’ll figure out a way to tell the kids together.” 

Jensen nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He watched as she walked away, her figure gradually disappearing from view, taking with her the remnants of their shared dreams. 

The following weeks were a blur of legal meetings and painful conversations. Telling the kids was the hardest part. They sat them down together in the living room, explaining as gently as possible that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be living together anymore but that they both loved them very much. 

Their oldest, confused and heartbroken, asked, “Why can’t you stay together? Don’t you love each other?” 

Danneel, tears streaming down her face, replied, “We do love each other, sweetie. But sometimes, adults need to make hard decisions to make sure everyone is okay.” Jensen added, “We’ll still be a family, just a little different. We’ll both always be here for you, no matter what.” 

Jensen threw himself into his work and focused on being present for his children. He moved to a new apartment nearby to stay close to them, making sure to be involved in their daily lives as much as possible. 

Danneel, too, found a new rhythm. She leaned on her friends and family for support, gradually finding her own sense of peace and independence. 

Sometime later.  

Danneel pushed her cart down the aisle of the local grocery store, her mind occupied with the mundane tasks of everyday life. It had been a few months since she and Jensen had decided to divorce, and while the pain still lingered, she was gradually finding a new sense of normalcy. The kids were adjusting, and she was focused on creating a stable, happy environment for them. 

As she turned into the produce section, she noticed a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. Y/N stood near the apples, looking dishevelled and tired. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and her clothes looked like they had been hastily thrown on. She seemed lost in her thoughts, staring blankly at the fruit in front of her. 

Danneel hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and approached Y/N. Whatever animosity she might have felt was overshadowed by genuine concern. As she got closer, Y/N looked up and their eyes met. There was a flicker of recognition, followed by a wary, almost apologetic look. 

"Y/N?" Danneel said softly. Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Danneel... hi." They stood there for a moment in awkward silence before Danneel spoke again. "I didn’t expect to see you here." 

Y/N shrugged, trying to muster a weak smile. "I eh, work on a project nearby." Danneel studied her for a moment, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the defeated slump of her shoulders. “Are you okay? You look... tired.” 

Y/N sighed, her facade crumbling. ”I’m fine, just long nights shooting you know, thanks for asking.” Clearly trying to avoid this conversation. Danneel nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy. “I can imagine... Listen, I know about you and Jensen. About the calls, text, Greece.” 

“You do?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes,” Danneel said gently. “And I want you to know that Jensen and I have separated. We’re getting a divorce.” Y/N looked shocked, her face paling. “I-I-I had no idea.” 

Danneel was taken aback. She had assumed Jensen would have reached out to Y/N, given the intensity of their connection. “He hasn’t contacted you at all?” 

Y/N shook her head, looking more distressed. “No. I thought... I thought maybe he just needed space to figure things out. But I didn’t know about you two. I’m so sorry, Danneel. I never wanted to come between you.” 

Danneel could see the genuine regret and confusion in Y/N’s eyes. It was clear that she had been just as caught up in the whirlwind as Jensen had. “I believe you, Y/N. And for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you. This situation... it’s complicated.” 

Y/N nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I cared about him, Danneel. But I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Danneel sighed, feeling a strange sense of relief and understanding. “Jensen and I had our issues long before you came into the picture. What happened between you two was a symptom, not the cause.” 

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared pain hanging between them. Finally, Danneel spoke again. “I hope you find the clarity and peace you need, Y/N. We all deserve that.” 

Y/N wiped her eyes, nodding. “Thank you, Danneel. I hope the same for you.” 

As Danneel turned to leave, she felt a sense of closure she hadn’t expected. Seeing Y/N like this, vulnerable and remorseful, had helped her let go of some of the anger and hurt she had been carrying. 

--

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[andromedism]

June 2017

“What’re you doing, bro?” 

“I’m twirling!” Charlie yells over the booming bass, a blur of rainbow beads rattling around his neck. They shimmer in the strobe lights, casting specks of refracting light across his army jacket and his upturned face. 

The dance floor parts slightly, a red sea of narrow-faced gays scowling at him as he overtakes their space with his revolution. It’s making Mac dizzy, but he needs to stay sharp. 

“He’s twirling!” Dee confirms. She’s swaying at Mac’s side, a large rainbow flag tied around her neck. One of her gaudy fake lashes is sticking to her eyelid. 

