#congratulations on 50 followers dude!!

[rudnitskaia]

AAAAAAAAA~~~💖💖💖

Thank you, thank you, thank you, dude, both for your birthday wishes and for your art!! You did amazing job, everyone looks awesome, and I'm so honored you choose to draw my dear girl among these wonderful OCs, I can't stop screaming (/pos)! ✨😭✨

Squeeze you tightly in hug ~💖

The LackaOCs of this blog's biggest fans :3 Part 1(According to Tumblr)(Hoping Tumblr won't mess up the quality lol pls just zoom in if it does :'))

Amber Humble - @yanci-indigo

Flynn Mulligan - @realbouru

Lucio - @mivanti03

Benjamin Heller - @aghostnamedcalamity

Maura Venza - @rudnitskaia (Advanced Happy Birthday btw!)

And to my other follower and mutuals I really appreciate all the support y'all gave me! Which is why I'll be drawing some of y'alls OCs on my sketchbook : )

[crixaflamma-the-second]

🍎 - https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2439112

congratulations on 50 followers my guy!!!! you deserve it ong ily 🥹🫡🫡🫡🫡

thank youuuuu ily too :)

boom shaka laka my dude

the hair was based on your icon btw

[maxwell-grant]

So yesterday was my birthday and I invited a friend over to watch some movies we’d been each putting off. He showed me They Live, which I’d somehow never seen, for the first time, and I repaid the favor by breaking his brain with Speed Racer and letting him see how everyone ever was 100% wrong about that movie at release and it is in fact the best thing ever, but in regards to They Live:

I expected a good time and had a really great one. I knew about it’s central alien allegory, and how it’s been co-opted by anti-semitic memes and right-wingers who think they’re being cute. I knew it inspired dialogue in Duke Nukem, I knew it was a John Carpenter film starring Roddy Piper with Keith David in it, and that was it. I was blissfully unaware of everything else, including the fact that it somehow winds up being a spiritual successor of “The Challenge of the Beyond”, the pulp writer round robin exercise nowadays most famous for it’s H.P Lovecraft - Robert E.Howard parts.

There’s a post on it that floats around regularly and I’ll link here for better explanation, but in short: Lovecraft’s section of this story had the protagonist George faint from terror constantly and go mad after turning into a giant alien centipede, which was followed by Robert E.Howard immediately retconning said madness in his opening line and having the character embrace his new life as a horrid centipede beast in a new planet and go on a conquering rampage of “titanic adventure” as George the Centipede Barbarian. I bring up George the Centipede Barbarian not because it’s funny, but because They Live intentionally pulled off a very similar kind of brutal tonal dissonance.

They Live is very comparable to The Thing in the sense that it is a 50s concept told through 80s filmmaking and distorted accordingly, to the extent that the black and white parts are not just colored differently, but shot differently from the rest of the film in a way that’s far more reminiscent of 50s horror films. Our protagonist is an 80s meathead cowboy who lives in a struggling urban landscape with mysteries and horrors he never quite understood but continue to plague him and those around him, and he has a moment of truth when he puts on magical sunglasses and finds out that he’s been living in a Twilight Zone episode the whole time, and so has everyone. The black and white allegorical terrors won and have been running everything all along, and that is the point the episode should end with our protagonist horrified and broken, “wouldn’t that be fucked up / doesn’t this remind you of something / these horrors are real” message conveyed, episode over.

Except our protagonist is an 80s meathead cowboy, so instead of surrendering to the horrors after finding out everything is a monstrous lie, he fights back with a shotgun and a bag of one-liners. Dude just immediately, like not even 10 minutes after he first puts on the glasses, starts blasting alien cops and bankers and spaceships. I really did not think that “bubblegum” one-liner happened that early in the movie. This dissonance would have been wonderful regardless but it helps that it’s done so intentionally.

I really didn’t expect that the movie was this 100% completely blatantly unsubtle about the true nature of the alien ghouls as bloodsucking capitalists. It’s not some veiled allegory that can be left to interpretation, the movie tells you repeteadly and explicitly what it is about. The film tells you that the aliens are weaponizing communist paranoia to gain control over cops, preceding a line “We'll do anything to be rich” and then a description of them as “They are free enterprisers. Earth is just another developing planet, their third world” is actual dialogue from the film and that’s just before we learn the aliens all wear expensive watches, that most of the cops going around brutally gunning down the resistance are humans who sold out, and get scenes of the aliens and humans standing around in suits congratulating each other on profit margins. I don’t meant this as an insult but it’s frankly cartoonish in how unsubtle it is, it’s insulting that John Carpenter even had to set the record straight with Yes This Was About Capitalism and Reagan and Yuppie Bloodsuckers You Stupid Fucks like the movie isn’t hammering the point constantly.

If you haven’t watched it, did anyone ever tell you that the inciting incident of the movie is the protagonist being radicalized by police brutality? Yeah, funny, nobody ever talks about what happens in the movie before George puts on the sunglasses. The first 20 or so minutes are about the protagonist, George Nada, arriving in the city and struggling to find a job or place to stay and being offered one by Keith David’s character Frank, who takes him to a homeless community. They have a handful of dialogues together where Frank repeteadly expresses a cynical viewpoint towards life under You-Know-What, over opportunities turning into traps and steel mills giving themselves raises by screwing workers over, and George brushes him off stating he still believes in America, he still believes in getting a fair shot.

George is quickly and immediately reduced to horrified bystander as the police storms his community and destroys their church and goes around beating up them up and evicting tents by bulldozer, while George runs around trying to help and save at least one of them. The next time we see him, he puts on the sunglasses and learns the awful truth and starts his rampage (framed in no uncertain terms as an act of revolution) by doing, what else, shooting cops. Or, well, aliens who approach him as cops and tell him that, now that he sees them, they can work out a deal to profit together if he just goes quietly. The movie makes it as obvious as it could possibly make it.

So yeah, watch They Live, it’s Duke Nukem vs The Twilight Zone’s Episode on Capitalism (with Extended “Guys Being Dudes” Action, I’m glad I didn’t know about that alleyway fight scene beforehand). Also watch Speed Racer, it’s glorious, and it has the exact same villains. Had a really great time yesterday with both.

[joshua-beeking]

Hey there! I've been following and absolutely loving your art and hot takes on Dion and Terence! I can't imagine how great it must feel to have the VA reference and support your art. Congratulations on being awesome! Anyway, I was writing something in the fandom and had a scene sketch I can't use that I thought you'd enjoy: While Dion is away, Terence and some key Dragoon leaders play cards and drink one evening in the command tent. They share stories of those they've bedded recently and swap vulgar jokes freely, but Terence, ever proper stays quiet, knowing his relationship with Dion is an open secret. They urge Terence to be open and comfortable with them because he's their friend, and Terence, seeking an end to the annoying 'one of us' talk just says something like "It's not that I prefer men. It's that I didn't think you'd want to hear about how I took your Lord Commander Bahamut on this very map table last week." And then some young up and coming Dragoon looks at him in awe and announces that "Prince Dion might be an Eikon but Sir Terence is a legend."

