#but i felt so awkward i wore headphones the entire time i was eating

[bebecue]

walking into a nearly empty fast food restaurant knowing im gonna get my order quick and it won't be noisy but then the manager also takes this downtime as an opportunity for perfomance reviews on the table next to me

[dramaticsnakes]

It starts with love and it ends with you

Hello! I wrote this for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange! This is my gift for @doing-my-demibest (I can’t @ him properly for some reason but I’ll send it too). You wanted to get some moxiety (any dynamic), a high school au, or a soulmate au. All of which are things I’ve never written before. Thus, I decided to do all of them ajlkfdjslkg. I really hope you’ll enjoy Benji!

Thank you so much to @anxiously-creating​ @rainbowbutterfrosting​ and @larrymalecsolangelo​ for all reading through the fic at different times and help me fix it up! I took the title from Meteor Shower by Cavetown because I honestly wasn’t entirely sure what to call it akfldsklghl. 

Pairing: Ambiguous Moxiety (Could be considered queerplatonic)

Word count: 6757

TW: Cursing, and references to feeling unwanted. I think that’s it though. Please tell me if I missed anything.

Summary: Virgil never wanted a soulmate. The concept was frightening to him. That however, did not stop Patton Morales from showing up in his life.

Virgil Capule didn’t like the idea of soulmates.

He had tried to like the idea once. Tried to imagine being with someone who cared for him unconditionally. He tried to imagine someone touching him, a colorful mark appearing on his skin. A mark that proved that this was someone he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. And there was nothing that could be done about it.

Shit, there was nothing he could do about it.

It was a definite factor in Virgil’s life, however, it was a factor that was entirely out of his control. Virgil didn’t like it when things were out of his control. It filled him with a lingering sort of dread, that made his heart beat faster in an unpleasant way.

It was absolutely terrifying to him, that one day, he might encounter someone, who he would essentially be forced to spend the rest of his life with in one way or another. Who’d be forced to spend the rest of their life with him? 

Virgil didn’t like being touched anyway. It made him feel uneasy. He wasn’t sure what his excuse was for that anymore. He didn’t really need one, but often he felt as if he did. As if he needed a reason to take a step back whenever someone got a little too close.

The soulmate one was alright for now, and that was probably part of it. There was no reason to touch any stranger he came by, even for a brief moment, because it would change his entire day, his entire life, if a mark appeared. 

And Virgil couldn’t imagine a single time in his life, where he’d be mentally prepared for that. 

So when he could avoid it, he did so, and when he couldn’t he always inhaled sharply, never quite daring to look down at his hand or any other spot that might’ve grazed someone else's skin on accident. It helped to wear hoodies, he’d learned, which was great, because he never wore anything else anyway.

Virgil lived his life as an irrelevant sophomore, sitting in the corner by himself, because he was never quite sure how to get the hang of talking to anyone. Miraculously, he had managed to befriend two seniors, Janus and Remus, who he hung out with during the lunch breaks. They had essentially ‘adopted’ him one day, and Virgil had initially thought it was a joke or a prank of sorts when they asked if he wanted to eat with them. He’d become more and more doubtful of that over time, however. Both of them were quite unique individuals, and neither of them seemed to have too many friends in their respective classes, but they always had each other. And Virgil too, because they didn’t mind his presence, and Virgil often found that he enjoyed theirs too. The fact that they were seniors however, could of course prove to be a problem later on, because it meant that he would be pretty much friend-less once they left.

But it was okay, he told himself. It was all going to be okay. 

Virgil was content with being like that. Well, content was a big word. Virgil never thought he could consider himself content per se. He was always a little on guard. A little too reserved and defensive. But Virgil was okay. Concerned out of his mind of course. Terrified of being alone.

That was of course before Patton Morales came into his life.

Virgil didn’t remember exactly what day of the week it was, because honestly, who kept track of that? And it wasn’t as if it mattered to him at first anyhow. 

He’d showed up one day, while Virgil was in his English class, clearly a new student, and Virgil hadn’t thought much of it. He’d been listening to music on his headphones, and was too caught up in the lyrics of a My Chemical Romance song to notice that someone was about to sit down right next to him, for whichever reason.

Virgil had glanced up, and moved a bit to the side to avoid getting in the way. The second Virgil had removed his headphones to get ready for the lesson, Patton had turned to him almost immediately with a big smile on his face. There was some awkwardness visible in it too of course, as most first encounters had. “Hi!” he said. 

Already then, Virgil was quite surprised, because he couldn’t quite remember a time where someone had greeted him like that recently. Virgil muttered, “Hi…”

“What’s your name?” Patton asked.

“Virgil.” he replied, “Uh, you?”

“Patton.” he said, and reached out with his hand to greet Virgil. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he tapped the table with his fingers. 

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he said, his heart beating as he awaited either a question or a strange resigned expression.

Patton merely made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, and placed his hand on the table again. He smiled. “Same to you!” 

And that was all their encounter really encompassed at first. Class started, and Virgil did his best to pay attention to the teacher. He succeeded more than he did in most classes. He quite liked English class, and he remembered getting quite a few positive comments on his work in it when he was younger. He’d never say too much about that out loud of course. He used to read quite a lot, and he always liked some of the classics, as well as poetry. That was a bit dorky though, and he wasn’t sure if anyone would really care about that. In high school, no one really seemed to receive that many compliments on schoolwork, at least Virgil didn’t. Though he did his best anyway. Something had to keep his grade up after all.

Virgil’s second conversation with Patton had been in that same class the next day. They were all asked to individually analyze a poem, and Patton was tapping his pen against the paper, chewing on his lip.

“Uh, you could comment on the semantics.” Virgil muttered awkwardly, which made Patton turn his head. “There are some words related to storms. It contrasts the ones about light and safety later on.”

“Oh!” Patton said, looking at the poem again, “I see. And lightning sort of uh… Ties the two together?”

“Yeah.” Virgil said with a nod and a hesitant smile. He turned to his own work once again, and Patton started to write. 

The lesson continued, and once it was done, Virgil stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “I like your hair!” Patton said and Virgil looked up suddenly. He hadn’t quite expected the comment. “The purple suits you well.”

“Uh, thanks!” Virgil said, giving a friendly nod. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself for a few moments, before he hurried along to get out of the class. He quickly realized that that might’ve appeared rude, but he hadn’t been sure how else to react. 

He thought about that quite a lot the time that followed, because Virgil didn’t like messing up. It made him think too much, and it made him groan at himself. He’d messed up his encounter, and now Patton was going to hate him forever.

Of course, Virgil knew that wasn’t objectively true, but his mind was pretty damn convinced and wouldn’t shut up about it at all. 

A single class later, Virgil was sitting at his usual lunch table next to a grinning Remus and a Janus who was well into a rant about either society or his philosophy class. Virgil realized he hadn’t quite listened too much at first, his thoughts drifting to all sorts of places.

“And then that bitch had the audacity to suggest that lying was inherently a bad thing! Of course I brought up numerous examples of philosophers who said otherwise, but it turns out that this guy has his own collection of philosophical terms.” Janus spat, “You know, while he has some annoying views, he does seem… Reasonably knowledgeable about it all. Even if he forgot the names of all the philosophers he was talking about.”

“Awh, what’s wrong JanJan? You scared you’re not gonna be the favorite student anymore.” Remus teased.

“I am not the favorite student!” Janus said, “I am the most dreaded student, and excuse me if I’m a little annoyed that this unintimidating ray of sunshine Patton Morales is trying to draw attention away from how much I should be dreaded.” he smirked slightly, “Not that I mind a small challenge for once.”

Virgil looked up suddenly, his mouth gaping slightly. “Did you say Patton Morales?”

Janus laughed in the honey-coated way he sometimes did. “Well look who is awake all of a sudden.” he smiled, “Indeed I did. It’s a new student in my philosophy class.” he leaned forward slightly, “And where do you know him, Stormcloud?”

“We share an english class.” Virgil just said, “He sat next to me the last two times. I don’t know much about him.”

Janus nodded. “I see, I see…” there was a slight sparkling in Janus’ eyes, as if Janus knew something Virgil didn’t. Janus always had a tendency to look like that though, so Virgil didn’t bother questioning it too much. “Has he attempted to strike up a conversation with you?”

“I mean… I mean maybe?” Virgil said.

“Ooh you should start flirting with him, emo! I bet he thinks you’re real hot.” Remus exclaimed.

Virgil rolled his eyes, placing a hand firmly on the table. “Cause flirting with some guy I’ve barely talked to because he may or may not have tried to start a conversation with me to be polite is a great idea.” he said sarcastically, in a way that he was sure Janus gave him a small grin for.

“Well, he seems quite cheerful.” Janus said, licking his bottom lip thoughtfully as he crossed his arms, “He seems like he attempts to get along with most people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d try his luck with you.”

“Huh.” Virgil said, “He’ll probably give up on that soon enough.”

Patton did, as a matter of fact, not give up. 

The next day, Virgil didn’t even have a class with Patton, but somehow he managed to enter his day anyway.

Virgil noticed him down the hall, talking to someone from a different class. One of the theater kids, though Virgil couldn’t quite remember his name. Virgil walked by, looking down as he had grown so used to. Patton turned his head. “Hi Virgil!” he said, with the same sort of joy he had the other day.

There was something interesting about that joy. Something honest and genuine, that Virgil wasn’t used to from obligatory greetings, though maybe he was just reading too much into it.

“Uh, hey Patton.” he said with a quick and awkward salute. He stopped walking though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Was the logical next step to keep walking or to stand still? It was too late now to re-evaluate his choice with any purpose.

“Thanks for the help with English yesterday. It’s not really my strongest subject.” Patton said with a laugh.

Virgil bit lip, mustered a little smile that appeared to come with a little less difficulty than he expected and looked at Patton. “Oh, no or well… I think you were kinda good at it actually.”

“Oh.” Patton said, looking a bit surprised. “Thank you!”

“Uh, yeah you’re… You’re good. Sometimes it's just the wording of the tasks.” he rubbed the side of his neck with his hand.

Patton chuckled, and Virgil realized that he quite liked the sound of that, but he wasn’t sure if that was a weird thought to have. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with us?” he prompted. He gestured to the boy next to him. “Roman and I were going to go do that.”

Virgil was very surprised at that request. His first thought was his unspoken agreement to eat lunch with Remus and Janus, but he’d missed that before a few times, if he was working on assignments. “Oh. Sure!” he said.

That was new. People didn’t usually ask him to hang out with them.

“Yay!” Patton said, “Let’s go.”

The other boy, Roman turned to him, and tilted his head curiously to the side. “Hold on a minute… Aren’t you that boy who usually eats lunch with Remus?”

Virgil’s posture became more cautious. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

“Nothing. He’s just my brother is all.” he chuckled, “Has he given you a headache yet?”

“Oh, multiple.” Virgil said, chuckling back, “But in the good sort of way I guess. He’s fun.”

Roman hummed, “He talks about you sometimes.”

The three found a little secluded spot near the library, where they ate lunch and talked. It was strange. Virgil wasn’t used to being around anyone else during the lunch break, but it wasn’t that bad at all. He kept an eye on Patton.

It was that day, Virgil noted that Patton liked puns, and made a lot of them. They were stupid of course, but Virgil liked them. They were terrible and stupid in the funny sort of way. 

After lunch, Virgil was added to a group chat with Patton Morales, Roman and someone Virgil hadn’t talked to before, named Logan.

Patton had made friends quickly. After a few days at the school, he’d already made two. Or… Three perhaps? Did Virgil count as a friend? Not yet, probably.

For a moment though, the thought passed through Virgil’s mind, that maybe he kind of wanted to be. 

The next day in english class, they were even more familiar with one another. They laughed and talked a bit right before class started, and Virgil didn’t hesitate to help Patton when he once again struggled with his work. Virgil had a hard time withholding a laugh when Patton doodled a little alligator in a vest in the corner of his sheet, and wrote the word in-vest-igator right above it.

Virgil was filled with an instinctual dread when the teacher brought up a group project. Virgil knew how this went. People would turn to one another and make groups, and he would be forced to be in a group with people who didn’t want him there. He wasn’t the type of person who took charge, but maybe he would end up doing all the work anyhow. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. His heart beat faster.

“Wanna work together?” Patton asked gently, turning towards Virgil.

“Huh?” he said, he shook the surprise off him, “Oh yeah, that’d be cool I guess.”

His body became less tense, and Patton smiled at him.

It made sense of course, because Patton was new, so Patton hadn’t had the time to make any friends in the class. Turning to Virgil was the only natural option. 

The two of them worked on the project throughout the class, and Patton did his best throughout. It didn’t take that much explaining and reading before Patton understood the concepts they had to analyze in the story they’d received, and it was the first time in a while Virgil felt like the work was evenly distributed. It was the first time in a while Virgil felt like he was wanted and useful at the same time.

They didn’t finish the project in the class, which meant homework, which meant stress, which was unfortunate. 

“Do you think it’d be easier to finish if we were together? We could do it after school tomorrow maybe?” Patton asked.

Virgil nodded. “Oh yeah. I can do that!”

Virgil didn’t usually like the idea of staying after school. It was a tiring place to be, and frankly it stressed him out a bit to be there more than absolutely necessary. But he needed to get the group project done, and for some reason it didn’t feel quite as dull if Patton was there. 

It was strange how easily they clicked.

Before Virgil knew it they were staying after school to complete the work, and it took them a while to finish it, but not because it was difficult or tiring to do. 

In fact, Virgil found that the secluded spot they’d found at the school was quite pleasant. They laughed and talked in between each bit of the assignment. Somehow the assignment turned into them talking about which species of duck would be the better baker, and Virgil felt a nice feeling inside. He was having fun, and so was Patton. 

Patton seemed to glow, Virgil noticed. A nice and warm glow, that kept Virgil staring for a little.

Virgil went home later than he was used to that day, but he wasn’t quite as exhausted as he expected to be.

Patton became an increasingly bigger part of Virgil’s life, and Virgil wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of it at first.

Patton was… Nice. It became clear as day even if you only had the chance to spend a short amount of time with him. He always seemed to look out for other’s needs and boundaries, and Virgil really appreciated that. He felt less and less guilty about taking a step back when he needed to, the more time they spent together. 

Patton always smiled, and Virgil liked his smiles he decided. Except on some days, when they seemed a little less real. A little less genuine. On those days, Virgil had an urge to ask what was going on, but he never quite had the courage to do so.

Patton was smart too, even if he didn’t always seem to think so himself. He knew a lot about a lot of things, and gave Janus a headache in philosophy class, which was really funny to hear about. 

One day, Virgil got a text he hadn’t expected to get at all. It was a simple text. A request that Virgil should possibly have expected.

Do you wanna hang out this weekend? <3 It’s okay if you don’t, no pressure!

Virgil stared at the text for a few moments, all sorts of thoughts darting through his head and tangling themselves up in each other, and Virgil couldn’t quite get a grip on why Patton would ask him that.

Because he wanted to hang out with Virgil, was the logical response of course.

So why did his mind insist on giving him a million other ideas why? 

What if Patton wanted to hang out with him out of pity? Because Virgil was all alone.

What if Patton planned on playing a prank on Virgil or something? Because Virgil was a loser and a loner and an easy target.

What if Patton wanted to murder him?

Okay maybe that last one was a bit too aggressive.

Virgil took a deep breath, trying to collect as much logic as his mind allowed him to gather, and replied. He had to delete the final piece of punctuation a couple of times, as he didn’t want it to be interpreted in the wrong way. Not too desperate, but not too bored either.

Sure thing!

And so they did.

Virgil was welcomed into Patton’s home with open arms, Patton’s mums greeting him with kind words and smiles.

Most of the visit was spent in Patton’s room, which was somehow everything Virgil expected it to be, yet not quite.

The room wasn’t too big. The bed took up a fourth of the room. The bed was a nice and calming blue color, which Virgil for some reason already associated with Patton. A nice and peaceful color, that felt welcoming, and the perfect combination of cold and warm. 

The walls were plastered with posters and pictures, some looking slightly torn. Most of them depicted cute puppies or other animals that suited Patton quite well. Virgil’s favorite was that of a tapir, that hung in the top right corner. There was something kindhearted about it.

There was some old wallpaper, hanging on the walls. The edges were a bit tainted, and there were a few cat paw prints on it.

“Do you like cats?” Virgil had asked.

“Oh yeah! I love them!” Patton exclaimed excitedly, “I’m allergic though.” he added. Virgil snorted at it.

They sat on Patton’s bed for hours. They started out by watching a movie on the old tv, that Virgil suspected used to be in the living room of the house. They watched a couple of episodes of Avatar the last airbender too, which Patton fortunately had on dvd. Virgil hadn’t watched it before, and Patton, while looking nervous about it at first, thought that was a crime. 

Virgil enjoyed sitting next to Patton as they watched, because Patton’s reactions to everything happening were always quite clear and emotional, and Virgil couldn’t help but join in on the vivid expressions at times. 

Virgil stayed there until the evening, and their conversation had become more and more serious throughout the night. Virgil couldn’t remember the last time he had a conversation like that with someone. A genuine one.

“What was your old school like?” Virgil had asked. He wasn’t sure why Patton didn’t attend it anymore, because as far as Virgil knew, he lived a bit closer to that. Virgil didn’t think prying was needed though. Virgil understood keeping things to oneself.

“I wasn’t really… I wasn’t really happy at my old school.” Patton confessed. He didn’t look at Virgil as he spoke, “I felt sort of out of place.”

“How?” Virgil asked, hoping that came out the way he wanted it to. 