They’re both tipsier than Mac; the stale beer tolerance they’ve built up at Paddy’s is an unworthy match for the dangerously fruity drinks The Rainbow hands out like candy during Pride. Mac’s a pro by now and can knock back watermelon daiquiris with the best of them, but tonight isn’t the night for dicking around. 

He grips Charlie’s shoulder, stopping him. “Take it easy. You don’t wanna pull trig on the dance floor, dude. People’ll get pissed.” 

It’s not that this dance floor hasn’t seen its fair share of vomit—it has. Much of it, Mac’s. It’s just that the hundreds of glittery bodies swaying to the house music are giving him vertigo, and he didn’t really want to come, and Charlie and Dee cannot be left alone together without committing at least one felony. If one of them angers the wrong gay, he’ll have to bust out his jiu-jitsu training, and this isn’t the venue for that. 

Someone needs to reign them in, be the straight man in the gay bar, and it has to be him—there’s no one else, anymore. 

“You’re being such a buzz kill, man! This is your night!” Charlie cries, nodding his head to the beat of the music. He hasn’t stopped moving since Elton John’s tenor broke through the speaker on the first parade float earlier that afternoon. Mac’s always loved how Charlie absorbs the musicality in everything; tapping his feet to the rhythm of the leaky tap in the bar or pulling a piano riff from thin air after sniffing paint. It’s second nature for him. And then there’s Dee.

“Yeah! This is your night!” she parrots. She takes a swig from the penis-shaped cup she’s spilled the contents of on everyone in her orbit since they arrived. Mac has no idea where she got it from. The Rainbow doesn’t supply these. “Hey, this is blue flavored. What fruit is blue? Mac, d’you know?”

Charlie whirls on her, tipping back onto his heels as his legs catch up with his upper body. “Now hold on a minute, Dee. Why are you asking him, huh? Feels homophobic for you to assume he’s the fruit expert, here.”

“I’m not—” she huffs loudly and rolls her eyes in that eerie way that reminds Mac she’s someone’s twin, “—I’m not saying he’s the fruit expert ‘cause he’s gay, dipshit! I just—he’s been working out a lot and eating boring health food. Thought he’d know his fruits.” 

Charlie turns to look at Mac, eyes skidding over his biceps. He doesn’t pay attention to things like this. If Mac showed up at the bar tomorrow with D-cups and ass implants, he wouldn’t bat an eye and doesn’t now. “He hasn’t been working out.” 

“Yeah, he has! My god, do you pay attention to anything?” 

They’ve been doing this a lot: talking about Mac like he isn’t standing right in front of them. His own friends treat him like a dog, hinting they’ll take him for a walk without saying it because they think if he hears the word, he’ll scamper around excitedly until they leash him. Or put him down.

Charlie plants his hands on his hips. “Well who’s to say between the two of us, I’m not the one with the fruit expertise?” 

“Oh, what do you know about fruits, Charlie?” Dee challenges, walking up on him. 

Charlie bounces on his toes as he shouts in Dee’s face. “I know a lot about fruits! I know a lot about fruits! My areas of expertise are bird law, woodworking, and then fruit—”

“Woodworking, what the hell are you talking about!?” Dee shouts back. She’s gesturing so violently that blue liquid is flying everywhere. Mac is strategically dodging drops of it as he steps forward to break them up. 

It’s just then that the song changes and Charlie shoves his hand over Dee’s mouth to silence her. “Shut up! Shut up! Dee, shut up.” 

She pushes him away, spitting wildly. “What the hell is on your hands!? Glue!?”

“I said shut up!” Charlie shrieks. He takes a deep breath and extends his arms, palms outstretched like a prophet. “I have to twirl about this.” Before Madonna can get a word of Express Yourself in edge-wise, he’s spinning again, off into the crowd.

Mac steps forward to follow him, but a sharp, quippy ‘Hey, boner!’ stops him in his tracks. When he turns to look at Dee, she’s staring at him. It’s so unnatural that he can only blink back at her. These past few years, they haven’t paid much attention to each other—only to fight like cats; their dynamic always defined by their gravitational proximity to another man. 

“Are you—are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, duh. What’s up your ass?” She accents her question with a long swig from her dick cup. There’s a familial likeness there that keeps Mac from ever looking her directly in the eye. 