That's extremely sweet of you, thank you!! It has been a wild ride, ahaha! You should have seen me among my friends at the night of the panel streaming, I let out a couple of undignified sound I will admit!

He got my seal of approval, he's a tremendously kind dude aha, I'm very touched he liked my works!

As for your idea:

I would have loved to draw it if my drawing ideas list wasn't already 15 ideas long! Considering how the knights act at Northside, I have noooooooo problem seeing that actually happening ahah

Terence is the real MVP of the game, let's face it. He's in a relationship with the prince of an empire/the most beautiful man of Valisthea/ the strongest Eikon outside Ifrit Risen AND was the one to confess. guy got more courage than 50 000 soldiers.

[ranposgirlboss]

Hii^^ Congratulation on 50 followers!!! Could I request a written romantic bsd match up?

Sexuality: pansexual (but I would like a match up with one of the guys if it's okay^^)

Likes: crosswords, cats, rainy&cloudy weather, energy drinks, reading, cosmology, urban legends, long walks, music, powerlifting, shopping sprees

Dislikes: coffee, intense smells, small spaces, geometry, loud noises, bright lights, childish & know-it-all & reckless ppl

Personality: a rather nice, slightly weird loner. a bit too loud for her own good. i'm a pretty chill, collected person who works well with everyone and is always there if anyone needs an advice or opinion. i don't have many friends, getting into any close relationships is kinda hard for me (but if i do, i stay with that person for ages). i barely speak but if i like you and we're in a quiet place i can rant about my interests for hours. i'm that friend you call at 3 in the morning because u did sth stupid and now u need help. and i will get there (after spending 30min screaming at u for how dumb u are and telling u that there's no way i'm getting out of my house rn) no matter how far you could be

Thank you in advance!♡ Hope you're doing well, have a nica day!^^

OMW TO SPEEDRUN THE MATCHUPS REAL >:)

WRITTEN MATCHUP...

POE

MY DUDE IS SPITTIN SOME BARS!! anyways, i put yall together bc i think its super cute!!!! I CAN ALSO SEE HIM GETTING INTO COSMOLOGY IF HE HAD AN S/O WHO WAS INTO IT. yall would read sm about urban legends REAL- also, i saw that you like shopping sprees. poe is very rich :)

THANKS FOR THE REQ!!

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

*

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

*

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

*

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

*

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

*

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

*

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

*

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

[intheticklecloset]