“People… Didn’t really like me much…” Patton said quietly, “They talked behind people’s backs a lot, and sometimes you overheard what they were saying it wasn’t…” he clenched his fist, looking down, “It wasn’t very nice.”

For the first time in a while, Virgil sort of wanted to reach out for Patton, to place a comforting arm on his shoulder or something like that. Of course, a much more apparent instinct kept him from doing that, keeping his potentially treacherous arms at bay with a million uncomfortable what-ifs. “They were missing out.” was all Virgil said.  ‘

Patton smiled a little at that. “Thanks kiddo.”

Despite himself Virgil couldn’t keep a sudden laugh away. “What the hell did you just call me.” he placed his hand in front of his mouth, “Sorry that sounded rude, it wasn’t bad or anything.”

Patton chuckled back. “I don’t know, it seemed fitting I suppose.”

Patton was about to gently punch Virgil, but Virgil instinctively pulled away. Patton looked surprised for about a millisecond before his smile was back to normal again. 

“It’s nothing personal.” Virgil said suddenly, “That I don’t like being touched that is.”

“Oh, no I figured.” Patton said, smiling, “There’s nothing wrong with not liking that.”

Virgil’s mouth gaped slightly at those words. Virgil knew that of course, that nothing was wrong with it, but it felt different to hear someone say that. “Thank you.” he said, a little quieter than he would’ve liked to. “Maybe… Maybe I’m just scared of finding a soulmate. Or maybe it’s something else, I don’t know.”

“You don’t need an excuse or anything.” Patton said, tilting his head and giving Virgil a certain caring and attentive look, that only Patton seemed to be able to give. He took a deep breath. “Why are you scared of finding a soulmate?” he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know.” Virgil said, “I don’t want… I don’t like big changes I guess.”

Patton nodded, “I get that, I think. Not wanting things to change.” he looked distant for a moment, and then he looked into Virgil’s eyes, “But I think if you found a soulmate it would be different. A soulmate would understand you, and if you didn’t want any changes I am sure they’d understand that too.” 

Virgil took a deep breath nodding, looking down at the floor for a moment, “I… I just don’t know… I don’t want to want things to change, but what if I do? What if things are never the same again.”

Patton chuckled slightly at that, but it was the sympathetic kind of chuckle, that didn’t make Virgil feel singled out or uncomfortable. “Well darn, I don’t know.” Patton said, “I don’t know that much, but I think a soulmate feels simpler than that. I hope so anyway.”

“Have you found a soulmate?” Virgil hesitantly asked, but he wasn’t sure why.

Patton shook his head. “No.”

“Huh.” Virgil said. he wasn’t sure what he expected, but Patton liked to hug people and give them encouraging little Patton pats, so it seemed sort of strange to Virgil that no mark had appeared. “Guess we’re both free for the time being.”

Patton giggled. “You’re the first one who has ever described me not having a mark yet that way. Usually people just look like they feel bad.”

Virgil exhaled suddenly at that. “Oh fuck, I know that feeling.”

“Language.” Patton said, jokingly.

Virgil rolled his eyes, though the smile didn’t leave his face.

Virgil went home that night feeling… Something. He wasn’t sure what, but it was pleasant. Understood maybe. he felt understood. 

Soon, Patton and Virgil were hanging out frequently. It was the first time Virgil had ever allowed this much free time to be taken up by someone else. 

“He cares about you.” Janus said one day at lunch. Virgil still hung out with Janus and Remus at lunch every once in a while. His other group didn’t always meet up, and he didn’t wanna lose Janus and Remus, even if they insisted it was alright. “He thinks about you a lot.”

“How do you know that?” Virgil asked confusedly.

“He wouldn’t make this much time for you if he didn’t.” Janus said, calmly. “And he matters to you too, I can tell.” he smirked. “I haven’t seen you this happy before.”

Virgil realized that he was blushing. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with him.” he said, despite himself, “I mean it’s stupid anyway.”

“Is it romantic or platonic I wonder?” Janus said, as if he was talking to himself.

Virgil had asked himself that question many times, and he wasn’t sure what the answer was. Patton was amazing, but Virgil wasn’t sure if it was in the romantic sort of way. “I don’t know.” he said quickly, quietly.

Janus hummed. “Perhaps it doesn’t really matter. Either can be equally meaningful.”

“Yeah…” Virgil said, biting the inside of his cheek, “Yeah I guess you’re right.” 

Virgil wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret any of this. Maybe he was desperate for a friend, maybe something else was at play, but regardless he found himself enjoying Patton’s friendship more and more. It made him happy to think about Patton, and whenever Patton messaged him, he couldn’t help but drop everything he was doing to see what Patton was saying to him.

It kept going. The two of them kept talking, kept hanging out on weekends, stayed at school for longer than they needed to, and that was definitely new. Virgil didn’t usually do that. It stayed like that for months, them talking as if nothing else mattered.

One day though, a particular event that Virgil would never forget snuck into their day. The two of them were standing right outside school grounds, and Patton had asked Virgil if he could show him something. 

Patton looked at Virgil with a somewhat excited and somewhat nervous expression. “I uhm… I made you something!” he said, his typical bubbly energy shining through.

Virgil felt something inside him twirling. “Really? What is it?”

Patton reached into his schoolbag, taking out something that was wrapped in pastel purple paper. Virgil wasn’t sure what to expect. Patton carefully reached out and let Virgil take the object himself (to make sure there was no unwanted physical contact involved, Virgil noted)  and Virgil accepted the object accordingly. He removed the paper carefully, revealing a little bracelet. 

The bracelet was obviously homemade with purple and light blue string wrapped around one another as the thread, and a stormcloud bead attached to one side of it, and the rest having various other beads, in different shapes but very similar colors. Virgil turned it around in his hand for a little to get a proper look at it, his mouth gaping as he did so. It looked nice. Personal. “What-”

“It’s a uhm… It’s a friendship bracelet!” Patton said, taking out a similar bracelet from his bag. The thread was the same combination of blue and purple as Virgil’s though the bead was a heart, and the rest of the beads similar shades of light blue. It was quite nice to the touch. 

And what the bracelets meant made Virgil feel nice and happy inside in a way he didn’t quite remember feeling before. Except when he was around Patton, he realized. Nice, happy, content, and with Patton being an almost constant thought in his mind. 

What did that mean?

“This is so co- I mean I… I like it or… Or whatever. It’s cool.” he tried his best not to sound like a fool as he spoke, but Patton looked incredibly happy even at the hesitantly positive words. 

Virgil looked from Patton’s bracelet to his own. It was too small to slip on, so he started fiddling with the clasp. “Uhm…” Shit shit, he was already messing this up.

“Oh! Here let me help.” Patton took a step closer and hesitated before he touched the bracelet. “If you don’t mind of course.”

Virgil inhaled sharply. He shook his head. “No no, no problem.”

Virgil could’ve ended up regretting that decision. Patton took the bracelet, carefully opening it, and almost absentmindedly he was about to gently put it around Virgil’s wrist. 

He did it carefully, to avoid touching Virgil, and that was nice and considerate of him, but for a brief moment, Virgil almost wanted Patton to touch him anyway. Patton’s breath felt warm, as he was nice and close, and Virgil felt something fluttering inside him. He stood there for a moment, looking into Patton’s eyes to make sure it was okay.

And then Virgil did something he didn’t remember ever doing on his own accord before.

He pulled Patton into an embrace.

It was quick and sudden, desperate perhaps. Like lightning searching for a place to strike. A comforting and familiar place. His hand grazed the side of Patton’s arm, as he pulled him closer. 

Virgil felt warm and safe, but some sort of adrenaline was still pumping through him. He quickly pulled back. “Sorry, I…” he looked at his hands.

And his world was suddenly shattered into a million shiny and colorful pieces.

The part of his hand that had grazed Patton’s arm had become a beautiful and familiar light blue and Virgil froze on the spot. 

It didn’t take long for Patton to catch on too. In a millisecond, his expression had turned from unfiltered happiness to something cautious. Shocked. His mouth was gaping.

Virgil started breathing faster, but he wasn’t running, as he expected he would whenever this happened.

Virgil glanced at Patton’s arm, noticing a purple mark, matching Virgil’s own. Virgil studied both the marks carefully, taking in the shape.

Forever.

Virgil’s heart was beating rapidly, and he made eye contact with Patton.

“I…” Patton tried, still looking unsure what to say, “It’s… It’s gonna be okay.”

Virgil’s mind was racing. Going through a million what-if scenarios each second, way too quickly for him to fully experience anything. Scenes were flashing before his eyes. Him and Patton together. Sweet sunshine Patton, asking with an awkward and sad look in his eyes, if Virgil would just leave and never seek out Patton again. Virgil running and never returning on his own accord, leaving Patton alone and sad and confused.

Him and Patton together, holding hands and laughing. Joking around just as they had before.

Virgil’s breathing had become loud and fast, and Patton was standing a bit away, hesitant to step closer, as he always had. 

Virgil didn’t know what he wanted.

Virgil never knew anything.

“V-Virgil I…” Patton tried, swallowing something, “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t wanna. Things don’t have to change if you don’t want them to.”

What did Patton even think of this? Why was Patton’s first instinct always to calm Virgil down? Why couldn’t Patton just express a desire, so that Virgil could react to that? Virgil didn’t wanna decide anything. Didn’t wanna say anything. Didn’t wanna do anything. He was frozen in place. Half of him was seeking out the warmth of the hug he’d initiated just a minute prior, longing to get close once again and hugging Patton tighter than ever before. 

The other half wanted to run. Run away as fast as possible and avoid facing the inevitable.

Inevitable was such a dreadful word.

Virgil looked at Patton, who had such sympathetic and beautiful brown eyes. Virgil felt something fluttering inside him.

He didn’t want to lose Patton.

And maybe it was a good sign, that something inevitable was something Virgil didn’t want to lose.

Virgil didn’t like fate. He never did. He hated that something was beyond his control. 

Yet, Virgil’s relationship with Patton hadn’t been entirely out of his control, had it?

Virgil kept staring at Patton, because he couldn’t get his body to do anything else.

“You’re my soulmate.” Virgil suddenly said, his voice quiet and somewhat choked, as if the words that came out were forced and not quite his own, “We’re soulmates.”

Patton looked a little relieved to hear Virgil saying something, though the clear concern on his face didn’t disappear. “We are,” he said, shakily. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Virgil exhaled, in something that resembled a chuckle or a sob. “Why the fuck are you sorry?”

Patton looked a little caught off guard. “I… I don’t know.”

Virgil’s heart was still beating at a rapid pace, and he couldn’t quite place why. 

Run. Run. Patton. Patton. Run. Patton. 

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his breathing, but he couldn’t quite get a grip on it. He shook his head, and jumped forward.

He wrapped his arms around Patton, because Patton felt like the only link between Virgil and breathing in a stable way. Patton felt familiar. Patton felt like home. Like love. It was comforting, when Virgil was in an embrace like that, and it only took a few moments of shock before Patton reciprocated. 

They didn’t say anything for a while, simply holding each other tightly, as if it was the only way to keep the world at bay. The only way to keep the terrifying what-if scenarios and the fears Virgil had spent his entire life building up, at bay. 

Patton rubbed circles on Virgil’s back, and Virgil allowed himself to melt into the embrace. Virgil’s heart didn’t quite calm down, but his breathing did. 

Virgil was the one who ended the embrace once again, pulling back to look at Patton’s face. Reality settling in. Patton was looking at him, his cheeks having gained a warmer glow. “Are you… Are you okay?”

Virgil’s breath was shaky. “I don’t… I don’t know.” he said, “I’m fucking terrified.”

“It’s… It’s some news for sure, huh.” Patton said, “We’re… We’re soulmates!”

“We are.” Virgil said quietly, “That’s… That’s new.”

“Things don’t… Things don’t have to change, you know.” Patton said, “We’re soulmates, but we’re around each other anyway.”

Virgil chuckled dryly. “I don’t know what I want.” he said.

“That’s okay!” Patton said, looking at the top of Virgil’s head, “We can figure it out. It’s gonna be okay. Can I… May I touch your hair.”

Virgil burst out laughing. “What?”

Patton blushed. “I’m sorry, that came out weird, it's just… It looks really nice and I always wanted to know what it felt like, and…”

Virgil couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on him. “Sure.” he said.

Patton gave a relieved sigh, and reached out to ruffle Virgil’s hair. His eyes lit up. “It’s so soft!” he said, “It’s even nicer than I expected.”

Virgil snorted, feeling something resembling a blush on his face, which was strange and out of character of him, in his opinion. “Thanks.” he mumbled quickly. 

“I’m… I’m surprised, but also not surprised? That you’re my soulmate.” Patton said quietly, as if he was talking to himself. 

Virgil breathed, “What… What do you mean?”

Patton giggled breathlessly. Awkwardly. “It’s… I don’t know. I just, really love spending time with you. You make everything feel so much more vivid and interesting. I love your little jokes and your smile… I don’t know how to explain it. It just… It feels like there’s a connection.”

Virgil didn’t really know what to say to that. 

Because Patton enjoyed spending time with him and that seemed so strange and far-fetched that he always had to reevaluate the thought in his head a hundred times over and over, whenever it dared to sneak by. It filled Virgil with a bunch of strange and happy feelings, and he wasn’t sure what to do with any of them. Virgil liked Patton. Virgil cared about Patton. Virgil wouldn’t mind spending every single day with Patton, and that thought terrified him, because that was dangerously close to having a meaningful connection.

And they were soulmates, so maybe there was no backing out of the emotional vulnerability, Virgil had somehow digged himself into. 

“I like you too, Pat…” Virgil said, his voice sounding slightly choked and strange, because all the words seemed to hesitate to come out. “You… You suck way less than most people.”

 Patton smiled and laughed. That nice laugh he had, that made Virgil feel at home, because Virgil had gotten attached. “Don’t be so harsh on people, Virge. They surprise you sometimes. You can’t say they’re inherently bad.”

Virgil huffed, and smiled back hesitantly. “Don’t get all philosophical on me Pat.”

Patton looked at his arm once again, at the little mark Virgil had left, because they were soulmates. And Patton smiled. “I’m happy it was you.” he said somewhat quietly, as if he was afraid the words would be counterproductive.

Virgil glanced at the palm of his hand. It was surreal to look at the blue color on there, because it was so small, but it meant so much. It was supposed to mean so much.

And Virgil didn’t know what he wanted it to mean.

Patton knew that. Patton understood that. That was more than Virgil ever thought he’d get, and it made him feel… Content. 

Well, content was a strong word, but he almost felt as if it applied. At least for a few fleeting moments, and perhaps it would for many more.

“I’m… I’m glad it was you too.” he whispered, a little surprised at his own words.

Patton looked Virgil in the eyes, looking for a sign of something perhaps. A way to interpret Virgil’s words.

Virgil took a deep breath. “Do you want anything to change?” he asked, “It’s alright if you do. I wanna know what you want.” he closed his eyes and swallowed, “Please.”

Patton hesitated. He bit his lip. “I… I’m not sure if I know either, honestly.” he said, crossing his arms slightly, rubbing the side of one with his other, “I just wanna be with you I guess. Somehow. I don’t think I need anything sudden, I just wanna be around you. See how it goes, and let things change if they do.”

Virgil exhaled, something that resembled relief. “Yeah.” he said, letting an awkward smile appear on his face, “Yeah that sounds nice.”

Virgil didn’t like change. He hated when things were inevitable, and he couldn’t stand things being out of his control.

But he liked Patton. He loved when Patton smiled and laughed, and he enjoyed how Patton listened and respected Virgil’s thoughts and boundaries. He loved being there for Patton when he needed it, and he loved how it never felt like an exchange, but rather just giving. Both of them giving, because they wanted to give.

And Virgil was still scared. Terrified. But he found that maybe he could take it, as long as Patton stayed by his side.

No, Virgil didn’t like the idea of soulmates.

But Virgil wanted Patton. He wanted Patton to be a part of his life, and maybe, it seemed, Patton wanted to be a part of his too.

[autumnsart22]

Oikawa x reader ch. 13

Sorry for the late update, but it’s still Sunday so I’m good lol. Hope you enjoy!

As I wandered out of the club, I ignored all of the drunken yells and shouts calling me back to the dancefloor. I kept my eyes forward, barely even able to see straight as I walked with single minded determination towards the exit. I needed to get out of this club. 

Right as I reached the door, the dark haired girl from before appeared right in front of me, a sultry look on her face. 

“Hey, you’re leaving already?” She wrapped her arms around me, and it took all the strength in my body to not shove her as hard as I could. 

Go back to that dumb bitch you were with before if you want to feel better about yourself!

I clenched my jaw, but effortlessly pulled her hands from around my neck, walking away without a word. 

When I finally got to my car I sat in numb silence, unable to make myself move. I couldn’t stop seeing the shocked and hurt expression on Y/n’s face right before she walked away from me, telling me she wanted me out of her life forever. I hadn’t meant what I said, not even a little bit. I wanted to tell her that, to chase after her and call her a million times until I got the chance to explain.

I pulled out my phone, dialing her number before I could think, but it went straight to voicemail. 

“Hi, this is Y/n! Sorry I can’t answer the phone right now, but I’ll call you back as soon as I can…” 

My chest ached. Taking a few deep, heaving breaths, I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to relax. It would be fine; I would just call her again tomorrow and explain. Everything would go back to normal. 

There was a loud tapping on my window, and I jolted. Iwaizumi stood outside, gesturing for me to open the door. 

“Get into the passenger seat, Shittykawa,” Iwa snapped, and I decided not to argue, silently moving to the other end of the car. Iwaizumi took my place on the drivers side, starting the car and putting it into reverse. 