Mac crosses his arms, standing a little straighter. “Nothing. Just trying to keep you two safe.”

She arches an eyebrow at him, dumbfounded. “From who?” 

And yeah, that’s a good question. The threat level in the room is pretty low. Mac knows because he assessed it when they first walked in. 

He shrugs. “I dunno. Anyone could be lurking here. Spies, henchman, a ninja maybe—”

“A ninja?” she interrupts, and there’s skepticism in her tone that makes him nervous. Why can’t she mind her own business? 

“They could be anywhere, Dee. You don’t understand because you’re thinking like a civilian.” He taps his forehead for good measure. 

“You’re a civilian, jerk ass.” She pulls the little umbrella out of her cup and twirls it in between her fingers. “You’re thinkin’ ‘bout your buddy, huh? Yikes!” 

He’s been trying really hard not to think about anything at all; the door in his apartment that’s always closed; the room behind it that’s always empty; the one-way ticket to North Dakota that made it all so.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah y’are.” She shoves the dick cup in his face until he takes a swig. It feels like water going up his nose. 

“Holy shit. What is this, Windex?” He eyes the sloshing blue substance, suspiciously. Maybe it will poison her and she’ll stop asking him so many pointed questions. 

“No, it’s a blue lagoon. I got it from Estevan.” Dee flicks her hand behind her lazily, and Mac follows the direction of her flippant gesture into a crowd of strangers. 

“Who’s Estevan?”

“He’s over th—” She turns to point at an empty space on the far wall. “Oh. I could’ve sworn he was…” She cocks her head back at Mac. “Hey, what d’you think was in those edibles?”

Mac swallows dryly. “I don’t think those were edibles, Dee.” 

There was something kind of wonky about the little pink gummies Frank dropped into each of their palms, hours earlier. ‘You kids stay woke and don’t mix these with poppers or you’ll end up ass up in an airfield,’ he’d said before descending the stairs to a sketchy basement bar with Artemis. He hadn’t meant it in the liberal sense. There’s nothing woke about Frank. If Mac had a dime for every homophobic thing the guy said today, he’d be able to buy everyone in the bar a round. What’s the word for that? Reparations, maybe? 

He looks to his side to ask the person who’s always standing there, the person who always knows the answer. There’s no one.

Dee pokes Mac in the pec with the toothpick end of the umbrella. “Look, I don’t care if you go home and sob into his pillow every night—“

“Estevan’s? I still don’t know who that is.”

Dee furrows her brow. “Est—what? No! Not Estevan’s! You know who! And you can mope about him all you want on your own time! But tonight’s supposed to be fun and you’re shitting on everything!” 

“I am not shitting on everything!” Mac shoots back. He holds up the dick cup, pointedly. “You’re the one collecting souvenirs like a tourist! You should really give that kid her flag back!”

“Finders keepers!” Dee clutches at the ends of the flag and wraps them around her body, possessively, cocooning herself like a big ugly moth. 

“You didn’t find it! You stole it!” She’d ripped it out of a college girl’s hands in line outside and told her to suck a fat chode before parading past the bouncer. If Mac’s retained anything from the Star Wars prequels he’s been marathoning in his now-infinite free time, it’s that not all heroes wear capes, and not all people who wear capes are heroes.

“Oh don’t make this about me!” Dee snaps. “We’re doin’ your thing tonight and you’re not even enjoying it, like an ungrateful asshole!” She gestures broadly to the dance floor, the ends of her pride cape flaring out around her in a blur of color. “Look around you! Everyone’s having a great time but you! If I were you, I’d be dancing my ass off! Not thinkin’ ‘bout my loser roommate.” 

Mac clenches his fists. “He’s not a loser, Dee! He’s a dad!” 

“What’s the difference!?” she yells, stomping her feet like a toddler. 

There’s a huge difference, obviously–and she’s too drunk and dumb to see it. Dads can’t be losers. Take Mac’s for example. He’s a total badass. What, with all of his tattoos, and his secrets, and his criminal record? Bad. Ass. 

Mac shoves the dick cup back into her hands. “Can we stop? Can we stop!? This is stupid! You’re drunk, we’re all high, Frank totally poisoned us which is probably a hate crime, at least in my case! This night has been shitty and I wanna go home! I’d rather be finishing Revenge of the Sith right now and that’s saying a lot. I’m gonna go find Charlie.”