Big Windup Coffee Shots #1-10

A collection of the Big Windup sentence starters/coffee shots I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories. Most are Mihashi/Abe centered.

~~~

1) Lee Abe, Ler Mihashi

“Yes,” Abe said absentmindedly, then realized who he was talking to and quickly retracted. “I mean, no!”

Tajima smirked at him. “Well, which is it? Yes or no?”

“Y-Yes, but…” Abe hesitated. He glanced around the dugout. Everyone was staring at him. “I…I’d rather you didn’t—” Suddenly he felt someone grabbing his sides and ribs from behind, startling a laugh out of him before he could whirl around. He stared incredulously at the perpetrator. “M-Mihashi?!”

Mihashi looked both like he wanted to die and like he had just become the happiest person on Earth. “Y-You’re ticklish, too, Abe?”

“Obviously!” Abe snapped. He didn’t usually try to intimidate the poor kid, but he most certainly was now. “Don’t touch me like that again!”

Then someone else hooked their arms under his, immobilizing him in an instant. Abe recognized Tajima’s voice as he told Mihashi to “get him!”

The pitcher hesitated for only a moment, then seemed to muster up his courage and go for it, reaching for his sides and ribs again.

Abe brought a knee up to try and defend himself, but standing on one leg while he was being tickled just wasn’t happening, and he quickly realized his only option was to surrender at this point. He tried to hold back his giggles as he did his best to snap, “K-Knohohohock it ohohohoff!”

“Get him, Mihashi!” Tajima countered, chuckling into the catcher’s ear. “Go for his hips – I bet he’s really ticklish there!”

“Don’t!” Abe barely had time to cry out before Mihashi was blindly following instructions, hitting – as Tajima had guessed – one of his worst spots with unpracticed but effective tickles. The catcher finally gave up the fight and laughed freely, struggling in their cleanup batter’s grip. “Stohohohohohop! Mihahahahahashi, plehehehease!”

Mihashi’s face turned bright pink and he quickly backed away, having reached his bravery limit for the day. Tajima let Abe go, ruffling his hair. “You should laugh more, dude! It’s a nice sound.”

Abe couldn’t bear to make eye contact with his pitcher. He covered up his mouth with the palm of his hand, grinning into it. Dang it, Tajima…!

*

2) Switches Hanai and Tajima

Tajima had started a new game during his off-time in the dugout, and he was having a blast with it. It had started as an accident; he’d meant to poke Hanai to get his attention, but Hanai turned just as his finger pressed into his spine, and the movement of his turning made Tajima’s finger slide down a little, drawing a startled yip out of the center fielder.

It was obvious it had been ticklish, and now Tajima wanted to know how many of his other teammates shared that reaction.

Mihashi was obvious. He jumped and yelped as he did all the time. It was nothing unusual for him to react so strongly. The others, though? The others didn’t seem to even notice. Five his teammates only jumped from surprise, or sometimes didn’t jump at all. They’d just turn to look at him oddly, and the conversation would flow onward like it hadn’t happened.

The only other two who seemed to react like it had tickled (besides Hanai and Mihashi) were Sakaeguchi and Oki. Having finished his rounds, Tajima decided to return to where it all began, finding excuses to swipe a finger down Hanai’s back any chance he got, making him yelp and flush and sometimes even giggle. Tajima was always keeping Hanai on his toes, but the team captain decided it was just about time for the tables to be turned.

One afternoon during a practice game against a neighboring school, Hanai snuck up behind Tajima and swiped a finger down his back in retaliation. He wasn’t disappointed when the cleanup hitter whirled around, a wobbly smile on his lips.

Hanai smirked. “So it tickles you, too, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, so?”

“It seems to me like you were asking for someone to try this on you.”

“Was not.” Tajima shrugged. “It was an accident, but then I had fun with it, so I kept messing with you guys. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Well, since I’ve got you all wound up now, allow me to help you relax.” Hanai grabbed Tajima’s ribs and pressed his fingers in, drawing a squealing giggle from his smaller teammate.

“Hanai! Wahahait, I’m not tehehehense!”

“Yeah, but I’m having fun with it, so I’m just going to keep messing with you.” The center fielder couldn’t help but chuckle himself at the silliness of it all. “Serves you right for being so cocky all the time.”

“Hahahahahanai!” Tajima cried, but he was beaming, and neither of them made any move to put an end to their newfound fun.

*

3) Lee Mihashi, Ler Abe

“Mihashi,” Abe grumbled, “you’ve got to sleep.”

“I can’t,” Mihashi whined back, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’m trying to. I’ve been lying awake this entire time.”

Abe frowned. He’d woken up in the middle of the night and rolled over to see Mihashi staring at the ceiling, looking exhausted but still wide awake. He propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at the pitcher. “This isn’t like the nights before Mihoshi. Why are you so worked up?”

“It’s just…t-this team we’re playing…they’re really good.”

“And?”

“So I’m n-nervous that they’ll hit all my pitches.”

“They won’t.” Abe sighed. “Don’t you trust me by now?”

Mihashi looked at him in surprise, wide-eyed. “Of course I do! I trust you, Abe.”

“Then go to sleep.”

“It’s…it’s not that simple. Not for me.”

Abe was getting tired of this conversation. He sighed heavily and rolled over so he was sitting on Mihashi’s legs, yanking his blanket down to get at his ribs and underarms, tickling lightly. “Then let’s make it simple.”

“Eeep!” Mihashi squeaked, first trying to push Abe’s hands away, then opting to cover his mouth with them to keep his laughter quiet for the others in the room. He wiggled and giggled, begging as softly as he could. “Nohohohohoho! Abe, stohohohohop!”

“Not until I tire you out so much you can’t help but fall asleep.” Despite himself, Abe smirked at Mihashi’s smiling face, worming his fingers into his underarms and wiggling deep. Mihashi nearly launched himself off his bedroll for how hard he spasmed, laughter pouring from him in waves. Still, he kept his mouth covered up, determined not to wake anyone else.

“Plehehehehease! It tihihihihickles, Abe!”

“That’s kind of the point.”

Abe kept it up, kept tickling for several minutes until Mihashi’s giggles grew so tired he could barely get them out. When he finally let up and helped cover his pitcher in his blanket once more, it took less than a minute for his anxious friend to finally begin snoring. Abe smirked, satisfied, and Mihashi slept through the night with a smile on his face.

*

4) Lee Abe, Ler Mihashi

The bases were loaded, there were two outs, it was the bottom of the fifth inning, and the score was tied. But no one in the dugout was paying attention to that. Well, except for the coach, of course. All the boys who weren’t out on the field were staring at Abe, who had just let out the loudest shriek any of them had ever heard.

The poor catcher was blushing, too, which only made everyone stare harder.

Tajima wiped mirthful tears from his eyes, having been sent into hysterics laughing over the sound Abe let free. “You’re really that ticklish, huh?” he teased, patting him on the back. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time your temper flares up, buddy.”

“Shut up!” Abe snapped, shoving him away and turning his eyes back to the game. He ran a hand through his hair in embarrassed frustration but seemed determined to not be bothered by the stares around him.

Gradually the other boys turned back to the game as well, but even when Izumi hit a ground ball to advance Oki to home plate and take the lead, Mihashi’s focus never left his catcher. He hovered behind him nervously, working up the courage to take action. He’d really liked that sound; he wanted to hear it again, but he didn’t want to make Abe mad at him.