We drove in silence for a long while, neither of us sure of what to say. 

I was the one who ended up speaking first. “She’s never going to forgive me, Iwa.” 

My best friend shot a glare at me, looking annoyed. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“You don’t understand. The things I said…” 

“Oikawa, neither of you handled the situation well at all, ok? That doesn't mean you won’t forgive each other.”

“What do I do?”

He sighed, leaning back. “I have no idea. That’s up to you to decide. For right now, I’d give it a little bit of time for you both to get some space, and then figure out a way to show that you’re sorry.” 

Space? Time? I didn’t want either of those things. But I knew that Iwaizumi was right in that regard. Both of us needed to cool off, even though I didn’t want to admit it. 

Iwaizumi pulled up in front of my house, face hard even though I could see the glimmer of concern in his eyes. “You going to be ok?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll try.” 

✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV: 

It had been one full week since the horrible night at the club, and I hadn’t spoken to Oikawa once. The Sunday after the party, I cried every hour, and I ended up emailing coach Nobuteru asking for a few days off like a coward. I must have sounded pretty pathetic, because he ended up giving me the whole week. 

Avoiding practice didn’t mean I could avoid Oikawa all together, even though Seijoh was pretty big. In fact, I felt like I saw him everywhere throughout the school day. I began to keep my eyes peeled for his familiar tall figure and fluffy hair, turning around whenever I spotted him. It caused me to be late to a few classes, but it was better than the awkward interaction and the pain that would have ensued otherwise. 

What hurt the most was the fact that he didn’t seem that upset. Whenever I saw him, he was usually surrounded by people (mostly girls) talking and laughing like there was nothing wrong. Maybe to him, there wasn’t. Did I really matter that little to him? 

He also made no attempts to contact me or talk at all. I had received one call at 2am on the night of the party, but after that, contact went dead. 

My only form of communication was Iwa, and we both had made a silent pact to not mention HIM. Instead, we spent a few afternoons taking walks, going out to lunch, or eating snacks in his car while listening to angry rap. I was happy that I got to be with Iwaizumi without Oikawa as a constant distraction for once. I felt like we got closer because of it, and it became easy to talk to him about how I was feeling (excluding any mention of HIM). In return, he told me more about his mom, and eventually wanted me to meet her. We ended up visiting her in the hospital after school one day, and I held Iwa’s hand the whole time. She was in a deep sleep, but Iwaizumi told her about his day, and I introduced myself. As we left, I promised that I would take care of her son. 

Seeing Iwa’s mom made me realize how ridiculous the fight with Oikawa was, and how pitiful I was being. I refused to be the girl ruining her life over a boy. 

I couldn’t stop my chest from hurting though. 

Not working as Aoba Josiah's manager freed up a lot of my free time, and I ended up going to most of Karasuno’s practices after school. Being with the team lifted my spirits, especially when I noticed Hinata and Kageyama holding hands. 

They had noticeably improved, better than I had ever seen them. They worked as a coherent team, picking up each other's slack when one of the team members fell short, to the point where I was blown away. I wished I could be wholeheartedly happy for them, but all I could think about was how Aoba Johsai would have to face Karasuno in the finals. When had I become so loyal to Seijoh? 

Oikawa POV: 

The week after the party was hell.

The first day back at school I had a plan to corner Y/n after practice, but she ended up not showing. When I questioned Iwaizumi about it, he told me that she had decided not to come for the rest of the week, but if I wanted a reason, I would have to talk to her myself. I tried pressing him for more, but he was like a concrete (iron) wall. I clearly wasn’t going to get any help from him. 

After that, I looked for her everywhere in the halls, hoping to get a moment alone to talk. I spotted flashes of her a few times, but she always seemed to be moving away from me and I was always with people, so I couldn’t run after her. I considered calling her a few times, but chickened out, not sure if I would be able to handle her declining my calls. Iwaizumi had said to give her space anyway, so maybe I should wait. 

But I couldn’t get the image of her tear stained face out of my head though. Every moment, even as I faked smiles and laughs, my chest physically ached. I felt like I was being torn up inside, watching her slide farther away. 

On Friday after school, I headed to the office to get some permission slips signed for an away practice game coming up. My headphones blasted the 1975 into my ears, drowning out anyone trying to talk to me as I strode down the hall. A few girls stepped in my way, but I gave them apologetic smiles and kept moving. I was already late for practice, and I knew coach Nobuteru was going to make me run extra laps as punishment. 

I stepped into the cool office, breathing in the smell of copy paper and air freshener. My entire body froze as I spotted Y/n standing by the front desk, speaking to the woman behind the counter. 

As I approached, the woman paused in her conversation with Y/n. “Oikawa-san, it’s wonderful to see you!” I watched Y/n visibly stiffen, turning slowly to face me. I watched her face twist with some emotion I couldn’t name when she saw me, and I attempted a bright smile. 

“You as well, Ms. Suzuki. I was just here to get these papers signed.” I held them out, and the registrar smiled. 

“Of course,” she said, before turning back to Y/n. “I’ll get those copies you wanted if you just wait here a moment.”

Y/n gave a strained smile, pulling out her phone as the woman disappeared into the back office. I noticed her fingers trembling slightly as she scrolled through instagram. 

WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay…

“Why haven’t you been at practice?” I blurted, my voice coming out all wrong. I sounded like I didn’t care. 

She swallowed twice, not looking at me. “I needed some more time to focus on my homework.” 

Liar, she was such a dirty liar. She had never struggled with homework before, and she was one of smartest people I knew. 

“You--” 

Ms. Suzuki emerged from the back office, smiling brightly as she handed Y/n and I back our papers. The second my manager got her hands on the copies, she turned and practically sprinted from the office. 

“Y/n wait--!” 

The door slammed and she was gone. 

      ✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV:

I sat on my bed, trying to finish the math packet I had gotten in class today. The work wasn’t very hard, it just took a long time, and my brain felt dead. 

I was also majorly distracted. I couldn’t stop replaying the encounter with Oikawa over in my head, the horrible awkwardness and the sickening feeling when he smiled at me like everything was normal. I felt like a coward, unable to face him. I was sure he thought I was deranged after I had quite literally sprinted from the building. 

My pencil broke on the page, and I cursed, throwing the useless thing aside in frustration. As I reached for another on my bedside table, I heard a knock from downstairs on the front door. My mom was out at a business conference in Osaka, and my father was in his office working, so he wouldn’t be able to get the door. 

I groaned rolling to my feet. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour? 

I padded down the stairs, rubbing my eyes and stretching as I walked to the door. When I opened it, I felt my stomach explode and fly right out of my mouth as I blinked up at Oikawa standing on my porch. 

“Hey,” he shifted awkwardly, looking a little shy. He wore adidas pants and a regular white t-shirt, a black beanie covering his hair, and I was suddenly overly aware of my disgusting yellow pajama shirt and pink shorts I wore. 

I didn’t respond, my brain unable to catch up. 

He cleared his throat and stepped towards me, eyes on my face. “Y/n… I came here to apologize.” 

I let out a slow breath. “W-why?” I could feel tears already coming, but I clenched my fists. No crying. 

“Why what?” 

“Why are you here to apologize? I thought you didn’t care, and wanted nothing to do with me.” 

Oikawa’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You keep saying that...why do you think I don’t care about you? I do, a lot.” 

My hands were shaking. “I--” 

He stepped closer, towering over me, and I had to lean my head back to see his face. “Y/n, I wish I could take back what I said. I didn’t mean it, and I never want to make you sad again.” 

“It was my fault though. I shouldn’t have…” I trailed off, unable to look at him. 

“You-you had no obligation not to kiss Ushiwaka.” His jaw clenched but he continued. “I overreacted and blamed you. Please accept my apology? I don’t want to lose you.” 

My lower lip trembled. “You’re so…” I sniffled and looked away. “You don’t need to apologize. We both reacted badly.”

“But you’ll forgive me? I can’t take not having you around. This week has been hell.” 

I blinked, my face growing hot. “But I thought...” 

“What? That I didn’t care about our fight?” 

“I-I mean, you didn’t look that upset…” 

Oikawa let out a frustrated breath. “You don’t know anything.” “Then tell me.” 

His eyes were dark, his breath washing across my face as he leaned towards me. “I missed having you around, Chibi-chan, so much I could barely breathe. I don’t ever want to be the one to make you cry again, ok? I do care about you. Don’t forget it.”

I let out a half sob, half laugh, and my head fell forward to hit his chest. “Ok,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for walking away from you, and for kissing that dibshit. I didn’t mean for it to hurt you.” 

I gasped in surprise when he crushed me in a hug, his face buried in my neck. “I forgive you,” he murmured in my ear, and I relaxed, breathing in his familiar smell. 

After a long moment, he pulled away and I shuffled awkwardly. “Um, do you want to come in?” 

He grinned and shrugged. “Sure.”

He trailed behind me, kicking off his shoes and following me up the stairs to my bedroom. I flicked on the light, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious. My room was pretty simple, but it suddenly felt way too childish. I bit my lip, blushing furiously, but Oikawa looked delighted. 

“Is this you as a baby?” He grinned down at a picture of me dressed in a pumpkin costume when I was two. “You were so cute!” 

I smiled shyly, pulling him away and flopping on my bed. It was big enough to fit both of us shoulder to shoulder, and I opened my computer and pulled up Netflix. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

He nodded, scrolling through the list of movies available. “Horror?” He grinned wickedly. 

I rolled my eyes. “You hate horror movies, and so do I!” 

He shrugged. “So? Let’s just give it a try.” 

We ended up starting to watch the Grudge, which was about a cursed house and a ghost haunting and murdering everyone who entered said house. 

It was not the right decision. Oikawa hid his face for most of the movie and screamed like a child at the jump scares, and I was so freaked out I clutched his arm in a death grip, so hard he probably lost circulation. 

We stopped halfway, unable to continue, and Oikawa whined that he was too scared to go home alone now. I laughed, not arguing, because I didn’t want him to leave either. 

“I have ice cream downstairs, so I’m going to go grab it,” I said, rolling off the bed and heading to the door. The second I saw the dark, creepy hall, I insisted Oikawa come with me. Especially since it was his fault we had watched the movie in the first place. 

We held onto each other's arms as we slowly crept down the stairs, listening for any sign of ghosts or serial killers. I almost had a heart attack when my cat crept past us, which made Oikawa laugh his head off. 

In the kitchen, I snatched two spoons and sat on the floor, leaning my back up against the cupboard. Oikawa sat next to me, his long legs stretching way farther than mine. The ice cream tub was massive, easily shared between two people, and we munched on it in comfortable silence. I thought it was weird that I could be so happy sitting on the kitchen floor eating ice cream at 3am with Oikawa, more happy than I was during most other exciting moments. How did he do this to me?

“I’m glad you’re here, Tooru.” I turned to look at him, watching his face redden. Did he not want me using his first name? Shit, maybe I’d gone too far…

He cleared his throat before staring at me earnestly. “Me too.” 

I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

Chapter 12

Chapter 14

[agustdef]

Here & Now - Chapter 15

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 2,321

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn​

A hard knock on my bedroom door had me looking away from my phone and sitting up. My mother stood in the doorway, giving me a fake glare.

“Get your butt out here. Everybody’s here and ready.”

Without a word I got off the bed, grabbing my phone and power bank before padding out of the room. I could hear them downstairs before I even made one step, being rowdy as usual. When I finally got there they were all surrounding the coffee table, grabbing at the containers of Chinese food laying about.

“Drop it, Uncle Myron. You know that’s not for you.” I said.

The collective turned their heads to see me standing there, everyone’s expressions shocked. Then all at once the five of my uncles were pulling me into hugs that were way too tight.

“You didn’t say you were coming,” Uncle Joseph said as they pulled away.

“She surprised all of us,” my mother chimed in.

They all turned to glare at me, but I just smiled and walked past them. “I finished work that I needed to be present for early and thought I’d just pop in. I’m going to be on a vacation for the next month.”

I was already sitting on the floor at the corner of the table with my container of vegetable fried rice when they sat down. Uncle Bryce tried to grab it and when that failed tried to go for the general tso chicken that was also solely mine; each time he got his hand slapped.

“A vacation? You?” Uncle Phillip scoffed as he shoved his nasty shrimp fried rice in his face.

“Yes, I take those sometimes. It’s been a while and even though I still have things to do, but nothing pressing and there’s a no project thing in place for the next month. I think it would be good for me.

I could practically hear my mother roll her eyes. “And Marcus made her.”

“Yes, and Marcus made me.”

They all laughed and poked fun at me because they knew better than anyone that I needed to be pushed to take a vacation sometimes. Even if I really wanted it or felt like it would do me some good I wouldn’t. Sometimes I got too worried that I’d completely slack off, which was stupid since I still maintained my schedule to get things on deadline done in the midst of every vacation.

Uncle Byron nudged me softly, smiling down at me. “Well, we happy to see you and that you’re relaxing. What are you going to do? Travel some? Never leave your bed?”

I shrugged, continuing to eat my food. “I’ll see what I feel like as the days pass.”

After that, we all descended into the silence that was eating and watching Shameless for the hundredth time. We all enjoyed the chaos that was the show and would always end up rewatching it when together or we’d watch the anime Hellsing Ultimate. Took us forever to start new stuff when hanging out.

Once dinner was over and things were cleaned up, Uno was the new focus. And as usual chaos and betrayal were the only things present.

“You can’t stack Draw Fours!” Uncle Phillip tried to push the cards away.

“Yes, the hell I can!” I said, blocking his attempt.

“Since when?”

“Since always. Just because you went elsewhere and got used to their weak ass rules doesn’t mean they fly here. Now pick up sixteen cards.”

Everyone except him tried to keep a straight face but ended up bursting into laughter. He was not pleased in the slightest, or that’s at least what I gathered from the deep-set frown he wore.

The game was getting more intense and I swore Uncle Bryce was cheating, but it mattered not to me.

Placing down the other five cards I had that were all different colors, but all the number three. “Uno. Uno out!”

I was the first to accomplish this and fist-pumped in victory, which just earned a whole lot of glaring my way. My mother even jabbed me in the side, which hurt like hell.

“Cheater,” Uncle Bryce mumbled.

“How?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but you did.”

“You’re one to talk.”

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to get what I was implying. Glancing away from me he focused on the game, probably hoping not to be the loser as usual.

Sitting back I grabbed my pop from the table and watch is all unfold. My mother was hardcore glaring at Bryce, which meant she too was noticing something off about him. It would be hilarious if he was caught and had to suffer the penalty.

“So, dating anyone Kennie?” Uncle Joseph asked.

My face scrunched up and I eyed him carefully. He wore a blank expression, but it felt like he was up to no good. He was almost always up to no good. He was the class clown of the uncle collective.

“No, but she does think someone is cute and has developed a crush?” Mother said without even glancing my way.

“Where are you pulling this information from, mother?” I asked.

“Your face and the sweet boy who you were talking to yesterday. Same sweet boy from when I called and video chatted you a few months ago. He’s cute and seems to like you.”

If she didn’t always seem to pick up on things I would have been shocked by her conclusion. All of my life she’d been able to suss out things with ease and it was creepy then, but I’d learned to get used to it. Not like I lied to her about anything anyway. But I had to admit her picking up on feelings that I was just accepting made me feel awkward. Also the thought of Yoongi returning them.

“Sure. Maybe. I don’t know. I refuse to have this conversation.”

“Aw, why not? Don’t want to address your feelings?” Uncle Phillip teased.

Turning to the side I stared him down. “Want to discuss that time you and my mother dated when I was seven and eight? The thing you don’t think I remember?”

Both of them choked on air and their eyes went wide.

“How?” mother whispered.

I shrugged. “Not my fault you tried to sell that whole all of these are your uncles, even though two of them aren’t blood related narrative so hard that you thought sneaking around a curious seven-year-old would work out. Not like I would have cared, I understood the difference.”

Everyone had paused and the awkward silence made me laugh. It was so funny when they were all left so shocked that they couldn’t say anything. My daughter earned a punch to the arm from my mother, which stung for ten minutes after. Didn’t stop me from laughing though.

After they all took a moment to breathe and got back to their game. Just as my phone rang Bryce was found out and they were all yelling accusations at him.

I didn’t leave the room but curled up in the loveseat a tad farther from the main couch. Turning on my headphones I slipped them in and answered the call as they connected.

It took a second, but Yoongi’s face filled the phone. He seemed to be in a dance studio, at least that’s what I got from the large mirrors. Also the small glimpse of Jungkook being a dork in the reflection.

“Hey.”

He didn’t say anything, just squinted and looked behind me.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you not at home? That doesn’t look familiar and it seems darker than it should be.”

The realization that we hadn’t spoken much the past few days hit me. That and I’d only told Marcus and my boss that I was going to be leaving for Chicago.

“Oh, no I’m at my mom’s house. So, two hours ahead.”

Yoongi just continued to stare, his expression still confused. In an instant it shifted to a glare, his entire face becoming one he used when he was about to accuse me or someone else of something.

“You started your vacation early and didn’t tell me?” He sounded offended.

“...maybe.”

For the longest he just stared at me, his eyes narrowing so much that I wasn’t completely sure that they were open at all. But I could still see them scrunching up more and more, then opening wide again. He changed his strategy and then he was pouting, though I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not.

Everyone knew that the cuteness exuded was my weakness and were not afraid to use it against me.

“I’m sorry. I finished up faster than expected and decided to come home. I still don’t know what I’m going to do about the rest of the vacation though. Plus, plus only the people in charge of me know.”