“Whatever! Go do that! But remember, the night wasn’t shitty until you started shitting on it!” As Dee flings her hand out, liquid sloshes from the dick cup and hits Mac’s chest in a cold splatter. 

“Hey!” he cries, grasping at the wet fabric of his tank top. “Oh god damnit, Dee!”

She cups a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I fucked it.”

“Yeah, you fucked it! Get me something to clean this up! Shit!” 

“Fine!” She starts to tromp off, but then stops. Turning on her heels, she walks up into Mac’s space and jabs a sharp finger into his chest. “Stop. Shitting.” 

They scoff at each other before she’s off again, stomping into the crowd. Mac flexes his fingers, fighting off the urge to trip her as her pride cape blurs with the other rainbow apparel. It’s just him, now. Him and a hundred other gay people. That thought alone is enough to unnerve him from his sticky spot on the floor. 

Mac drifts aimlessly through the flock of sweaty bodies, eyes fixed on the blue stain blooming over his heart. Something’s kicking in: the edible, or Dee’s molotov cocktail, or the big horrible feeling he has in crowded rooms now that there’s no one to turn to and say ‘ It’s crowded in here, huh? ’.

The DJ has switched things up, opting for a slow song. People are pairing up to dance a boozy waltz. Bodies slotting together, hands grasping for broad shoulders, and Mac, all alone, covered in glitter and suspiciously blue liquor. 

A couple in matching leathers bumps into him in the scramble, muttering apologies. A server lifts a tray of tequila shots high above their heads as she skirts past him. She’s wearing a tee shirt that says 'Love who you love' in big bold lettering. How? That’s all he’s been asking himself his entire life. How do you love someone the way they need it? How do you cope when they leave? How do you come out without immediately locking yourself in a brand-new box? 

There’s a lull in the crowd finally, a clearing in the musky haze, where he can take a long deep breath. He blots at the stain with clammy fingers to no avail, barely noticing the hands ducking into his line of sight to press a napkin to his shirt. 

“She’s so fucking annoying.” 

Everyone sounds a little like this these days, so he doesn’t react anymore. In coffee shops, and grocery stores, and clubs like this one, Mac hears the familiar pert inflection that used to fill the space between him and the other end of the couch. And every time he turns to look, the face isn’t right. 

“So annoying,” Mac agrees. “You know her?” 

“You might say I know her better than anyone,” the stranger says with a theatrical inflection. He was always so dramatic. 

Mac is still staring at the long, slim fingers fussing with the stain, the manicured nails grazing his bare chest as they hold fast to the fabric, lighting his skin up with goosebumps. He shifts on his feet. “Wow, you that close with her? Dee Reynolds? Bro, that’s—”

“Look at me, asshole.” 

He won’t. 

Because this is the same nightmare he’s been having for months. And it ends badly. It always has. It will never be different. 

“Mac,” the stranger says, softly, in that tone he used to take in their kitchen at midnight, when they’d have tea together after a long day at the bar, when they’d share stories they’ve heard each other tell a million times like secrets. “Look at me.”

To Mac’s great pleasure and horror, he is just as easy to look at as he was the last time they saw each other. The vivid club lighting is cutting through the moving shadows, catching the arc of his cheek, the soft curl of his hair, his prim mouth set in an intent line. 

As dancers and servers pass them by like ships in the night, Mac can feel it: the gossamer thin thread keeping him tethered to reality snapping as those slim hands drop the napkin and press hot to his neck, pulling him forward.

“What are you—” Mac starts, but it’s no use, because Dennis Reynolds, South Philadelphia’s most infamous ghost, is kissing him soft and open-mouthed in the middle of a gay bar. 

And everything is blue like the sky on an autumn day when they were children, and Charlie would push him on the rusty swing set in the park. That fluttering deep in his stomach, as he’d dropped back down to earth, returning to him now like an old friend. Returning to him now, like Dennis. 

And there’s something unnervingly gentle about the pale hand, reaching up to brush a stray hair off Mac’s forehead as they press closer to each other.

And Mac is gripping at the collar of a familiar button-up for dear life, wanting to anchor them both in this moment so that he won’t wake up in a cold sweat, any minute now, legs sticking to his sheets. 