Then again, Abe was mad at him a lot.

As everyone congratulated Oki upon his reentering the dugout, Mihashi climbed up to stand beside Abe and grabbed his ribs from behind just as Tajima had done a moment ago, and just as he’d hoped, another shriek ripped from the catcher’s throat, followed by him whirling on the pitcher.

“Mihashi!”

Mihashi flinched, but surprisingly hung on to his courage long enough to tickle Abe’s ribs from the front this time, pushing him against the railing, trapping him in place.

The catcher’s eyes went wide in the split second before he burst into laughter, feeling the heat of his blush on his cheeks and ears. “Mihahahahahahashi! Stohohohohohohohop! We’re in the mihihihihiddle of a gahahahahahame!”

But no one else seemed to mind the fun scene unfolding before them. The other boys smiled and laughed along with him as Mihashi kept it up, too addicted to the sound of Abe’s helpless giggles to show mercy now.

*

5) Lee Mihashi, Ler Abe

“Did you just lie to me?”

Mihashi froze, eyes wide. Abe glared at him. “N-N-No…”

“Shino’oka told me that she gave you three rice balls instead of two, like I asked.” The catcher’s voice was even, but his eyes were hard. “And then you ‘politely declined’ the third one.”

“I…I didn’t…w-want to have…more than the rest of the team,” Mihashi managed, doing his best to get the words out despite his fear he was about to get yelled at. “I d-didn’t know you a-a-asked her to give me t-three…”

Abe leaned in close to his face. “She said she told you and you still refused to eat it.”

Mihashi gulped, averting his eyes. “I d-didn’t want to b-be unfair to the others.”

“This isn’t about fair or unfair. It’s not like we’re in a war and these rations are critical. It’s an extra rice ball to help you regain the weight you keep losing. You can’t go below 50, Mihashi. You’re small enough as it is.” Abe sighed angrily, standing up to his full height. “You know what I have to do now that you not only refused the extra food – which I know you can eat – but then lied to me about it.”

The pitcher flinched, expecting Abe to start yelling. Instead he felt fingers in his ribs and he burst into surprised laughter before he could even think about trying to reign it in. “Ahahahahahaha! A-Abe?!”

“I can feel your ribs, dude. This is ridiculous,” Abe growled, tickling him even harder, fingers pressing into the grooves between his ribs, making him cackle hysterically despite himself. “You’ve got to eat more! The next time Shino’oka gives you extra food, eat it. No one is going to beat you up for it. We all know you need to gain the weight.”

Mihashi grabbed his wrists, trying to pry him off but far too weak to do so. “Plehehehehease, Abe! S-Stohohohohop, I’m r-reheheheally t-t-tihihihihihicklish!”

Somehow, hearing those words seemed to calm the catcher just a bit. He smiled a little, his voice softening. “Are you, now? Then you should have no problem remembering this lesson the next time you feel like ‘politely declining’ an extra serving.”

*

6) Lee Tajima, Ler Abe

“Ehehehehehehahaha! Ahahahahabe, why?!” Tajima squealed, barely able to hold himself up with one arm while the other reached across his torso to try and pry the catcher’s fingers from his lower ribs. Ten seconds ago he’d been doing sit-ups, and now his normally serious teammate had his legs trapped so he couldn’t even kick him away.

Abe allowed a tiny smirk. “I’ve kind of gotten used to doing this to Mihashi when he’s out of sorts. Which is a lot, to be fair. I didn’t really think about it, but I do think you need it.” He reached his other hand over now, leaning on Tajima’s shins to grab at his hips and squeeze.

Tajima giggled hysterically, his arm shaking from the effort to keep himself up, desperately trying to grab his tickler’s arms to try and ease the sensations even a little. “Stohohohohohohop! I d-dohohohohohon’t need you to t-tihihihihickle me!”

“Aren’t you the one always pushing us to tickle each other during games when we’re too worked up to focus?” Abe mused, sliding up to his lower ribs, pressing his thumbs into the place where they met his belly. “Do you ever consider that the tables could be turned on you at any time?”

“Of cohohohohohohourse! But we’re nohohohohot plahahahahahaying a gahahame right now!” Tajima finally gave up on trying to stay upright in favor of using both hands to try and grab Abe’s wrists to stop him. “Quihihihihihit it! Ahahahahahabe!”

The catcher quirked a brow, more and more curious the longer this went on. Tajima had to have a spot…right? Everyone did. “Nah, you know what? I’m having too much fun to stop now. I want to find your spot first.”

Tajima’s eyes flew wide open and he suddenly looked both panicked and elated, his giggles bubbling out of him faster than before. Encouraged, Abe smiled at him, hands flying everywhere he could reach, searching for the place that would make their confident cleanup hitter a mess of begging laughter.

Dang it, how did I get roped into this silliness with the rest of the guys? Abe thought, but he didn’t let it stop him. To Tajima he smirked and said, “All right, then. Where’s your tickle spot…?”

*

7) Lee Abe, Ler Tajima

“I think I’m stuck…” Abe muttered, his head and arms still trapped in his too-small undershirt.

Tajima rolled his eyes. “Dude, you knew it was too small when you put it on, and you’ve been suffocating in it all day. Why not just cut it off?”

“Because it’s still a perfectly good shirt. It just doesn’t fit.” Abe sighed. “Someone else can wear it. Can you just get me out?”

The cleanup hitter smirked. He knew he’d never have a more perfect opportunity than this, and he was definitely going to pounce on it while he could. His only regret was that Mihashi wasn’t around to see what was about to happen. Maybe it would help his nerves to see his catcher in stitches.

“Hold still,” Tajima instructed seconds before plunging his fingers into Abe’s sides.

“AIEEE!!” Abe squealed, jerking so hard he lost his footing. Tajima caught him before he fell completely, resuming tickling once he was safe from tumbling to the ground. Abe squirmed, his arms flailing within the small shirt but unable to come down to protect himself. “Stahahahahahahahap! Tajima – gehehehet me out!”

“Let’s count your ribs first,” his mischievous teammate suggested. “That shirt was so tight on you I think one of them might have broken. We can’t have that!”

“My rihihihihihibs are FIHIHIHIHIHINE!!” Abe lost his footing again, this time falling backwards in to Tajima’s waiting arms, and the cleanup hitter wrapped his arms around him in a hug, pressing his fingers deliberately into the grooves of his ribcage. “TAHAHAHAHAJIMA!!”

Tajima ignored his hysterical pleas, counting each set of ribs as he worked his way up to the catcher’s underarms, grinning like the Cheshire cat all the while. Unfortunately for him, once he reached the top of his ribcage and scribbled into Abe’s armpits, his laughter died down, replaced with gasps for air. “Aww, you’re not ticklish here?”

“N-No,” Abe replied breathlessly, trying to twist away. “Quit messing around and get me out of heeeeEEEERE!! NAHAHAHAHAHA TAJIMA!!” The catcher cackled so hard his laughter went silent, his knees wobbling in an effort to stay upright.

“Ooh, good spot, huh?” Tajima teased, wiggling his fingers into Abe’s lower belly, right above his waistline. “If only Mihashi could be here to see this. Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

Abe shrieked with renewed hysterics, struggling against his teammate. “PLEHEHEHEASE!! NO MOHOHOHORE TIHIHICKLING!! JUST GEHEHEHET ME OUT OF HEHEHEHERE!!”

Eventually Tajima let him go, but only after another few minutes of making Abe laugh himself silly.

*

8) Lee Abe, Ler Mihashi

“Hey, Mihashi,” Abe said, coming up behind the pitcher. He’d tried to keep his voice gentle so as not to startle him, but it didn’t seem to do any good, because Mihashi jumped anyway.

“Y-Yeah, Abe?”

The catcher held up a bottle of sunscreen. “This might be a little weird but…everyone else is already in the water and I…kind of need help.”