He huffed but seemed to accept my response. The pout remained and I internally gushed at the way his cheeks puffed out but tried my best to keep it together. I hadn’t even realized I’d started smiling until he was smiling back at me.

“I feel like I could pinch your cheeks from here,” he mumbled. It was so low I was sure he hadn’t meant for me to hear it, which was backed up by his eyes going wide and him staring me down.

Keeping it together I tried to maintain the same face as before, not wanting for him to do that thing where he got shy and awkward. That always led to him to rushing off the phone and I wanted to talk to him. I’d grown used to calls or video chats almost daily when he wasn’t too busy.

“So, why’d you call without warning?” I asked, hoping his mind wouldn’t linger.

“Oh, I wanted to see if you ha…”

Before he could finish there was a scream from the other side of the living room that caught my attention. I’d been so preoccupied with him that I’d forgotten what was happening in the room.

Uncle Bryce was laying on the ground sprawled out as a bag of ice was being poured into his pants, he looked so distraught.

My eyes moved back to the phone and I smirked. “Want to see something equal parts funny and chaotic?”

At first, he looked annoyed, then curious. After a second he nodded and then I switched it to the other camera. He got the view of them shoving the last remnants of the ice bag into Bryce’s pants. His jaw dropped as he watched on.

"We're adults, how are we still doing things like this?" Uncle Bryce asked, trying to sound calm.

Uncle Phillip scoffed. "Yeah, we're adults so shut up and take your cold balls like an adult."

Trying not to laugh I switch back to the front-facing one. Yoongi kind of looked scared for a second or two.

“Why?”

With the straightest face I could must I said, “He dared cheat at Uno, he knew the consequences. He’s lucky it isn’t winter, or he’d be sitting outside in the cold for fifteen minutes naked.”

That did not clear his confusion.

“Why… what?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know Yoon, these were the laws they created when they were still in college. I merely abide by them.”

He went to speak, but then there was someone yelling in the background. If I’d heard correctly it was saying the break would be over in like three minutes.

Whatever he was going to say forgotten his face went neutral and much more serious. My stomach churned feeling so unsure of what he’d say next.

“Okay, I have to be quick. You have a month off and as you said no plans, right?”

I nodded.

“So, I know you’ve at least gotten a glimpse of your other work environments even if you haven’t worked there. And Bang PDnim and Joon were talking, which I overheard and now we’re wondering if you’d like to come here for a few weeks. Just to get a sense of the work environment.” He spoke so quickly that my brain jumbled the words and I had to take a moment to decode it.

When I caught up I froze a little. “Me in Korea for a few weeks?”

He nodded eyes flickering off camera and then back at me. “It would give you some more information before you make your decision.”

“Uh…”

A hand wave drew my attention to the collective, who was mostly still laughing at Uncle Bryce trying not to cry. But my mother was looking at me and nodding her head. I was confused and then she mouthed ‘do it’ and I understood.

My gaze moved to him and he was now standing up and standing next to Joon who was staring elsewhere.

“What happened to me not working much during this break?” I teased.

He rolled his eyes and grinned, his urgency gone. “It’s not even work. You’re not even bound to do anything, just hang out and meet everyone.”

I pursed my lips as if thinking. “Well, I’ve met two of the producers there and already have some complaints.”

“Hey!” Joon tilted closer to the screen and threw me a playful glare.

“I’m kidding. Sure, it sounds like it would be nice. I’d be traveling, exploring and still not feel so useless doing nothing.”

Yoongi smiled wide and Joon shouted yes before being scolded by someone that sounded like Hoseok. He turned to scold Yoongi too, after yelling a greeting to me from behind the phone.

“Okay. I’ll text you later and Bang should get in touch with you soon. Must go before Hobi throws my phone at a wall,” he rushed out while laughing.

“Okay, bye.” I waved and he hung up.

My mother was still staring at me, but this time she winked and gave a thumbs up.

[radmxnx]

Home

Description: Dan catches Phil looking at engagement rings, but months pass and he doesn’t pop the question. Dan starts to get a little frustrated.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1811

Dan and Phil sat in the lounge together, both scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr and other websites, occasionally giggling at some meme they found, or scoffing when someone tagged them in an erotic piece of fan art, occasionally sending the other some funny image they had come across. When Dan’s laptop screen shut off, he realized they had been sitting for twelve hours and it had died. He closed the lid and placed it on the table before scooting close to his boyfriend, leaned his head on his shoulder, and peeked at the screen in front of them. He was looking at rings on some jewelry website.

“Phil, as pretty as those are, why are you looking at rings?” He noticed it was in a collection of engagement rings

After a moment, Phil responded, “Dan, it’s no shock I want to get married eventually.” He clicked on another ring and read the description.

“I know that. But who said you’re going to be the one to pop the question?” He quirked a brow.

“I just want to be the one.” Phil replied quietly before clicking the URL and typing in the pizza place’s ordering page. “What kind of pizza do you want for dinner?”

The topic never came up again, much to Dan’s dismay. That conversation had been months prior, and he just wanted Phil to ask already. They had officially been together for ten years, he just wanted to be able to call Phil his forever.

Forever. He thought. Forever sounds perfect. They had already gone on their anniversary date and there wasn’t any important events happening. He didn’t know how or when Phil was going to propose, all he knew was he kept finding himself on the internet looking at venues, decorations, invitations and the like.

“Dan. I’m going up North for a few days next week.” The two were lounging in bed doing nothing in particular. They were in their pajamas cuddling, Muse quietly playing from the speakers on Dan’s phone.

“Did you want me to come?” Dan asked quietly because usually its “Dan, fancy a trip up North?” or “We’re going to my parents by the way.”

“When I leave, you’ll be headed to Louise. But, if you want you can come up for the rest of the week once you see her for the two days you were going to go. You said you needed a.. What did you call it?”

Dan sighed, “A catch up day…”

“Exactly. You’re spending the night with her anyways. Just go to her for a few days, then come on up and spend the rest of the time with me. Then we can head home together.” Dan just nodded and curled farther into him

As expected, Dan cried a little when Phil left. He waved at Phil from the platform as the tube took off. He turned to his own platform and waited for his tube to arrive to take him to Louise.

Four hours later, they sat on Lou’s couch sipping some red wine while Darcy watched cartoons. “I just don’t get it Lou. He mentioned marriage months ago. I’ve tried dropping hints he just hasn’t done it! He said he wanted to be the one to propose, and I want him to.” He takes a long sip of his drink.

“Maybe he’s scared? It’s nerve wracking, asking to spend your whole life with someone.”

“We’ve been together for ten years Lou. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know that, and he does too. Still, this is a question with meaning. It’s not something you ask over cereal.” Dan just sighs in response. “Look, you need to get your mind off it. Tomorrow, you me and Darcy can go back to town, catch a film, get some lunch, do something. Then the next day you can head up North to your knight in tight ass skinny jeans.” He just laughed and finished his glass.

True to her word, two days later Dan sat on the tube headed to Rawtenstall. His knee bouncing and music blasted through his headphones. Earlier that day, Phil had sent him a playlist of all their favorite songs from when they first met. He couldn’t help but feel nostalgic of the first time he traveled to see him. The intercom announced they were nearing his stop, and Dan pulled his headphones out and put them away, ready to get off and see his boyfriend. He smiles softly at his actions, he truly feels like it’s 2009 again and he’s barely meeting Phil for the first time.

When he finally gets off, luggage in hand, and walks through the gate, he sees Phil looking around. When they finally lock eyes, they run towards each other and held each other tightly. They knew it was cliche and that they probably looked like awkward gazelles but neither one of them cared. They just were glad to be together again. They pull back and Dan realizes Phil has his hair pulled back down into a fringe and the black jacket he wore the first time they met was on.

“Fancy some Starbucks?” Phil gestured to the Starbucks they had went to the first time they had met.

“Always.” And with that, Phil grabbed him by the hand, not caring if people saw, and took him to Starbucks. Continuing with the theme, he told Dan to sit on the couch in the corner, the same corner they sat in the first time. He came back with two caramel macchiatos. They spent the rest of the day going to their favorite places. For the first time, they held hands in public and didn’t care about consequences. They were just happy to be together.

As the night died down, they decided to go to Phil’s parents house.

“You know what I just realized?” Dan asked as they walked hand in hand to the house. “At some point, this became your parents house, not your home. Your old bedroom became exactly that, your old room. Now, your bedroom is in London. Your home is in London.”

“It isn’t in London.” Phil said quietly. Dan’s heart dropped a bit but kept his hand in Phil’s. He stopped talking after that. Once they got to the house, Phil unlocked the door and led them inside. “My parents are out, won’t be home until tomorrow. I’ll drop this in the room. You know where the kitchen is if you want anything.” Phil walked upstairs to put Dan’s bag away.

Dan just walked to the lounge and sat. Phil was acting oddly, more distant. He was stupid to come, Phil obviously needed time away from Dan. That’s what the trip was for. He felt bad for Dan. The thoughts quickly left his mind when Phil walked in. He had his hair back in a quiff, and he wore a red button up with white flowers. Phil just smiled at Dan and asked if he wanted some dinner. Dan just nodded. In the kitchen, there was some Chinese takeout on the counter and a bottle of wine. Phil made two plates of the food, grabbed two glasses, the wine, and set them on the table. There was a fancy table cloth and some candles set. He lit the candles and pulled a seat out for Dan. Once he sat, Phil pushed in the chair and sat across from him. He poured the wine and finally spoke. They mostly made small talk. They talked about Louise, Darcy, the trip, the playlist, and finally when they finished eating, they talked about them.

“Today was about more than just you coming here.” Phil finally mentioned.

“I was a bit thrown by your decision to wear the fringe again. Must say, haven’t missed it.” Dan added sarcastically.

“I wanted to make it special. I wanted a trip down memory lane.” Phil smiled and poured more wine into both glasses. “Earlier, you mentioned London is home. I suppose yeah, in a way it is.”

Dan just looked at his plate.

“You said London wasn’t home. I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. I know this is home and-”

Phil cut him off. “Dan, home is wherever you are.” Dan’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he smiled.

“You almost gave me a heart attack you spork.” Phil apologized and proceeded to start cleaning. It wasn’t uncommon for Phil to do this sort of thing, make dinner elaborate and fancy, be super sweet and sentimental. Dan would never admit it, but he loved it every time. Who wouldn’t?

Once the table was clear of plates and cutlery and the candles were blown out, Phil led Dan up to his room. Dan walked in first and the sight was stunning. Fairy lights were strung across the room from wall to wall hanging above their heads. Attached, pictures of them from the years they had been together. Some that they had shared to the public, most not. When he turned to face his boyfriend, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill, Phil was on one knee.

“Dan, I told you earlier that wherever you are, as long as I’m with you, I’m home. I meant it. I took you on the trip today to show you how far we have come. We’re no longer young, dumb, and careless. I can confidently say that the past ten years have been the best of my entire life and I want to be with you for the rest of it. I want to be there on your bad days when you can’t seem to get out of bed, and the good where you smile so big that your cheeks are sore after. I want to raise kids together, get a dog and a cat, an actual house we can call ours.I want to fight and argue, I want to make up, I want the good with the bad. You may not be perfect, neither am I, but I know that you’re perfect for me. So Dan, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

He flips open the ring box. It’s the same ring from those months ago on the laptop screen. Dan doesn’t say anything, he just drops to his knees and pulls Phil into a hug. At this point, Dan sees the camera in the corner. He pulls back slightly just to attach their lips. After a minute or so, Phil pulls away, tears streaming down his face.

“Does that mean it’s a yes?”

Dan, with tears running down, nods frantically. Phil grabs his hand and slides the ring on. Dan kisses him again.

Two weeks later, there is a video posted on all three channels. It tells a tale of a young boy going to meet his idol for the first time and eventually getting engaged. Dan wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jason-todd-deserved-better]

High School Crush - Damian Wayne x Reader Headcanon

A/N: Hey guys sorry I haven’t posted in a good minute, I’ve just been hella busy these past few weeks. First, it was Spring Break.(I was out of state on vacation and I didn’t have much time to write sadly.) Then I had my family over the past few days. Either way, I’m back for now and I’m still open for requests and I hope you guys enjoy Damian’s part. Let me know what you think, I love you guys!

Summary: After getting your seats switched, you and Damian start developing feelings for each other that neither of you guys know how to deal with.

~Okay, you were 110% a wallflower.

~Like if someone wanted to find a textbook definition, there’d be a picture of you right next to it. with your earplugs in and your face forever looking off indifferently.

~Yeah that was you throughout all of freshmen, sophomore, and even junior year,

~Currently you were a senior, just making it halfway through the year and in all honesty, you were seriously ready for everything to be over.

~You were thinking of this when you were taking out your calculus textbook for the first class of the day.

~That class was what you liked to call, Satan’s Confidant and right-hand man.

~Mostly because the teacher sucked major ass, plus he couldn’t teach for jack shit, which is why you cursed his entire existence at night. (You hated spending your time YouTubing math channels, just so you could pass that class, and still not get anything higher than a B.)

~It automatically put a cloud over your head as you walked into the class, pulled out the right plug and shoved it into the inside of your hoodie as you sat down. (He was annoyingly anal about earplugs.)

~Your seat was in the back, right next to the window, and you often just dazed out toward the courtyard.

~Funnily enough, our favorite angry Wayne also was in said class straight from hell.

~He hated the class, heck he hated everyone in it, and everyone who went to the school in general. (It’s not surprising, it’s Damian for crying out loud.)

~He had an opinion about literally everyone.

~Including you, and it wasn't nice but also not the worst. ~Basically he thought that you were pretty lazy with you never paying attention and (Badly, in his opinion) hiding your earplugs.

~He obviously didn’t know that you and him were the only two that had a grade above a low C.

~So other than that first impression, he didn’t really pay you any mind. (No one really did honestly.) ~Until the very day that Satan’s Best Friend™ decided to make everyone's life just a little more difficult than it already was.

~That’s when he decided to move almost everyone’s seat, and make them do group work so they could, “Get to know each other better.”

~Damian was not pleased, and neither were you but not to the extent of his displeasure.

~Either way, it wasn’t till you guys had to start working on the thing did he start to realize that something was weird.

~Especially when you finished your part in under 5 minutes and even corrected a small mistake on his part of the worksheet.

~Seriously, what?!

~He was confused but didn’t let it show.

~You just went back to your own little world, kind of sad that you were farther away from the window.

~Damian just discreetly stared at you the rest of the time, now trying to really figure you out.

~This didn’t stop in the class, it kept going for a long while.

~He would just shadow you throughout the day, you only noticed a couple days later.

~You were at your normal spot under the large tree in the courtyard, eating the sandwich that you made that morning.

~In the corner of your eye you could see the young Wayne staring at you.

~Yeah, it was weird but you shrugged it off, thinking that he’d eventually get bored and leave you alone.

~You were very wrong and the next day you decided to see what was up with him.

~It was lunch, and yet again you could see his looming figure in the corner of your eye.

~”You know, if you just wanted to talk to me you could just do so, instead of stalking me throughout the whole school.” You spoke out to him.

~”Who said I wanted to talk to you?” Was his sarcastic reply.

~”Well, you’re talking now so clearly you.”

~Silence.

~”Plus your still here, so you clearly want something.” ~Silence yet again.

~”If you could do me a favor, get out from behind me. Seriously, it’s annoying to yell over there.”

~To both your and even Damian’s surprise he actually came forward and sat next to you.

~Cue a good long awkward silence.

~That is until you break it

~”So… Any bands you like to listen to?” You wanted to slap yourself in the face because that was a seriously stupid question. ~Damian, on the other hand, was kind of confused, he didn’t really listen to any music, he just never had the time or the interest in it.

~”No.” Was his simple answer.

~”How about independent artists?” This peaked your interest, finding it a little odd.

~Again another pause.

~”No.” It was just the plain truth.

~”Wait, so you’re saying you don’t listen to music?”

~”I don’t listen to music often.”

~Oh my god, this rich kid has so much to learn was the first thing to pop into your head.

~That was the beginning of your guy’s friendship, with you and him sharing the headphones and listening to the songs of your favorite artists. (With the many snide comments coming from him.)

~So everyday during lunch you would introduce him the genres that you felt would represent him best. ~Turns out he got interested in a few bands/solos that you showed him.

~The Neighborhood was one that he really started to like, much to your enjoyment and sometimes to your worry.

~One day R.I.P 2 My Youth came on and he was quiet throughout the whole thing.

~That wasn’t normal, he always had something sarcastic to say about the songs you’d put on the past couple months.

~”Hey, are you okay?” You thinking that you should have skipped the song when you had the chance.

~”What would you do if I died?” Was his sudden answer.

~Okay, WHAT?!

~You obviously didn’t know about his late night “activities” and how he was in constant danger, in and out of costume.

~”What do you mean, Damian?” Your eyes scrunch up, seriously worried for him.

~”Exactly what I asked, what would you do if I died.” He was intensely staring into your eyes, determined to get an answer out of you.

~Now you seriously wished you skipped the song.

~”I-I don’t know what I’d do…” You turn your head away from him, unable to look into his eyes. “You’re honestly my best friend Damian, I seriously don’t know.” (Damian didn’t know why the word “friend” stung a little bit.)

~His only reply was silence.

~You slowly got the feeling that he was hiding something, you had a few ideas about what it was, (Depression was the main one.) but you never got right on the reason why he asked.

~”You know you could talk to me about anything, right?” You say leaning your back against the tree, eyes now looking through the leafs and up towards the sky.

~Again he says nothing, and you swear that your heart felt like it was breaking.