And the planets are all marbles, rolling out of orbit into the black universe, where everything tastes like the lip gloss Dennis left on the counter when he walked out of Mac’s life.

You never text me back, he wants to say. You never call. But he can’t speak, he can only sigh into the mouth of this beautiful, horrible stranger, who is kissing him like it’s the last time they’ll ever see each other. Maybe it is. Fear bubbles up in Mac’s throat at the idea that this is the closest he’ll ever be to Dennis again: hallucinating his likeness in crowded rooms he’ll never be in for all of eternity. 

But when the stranger breaks the kiss, it’s still Dennis; still sharp lines and a rigid brow, pursed lips, and something rare and open in those wide, blue eyes flickering out as the mask is tied back on. 

In all of Mac’s dreams, they don’t get this far. They don’t kiss. He always wakes up before they do it. Which only means one thing:

“This is a nightmare,” Mac whispers. It’s all he can think to say. It’s the only explanation. 

“Yours or mine, buddy?” Dennis says softly. It’s quiet enough that Mac shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he does because he’s watching Dennis’ mouth so intently he could probably draw it later, from memory. His eyes linger there as Dennis turns in the other direction, walking away before Mac can take a breath. 

“Wait!” Mac calls after him, trying to catch up, weaving through the crowd. It’s so like Dennis to power walk out of any compromising situation. Mac should know - he’s seen him do it a million times and not once has he been able to keep up. The guy’s got the stamina of a show pony. The last time he did it, he didn’t come back, and Mac’s reliving it again, for the hundredth night in a row. Remembering everything he didn’t say, or tried to say but it came out wrong. 

“Dennis, wait!” Mac calls again, shoving the server from earlier aside as she walks between them. “Move, bitch!” 

One moment he sees Dennis’ silhouette in the crowd, curls haloed by the overhead lighting, fingers digging into his palms in that way he does when he’s nervous, the arc of his tensed shoulders, shifting through the masses. The next, he’s gone. 

“There you are!” Dee’s hand is on Mac’s shoulder, spinning him around. She and Charlie are staring at him with twin looks of concern. “Where the hell have you been!? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

Everything is ten times louder all of a sudden like someone ripped his headphones out of his ears at the gym.

“I was…” Mac presses his hand to his mouth. His fingers are trembling. “Did you two see him?”

“Who, Estevan?” Dee asks, head cocked inquisitively—yes, like a bird. 

“Estev—no. No.” Mac lifts his hand from his mouth to his forehead, massaging the skin there. It takes everything to move, suddenly. He feels like a bug, suspended in amber. “Guys, I think those edibles were laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, man.” Charlie says, “I just spun so much I wore a hole in the dance floor” 

“It’s true,” Dee says, “I tripped over it and got blue everywhere.” 

“Yeah, it’s everywhere. There’s blue everywhere,” Charlie adds.

Mac’s heart is beating so fast he can feel it in his ears, over the beat of the poppy synth music. Reality has rushed back in, the bar buzzing with energy once again. Maybe it always was. 

“I—I think we should call it a night, guys. I need to get some air. I’m seeing things.”

Dee and Charlie exchange a look. Maybe they’ll take him for a walk after all. “Yeah,” Charlie says, “I think that’s the right move. Not that this hasn’t been so fun!”

“Oh! So fun!” Dee parrots, unconvincingly. 

“But yeah, let’s go.” As Charlie motions toward the door, Dee flashes a bundle of paper towels.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you this for the—” she stops, staring at Mac’s chest. “What the hell? Did you change your shirt?”

“No, why would I…”

He looks down, padding at the spot where there was once a blue stain. Now, nothing. 

They all look at each other, letting the beat of confusion hang between them before deciding at once: “The edibles.” 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Dee says. She flares out her cape dramatically and leads them through the crowd. 

Mac trails behind her, eyes unfocused, the desire to be curled up on the couch watching Anakin burn to death in the lava river greater than he could have ever imagined. ‘I hate you,’ he’d said. ‘I loved you.’ Obi-Wan had replied. It’s where Mac had left off.

A wet napkin gets stuck to the sole of Charlie’s sneaker. He kicks it off and stumbles after them. “So wait, who’s Estevan?”

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[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 13: Cheers

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Including a short blurb, also written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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The day went on pretty quickly after that...