Mihashi glanced at the bottle, then at Abe, then at the ocean where the rest of the team had already begun swimming. Suddenly it clicked. “Oh! Y-You’re not…going in the water, too?”

“Nah, not for a while. I’d like to just chill for a little while on the beach.” Abe jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “But we didn’t bring umbrellas, so I need to have sunscreen on. I’ve taken care of everything else, but I can’t protect my back on my own.”

“I can do it for you,” Mihashi said, picking up on what his catcher was subtly asking. He reached for the bottle, and Abe handed it to him, turning around.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

Mihashi remained quiet as he uncapped the bottle, squirted some lotion into his hand, and reached for Abe’s back. He hesitated for only a second before pushing through his nerves and beginning to apply the sunscreen, starting from his shoulders and working his way down.

Once he reached the space between Abe’s shoulder blades, however, Abe jerked and let out a noise that made Mihashi freeze in his tracks. “I’m s-sorry, did I – did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, I—”

“Relax, man.” Abe gave him a look that almost seemed…embarrassed? “I’m just ticklish there. I’ll hold still this time, I promise. Just don’t linger, okay?”

“O-Okay.” Mihashi blinked at him. Ticklish? He squirted out more sunscreen and started over, doing his best to be quick about covering his friend’s back with the protective lotion. Abe did stay still as he promised, but he continued to let out little noises and giggles here and there, even squealing once. By the time it was over, the pitcher wasn’t even thinking about it anymore, and he reached his hands around to grab onto Abe’s bare sides, squeezing hard.

“He-eeey!” Abe cried, giggling harder, wrenching himself away and whirling back around to shoot him a half-managed glare. He snatched the bottle back. “You done?”

“Y-Yeah…s-sorry, Abe, I just couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t help yourself. I know, I know.” The catcher ran a hand through his hair, though from frustration or lingering embarrassment Mihashi couldn’t tell. “I’m going to go lie down, unless you need sunscreen, too?”

Mihashi shook his head. “I’m…I’m going in the ocean now.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

Abe took off at a brisk pace to where he’d laid his towel on the sand, and Mihashi didn’t even realize at first that he was smiling after him.

I’m already having fun, he thought, then hurried to the water to where Tajima and the others were waving at him.

*

9) Lee Hanai, Ler Tajima

“If I catch you, I’m going to tickle you,” Tajima said seriously, staring Hanai down with a determined glare.

Hanai jumped, eyes widening. “You…you what?”

“You heard me.” Tajima smirked, putting his hands on his hips. “You challenged me to a race, but we both know I’m faster than you. I’ll let you get a head start, but if I catch you, I’ll tickle you. That should be good motivation for you to own up to your smart mouth, right?”

Hanai just stared at him. He hadn’t considered it a ‘smart mouth’ when he declared he could finally beat Tajima at something, but seeing him like this now made him hesitate a little. “Look, we don’t have to race…”

“Nope! Too late for that!” Tajima made a shooing motion. “Go on. I’ll give you a five second head start. Then I’m coming after you. And if I catch you…”

Hanai turned on his heel and sprinted for the opposite end of the field, heart already racing. What had he done? What had he gotten himself into? What was he thinking, challenging Tajima to anything?

Despite his five second head start, when Hanai dared to glance back Tajima was very nearly barreling for him, and one terrified shriek later the center fielder suddenly found himself face-first in the grass in his own territory, a weight settling on his back.

“Wait! Wahahahahahahait!” Hanai pleaded, bursting into giggles the instant he felt fingers in his sides. He spasmed, trying to roll over or kick his legs or something to get Tajima off of him, but nothing could move the immovable cleanup hitter, and soon the taller boy was shrieking with helpless giggles and pleading for mercy. “Tahahahahajima! Stohohohohohop! Plehehehehehease, you wihihihin!”

Tajima just giggled along with him. “I know. I just really wanted to tickle you, and this was a good excuse. Thanks for helping me out, Hanai!”

Hanai groaned through his laughter. Seriously, what had he been thinking, challenging Tajima to anything?!

*

10) Lee Abe, Ler Mihashi

“Pfffthahahaha – M-Mihahahashi, I – I – ehehehehehehehe!” Abe giggled, sputtering and tripping over his words with embarrassing squeals that made him blush even harder. He fisted his hands into his hair, kicking his legs, using every ounce of strength he had to not stop his pitcher.

Mihashi, for his part, didn’t even realize he was smiling at Abe as he tickled gently, squeezing his sides and skittering over his ribs. He’d never once gotten to be the one to make the catcher smile and laugh like this, and he was enjoying every second of it while he could.

“Mihahahahahashi!” Abe squealed, bringing his arms down instinctively as he trailed downward to his belly. He clutched his fists by his head, trying to hold firm. It had taken everything in him to admit to Mihashi that he wanted to be on the receiving end this time, and he knew it was taking everything in his friend to reverse his role, as well. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it by protesting or actively stopping him. Not when they were less than a minute in.

“Are you o-okay?” Mihashi asked, slowing a little.

Abe was instantly desperate for more. He nodded emphatically. “Yes, I’m fine! Keep g-gohohohohoing – AGH, NO!!” The catcher spasmed, hands flying down to grab Mihashi’s arms, stilling the both of them.

“I’m sorry! I can stop—”

“No!” Abe cried, clutching him harder, making sure he didn’t move. “It’s okay, it’s just…just a reflex, I swear. I’m really…really ticklish there.” The catcher’s face was red as a cherry at this point. “Please. I want to try.”

Mihashi gulped nervously, then pressed his thumbs back into his friend’s lower belly, kneading gently, lighting up when Abe tossed his head back with laughter, kicking even harder than before. After a moment, the pitcher decided for both of their safety he’d better straddle him, so that’s what he did.

Abe’s laughter grew even louder and his eyes widened in surprise. “MIHAHAHAHASHI?!”

“Y-You said you wanted to try,” Mihashi said, switching from using only his thumbs to using all ten of his fingers to tickle Abe’s weak spot, and the catcher gripped his arms even harder as his laughter turned boisterous. “And…well…I do too, Abe.”

[schnitzelbutterfingers]

Baklava

Book/Pairing(s): The Royal Romance || Liam Rhys x F!MC (Jasmine Wilson) LAW STUDENT AU

Category/Warning(s): Teen || none

Word count: 2.7K

Premise: A different take on how Liam and Jasmine could have met. Liam and the gang search for baklava, and Jasmine is a law student and a talented baker, working in her mother’s bakery.

Author’s note: This is for the 200 FOLLOWER GIVEAWAY WINNER #2: @texaskitten30 . Congratulations! Hope you enjoy :)

New York City is known for its culture, fashion, Broadway musicals. Its approximately 8 million people.

Maxwell sighs. “C’mon, Liam. There are so many other desserts. Pie, cake, cupcakes, those drizzled thingies...”

He is right. The deserts here are magnificent. Every one of them is fireworks on someone’s tongue, the rich flavor evading the mouth.

Drake surprises him. “For once in my life, I’m going with Beaumont.”

But there is one thing New York City seems to not have.

“No,” Liam responds.

Baklava.

Maxwell open his mouth, but then closes it, flabbergasted. 

“Who are you, and what have you done to Prince Liam?”

The prince chuckles wryly, a sarcastic leer taking place. In a few months, he won’t be able to do this again. In a few months, he will marry a noble with no love in between. 

In a few months, his freedom will be over.

He has to make those few months worth it.

And he will.

By finding baklava.