~”Damian?” You look back over to him only to see him a whole lot closer then he was a second before.

~He glanced down to your lips, not knowing why or even why he was moving closer in the first place.

~Your eyes widened, your mind practically turned off for a good second and just from utter confusion.

~While your brain checked out of sanity, Damian checked himself back into thinking clearly.

~Then he proceeded to back up a good couple feet, then to just straight out stand up and walk away.

~You were too shocked for words and before you could even let out anything, he was gone.

~You didn’t see him the next day, or the day after that, and you were honestly ready to flip your shit from how worried you were.

~He just didn’t show up to school, and you were ultimately alone.

~In Calculus you felt it the most, there was just a dark cloud over your head.

~Like you had so very little options on what to do (You couldn’t just go to the Wayne Manor and knock on the door to ask if Damian was there, let alone if he was alright. Plus, he wasn’t answering is phone, which wasn’t surprising because he never really did in the first place.)

~So after a week of hearing absolutely nothing from or about him, you were just making it to the door of your house when you heard your parents screaming at each other in the living room.

~This was saying something because of course your headphones were in and they were blasting.

~At this point in your life you were used to this happening, when you were a kid they would argue often but by the time you hit the milestone of high school, it got progressively worse.

~That’s why you wore your headphones in the first place, you just needed a way to block them out, and then when the world started to get cruler to you, you blocked that out too.

~You walked into the house, preparing for yet another long night and jump out of your skin when you see and hear a vase slam against the wall in front of you.

~You let out a small yell, feeling your heart slam against your chest, but you got out of there and ran up the stairs as fast as you could.

~Of course they didn’t notice, their constant arguing too distracting to them to notice that they almost hit their daughter in the face with a glass vase, or that she even got home to begin with.

~Locking your bedroom door, you collapse on the floor in the far corner of your room, finally breaking down, the past events finally getting to you.

~Your parents weren’t ever violent to you, but now you were seriously scared for your safety, they always yelled but never had it gotten to the point of violence.

~That’s when you notice that there was a weight missing in your ears.

~Pulling out your phone, you see the cord hanging, wires exposed where the earpieces are supposed to be.

~Turns out you pulled them off with your door when you ran in.

~You didn’t know for how long you cried for but when you looked up, the night sky was out to greet you.

~Well it must have been for a while as it was daytime when you got there, but the fighting never stopped and you felt the vibrations on the wall behind you as things were being thrown left and right.

~Finally you had enough of the screeching, and walked over to the window, pushing it open.

~You climbed out to the fire escape, shutting the window.

~You only shut it to shut out the shouting, but it was only muffled so that’s what made you climb up the ladder leading to the roof.

~When you got there you were only able to hear the faint voices of your parents.

~Sighing, you sat on the edge the roof, seriously wanting the world to just stop.

~At this point you didn’t notice the waterworks were starting up again, too busy with the thoughts in your head.

~Hell, you didn’t even notice that you were being watched.

~Yup, the current Robin was behind you watching your shoulders shake as a sob leaves your throat.

~He’d gone on a week long mission, and had just gotten back to Gotham a couple hours before, plus he was still was still planning going out on patrol.

~He wasn’t expecting to find you on your roof, let alone crying, or even the screaming under the both of you.

~When you did finally notice, you turned your head to see a very pissed off Robin.

~Well fuck you gently with a chainsaw.

~”What happened.” His familiar voice stated, his eyes traveling to the side of your neck and if it was possible to show even more rage, he just did.

~You covered the spot with your hand, as if to keep his fiery glare off of it, only for you to find that spot wet.

~Confused, you pulled it off to see what it was, only to see blood coating your fingers.

~Huh… guess you weren’t as far away from the vase as you thought.

~”Well fuck…” You muttered out, looking at your hand, and again not noticing that he was now ultra close to you.

~You only noticed when he as gently as he could, pushed down your hand, put his hand under your chin and moved your head to the side to get a closer look at the damage, snapping you out of your trance.

~He moved his hand away after a moment, backing you away and grabbing your hand to then quickly take you down the ladder and to your bedroom window.

~He pushed it open, then goes inside and pulling you in, but you felt your heart go in your throat when he started talking.

~”(Y/N) tell me what happened.” He said after shutting the window and closing the blinds.

~Oh crap how did he know your name was going through your mind, the screaming now lower than it was beforehand, now just them loudly arguing.

~”How do you know my name?”

~He was pulling you towards the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat, and pulling out a first aid kit from the cabinet.

~”Because I do.” Was his smartass response, as he moved your head to the side as he put disinfectant on the cut and you wincing because of the sting.

~His gaze softens softly, his hands then pulling on the largest bandaid.

~He kept his hand on your neck, checking you for any other injuries, and you finally were able to get a good look at his face.

~You definitely knew him, but were trying to tell yourself that you were going crazy, but all the signs were pointing to it as your hand moved up to his mask.

~He saw it coming, and he let you put your hand on the mask, closing his eyes as you gently pulled it off.

~Holy.

~Fucking.

~Shit.

~You were right and weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

~”Damian?” You whispered out, his eyes opening to see your shocked face with tears yet again threatening to spill at the edges.

~He didn’t have the chance to respond as he was suddenly pulled into a hug by you.

~Damian just held you as you cried, he wasn’t able to tell you about the mission and the last conversation you guys had understandably stressed you out.

~He told you what happened and how it wasn’t your fault that he left, then it was your turn.

~At this point you had separated and were back in the bedroom, the house now quiet for once as your parents finally went to sleep.

~You looked down towards the ground as you told him your situation, and how it had been going on for years on end.

~When you got to the part of what happened that afternoon your eyes continued to water, and you honestly didn’t notice that you had gotten hurt.

~He sat next to you, his hand brushing under your chin, pushing it up only barely an inch apart from you.

~”I won’t let them hurt you again, mentally or physically.” He whispered against your lips before meeting them with his own. ~You were prepared this time as you kissed him back.

~Not very long after that, you were soon going to college with Damian, the both of you getting an apartment by the campus and the two of you stuck it through each other, blasting music one day at a time.

[andrewilnyckyjhateblog]

bodys

pairing: shyan word count: 4.1k status: one-shot content warnings: rated explicit for graphic depictions of sex acts

summary: every other wednesday, like clockwork, ryan gets antsy. shane wants to — no, needs to know why. (spoiler alert: he's horny.)

→ READ ON AO3.

(is it the chorus yet? no. it’s just the building of the verse so when the chorus does come, it’ll be more rewarding.)

Every other Wednesday, Ryan got antsy.

Shane had started to notice this months ago — he knew, sometimes, Ryan got a little jittery. Even after they started working on Unsolved together, he hadn’t realized that there was such a routine to it. But after a while, he’d started noticing things about Ryan. Just little things, like how he took his coffee, and how he wore different shoes depending on his mood, and how he liked to go for runs when he was stressed.

And every other Wednesday, he got antsy. It was almost like clockwork. He would get up and walk around — to the coffee station, to the bathroom, just a quick jaunt around — at least once an hour, if not twice. It was worse in the afternoon. He wouldn’t eat at lunch.

Shane was mostly curious. Ryan had a lot of energy, but this was above and beyond. It was abnormal, and while Shane appreciated, for the sake of his sanity, that there was a kind of rhythm to this abnormality, it was still — it was out of the ordinary, he couldn’t explain it. And that was annoying. It was like a little tick in his brain, eye twitching every time Ryan left his desk. Ideally, Ryan wouldn’t get antsy in this way. He wouldn’t jiggle his leg until it sounded like such a jackhammer Shane had to put his headphones on. He wouldn’t tap on his keyboard without typing like he was writing some kind of incomprehensible Lorem Ipsum nonsense. But, at the very least, Shane could know why he got like this.

He was mostly curious, of course, but there was a little part of him that was concerned. Concerned that Ryan wasn’t able to get work done. That it would get in the way of something important sooner or later. After all, every other Wednesday, not being able to focus in the least — that was a lot of time lost, a lot of work not done. That could interfere with their editing, his research, recording, shoots; it was reasonable for Shane to worry things wouldn’t get done like this. And an even smaller part of him was concerned that something was wrong. Something was making Ryan worry, something was making Ryan anxious, something was upsetting him — or something else, maybe. Maybe it was anticipation, or excitement. He was waiting for something, or maybe even for someone, and this part of him, however small, shouted louder than the rest of his thoughts about Ryan’s Restless Wednesdays. If it was Ryan waiting for someone, or even just a thing he was doing, it wasn’t anything he’d told Shane about. If he was dating someone, or going somewhere, it was a part of his life that Shane was locked out of. And it wasn’t like Shane would care — they were friends, of course. Best friends, even. But if Ryan had a crush on the barista at the Starbucks who worked Wednesday evening shifts, or if he had doctor’s appointments on Thursday mornings, then he hadn’t told Shane, and a part of Shane’s mind traitorously interpreteda this as hiding it from him.

So he noticed Ryan got antsy, and he almost wished he hadn’t, because it had become such a point of obsession in his “mildly-interesting-events-calendar” that it was starting to drive him as crazy as it seemed to drive Ryan. It didn’t help that the Wednesday in question, the Wednesday he’d decided to dwell on these feelings of unease, Ryan was worse than usual.

It was right before lunch. Ryan had stood up several times, looking as though he was going to leave, go somewhere — and then he’d sit back down again, back to browsing through footage mindlessly. It was annoying, bordering on vexing, because they had to finish a video to go up Friday, and they weren’t nearly done. Ryan was slowing the whole thing down with this bullshit. And Shane had had it. Quietly, he vowed to himself, next time Ryan stood up, he would confront him about it. What was going on in his personal life wasn’t really Shane’s business if Ryan didn’t want to tell him about it, though he’d felt that they were close enough that Ryan could, but it was starting to interfere with his work which, quite literally, was his business indeed.

It took several more loops before Shane could force himself to follow. Ryan had gotten up, and actually had taken several steps, before turning to Shane as though to say something. Instead of speaking, he had turned around, headed back to his desk, and without even bothering to sit, turned around and started walking again. Shane stood, several of his long strides outpacing Ryan easily. His legs were, at best, unmanageable, but they had their perks.

Placing a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, he bent to speak to him quietly, voice low as he spoke. “Let’s talk. Privately.”

Ryan swallowed and nodded, taking Shane’s arm and pulling him into a secluded hallway. After a beat, just peering up at him, he spoke, landing somewhere in trying to sound pleasant and failing, instead producing a nervous kind of hiss. “What’s up?”

“You’re acting… weird.”

Ryan frowned, brows knitting. “I’m always weird.”

“You are.”

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t know, man, you’re just… You get antsy.” Shane jammed his hands into his pockets, and glanced up, breaking the steady eye contact. It was harder than he’d imagined, confronting Ryan about this. It was awkward, and neither of them were strangers to that, but even so, he was finding it extremely unpleasant.

Ryan’s brows rose in surprise, mouth parting in a slight ‘o’. “I am, huh?” he asked, running his hands over his face.

“Yeah, like. Every other Wednesday, like clockwork. It’s… kind of annoying, I guess? Distracting. And you can’t get work done. I guess I just wanted to see what’s up with you.”

He broke into a crooked smile, turning a little red across his cheeks, to Shane’s surprise. It was… cute. Very cute. He didn’t answer, though, after a beat, so Shane kept rambling — he couldn’t help himself. “You know, if something’s up, you can tell me. We’re buds. More than just, like… ghouligans. I’m your pal for real. Even if it’s just a crush or something.”

“God, okay, you can stop.” Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. He was still combing his hands through his hair — another nervous tick. “Okay, here’s the thing. I do my T shot every other Thursday morning. And by Wednesday afternoon…”

Shane breathed out a sigh of relief before Ryan finished. It wasn’t something bad, or someone else (and he tried not to think about the strange wash of relief when he confirmed it wasn’t a crush). He was probably just… nervous for his shot, or something — though Shane had vague knowledge that, at almost 28, he’d been doing this for nearly a decade, so nerves seemed a bit off — after that long, even Ryan would get used to it, wouldn’t he?

“By Wednesday afternoon. I get,” he paused again, cheeks reddening even more. Shane raised a single eyebrow — whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine how it could be this embarrassing. “I get, like, inconsolably horny. It’s just a hormone thing, but it’s distracting. As you can imagine. Like the feeling of a perma-boner, for hours. It’s draining, even.”

He hadn’t expected that. And, in the matter of a few words, his perception of the past few months had changed entirely. Ryan wasn’t anxious, he was aroused. And, even if it was embarrassing and frustrating for him, Shane couldn’t suppress his thoughts of how hot that was — jiggling his leg, getting up to walk around, all of the fidgeting. All that time disappearing. He wondered, for a brief moment, if Ryan had ever rubbed one out in a closet. He dismissed the thought quickly, though. Even if he was into his colleague and friend in a way he wasn’t able or ready to address, he wasn’t a creep, and wouldn’t think about his best bud masturbating, especially not to his face.

Ryan wasn’t looking at him anymore, his whole face lit up bright red, eyes wide and pointing to the ground. It was an infuriatingly endearing way to react to telling Shane that he had spent hours sitting beside him, too randy to think. Shane had to react, he knew — though it didn’t seem like it, it had to have been a stressful admission to make, one that made Ryan vulnerable to — humiliation, he supposed.

“Should’ve just grabbed me for a quickie in the bathroom. Problem solved.” Shane blurted. He snorted, before realizing Ryan wasn’t laughing at all. He was thinking.

“You’d be up for that?”

“What?”

“Like,” Ryan mumbled, face in his hands again, “like a friends-with-benefits set-up, I guess. A quick fuck so I can actually focus.”

He hadn’t expected that response at all. Not that Shane had actually thought about what he was saying before he said it, because he wasn’t, in the least, but — he thought Ryan would shove him and laugh it off, not this. At the same time, though, he didn’t… dislike the idea. Ryan was hot, and Shane would be a fool if he thought he wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to him. They had good chemistry as friends, and he was certain they’d have pretty good chemistry in that way, too. And they cared about each other, in a way that superceded any sexual desires — in a way, it kind of made sense.

And Ryan was hot.

And he was into Shane. He wanted to have sex with Shane, supposedly, based on this proposition.

Shane didn’t overthink it. “Hey, why not.” If he overthought it, he’d talk himself out of it, and if he was being entirely honest — it had been a while since he’d gotten laid, and the idea of a low-key fuckbuddy, something casual and quick, sounded pretty good at this point. He glanced at his watch, and quirked his lips. “I don’t think we have time to head to either of our places on our lunch, though…”

“Well,” Ryan said, glancing leftwards. “There’s a single stall bathroom right here. It’s pretty big. Big enough for both of us.” And, just like that, Shane opened the door, and with a quick glance behind them, to make sure nobody saw them, they ducked into the bathroom. Ryan headed in first, and pulled Shane behind him.

The door slammed shut, and Shane searched for the light switch. When he flicked it on, it dawned on him how wildly unsexy this whole situation was. As nice as the Buzzfeed offices were, it was still a bathroom. The lights flickered above them, casting unflattering shadows.

Still, looking at Ryan, Shane’s heart twisted in a way that wasn’t entirely platonic. He was so — endearing, he supposed, shifting nervously across from him. It was an interesting thing about Ryan, how he managed to look so strong, so confident, stern face and set jaw and ultra-masc appearance, but so open, so vulnerable at the same time. It was one of Shane’s favourite parts of him. And, of course, he was undeniably attractive — a kind of masculine beauty to him, in his clenched jaw and set brows and strong arms. Like anyone else, Shane had his insecurities, but he’d come to terms with them. It had been a long time he’d felt so inadequate, standing across from a partner.

Realizing they’d been standing in silence for a long moment, he forced himself to try and break the tension. “This is like some kind of bad porno, huh?”

Ryan snorted. “Yeah. Two horny bros fuck in the office bathroom!”

“Next unsolved mystery: how many kinds of sex can you have in five and a half square feet?” They both started cackling, barely smothering their laughter, before realizing someone in that hallway could definitely hear them if they listened — that set off more laughter, Shane choking it down, Ryan covering his mouth with his hand. “Alright, okay. Uh. How d’ya wanna start, then?”

Ryan swallowed thickly. “We could make out?”

“Alright,” Shane replied, and leaned down, fingers grazing Ryan’s jaw as he tilted his head up. They kissed, softly and slowly — familiar and new all at once, exploring how they slotted against one another, and how easy it seemed to be. Ryan tasted like coffee and toothpaste, just a hint of sweetness. Shane bumped his nose against Ryan, and he pulled back for a moment, snickering.

Still, he looks down at Ryan with a little wonderment at how good it was. Making out with someone for the first time was rarely good. It was awkward, nerve-wracking, a little uncomfortable; for them, it was all of these things, but it was still distinctly good. And it was hot. He wasn’t wrong in thinking they’d have good chemistry.

“You need to do something about that big fuckin’ honker.”

“Do I?”

“No.” Ryan was smiling and blushing, looking messy and tousled in the best way. He went in for another kiss, brief but not at all chaste, tender as he moved down his throat. He pressed kisses into Shane’s jaw through the beard fuzz, strong arms wrapping around him as he moved to his neck. He unbuttoned the top button of his flannel and pressed a kiss to Shane’s collarbone, spreading the shirt open so he could nip and bite at it. Shane’s hand instinctively went to his mouth, biting down on his fingers, smothering a moan. “Easy to please, huh? Wish we weren’t at work — I’d love to hear you.”

Shane breathed in sharply, and realized he had a chub already — if he didn’t take control of the situation soon, he would embarrass himself, coming in his pants like a teenager. Besides, it was Ryan who needed this, much more than he did.