April and Casey helped make plans with Leo and Raph up until around 4PM, when Mikey came running down the halls and pounced on Leonardo from behind, knocking him flat on his face. Donnie came stumbling through a few minutes later, his mask askew and eyes still conveying a need for some more sleep, but generally rested for the most part.

They'd made sure to entertain Mikey as best they could, playing a few games and letting Mikey wrestle with them. And by "them", it was mostly just Raph.

Raphael'd never had trouble when it came to sparring with Mikey before. Sure, the kid was strong and fast, but Raph was always the one to beat him no matter what. Now he actually had to work to hold his own against him. Mikey's play-fighting was chaotic and swift, his movements were a blur and Raph could tell he wasn't holding back on his strength anymore. Or maybe, he'd forgotten how...? In any case, he'd knocked him on his tail more than once and looked up to see him sitting perched on his chest with a great big grin. At least he was having fun.

After dinner -- which had a lot of proteins in it for Mikey of course -- they'd all settled down for a Lou Jitsu movie.

That was very interesting to witness.

They'd nearly forgotten about the issue with his eyesight, and had to find a way to watch the movie with the lights on. They came up with an odd compromise -- by shining a lamp over only Mikey, while the rest of the room was darkened. It worked well enough.

Mikey was confused at first, unsure what the movie was. For a moment, he seemed to think that it was almost like a window, and the people were real. He tried to attack it once. It was then that they realized that Mikey had a fierce disliking of humans now. He'd not gotten around to mentioning that beforehand, which would have been helpful to know before April came over...

Mikey watched the rest of the film with intensity. Slowly but surely, he became invested, and at one scene he heard the very familiar catchphrase.

"Ahh!! AH! AH!!! MMMMNNNGHH, Mmmmmaah! AAGH!" He shrieked, pointing and jumping and screeching with excitement.

"Yes, Mikey!" Leo laughed, his joy overflowing at knowing he remembered something. "Hot soup!"

Mikey bounced ecstatically. Even more so at seeing the enormous smile that his brother bore now. Donnie smirked. Raph's hands stimmed with glee. April chuckled at Mikey's enthusiasm. Splinter laughed happily and pet his head sweetly.

By the time the movie was finished, April had to leave to get back to her studies. But she promised to return when she could after class the next day.

"See ya later, bro-bro," she said with a smile as she knelt down next to Mikey and pat his head.

Mikey chirped in response, smiling at her happily.

The rest of the night was a mix of different things. Donnie peeled off to work on the anti-mutagen, Leo went to talk with Casey about... "things"... and Raph helped Splinter clear the living room of dishes and leftover popcorn.

Mikey took the opportunity to explore the lair some more. He went into every room, stayed for about five minutes to investigate, then went to the next interesting place.

He popped into Dee's lab first. The lab was dark again, but after the movie had ended, Mikey had gotten used to the darkness and his infrared vision had returned. He saw a blorb of heat sitting in a chair, typing away on a desk. The computer screens gave off some heat, but not as much as the consoles and hard drives beneath the desk. There wasn't much else to see. He'd gone up to Donnie and chirped at him, though Donnie hadn't responded beyond head rubs.

He got bored quickly and left the room to go look around. He found Raph and Splinter talking as they washed dishes. The kitchen was brightly lit, and Mikey's vision switched over again. He wandered in circles around the table, listening to their conversation without processing a single word. He just liked hearing their voices. But eventually he got bored of that too, and wandered out, looking around the halls and skate room and training room...

He'd come across Leon and Casey next. The two were talking in private, though Mikey hadn't picked up on that. They were standing just beyond the traincar bedrooms, and Mikey wondered what they were doing so far away. His infrared had come back, causing a minor headache but he muscled through it as he went towards the others. He noticed that the closer he got to them, the further away they went from the lair. Why? Why were they getting farther...

"...all I'm saying is that I get it, I really do," Casey muttered softly.

"You get it? You get looking at your family and not knowing who they are anymore?" Leo argued.

"Yes. That's every day of my life, now..." Casey responded.

"...I hadn't... I didn't realize... I'm sorry, dude, I just... You're right. And I don't mean to be a stranger to you, I'm really trying to be who you want me to be, but I--"

"I don't WANT THAT, Leo! You shouldn't have to change who you are now to fit who you were once to me. You'll never be him..."