However, Liam almost gives up. Every bakery they went to in New York City had everything, including Indian sweets, such as laddu, gulab jamun, jalebi.

But they weren’t selling anything from the Ottoman Empire. They weren’t selling baklava.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a small building. A bakery. It has a small cupcake on the top of the name. 

The prince clears his throat.

“We’ll stop in this bakery. If they don’t have baklava either, then we can go buy cupcakes and go to a bar.”

Maxwell fist bumping the air and Drake sighing of relief, tells him they are both comfortable with his plan.

One more bakery.

That’s it.

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

Slow Dough.

That’s the name of the bakery. Immensely creative.

The three men step out of their rented car, the sun’s rays showing off its magnificent light, creating shadows as they take each step towards the bakery.

They open the door, the jingling bells on it acknowledging their presence.

It looks beautiful. The inside of the store takes on a more pastel theme, the baby pink with white stripes adorning the walls. There are sky blue tables and chairs, adorned with a vase of pink roses on each table.

The front of the bakery has a glass counter-shelf, filled with delicacies. Cupcakes, cookies, chocolate, ice cream. You name it.

Maxwell seems to have that same idea because he says, “Maybe we can steal some cronuts and-”

“Maxwell!” Drake admonishes.

“Hello? What is the commotion here?”

A woman, probably in her fifties, with natural tanned skin, paces into the room from the silver doors ahead of the counter, which Liam assumes is the kitchen. Rather than taking a chiding tone, her voice is laced with concern.

Liam glares at his two friends, Maxwell sporting a nervous smile. Drake shakes his head at Maxwell’s antics.

What good friends he has.

“Apologies for the loud... conversation ma’am. We were searching for a dessert named baklava in New York City. We searched almost every bakery we could find, but left empty-handed. We were hoping we would find some here?”

The woman grimaces. “I’m so sorry, son, but we don’t sell baklava here.”

The prince sighs. 

He knew it. Of course he did.

After mentally calming himself, he sports a tender smile.

“No worries, ma’am. In that case, would you mind giving us three cupcakes? One vanilla and the other two chocolate, please?”

“Now that, I can give you.”

She smiles as she opens the counter, probably finding the best cupcakes she could find.

The woman is probably the most solicitous person she ever met during his bachelor party.

The men sit down on of the chairs, surprisingly more comfortable than Liam imagined. They fall into an agreeable silence, with Maxwell playing with one of the pink rose petals, and Drake glued to his phone.

And they are interrupted. By a soft voice.

A beautiful voice.

“Excuse me, sir, but... did you say baklava?”

He stands up immediately to turn towards the voice, addicted to the melody.

And hazel eyes meets blue.

The lady looks like an exact copy of the older woman, only more younger. More irresistible.

Striking.

Even with glasses on.

For some reason, his heart starts beating faster.

Silently scolding himself, he straightens up and nods his head affirmative.

“Yes, is there a reason why you ask?”

“I happen to know how to make baklava. Do you want me to make some for you?”

Shock rolls over him as he mulls over her words. An American tries to help him?

He glances back at Drake and Maxwell. In return, they give him an exact sense of a whammy blown on them. They are probably thinking the same thing, too.

Liam discerns the older woman slapping her hand on her forehead in an almost idiotic sense, walking to stand next to the younger woman.

Twins.

They are practically twins, if people count out the wrinkles.

“Apologies, son. She is my daughter. She knows how to make almost everything.”

Liam softly grins at the mother and turns to look at her daughter. 

A beauty.

As if she came from a painting.

Majestic.

As if reading his thoughts, she takes a glimpse of his face and smiles. He catches a glimpse of a faint blush creeping on her neck, even with the tanned skin.

Liam allows himself a quick smirk and hurriedly straightens his face to a more gentle expression.

“What’s your name?”

She clears her throat and looks at him straight in the eye. “Jasmine.”

Maxwell gives her a wide smile. “Nice name!”

Liam and Drake nod their heads in agreement, looking back at Jasmine. She grins from ear to ear.

Her smile is infectious.

And Liam just met this girl.

“I’ll get started. I can set up a mini cooking show for you guys. This might take over an hour though. So, are you sure?”

Before Liam can respond, Drake interrupts.

“We can wait. This dude, here, was acting like he was waiting for baklava his whole life. If he doesn’t get his hands on one, he’ll probably punch something.”

“Drake!”

Before he can give him a new one, he hears Jasmine’s laughter, music to his ears. He only knew her for about 10 minutes, and something makes him want to get closer to her.

He can see scars sprinkled on her chest.

She’s an air of mystery.

Mystery.

“I can most definitely understand that feeling. I’ll go gather the ingredients!”

She flees like a small human Sonic, and he infers for a second that she did track in school. 

Maybe she did.

Jasmine comes back with nuts, cinnamon, dough, butter, sugar, water, honey, vanilla extract, and a lemon. After buttering up a thick pan, she sprinkles in a bunch of nuts and cinnamon.

Just like those chefs gave him a show and made baklava for him back in Greece.

Maxwell starts speaking, most likely attempting to make small talk during the awkward silence.

“So... where are you originally from?”

She softly smiles.

“Queens, New York. We moved to the city when I was 10.”

“What made you move to the city?”

“Oh, well...”

Jasmine slightly hesitates.

“My father had passed away, and we had to do something for a living. So we started this bakery...”

A tense silence invades the bakery, Jasmine quickly swiping her eyes. Maxwell grimaces, and Drake takes over.

“We’re so sorry. We didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable...”

She shoots him a weak grin. “It’s okay. It still hurts, but we’re trying our best to move on.”

At this point, she places two sheets of dough into the pan, and butters it up. She then layers it with nuts and repeats the process. The prince makes a mental note to remember these steps the next time he attempts in making baklava.

He tried to make baklava once, but failed, even after searching the internet to find the recipe.

It had been proved to his friends how much of a bad cook he is.

Liam attempts successfully in changing the topic, in a way to console her.

“Are you a student or...”

“I am! Final year law student at Yale.”

His eyes widen. “Yale? That’s impressive.”

Her mother comes back from the kitchen. “Wait till you hear how she skipped five grades and will be graduating as a lawyer at the age of 21.”

The gang’s eyes widen.

Wow. 

They’re speaking to mini Albert Einstein.

“Mom!”  The law student covers her cheeks in an attempt to stop the light rose pink that’s flooding her face.

Maxwell smiles wickedly. “That's so COOL! Liam, here, is the same! He managed to even excel better than his tutors. One time, he was making fun of them because they got a calculus problem wrong, and he managed to solve it in less than five minutes! He skipped three grades, but always managed to make tutors mad and made them speak to his parents because of his smart mouth-”

“Maxwell!”

Drake chuckles.

“What? It’s the truth!”

She chortles again. That melodic laugh.

“It’s alright. I did that every time, too.”

Jasmine cuts the baklava into diamond shapes and puts them into the oven. She stretches her arms out, unsubtly displaying off her muscles.

Damn.

“Alright. This’ll take about 50 minutes.”

Comfortable silence flows through all of them, Liam enjoying the clock ticking surrounding the small building.

Drake cuts it off. “We forgot to tell you where we’re from. We live in-”

“Cordonia, I know.”

Liam's breath catches.