Pulling away for a moment, he took another deep breath to calm himself before leaning back down, pulling Ryan in for another hungry kiss. This time, he took the lead, hands trailing down his sides, slipping under his shirt. He felt the ridges of Ryan’s hips, firm and muscular, running his thumbs over them and down towards the waistband of boxer-briefs. He ran his index finger along the elastic, slipping it below slowly. Breaking their kiss for a moment, Shane whispered to Ryan, voice low and breathy. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking heady and a little dazed. Between kisses, Shane moved quickly, unbuckling Ryan’s belt and undoing his jeans. Shane found himself a little dumbfounded by the whole situation — he had fallen into this so easily, so readily. He’d never seriously considered Ryan before as, well, anything more than Ryan. His best friend, his ghost-hunting partner, his co-host, his biggest supporter. But this transition felt almost natural — like it was the next step in their relationship, like this was where it was headed anyways. In a way, it wasn’t more than Ryan. It was just… him.

Ryan helped him shimmy his jeans down a little, and Shane shook his head. It felt so high school, jamming his hands down another guy’s pants to give him a handy. A bathroom was better than a janitor’s closet, but not by much. He dragged his fingers down Ryan’s v-line, taking in how defined it was — he knew Ryan was in shape, but he hadn’t realized the dude was sculpted. Slowly, painstakingly so, he slipped his fingers beneath the band of Ryan’s underwear. He paused for a moment, hand still down Ryan’s pants. “Should I… go get lube?”

Ryan wheezed, breathy and fast. “Little late for that. Spit?”

“Aw, man. I’m not gonna spit on my hand. That’s so porny.”

Pausing for a moment, Ryan drew Shane’s hand out of his pants, bringing it upwards. Leaning down a bit, he parted his lips, still holding Shane’s gaze up through his lashes, and slowly started sucking on Shane’s fingers. He always thought that move was a little contrived, but his mind was changed — watching Ryan take him in his mouth, swallowing each knuckle easily, through fluttering lashes in some perverse twist of innocence… it had to be one of the hottest things Shane had ever seen.

After a few seconds, Ryan pulled away. “Good to go, then?” His voice sounded a little rough, a little raw.

Shane nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He slipped his fingers below Ryan’s waistband once more, this time going lower — he felt Ryan’s clit, erect and straining against his boxer-briefs. He was already wet. Shane started stroking his clit slowly, thumb circling across the top. His gaze was steady on Ryan’s face, watching him tilt his head back, clenched fist against his mouth to hide it parting, trying to smother a gasp.

He slipped a finger into Ryan’s cunt, shallow and slow, still working his clit as he did so. Ryan was hot and wet, and Shane had to bite back a curse, just thinking of what it would feel like around his cock. Ryan gasped again, a shaky ‘fuck’ in Shane’s ear. He was hot, and getting to touch him was hot — but the most satisfying part of this, what was making his dick strain against his pants and kept him chewing on his lip, trying to choke back moans, was how he was pleasuring Ryan, how good Ryan was feeling. His satisfaction was the best part. Shane had always felt, in sex, it was best for him when he was topping; he liked doing the work, being the active partner, entirely honed in on making whoever he was with feel as good as possible. This felt like that, dialled to a thousand.

Ryan was pushing against him, hips twitching, fingers shaking as they moved across his shoulders, down his sides, to his mouth in a clenched fist and through his hair. He looked as though his knees could give at any moment — almost to where Shane wanted him. Dipping his head again, he whispered to Ryan. “Can I eat you out?”

Ryan nodded vigorously, but Shane waited for a verbal yes. He pulled his hand out from Ryan’s jeans, thumbing his hip bone again as he did. “Yeah, God. Fuck. Please,” Ryan whimpered as he let Shane shimmy his jeans down. Taking a breath, he boosted himself onto the sink counter. “God, I can’t think about how gross this is, this fucking bathroom.”

“Don’t,” Shane said as he kneeled, slotting himself between Ryan’s thighs, knees over his shoulders. He took a moment, just taking the sight in. His happy trail, the downy hair covering his thighs, muscular and flexing in anticipation. He ran his thumbs across Ryan’s inner thighs, glancing up at his face. His brows were knitted, shoulders bunched — Shane had noticed that Ryan drew in on himself when he was tense. He wanted to make him feel loose, unclenched, absolutely falling apart. Slowly, delicately, he thumbed at the lips of Ryan’s hole, feeling his legs twitch. “This feel good?” he asked, and waited for Ryan to nod. When he got the response he was looking for, he leaned in, pulling Ryan’s clit into his mouth and sucking gently, savouring the feeling of Ryan shaking and writhing above him. He felt his own cock straining against his pants. Even without Ryan touching him, he was close to the edge. Ryan’s legs wrapped around Shane’s neck, hands threading through his hair. He scratched at Shane’s scalp, breathing shakily as he did.

His tongue swirled against Ryan, and he slipped a finger inside his cunt, massaging him. He yanked Shane’s hair in response, hissing out a slow ‘yes’. Shane moaned against him — he hadn’t thought he was into hair-pulling, but when it was Ryan, it was somehow… incredibly sexy. If he had thought Ryan was antsy before, he hadn’t seen anything then — he was bucking against Shane, hips twitching in every moment, incredibly responsive to anything Shane did. “I—I think I’m close,” he choked out.

Shane inserted another finger, mouth and hand moving faster and faster. He slipped his free hand down his own pants — coming in his pants, at this point, was unavoidable. He was just embracing the inevitable. His cock was full and incredibly sensitive; he stroked once, twice, thrice, barely able to control his own hips jerking.

They came together, in near-perfect synchronicity. Shane allowed himself a moment of pride for his timing skills — he made Ryan come pretty quickly (his previous horniness notwithstanding). Ryan leaned back on his elbows as Shane disentangled them, moving forward to pull him into a rough kiss once he rose from his knees. His hands threaded through Shane’s hair, tugging slightly, and Shane felt him grin against his lips.

“Thanks,” Ryan said when he pulled away, wearing a crooked, tired smile. He took several deep breaths, looking spent and satisfied, before sliding off the counter, shimmying his jeans back up.

“No problem,” Shane replied, a little bemused by how casual their whole post-sex exchange was. He pulled his hand from his pants, and cringed when he realized the aftermath of coming in his pants — he did indeed have cum in his boxers. “Aw, gross.”

Ryan wheezed a laugh, clapping Shane on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re going commando, big guy.” Shane glanced at his watched — Ryan was right. Not enough time to go home and change. “You’ll be alright.”

He was already preening in the mirror, trying (and failing) to smooth out his hair and unwrinkle his clothes — even if he managed, which he didn’t, he couldn’t wipe that post-sex satisfaction off his face. Something in the pit of Shane’s stomach, more tender than lust and more affectionate than intended, was proud to put that expression on him, even if it was just going to trigger unending amounts of office gossip and mockery. He knew he himself looked dazed and rumpled.

As Ryan went to unlock the door, and Shane resigned himself to ditching his boxers and freeballing, he paused. Shane hadn’t had time to really consider whether they’d do this again, and it seemed Ryan had a similar thought when he’d turned around. “So… that was fun. Top five lays at least.”

“Top five?” Shane replied, tone slightly mocking. “Oh wow, really?”

“Hey, considering we’re in a fucking office bathroom in the middle of the workday, I’d say that’s pretty good. I can bump you down for attitude.”

“You can bump me down anytime.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Wanna… keep doing this?”

“I’ll block off an appointment in my calendar. 20 minutes, two weeks from now?”

“I was thinking sooner, but if you want to wait, that’s your prerogative.”

That made Shane backtrack quickly — he hadn’t really expected Ryan to want to turn this into a full FWB situation when he’d yanked him into the bathroom but, in the same breath, he absolutely wasn’t complaining. “No, no, sooner sounds great.”

“Alright, well.” Ryan turned to leave, before pausing again. He took a step towards Shane, then a step towards the door, and a step back to Shane again.

“I thought we did this to stop you from being so… antsy and weird.”

After a beat, Ryan slapped his ass, groping it for a moment before he pulled away. “Weird, sure. Antsy, nah. I was just trying to make up my mind — if I wanted to see if anything was there or not. More than I expected.”

As he opened the door, Shane shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” he mumbled at Ryan’s back.

Ryan glanced behind him, cracking a goofy grin. “Think I can get a ‘Sasquatch is real and I fucked him’ hat now? You’re basically one in the same, right?”

“I think you’ll have to actually fuck me to get that. Come on, put your money where your mouth is.”

He rolled his eyes, still wheezing. “I’ll put it on the agenda. Have fun with your cumpants, big fella.”

“Yessir,” Shane replied, as Ryan closed the door behind him.

He took a moment to take stock of the situation, standing alone in the bathroom. So: he’d fucked his best friend, with unforseen and unconsidered consequences. He had cum in his pants. He was dazed from the fuck, and probably would be a little hazy for a few hours at least — he wasn’t seventeen anymore.

But, at the very least, he’d had a good time.

And Ryan wouldn’t be so antsy anymore.

we can get real horny / and keep messing around we can keep real quiet / won’t be making no sounds i’ll try my best / not to touch your face next time can we / please meet at my place?

[blankie-greenie-anon]

Notable stuff from HAPPY KISS episode 5

It seems that every Monday morning when I come to class, there will be this guy to join me in the viewing of HAPPY KISS. He doesn’t mind me using the projector and he has headphones on, but it puts a damper on the fun because I can’t put the volume to the highest.

Ichirou likes to skip steps when climbing stairs.

Ryouma refers to Ichirou as “the morning screamer.”

The line to the “Maasa Sweets Festival” is so long it extends beyond the school.

Nanao got a pack of cookies for Ryouma, but purposely holds it out of reach before actually letting him have the pack.

The first-years are visibly uncomfortable watching Nanao pick on Ryouma.

Ryouma never loses his temper at Nanao no matter how much he teases him.

When the Defense Club passed by Martha’s stall, the long line of waiting students suddenly disappeared.

Martha baked all those cookies on his own.

Martha had two bodyguards with him as he handed out cookies.

“Maasa Sweets Festival” extends to lunchtime.

In addition to a pack of cookies, Sujikawa Honeo was gifted a cupcake topped with fresh cream.

Sujikawa Honeo is so skinny, he is light enough to be blown off his feet by a simple breeze.

Sujikawa Honeo has such a weak stomach, nearly anything he eats goes back up his mouth later. He has attempted protein shakes and carbo-loading but nothing worked. It’s possible that his stomach simply cannot digest particularly concentrated foods. He can probably only consume diluted stuff.

Apparently, Ata and Taiju were not informed about the “Maasa Sweets Festival.”

In Taishi’s explanation about human evolution, Ryouma was used as an example of a homo sapien.

Ryouma really likes sweets, but fears getting fat.

Taishi is proud of himself for knowing so many facts.

Ichirou is so dense that ho matter how obvious Nanao’s insults are, they fly right over him. No wonder he prefers to tease Ryouma, because he always gets a good reaction.

The sound effect when Furanui smells unhappiness is “Kun, kun.”

Martha was so caught with his “Maasa ‘Fatten up, you pigs!’ Festival” that he didn’t realise the rest of the Student Council were in the room with him.

When Martha asked how long had they been standing there, Furanui felt awkward trying to answer him.

It is quite clear that whatever evil plan Martha was carrying out, he doesn’t intend to involve the Student Council.

As he runs down the stairs, Martha would stop a few steps short and hop off to the ground.

Ichirou brings his own hand towel to the bath.

Ichirou doesn’t know why Martha is avoiding him. Nevertheless, the former is friendly with the latter.

Even though he was eager to get away from Ichirou, Martha stopped when he was called.

One can hear a piano rendition of Happy Ready????? being played in the background during Ichirou and Martha's meeting.

According to Ichirou, Martha participated in a foreign exchange program which explains why he uses English words when he talks, and also why he changed his traditional Japanese name to an English one.

When Ichirou met Martha again, it was high school and the latter had come in a fancy limo. A long red carpet was even rolled out for him. He was already garbed in his Student Council uniform. When Akoya first joined the student council, he was wearing the normal uniform. This could mean Martha applied for the Student Council before coming to school, and got in because of his status.

No matter how much he’s changed, Ichirou supports Martha even if he can’t completely comprehend the reason for the change.

Martha is clearly from a wealthy upbringing, though Ichirou’s case is unconfirmed.

Taishi seems to be aware of Ichirou’s connection to Martha, but he never knew about Martha’s past as Magozaemon. It shows that Taishi wasn’t Ichirou’s childhood friend, otherwise he would have known about Martha’s previous appearance since Ichirou would likely boast about his cousin getting a role in a play.

Magozaemon was an obese child and a big-eater. Interestingly, he wasn’t bullied for being fat. Perhaps the bullying was subtle and passive, unlike the Beppu Twins whose bullying was more obvious and aggressive. Nonetheless, Magozaemon was clearly insecure about his weight and appearance. When selected to play Bunbuku Chagama (a tanuki that transforms into a teapot), he was obviously at the verge of tears because the kids audibly elected him because he was fat and had a traditional name, which isn’t really a reason to play a main character. Despite that, Ichirou was happy that his cousin was the protagonist.

Martha probably resented Ichirou for never standing up for him or even catching on that the former was insecure.

It’s possible that all the children in Binan attend the same set of schools, from Binan Elementary to Binan High, hence giving Martha a reason to have his festival and fatten everyone up because they were the same kids who kept pointing out how fat he was.

Martha being fat in the past has actually been foreshadowed by the fact he wore suspenders with his Student Council uniform. Suspenders are said to be for fat people, and Magozaemon wore a pair with his clothes.

Martha compulsively eats when he’s upset.

Martha had apparently abstained from carbs for four whole years. This is also proves that Martha left the country before middle school and returned for high school.

Martha can pitch like a professional baseball player.

Martha takes his rage out on others, as shown when he sees Sujikawa Honeo coming out of the public restroom after another round of puking and immediately starts to tell him off.

Ata and Taiju seemed to have been following Martha the entire time since they conveniently pop up right after Martha says he’d turn Sujikawa Honeo into a monster. Either that, or they were searching for Sujikawa Honeo and chanced upon Martha.

In LOVE, we have never seen Atsushi’s glasses fog up unlike Taishi’s. This is because Atsushi often ate spicy curry while in Taishi’s situation, he was having a steaming bowl of ramen.

The Chicken Carcass Monster had two soup spoons in his bowl but no chopsticks, likely because you can’t get any noodles or narutomaki from a chicken carcass.

As usual, the Defense Club dismiss the unhappy monster as a nuisance.

The Chicken Carcass Monster becomes so frustrated, he tried to stir up a tornado with his wings, except he had no feathers and only skin so his actions only gave the Defense Club second-hand embarrassment.

Nanao seems fond of green tea, drinking it in the bath and ordering a cup at the ramen stall.

As much as the boys would be so happy to just leave the Chicken Carcass Monster squawking outside alone, they can’t if Karls doesn’t allow it.

Ichirou was less than pleased when Karls showed up.

The ramen stall owner was conveniently missing the whole time, so no one had much of a problem when Karls decided to flood the restaurant. Maybe Karls actually teleports the boys into some pocket dimension to transform before bringing them back to the battle.

This time, Nanao stands in the center with Kyoutarou at the left.

The Chicken Carcass Monster spewing broth at the Happy Kiss is quite reminiscent of the Chikuwabu Monster’s blasting of broth from the top of his head at the Battle Lovers.

For the first time since episode one, the boys actually used their wands. Well, it was only Ichirou but good enough.

When struck with Ichirou’s beam, the broth turned into a sphere of liquid floating in the air, quite like how water in zero-gravity conditions simply float around in wet blobs. This proves that Ichirou’s magic can remove the gravitational pull of whatever he hits.

The boys, without hesitation, tasted the bubble of broth and remarked how delicious it was (If it were me, I’d suck in the whole bubble after tasting it once).

Even after being powered up, Kyoutarou can’t stay standing for too long and has to lie down after a while.

Kyoutarou says that as long as you’re healthy and can enjoy a nap, it doesn’t matter how you look.

Ryouma had to drag Kyoutarou to the others so they could do the finishing move.

Sujikawa Honeo, though as thin as a stick insect, could lift a boulder on his shoulders and toss it in the air.

When Ata and Taiju asked to try Martha’s cookies, Martha doesn’t want to give them any, yet he was happy to gift a whole basket to Furanui. Maybe at that time, Martha was actually executing his “Maasa ‘Fatten up, you pigs!’ Festival” on Furanui as revenge for kicking in his face since in the episode before that he’d told Furanui to get fat.

Martha wanted to tell Ata and Taiju his secret though reluctant, but the seniors kindly changed the topic and expressed their support of him, even if they don’t really understand the motive behind his ideas.

Ichirou doesn’t know what Martha’s secret was, or if he actually had one. He brought his elementary school yearbook because he figured the answer would be there, and presumably wanted the Defense Club to aid him in his investigation.

Ichirou had a lot of happy childhood memories as he was very cheerful when showing the others the yearbook.

Martha lives in an expensive apartment complex.

Even though he clearly despised his old self, Martha still held on to his elementary school yearbook.

[docholligay]

A Stopped Clock: Chapter 6--Schism

The sixth chapter in the story originally commissioned by @katrani! this chapter is a little over 3,400 words. Entire series is found here

“Just ‘ave a bit of faith, Win!” She yelled as a bullet pinged over the top of the concrete barrier they were pinned behind, Winston slouched as low as he could go. She wasn’t afraid. She was never afraid.