There was a pause of painful silence.

"...And you don't have to be."

"But... I need to be, don't I? Not just for you, but for them -- for Raph, and Donnie, and --"

Leo suddenly turned towards Mikey and snapped.

"Mikey! What are you doing here? We're having a private conversation, do you mind --!"

Mikey jerked back nervously, looking between them. He didn't know... he couldn't tell they weren't facing him. He thought they saw him... He didn't mean to...

Leo sighed and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry for yelling. You startled me, that's all. C'mon, let's go hang in your room for a bit, okay?"

Leo turned to Casey.

"We can continue this conversation later."

"I don't think we need to," Casey responded, folding his arms. Mikey could see his expression, but his voice sounded a little bit agitated.

Leo sighed as he took Mikey back into his room to hang out.

"Oh, by the way, I found these," Leo said, once Mikey's eyes had readjusted to the light.

He handed him a pair of nunchucks.

"Snagged em while searching for you at the labs," he explained. "Figured you'd want them back."

Mikey looked down at the wood and chains. Were they a gift? Important? He didn't recognize them at all. He snorted at the weapons, then grabbed them in his mouth, and tossed them away.

Apparently they weren't interesting. Leo made the oddest expression when Mikey discarded his signature chucks, but he masked it pretty quickly, offering to try and entertain the kid until it was time for bed.

The two tried everything, from Mikey experimenting with some of his paints, to Leo reading a few of his comics to him like bedtime stories. Mikey and Leo conversed about a few things, such as who April was, and why she'd come.

Mikey signed to Leo to ask what to call him if "Blue" wasn't his actual name. Leo was extremely patient with him and helped him to memorize the sign for his and his brothers' names. Leo made sure to say the names as he signed them, helping reiterate them in his little brother's mind.

After several minutes, Mikey finally started yawning and pressed himself against Leon's chest. Leo lifted the baby brother up and carried him to his hammock to sleep in. Mikey chirped out a 'goodnight' before succumbing to sweet, sweet sleep.

Leo hummed as he tucked Mikey in, folding the blanket edges under his arms. Leo had to admit, Mikey was one heck of a trooper. He was scared, scarred, and lost in his own mind, but hopeful and cheery as ever, and 100% willing to work on himself to get better. He was already starting to remember things, and he'd come to trusting April pretty quickly despite the animosity he had for humans now... Maybe this wouldn't be so hard. It wouldn't be so bad...

.

.

.

“Mikey, it’s not that bad-!”

"No- no! You don't understand! It was my fault! It's me! It's always been me!" Mikey shouts, grabbing the front of his orange jacket, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pouts.

“I know you burned it twice now but you’re being super dramatic.” Leo rolls his eyes as he dumps a plate into the trash.

Mikey looks up at him and pouts a lot more.

Leo sighs and walks closer, patting Mikey’s head.

“You’ll get it, eventually! Took me a while to stop burning stuff.”

Leo only started making his own food maybe a year or two ago. Maybe closer to a year since Raph panicked about them burning themselves.

He is way more paranoid about Mikey so this practicing is supposed to be secret, but it won’t be if he keeps crying.

Mikey wipes his eyes but still hiccups.

“I-I keep messing up. Making it too hot and leaving it too long….I….I just want to be as good as you….”

Leo pulls him in close.

“You will be! Just gotta practice. Maybe you’ll be a big chef and you can make me all the food I want!”

Mikey sniffles.

“I-I can be?”

“You’re already good at soooo much stuff, why not? My super cool, talented little brother!”

Mikey smiles and giggles, rubbing his face into Leo’s shirt.

Leo smiles too, hugging him closer.

It wasn’t a lie.

He believes it 100%.

Mikey can do anything.

He’ll always be there to cheer him on.

.

.

.

Leo comes back to reality, the memory still vivid in his mind.

He cups Mikey's speckled cheek with a smile.

"I'm still gonna cheer you on, king," he whispers. "No matter what. You've got this..."

Mikey murmurs something in his sleep, and Leo can almost swear it sounds like an actual sentence or phrase. It might have been wishful thinking, the sound was too soft to actually hear. But Leo will go to his grave convinced that he'd heard Mikey mumble in his sleep...

Love you.

Leo smiles and gets ready to take the first sleepover shift.

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