A part of him wants to berate himself for being so idiotic. For believing that maybe one person won’t know who he is. But he should have known.

He should have known.

Drake closes his mouth and opens it again, unable to say anything.

“Wait, so you know Liam is a prince?”

“Crown Prince, yeah.”

“Then, why didn’t you let us know and treat us like normal people?”

“Because I know.”

Turning to him, she says, “Liam, all you’ve ever wanted was freedom.”

His eyes widen. He feels like he’s being mind-read by a fortune teller. At that moment he should’ve felt uneasy, but all he wants to do is open more of himself to her.

And that petrifies him.

“How... how do you know?”

Jasmine’s expression turns stoic, indecipherable.

“Your eyes. They express everything. You feel like you’re being locked in a jail cell. I was once like you, you know so I know that look anywhere...”

Her eyes turn misty, but she quickly shakes her head.

“You do want to lead your people, but you want to be free in choosing someone at the same time. You want someone you’ll fall in love with.”

Her educated guess is mind-boggling. Straying his eyes back to his friends, they appear as if they’re seeing Liam in a new light. Shocked.

That they didn’t know anything about this, and they’ve known him for years.

Maxwell shakes his head. “Wait, but... if you knew who we were, why didn’t you address Liam as ‘your highness’? Don’t get me wrong, we liked how you didn’t...”

Jasmine snorts. “Because even through he has royalty flowing through his blood, he is a human, just like us. I don’t mean it to be offensive, I swear. While titles also show respect, they put more benefit for someone than for another ‘commoner’. And I don’t like that.”

Liam becomes curious. Jasmine is not one of those average girls who shrieks over a celebrity. She is one of a kind.

And that makes him want to know everything about her.

“Say if... you became a queen one day. How will you rule?”

The law student takes a deep breath before responding. She unconsciously touches her dark brown hair, and twirls a curl over her finger.

“I... I would never go by the rule book. While rules are good and all, sometimes... it would lead to injustice. As Princess Diana said in her interview with Martin Bashir, I would  want to become a queen of people’s hearts, not just for a country. I would be there to do good, not cause harm or difficulty over another citizen’s life. I’m not a violent person. Quite the opposite, actually. I would want to be treated as a typical person with a typical life. I would want to be treated as an everyday person. And... I would want everyone to reminisce me as a woman who did good works, not as a woman with a prestigious title.”

Everything is confirmed. Drake’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to respond to what Jasmine just said. Maxwell has a goofy grin on his face.

Liam, however, has a cheeky smile that one would actually say is of respect and admiration. He admires her.

Even as she now bites her lip, he wants nothing more press his lips to hers. 

And they’ve only known each other for about an hour.

The oven alarm lowers the mounting tension in the bakery. Jasmine jogs over to the oven and takes it. The delicious smell of baklava invades Liam’s nostrils, and he immediately wants to taste it. Looking at the pastry, the gorgeous crispy brown of the dough stands out, with green nuts garnished.

“Take caution! It’s really hot.”

Maxwell smirks slightly, already reaching for a baklava. “Oh, I don’t think it’s that- HOLY SQUIDS!”

The once smirking Maxwell now has a face of pain etched on his face, holding his right hand after it burned a little. Jasmine, seeing this, snorts.

“Told you so.”

Shaking his head, Liam -carefully- takes  a piece of baklava, blowing it slightly to soothe the heat. Once it is lowered to a considerable heat, he takes a bite out of it and-

My.

God.

It is scrumptious.

And it appears that Drake and Maxwell are thinking the same thing, their friends’ eyes filled with astonishment.

Jasmine bites her lip, most likely unaware of the action. God, if he could just-

“So, did you like it?”

Shaking off his dirty thoughts, he responds, “Like it? This is the best baklava I’ve ever tasted.”

Her wide eyes contain jouissance, Liam can tell.

“Thank you! Glad I didn’t mess it up!”

Jasmine blushes again, something Liam just knows is a rare sight for anyone.

Just then, her mother comes in, sauntering hurriedly up to them. Her eyes are tense and full of worry.

“So... how is the baklava?”

Liam smiles, hopefully soothing her mother with the action.

“I can reassure you, even the most famous chefs in Greece hadn’t made me this tasty baklava before in my life. It tastes like heaven, ma’am. Your daughter has talent.”

She sighs in relief. “Thank you, sons!”

Without hesitance, the mother kisses Jasmine on her cheek, and in return the daughter kisses her on her forehead. The act reminds him of his own mother, before she died.

“How much does this cost?” Drake interrupts.

“This? This is free.”

What?

Liam refuses. “Oh, that’s not possible, we have to give you something-”

Jasmine laughs. “I insist. First of all, this wasn’t even part of the menu, although we do need to add it to ours. Second, you deserve this. For the first time, other than my mother, I felt like someone else got me.”

The words make the prince look at her deeply into her eyes. Jasmine stares back, not one of them blinking. Finally, the law student breaks the contact.

Just then, Drake clears his throat. “I hate to interrupt but we have to leave. Is it alright if we take more of these?”

The mother smiles. “Sure, sweetie! Take as much as you need.”

As Maxwell and Drake grab more of the baklava, Liam goes up to Jasmine.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he says, his tone with a hint of heartache.

She smiles wistfully. “Yeah.”

And they hesitate before hugging one another tightly. Liam closes his eyes, in what could be his last moments of freedom. He makes this time worth it. Jasmine reluctantly pulls back and clears her throat.

“But hey, something tells me we’ll see each other again soon,” she adds, with a hint of a smirk.

And just like that, Liam starts to have second thoughts.

Maybe New York City is not that awful.

Narrator: Jasmine was right in what she said. They will see each other again. And they marry, and they make babies-

Author’s note: First Liam x MC fic lol. I hope I did this some justice HAHA. Anyways, if you’ve made it this far, thank you! ♥️

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Liam x MC: @kingliam2019 @jared2612

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[richiefuckfacetozier]

Why Can't This Be Love

Chapter 1: Here It Comes

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Click to read on Archive 

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Title - Why Can't This Be Love by Van Halen

Dedicated to @slashpalooza and @sam-i-am2468

___

Eddie’s Tuesday started out as it normally did. Half a grapefruit for breakfast, thoroughly shower, text his best friend, Richie, a stupid meme, call Mike to confirm lunch for tomorrow, work from 8am to 6pm, and come home to pour himself a glass of wine. 

Right now he was pouring 4 glasses because around 3:00pm, Beverly called asking if her and Ben could come by to tell him something exciting and that Richie had to be there too. He was not sure what they could possibly want to talk about with the two of them. Eddie tried to push down the anxiety that they might be angry about something. He was pretty sure he didn’t do anything horrible recently, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Richie! Can you help me?” Eddie shouted from the kitchen of his apartment. “I don’t have enough hands to carry everything!”

“Coming, my love!” Richie joked annoyingly. Although Eddie didn’t find it entirely annoying, it’s just Richie being ridiculous. 

His tall friend padded into the kitchen wearing his worn out leather jacket that he thought made him look cool, a print shirt with a meme on it that Eddie didn’t get, and jeans, “I know what they are going to tell us.” Richie stated confidently with a little bounce in his step. 