“Tracer. Winston. There are, oh, twenty-five, twenty-six omnics surrounding you.” The voice seemed mildly amused by the entire situation. “I suggest you stay put.”

“You’ve a real sense of timing, ‘aven’t you, Ana?” Tracer blew her bangs out of her face and smiled. “Don’t worry, love. Won’t let nothing ‘appen to you.”

Winston closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d known this might happen, when he decided to join Tracer in the field, but he did not have Tracer’s inborn comfort with the idea of dying in line of duty, and always felt awkward next to the rest of the soldiers. Awkward and scared.

  Tracer put her hand on his, her eyes glowing with confidence, her voice chipper.  “Bit of a pig’s ear, this, but we’ll nip off to the pub tonight, after Ana explains to us all ‘ow bloody stupid we are. There’s one what ‘as a beer that tastes of banana bread, least that’s what the menu claims, sounds--”

There was a roar and the sound of a hammer slamming into metal.

“Rein!” Tracer giggling, her accelerator glowing brightly as she prepared to pounce. “See love? A little faith, is all.”

If you had asked Winston, he would have said Tracer was doing wonderfully. That he had faith that she would be okay. Some of that was Winston’s natural desire to have it be true, and even he would have admitted as much. But still, he felt, over the course of three weeks, she had improved by leaps and bounds.

Which put him in the mind that she would normally be leaping and bounding, which depressed him a bit, and so he let go to of the phrase, but kept the thought.

He sat in the large tire near her bed, watching a television show that must be nearly 70 years old by now. He loved it in the way that a person loves the Saturday Morning cartoon they grew up with, laughing at it teasingly while the whole of his heart felt wrapped warm with the love of it.

Dr. Harold had played it for him, at the station, his ideas of the qualities of mankind and what the future could be filling up the tiny screen and filling Winston’s mind. If it had been silly Winston did not care. It felt like he was holding Dr. Harold near, in those moments, the polyester uniforms a comfort few people could understand.

“Make it so,” the comforting voice boomed onscreen.

There were moments now, mercifully, where Tracer seemed to relax, just a little, where every tiny sound and touch did not seem to assail her, and now, as he listened to Captain Picard through the headphones he’d carefully rigged for himself, he thanked whatever goodness there was in the world that now seemed to be one of those moments. Her eyes lit on things now, sometimes, focusing for a moment before they flew away, and she would watch for a moment, and then close them, cushioned by the softness of the tiny nest Winston had created for her.

He’d been a little rough on her this morning, he thought, so early and so thorough, but she needed to be cleaned up, and dressed half-normally, and rested, and all of that necessitated so many things, and it was just like being in battle again, awkward and scared and unsure.

But she;d slept, after it all, and it made him feel some peace, seeing her comfortable, if even for a moment. That everything might not be lost.

If Tracer were herself, she would tell him not to worry so much, just give her a bit of time, is all, and he could practically hear her exasperated, comforting love, clipped and devoid of the letter h and perfect. She would tell him there were bigger problems in the world, such as the fact that there was no delivery to the outpost, not Chinese or Indian or even pizza.

She’d complained about that vehemently, as they’d suited up for Numbani. Told Winston they had to stop somewhere on the way back, as it was Mercy’s turn to cook.

That she might not come back had never occurred to her. She didn’t borrow trouble, she always said.

It managed to find her anyways, she’d add, laughing.

He leaned up gently against the edge of the bed, whispering in the way he had become used to these last weeks. “I don’t want to pressure you, but if you were going to start talking, today would be the day to do it.”

  Tracer opened her eyes, and looked at him for a moment, and she might have been tired--she usually was--but to Winston it looked, just for a moment, as if she was annoyed. There was a spark there, and he clung to it like the last lantern in a storm. Please be annoyed with me, Lena.

He glanced up at the clock. “I have to tell you something. I just wanted you to rest first..”

__ __

One week earlier

.

“Winston’s care of her is exceptional.” Mercy sat up, trying to come across as authoritative. She did not know what Overwatch had in mind--things had been so strange, with the deaths of Gabriel and Jack, with the United Nations calling at their door. But she knew enough to know, that she could not give any critique to the way Winston had been caring for Tracer. There was no critique to give.

“That was not a question I had asked, Dr. Ziegler.” Zuiliani looked at her, his glasses down on his nose as he pored over Tracer’s file. “You are the global expert on Tracer’s condition.”

Mercy gave a weak laugh. “I am nothing but the global expert on Tracer.” She shook her head. “She is entirely unique, are you not understanding that?”

  “I asked,” he removed his glasses, “when you thought she might get better. If.”

“Tomorrow. Never. I will not be giving a prediction on a study of one.” She took a deep breath. He wasn’t meaning to be offensive. He was a military man, and a man of science, and it was sometimes difficult for an engineering type to understand that humans were not always a thing you could plug into a formula. “She is the only person on earth like her, Commander. We are not even understanding why her body acts in that way, or the physical cause. Her treatment is symptomatic. I would have been calling it Tracer Syndrome in my papers, but Lena did not want to be known like that, for that.”

  He nodded. “Based on your knowledge of Tracer, is all I am asking. If you expect her to get well, reasonably soon.”

  Mercy sat with her thoughts for a moment. She loathed these moments, where she did not know the way to answer, where honesty felt like cruelty. She had no expectation of Tracer in any direction, on a scientific level. She was not lying when she said there was no one like Tracer in this world. What she had been through was akin to torture, in her mind, a torture method that had yet been unstudied.

  Zuliani continued. “What needs to be done with her--”

“I am believing Tracer was wounded in action. Both times.” She looked at him severely. “I am forgetting? Or is it not true that being in service when you are wounded gives you certain rights?”

“Dr. Ziegler, we are not enemies, you and I.”

“That is true,” she nodded, “I am only wanting to be certain we have the same understanding,” She stood quietly, “I will not be signing a document to place a burden on her expectations. She is getting good care, and she is stable, and I will not help you ask anything of her but to live.”

  She moved to the door, still shaking.

“Dr. Ziegler. You know I will have someone evaluate her.”

“Yes,” She gripped the doorknob. “But it will not be me.”

___

Winston put up his hands toward the doctor as they walked toward his lab. “She’s most sensitive to noise and to touch, so, I try to keep my voice low.” he looked nervously over at the man who walked next to him, holding his notebook calmly, as if he didn’t realize he held the fate of Winston’s dearest person in his hands.

The commander has not said as much when he told Winston Tracer would need to be evaluated by a physician, but Mercy’s refusal to be that physician told him all he needed to know. That they weren’t so much wondering how she was doing as what to do with her.

The first time she had come back, they had let Winston keep her in the lab. They hadn’t bothered Winston much, in those days. Overwatch was mostly thriving. What Winston did, so long as he also worked on developing technologies, was up to him. But now, with Overwatch against the ropes, he wasn’t sure.

They had loved Tracer when she was the brave mouthpiece for Overwatch, the girl who had come back and was even better. They loved for her to show off her blinking, as if Overwatch had given her a gift, editing out carefully the annoyances of wearing her accelerator every day, of charges and batteries and not feeling as if she could go to the movies without a coat on. The dreams that gripped her occasionally.

But now she was hurt (not broken. Winston would never say that, never let anyone else say that in his presence) and she was a liability, and Winston was awkward and scared. Like always.

He reconsidered talking about Tracer’s limitations. Better to bring forward her successes.

“You know, she’s eating now. Mostly protien shakes, of course, but it’s remarkable progress, I think, don’t you?” He looked at the doctor expectantly.

The doctor said nothing, simply flipped through her file and gave a weak smile.

“Angela’s been reducing her medication too, she’s a bit more clear-minded.”

“Yes,” The doctor looked up, “Dr. Ziegler had firm opinions on the nature of Agent Oxton’s case and progress, which she was only too happy to share with me.”

Agent Oxton. Winston didn’t think there was anything that could sound more disconnected than simply referring to her by her callsign, but there it was, out in front of him. Tracer, at least, felt like it belonged to her, it had been her callsign all through the RAF, a tribute to her mother, she happily wore it inscribed on her jacket. This felt so...disconnected. Even Ana called her Tracer, and Ana had been mostly annoyed by her in the best of times.

Winston paused at the door of the lab and looked over at the doctor. “She’s trying so hard.”

“I’m not here to punish her, Winston.”

Dr. Winston. I’m a doctor, too. I have multiple Ph.Ds. And you aren’t here to help her, either.

But Winston simply nodded, took a deep breath, and opened the first part of the timelock. He’d been working on a less bulky way to do this, a way to install it in a room in a home. He was fairly certain he’d lit upon it. He had been planning on giving it to her for Christmas. At least her bedroom could be more comfortable. He’d make it stronger, expand it to a floor, he would tell her, he just needed more time to work.

  He’d tell her he bought an old warehouse in London. It was being turned into a home for him. He’d live in London, like she always wanted. She was the only family he had anyhow. The Oxtons could use it for Christmas, if they wanted. It’d be more than big enough to fit all of them.

He had been so excited, just 6 weeks ago.

Tracer sat against the headboard of her bed, dressed in the bright blue toucan print shirt she loved so much, one of her joyfully tacky acquisitions from the boys’ department. She blinked a few times and shook her head at the sound of Winston coming in the door.

  “Lena…” He spoke softly.

“Dr. Perreault,” He stepped forward, not speaking as quietly as Winston would have appreciated, “I’m here to perform your medical examination.”

Tracer swallowed, and her eyes lit on him, trying to focus, trying to say something, the effort of it marked upon her face. Winston wanted to tell him to go away, to leave her alone, that she was doing all she could, that she just needed time.

The trouble’s mostly I’ve too much time, love, Tracer would have joked, if she could.

But she couldn’t. All she could do is recoil and howl as he pressed the too-cold stethoscope to her wrist, a tear of frustration and pain trailing down her cheek.

  Winston felt his stomach turn, and as Dr. Perreault’s pencil scratched on the paper, he finally understood how a noise could be so large as to crush you.

___

“It isn’t as if we feel you’re doing a poor job with her,” He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, “But you know, the United Nations is keeping a close eye, and with our ranks smaller, the mess with Reyes and Morrison, we need you on the field. And,” He angled his eyebrow to Winston, “If the UN decides to inspect the facility, you know we can’t have someone who makes this organization look...uncivilized here. Dangerous.”

“Doomfist is the one who hurt her.” His voice was wary. “We brought her back.”

Zuliani looked carefully, choosing his words. “Tracer’s initial...disability was the beginning of the inquiries years ago, and you know that.”

Because you sent her in a plane that was poorly tested, into something that the technology for shouldn’t even be possible, that still isn’t possible on that scale, and because you tried to cover it up, and you would have left her for dead if you hadn’t thought she could get back the plane…

“And?” he dreaded the asking, but the not knowing was worse.

  “She may never recover. My specialist--”

Winston nearly jumped on top of the desk. “Your specialist doesn’t know her. He saw her for twenty minutes and he left.  It’s been three weeks, she hasn’t had time to heal at all, she came back from this once, she can do it again. Even in those three weeks, she’s--”

He raised his palm to Winston and smiled reassuringly. “We won’t abandon her, of course. Disabled in the line of duty. That doesn’t mean nothing to the organization.” He pulled a brochure out of his desk. “I’ve made arrangements with a very well regarded care facility. They’re prepared for her, and she’ll be transferred at the end of the w—"

“No, you can’t.” He wished for courage behind his voice, but there was only hurt, only sadness. “She’ll hate a place like that. It won’t--she won’t--they don’t know her at all, Commander, she’ll never get better. She’ll die.”

He sighed heavily. “I know you’re very close. But she won’t die, I assure you.”

“She will in the way it matters.”

Zuiliani set the brochure in his hand. “This is the official decision of the organization. You of course can visit her anytime, and we’ll make a allowances for you--”

“I officially tender my resignation. I officially tender our resignation.” Winston stood up from the desk, staring intently at Zuliani. He hated Doomfist, and would the rest of his life, but in the darkest, quietest, guiltiest part of his heart, he knew that what Doomfist had done had strengthened him as few things could. It had made him discover he had a line. Where he was no longer awkward and scared. A place where he would break in a way that made others afraid.

She was never afraid, but she’d been afraid that day, clutching what was left of her accelerator to her chest. He’d never forget the look on her face, the way she reached out to him, the sheer, shaking fear in her eyes...

  “Winston--”

His eyes sparked with anger. “Dr. Winston! And my papers are on file. I am certain even your specialist will sign off that she in not in the right stage of mind to decide for herself.”

Zuliani stood up from his desk, even as he could not hope to match Winston in size. “If you care about Overwatch’s--”

  “YOU ARE NOT OVERWATCH ANYMORE!” He slammed his fist down on the desk, neatly cracking the solid walnut, and immediately drew his hand to his chest. “I believed in the mission. This isn’t that anymore.” He set his badge on the table. “We’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

“Wi--Dr. Winston, you have a duty to--”

“Yes,” Winston said quietly, “I have a duty to do the right thing.”

He stormed out of the office, his mind whirling with thoughts. He had to call Lily, or Mark. They’d know how to arrange transportation. He had to do it quickly, what if they decided to take matters into their own hands, what if he woke up one morning and found her sent away? Or worse. No, not worse, they’d never do that...would they?

  There was the quick step of someone running up to meet him, and he turned.

“Winston!” Mercy cried out, a slight smile on her face as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She eyes searched his face, and a soft sadness filled them. “Oh,” she touched his elbow gently, “Is something wrong? Is Lena not doing so well, I thought--”

“I handed in my resignation. I’m taking Lena home.” He looked at her, apologetic, and then looked at the ground, unable to meet her gaze.

“Home?”

“I bought an old warehouse in London, to have it made for me, and–I was going to surprise Lena, she’s always wanted me to have a place there, but now–now we’re just going to go. It’s not finished, but it’s enough.”

Mercy shook her head. “I--”

“Angela, they were going to send her away,” He could not look at her, still, and his voice dripped with pain. “To some facility. They don’t think she’ll get better. They won’t give her time.”

Mercy looked off into the distance for a moment, her voice quiet. “I should have lied. I am sorry.”

“They asked you?” He looked back at her, incredulous.

She nodded silently. “I was trying--I did not want to bind her. I did not mean for this. I TOLD Perreault...” She was shaking now, though with frustration or anger or sadness, Winston did not know.  

There was a part of Winston that wanted to be angry, that wanted to ask Mercy why she had ever thought Overwatch would act in Tracer’s best interests, how she could be so stupidly hopeful. But he looked at the broken disappointment on her face, and realized it mirrored his own. They had both had some vain, foolish hope. Some belief in the goodness Overwatch stood for. Had stood for.

He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “It isn’t your fault, Angela. They would have done it anyway.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps that hurts the most.”

____

Sitting in Tracer’s little bug jar with her, afraid now to leave her alone, Winston recounted the things he did not have. He did not have a job with which to support he and Tracer. He did not have any idea whether Tracer would hate him for having destroyed both of their careers. He did not know when Mark Oxton was going to return his phone call. He did not have the moving boxes necessary for even their meager belongings. He did not have a home that wasn’t in the middle of construction.

He did not have the slightest idea how much money was in his bank account. Or hers.

He sighed heavily and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. There was no taking this back. If he tried, they’d make him sign her away to that...place. Who did he know with money? Maybe Oxford would give him a teaching position? He certainly had the paperwork to back up such a position, even if Overwatch wasn’t exactly free of controversy at the moment.

He’d take a job repairing cell phones, if that’s what it took.

He felt a small touch on his arm, and turned to see Tracer looking at him. 

It was just one small, quiet word.

“Win.”

He smiled.

He had no protection, no long-term plan, and no foreseeable future.

But he had faith. 

[jess-the-vampire]

Tom Vs The Forces Of Evil (Au), Chapter 10

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"Tom?", Marco opened the door to his friend's room and peeked his head through the door, "We got school today, why aren't you up?" Tom was lying in his bed, covered in blankets, he wasn't dressed, and his hair was still a mess. Tom got up early to get ready, at least he usually did. Marco walked over to his friend and shook him, "Tom? Tom you have to get up we're gonna be late...." "Marco.....", Tom grumbled and looked at his friend, "I don't feel well.....". Marco sat on his bed, "You're sick?" "I think so....I just....I don't feel ok, I-I don't think I can go to school today...", He pressed his face into his pillow, "I think today I should just stay here and rest, just tell my teachers i'm sick today and you can bring me whatever I have to work on I guess...." Marco reached a hand out and felt Tom's forehead, "I could stay too If you want? I Don't want you to be alone..."

"No it's fine, your parents can take care of me......just let them know i'm here and....you should go.." "Are you sure?", Marco didn't enjoy leaving Tom alone, he could be hurt, or kidnapped, or who knows what. Maybe it was just his safe kid instincts as per usual, but he just didn't enjoy Tom being in places he couldn't see him in. Tom could take care of himself of course, but there was always a possibility of something huge happening and he wouldn't be there. "Yeah, you need to go to school more then me anyway.....I just need to rest...", Tom said, smiling, "I'll be just fine, you go on...." Marco smiled and helped pull the covers over Tom a little more, "Ok, i'll let my parents and your teachers know, and when I get back i'll get you some soup and i'll help you with your schoolwork, is that ok?". Tom nodded, and Marco waved at him and closed the door gently behind him. Marco couldn't help but look back at Tom's bedroom door before he went down the stairs, this was the first time Tom wasn't going to school with him since he moved in and he almost felt like Tom would get up any moment and leave with him. Tom must've caught a bug when he visited mewni a few days ago, he hoped it wasn't anything serious or that his dad poisoned his food. He found his parents in the living room, watching TV together. "Marco, where's Tom?", His mother asked immediately, "You both have school today..." "Tom's sick...", he informed, his parents' faces started to look worried and he immediately tried to calm them down, "It's ok, it's ok....I think he just needs some rest.... " "Should we go upstairs? I can get a doctor or-", marco knew they were starting to panic, they usually always were very concerned whenever their exchange students were under the whether, because they took it as a sign they hadn't taken good care of them. "No, just....check on him, and see if he needs anything..", Marco reassured, "I'm sure it's minor...." He looked at his watch, "I better go, just.....don't worry, he'll be fine....just bring him some food and keep an eye on him ok?" He starting heading out the door and waited for their response. They both gave him thumbs up, and he took that as a good sign and closed the door behind him in relief that his parents wouldn't go to any extreme to help cure Tom. Marco felt awkward walking to the bus stop without Tom. He was safe with his parents sure, but, he missed sitting next to him; Sharing headphones and listening to Love Sentence on the ride to school and mouthing the lyrics together like dorks. He never realized how much Tom became a part of his life, and his daily routine. He could even see his classmates around him eyeing him, taking note that the seat next to him was empty. Some girls were snickering at him and he blushed. "Hey Diaz....where's your roommate? He didn't go off and find cooler friends did he?" Marco resisted the urge to hit her in the face and instead gave her a look. "I dunno Abby? Maybe he wanted to go to school another route since this one is has your bad attitude stinking up the place?" The girl snarled at him and he resumed listening to music alone. Sigh, this was gonna be a long day.... - Tom sat up, feeling very hot and sweaty, his head hurt..... a lot. Can't sleep, can't relax, he wasn't sure if he was entirely sick but he was certain he was in no condition to go anywhere. His wand sat on the bed next to him, and he wondered if it was possible there was a spell that might make him feel better, but then elected to not point a magic wand at his face considering the consequences of messing up and making himself sicker. All he could think about was the screams and hollers of pain from the monster he tortured, and they wouldn't stop ringing in his ears. He also couldn't help but think about his father, and his reaction. He kinda expected him to be more pleased, but then again, his father was almost never pleased. He felt his throbbing head, he should've asked Marco more about how humans handle this, so Marco could cure him with earth magic. He wanted to call up Marco's parents, who'd been asking him almost every minute if he needed anything until he told them he'd be find on his own for a bit, maybe to ask for something to eat or whatever else humans did to make them....not-sick. For now he elected to take a cold shower and made his way into the bathroom. He pressed his head against the shower wall as cold water ran down his back, he felt really gross, he wasn't very used to being sick considering back on Mewni people took care of him quickly to make sure their future king would be alive to pass on the wand to his next heir. How did normal people bear this feeling for so long? He wrapped a towel around himself once finished, and decided to change into some clean, nonsweaty, clothes. He slipped into shorts and a tank top and tried to go back to bed, but then he shivered, feeling a bit cold now. He groaned into his pillow, he just wanted to sleep until Marco came back, and he couldn't convince his body to do so. He stood back up and walked to the corner of his room and let his rabbit out, the pink rabbit happily made his way onto the boy's lap as he scratched behind his ears. "Hey buddy...", Tom mumbled,"Guess we can hang out till Marco gets back...." Marshmallow sniffed his hand before hopping around the floor, he ran around for a bit when Tom saw him hide under his bed. Tom laughed, "Oh, c'mon you....you don't really think you can hide from me?", Tom made his way over to his flame patterned bed and grabbed his soft rabbit out from under it, but something else came with him. A red hoodie, Marshmallow poked his head out from the collar, and Tom laughed. "Oh yeah, I forgot I hid that....", Tom laughed at when he tried to prank marco by hiding his hoodie, only to find out Marco had 50 other red hoodies just like this one; Some prankster he was. Marshmallow plopped out onto Tom's lap and Tom looked at the hoodie and after thinking a bit, pulled it over his head to reduce the cold. "So this is what it feels like....", Tom mumbled, he wouldn't admit it but it felt like permanent hug from marco. It was nice. He looked around for a bit, Marco wouldn't be back for awhile, he wouldn't mind if he borrowed his hoodie for a bit right? He saw his Rabbit pawing at him and smiled, maybe being sick wouldn't be so bad? - Marco missed Tom, he missed him a lot. He was so used to hanging out with him at school, meeting up with him, having lunch with him, walking to classes together. Marco'd had a few friends before Tom, but he hadn't spent nearly as much time with them as he did with Tom now. He felt eyes on him, people wondering where Tom was since they were usually always together. At least his teachers were understanding, although carrying extra homework and classwork for Tom kinda sucked. Marco sat down at lunch, eating alone at he and Tom's usual table when someone sat down next to him. "Hey Marco!" Jackie. Marco had to calm down so he didn't choke on his sandwich. "H-hey.." "Sorry...", She started, "I just noticed Tom wasn't here and I thought you might like company, is that ok?" "Y-Yeah, that's totally ok!!.", he replied way too fast, "Tom's sick today....so..yeah.." "Aww, i'm sorry, I hope he feels better soon...", She replied, "Getting sick on a school day kinda sucks when you have tons of make up work to do, but i'm sure he won't mind getting a break from school..." "Y-Yeah...", Marco was having trouble coming up with proper replies, "I-I'm gonna help him make up his work so he doesn't fall behind....I mean, he doesn't really need earth school since he's gonna be king of mewni but..." He trailed off, feeling very nervous and sweaty. Jackie laughed, "Well you're a good friend then, he's lucky to have you.." Marco smiled wide. Maybe the rest of the day wouldn't be so bad? - Tom relaxed on the bed. watching his rabbit nibble pellets from his palm, snickering at the rabbit tickling him with his nose and whiskers. He half expected Marco would call to check up on him, but he hadn't. But then again he was probably busy at school, and apparently earth schools considered phones to be a distraction. "At least You're here to keep me company.....", He said, "Goofball....." He picked up his rabbit and put him back into his cage, Marshmallow burrowed under the bedding and Tom trotted back to his bed. He was still wearing Marco's hoodie and frankly he refused to take it off, no wonder Marco wore this thing so often. Tom buried his nose into it, resting and enjoying it as he laid back down. He felt very at home now, like he can finally sleep. Then he snapped his eyes open. He sat up, blushing and extremely embarrassed, he pulled Marco's hoodie off of him. He'd been sniffing Marco's hoodie, inhaling his scent. His best friend. He threw it back under the bed, trying to process the fact that he even did that to begin with. If Marco had walked in and caught him doing that it would be mortifying, a wave of cold hit him again and he desperatly wanted to grab the hoodie and put it back on again. But he couldn't. Yes, he liked Marco, but he didn't......he never.... Not since......The blood moon ball The memories of the ball flooded in fast and he followed his usual first instinct, which was to push them away. He rubbed his head, dumb move, very dumb move. Marco was his best friend, and if he kept acting like this, he wouldn't be for much longer. Tom didn't need a repeat of Star again, not another friend lost because he couldn't be the perfect boyfriend. Because he was so bad when he had crushes. Star was a prime example of that, he could try to be cool all he wanted, but half the time he felt like he never really did impress her at all. Not to mention how unhealthy his crush was, Marco had to convince him to move on before he did anything else stupid. And losing Marco was guaranteed to be much more painful then when he broke up with Star. He and Marco shared everything together, He lived with Marco, Marco talked to him about things he could've never brought up with Star, Marco's hugs made him feel safe.... His world would crash beneath him. Tom fell back on the bed, this isn't what he wanted to think about today, no no no. His mind, just had to leap to this strange idea of him dating Marco. He tried to calm himself down, he was fine. He was just jumping to conclusions again, Tom knew he got attached to people easily and he was probably just this way because he really did like Marco and Marco was apart of his home on Earth. Even Star, who once teased him being Tom's date, was being jokey. He felt better reassuring himself, it was all too common of him to freak out and assume things, and he was making a big deal out of something small. He didn't think of Marco that way and that was final, he was just being stupid. Marshmallow poked his head out from under his bedding to stare at the embarrassed mewman. "Don't look at me like that...", Tom grumbled. Then his mirror started ringing, starting him, he almost fell off the bed. Starship is Calling... His stomach fell, he hadn't been expecting that. Why would Star be calling him? He was sure she probably blocked his number ages ago. He stood up and trotted his way over to his mirror, and awkwardly answered it. "Hello?" Star stood in front of him shyly, Tail practically between her legs, Tom wasn't sure what to say after their last meeting. "Hi Tom...." "Star?" She crossed her arms, "I'm glad I caught you, I wasn't kinda really sure when to call, since I didn't know when you'd be here and if you still allowed me to call, or if mirrors still worked on earth, or if i'd be interrupting something or-" "Star, it's ok.....I-I I'm here sick today...", He looked at his feet, "Marco is at school, so i'm just kinda by myself......" "Oh...", She bit her lip, "Ok..." There was a moment of awkward silence, Tom shifted in place a bit, "So....what do you want?" "I wanted to talk.....a bit...", She started, "I'm sorry things have been kinda rough for you lately...." "It's not uncommon....", Tom muttered, shrugging, "Just my life I suppose....." "Well....I-I...I wanted to say, I-I uh.....I...If you need anything...I wanna help...", She sighed, "I-I'm not open to being your girlfriend but.....If you...need a friend? " Tom looked up, a noticeable blush on his face,"Y-You wanna be friends? What came up?" "I've been thinking lately....and....I know things have been rough between us, but...I wanna be an ear, if you need someone to talk to ok?", She pulled on her hair, "I wasn't great in the past when you were upset and I just wann-" "Star...", Tom said, "It's ok....y-you don't have to do that..." "I know, I just...Want to....I don't have to..but...I wasn't there for you then, and I don't wanna run away from it anymore.....", The demon relaxed and gave a small smile, "I'm sorry, Things went bad between us...and...I really didn't want to make you feel like...I hated you or anything.." "Star..." "We weren't the best couple but...things should've ended better between us...." "Star it's ok..I-I tried to push back into a relationship that was already gone.....and I shouldn't have...", Tom said, "You don't have to beg for forgiveness or feel bad for me, It's....you're not obliged to return my feelings or talk to me again if you don't want to-" "Tom.....it's your Dad...", Star interrupted, finally spilling the beans, "Mom talked to him yesterday, and....did he really threaten to hurt Marco?" Tom stiffened in place, he felt sick again, "Ho-how...what?" "Demon Magic...", Star mumbled, "Tom, Marco means the world to you....and if anything happens to him....I-I don't.....I wanna help, I don't want you to be....because I wasn't..." "I get it...", Tom said, "Just....don't tell Marco....I-I don't want him to worry.....not unless he has to know..." "Ok.." She looked like she had something else to say, and Tom motioned her to go on. "He's bonded to you Tom, Your dad doesn't know....does he?" Tom felt his stomach drop again, she just HAD to bring up the ball again, he'd tried to bury that night in his mind since it happened. He'd almost forgotten about it. And today, it managed to come back full force and refuse to go back under the rug. "N-No...he doesn't..." Tom knew a bit about the moon, or at least, he knew enough. At the time he was a bit awestruck, being chosen with Marco under the moon, dancing together so awkwardly. He had never looked at Marco like that before, never once, and after it happened he told himself he never would. That he would never let himself lose another friend. He stopped talking about demon culture entirely after that in fact, because the dance between him and Marco just wasn't....it wasn't right. The Moon was wrong. and now, dancing with Marco has re-entered his mind once again, and he felt himself grown warm. She brushed her long blonde hair out of her face, "I'm sorry this was uh..." Tom snapped out of his thoughts to focus on the matter at hand, Star. "No Star....I-It means lot to me, that you care...that you care about Marco.....that you care about me...", he managed a sad smile, "I-I just....thanks for calling, it means a lot to me that you're willing to do so much....you don't have to.." She grinned, "Well, what are friends for?" Tom gave her a matching grin. "Just...if you need anything...call me, ok?" "Yeah, and Star??" Star looked up, "Hmm?" His face grew stern, "If My Dad talks about Marco again, tell me.....please?" "If my mom finds anything....yeah..", she gave him one last look, "I hope you feel better soon....bye Tom." "Bye Star...", the call ended. Tom felt speechless after that conversation, Star wanted to be friends again, which was kinda cool, he wasn't expecting that; But then again his expectations were usually always very low. However, the idea of his dad talking about Marco just made him shiver, he tried to clear his head, he couldn't get angry again. But the Moon, the moon..... It had to have done something to him, that's when this began right? That was when he started doing this to Marco, and now that it was brought up, and now that his Dad had Marco in his thoughts, it was something he couldn't just bury again. He fell onto the sheets, face first, why couldn't his life be much simpler? He gripped the mattress, trying in all his power not to get angry, to not get angry at the idea of his father touching marco, hurting him, using him to make Tom break. Tom swore under his breath, if his father laid one hand on  Marco.... But then he calmed down at the thought of seeing Marco again and Marco hugging him tightly in his arms. A feeling he was now starting to think of differently after wearing Marco's hoodie, and that alone made him feel sick. "What's wrong with me....", He mumbled into the sheets. Sometimes he wished he could turn off his emotions. - Marco and Jackie hung out the rest of the school day, it was a welcome surprise to Marco frankly. He, and his crush, were hanging out, and she actually even seemed to really like him. She laughed at his jokes, listened to what he said, and she didn't even think he was weird or awkward at all!! Today wasn't actually as bad as he was thought. By the end of the school day, he and Jackie actually exchanged numbers!! This was more then he could've hoped for. But eventually the bus came and he needed to head out while she needed to skate home. "Thanks for keeping me company today...", Marco said, not really looking at her in the eyes, trying to hide his obvious blush. "Hey, it's no problem , I had fun today...", She put on her helmet, "Tell Tom I hope he gets well soon.." "Of course!!", Marco replied, "Hopefully his bug will die down soon and he'll be back on his feet..." "We should all hang out sometime.." Jackie suggested, "Call me and we could all see a movie together ok?" "Y-Yeah, that sounds wonderful!", he replied all too quickly, but Jackie didn't care, she waved at him and skated off as he boarded the bus to go back home. By the time he was dropped off, Marco had a new skip in his step. He dropped his backpack off in his living room and waved to his parents, pulling out Tom's classwork out and heading upstairs to check up on his sick friend. "Tom, i'm home!!", the human knocked on his friend's door, "Can I come in?" He heard a grumbled from the other side telling him "Fine". Marco opened the door and found his friend covered in blankets, hiding from the world. Marco carefully pulled them off his face, "Hey Tom, How are you feeling...." Tom tried to avoid eye contact, "Not much better...." Marco sat Tom's work on the nightstand next to the boy's bed, "I can go make some soup if you want? Have you eaten at all today? I don't want you to feel any worse..." Frankly it wasn't his illness that was making Tom feel worse, but all the emotions and thoughts that made him feel sick. The confusing emotions to sniffing Marco's hoodie, and fear and anger at his father, the awkwardness of Star wanting to be his friend again... His head hurt even worse then it did before. "I-I guess if you want to.....", Tom mumbled, "I'm pretty hungry.." Marco smiled at him gently, "Ok, i'll bring you some food and we can work on your homework together, sound good?" Tom mumbled something Marco took as a "Fine" The human stood up, and almost headed out before stopping, "Oh, and Jackie wishes you the best of luck with getting better!!!". This made Tom sit up, looking at Marco curiously now, "What do you mean, y-you talked to Jackie today?" Marco turned towards his friend, blushing, "Well, we uh...yeah, more then before....we spent some school time today, it was REALLY cool, she's really cool. She actually asked if we all could hang out sometime, It was pretty awesome, I just....wow...". Tom blinked a few times, Marco's day was so much better, while his felt worse. He could hear little voices in his head trying to tell him that Marco had this day because he wasn't there, but he tried to push them back. Marco looked so happy, he didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want to ruin his perfect day. "T-That sounds great Marco....", Tom mumbled, "I-I'm glad things are working out between you two...." He didn't miss you at all That's not true He's gonna replace you with Jackie, he's gonna find her cooler then you and leave you just like everyone always does. Marco is different You said the same thing about Star Marco isn't Star, Marco is not like Star How can you be sure? "Yeah..", Marco grinned ear to ear, "Tom, I gotta thank you..." "For What?", Tom snapped out of his thoughts. "For coming to earth...", He answered simply, "If it wasn't for you, Jackie and me might not have even hung out, I might never have gotten to see so many cool places, Heck, who knows how boring my life would be without you!" His stomach dropped for what he could assume was the millionth time today. Tom could feel himself grow warm under his smile, he was always happy and cheerful when Marco complimented him considering he wasn't used to being praised. But this time it felt different, he wasn't sure how to describe it, he just knew it was.....different. "Well.....my life would be kinda boring too....without you...", Tom managed to get out, "Earth is nice.....you're nice..." Marco walked forward and gave Tom a quick hug, and Tom hesitantly hugged him back. Tom even noticed the way he was holding Marco was off, like he couldn't hug him properly. That was odd, he hugged Marco plenty of times before, what made this one any different then the last? Then hit hit him, Marco's familiar scent quaffed over him, making him remember the hoodie incident and blush. What happened to him? What in the world did that moon do to him? Tom started to cough a little bit, startling Marco. Marco removed himself quickly from his friend, not wanting to get sick too. "Right, Soup!! I'll be right back!!" He ran out of the room, still smiling. Tom watched him leave, conflicted on how to feel at the moment. Today had been an emotional roller coaster for him, and right now he wanted to think about anything else, or maybe just go numb for awhile and turn off his cruel brain. But these thoughts were not going to simply vanish, and he knew it. He was going to have to find a solution.