“Did they tell you already? That’s not fair!” Eddie said in frustration. “They couldn’t wait two more damn minutes?”

“No, I have a guess, Eds.” 

“Don’t call me Eds.”

“I think Ben finally got the courage to propose to Beverly.” Richie went on with a smile. “Or she grabbed him by the balls and told him to do it.”

Eddie snorted at the imagery and wouldn’t put it past Bev to be that aggressive but probably wouldn’t to the love of her life. “That’s wonderful if it’s the news.” 

“I bet you 50 bucks it is,” Richie challenged, “Ben was looking mighty anxious at Bill’s wedding a year ago.” 

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, “I barely remember Bill’s wedding. I was so blackedout.” 

Richie rolled his eyes dramatically, “You were stupidly mourning the loss of Myra the hydra.” Eddie cringed at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. 

“Be nice, Rich.” Eddie frowned. He pulled out a packet of thin mint girl scout cookies for all of them to snack on.  

Richie rolled his eyes as he sipped quickly from the glass of wine, clearly not finished speaking, “I don’t know why either. She was a carbon copy of your mother. Her leaving was the best thing to ever happen to you.” 

“Yes, being extremely single has done wonders for my self-esteem.” Eddie mumbled.

Richie leaned over and flicked Eddie’s nose, “You’re a catch, dummy.” 

He yelped, rubbing his nose and getting goosebumps from their intensely close position. Eddie grabbed the other two glasses, thin mints and turned on his heel to walk out of the kitchen. “Fine, 50 bucks it isn’t an engagement.” 

“Sweet! Also, those pants look good on you.” Richie pointed out following from behind him. 

Eddie’s cheeks heated up a little, he purposely wore these dark navy blue jeans because Richie always compliments them. He wondered if Richie remembered that he did this every time. Eddie doubted it. When it was just the two of them, Richie constantly tried to make Eddie feel special and wanted. Eddie suspected Richie did it because he felt sorry for him, but he couldn’t be sure. Despite knowing his best friend pretty well, he was also a huge enigma. Constantly says whatever is on his mind, does the most spontaneous - borderline suicidal - things, and keeps a smile on his face no matter what he may be feeling. 

They plop down on the couch in Eddie’s living room. His place was what Richie called a ‘clean mess’, probably the best description of Eddie ever said. He had the habit of hoarding things he didn’t really need. Piles of books on every table that he had already read, knick-knacks from trips, more candles than any one person needed on all open surfaces. He had really nice furniture that matched well in a blend of warm colors. Beverly and Ben sat in two mahogany chairs across from them, holding hands. 

Eddie placed the wine glasses on monster movie poster coasters that Richie gifted him years ago when they were teens. They grew up together and remained close throughout the years, regardless of college or moving around. In fact, Eddie had six very close friends from childhood. The group called themselves the Losers Club, a title courtesy of Richie. 

“Thanks, Eddie!” Beverly said nicely. Ben thanked him too. Richie sat beside Eddie, the side of their thighs touching as he scooted closer to hand him wine. Eddie always felt so comfortable around all his friends, they were the only ones he let be touchy with him. He used to hate germs and be easily disgusted by everything, but when the people he was closest with shared food, drinks, and beds with him, that feeling went away gradually. 

“Alright, lads,” Richie started up with a newsies kid accent. “What’s the scoop? Striking Pulitzer again?” 

“Well,” Ben’s round cheeks turned pink as he said, “We’ve got pretty big news.” Eddie observed Ben take both Beverly’s hands into his own big ones. 

Beverly was practically jumping in her seat, her flamming red short curls bouncing against the sides of her face. She shared a big smile with Ben as she blurted out, “WE ARE GETTING MARRIED!”

“FUCK YES!” Richie shouted. He flew off the couch tackling Beverly in a huge hug. 

“Please, don’t hurt my girlfrie-I mean fiancé.” Ben said softly, clearly surprised how much he enjoyed calling her that. 

Eddie got up to hug Ben tightly, saying congratulations. Beverly kissed both men before they sat back down. Eddie raised his glass. “Cheers, to two people who’s friendship, romance, and love are unparalleled.” 

They clinked glasses and drank. Richie bumped Eddie lightly, “Cheers to owing me $50.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie nodded toward the counter. “You can grab it from my wallet before you go home.” 

“You can just buy me dinner this weekend.” Richie waved his hand.

“So Rich, you know what me getting married also means?” Beverly’s eyes shined brightly at him. He looked between her and Ben, thinking. Then dawning flashed on his face. He put his glass down and stood on the couch. 

“Richie, no!” Eddie pleaded desperately. “You are going to fall! Idiot!” 

He jumped up and down like a child discovering Christmas came early. “I AM GOING TO BE DUDE OF HONOR!” 

They all laughed at his excitement. One of the things the losers club decided in their 20’s, after a particularly ugly fight about who would be who’s best man or ‘dude of honor’ in this case, was that each of them would take turns. 

So far, Bill and Stanley had gotten married. To two incredible women, Audra and Patty. Eddie was Bill’s and Bill was Stan’s best man. The rest of the sequence goes: Mike is Richie’s, Richie is Bev’s, Bev is Eddie’s, Stan is Ben’s, and Ben is Mike’s. Mike is fairly confident he won’t get married and neither will Richie, which he says is for the best as he is far too stressed as a person to get married or be a best man. 

Eddie recalled that a huge fight he had with Myra was over Beverly being his Best Woman. She shouted at him for hours that there was no reason a woman should be when he had all these guy friends. Explaining the losers club deal to her did nothing but place fuel on the fire. ‘Sometimes I think you love them more than me!’ Looking back, he most certainly did. Eddie was fairly certain he would always love the losers most in this world. Which furthered the cycle of being horribly single. Sometimes he thought he was in a polyamorous asexual relationship with 6 other people. They were too close.

Richie finished up his jumping and landed on the couch half on Eddie. “OW!” Eddie yelled. “That fucking hurt. You aren’t light enough to plop all your weight on me.” 

Richie slung an arm over Eddie’s shoulders and kissed the side of his face. “Sorry, Eds.”

Eddie wiped his face that got kissed on Richie’s shoulder, pretending to get the germs off. “Have you told everyone else?” 

“We have…” Ben begun slowly. Eddie didn’t like the tone he was using. “Stanley’s already started his best man duties.”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us you’re getting married altogether like Bill and Stan did?” Richie said, seeming to also realize this was odd. 

“Because we have to ask a favor of you.” Ben brought his hand up to start biting his nails the way he did when he was about to deliver bad news. 

“Favor is too nice, babe. This is not a favor or a request. It is a requirement if you both want to be at this wedding.” Beverly let go of Ben’s hand to place it on her knee. She rubbed her thighs once, gearing up to tell them. Eddie had a couple guesses about what she may want to say but nothing prepared him for what it actually was, “You have to bring a date.” 

Eddie leaned back in confusion, realizing Richie’s arm was still around him so it brought them both laying back against the couch. Richie removed his arm and started fidgeting with his fingers. Eddie worried his bottom lip before saying quietly, “Why?” 

Beverly looked to Eddie with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Eddie, but we don’t want a repeat of Stan and Bill’s weddings.”

Eddie’s face immediately turned red with embarrassment. Three years ago, Stanley got married and that was around when he left his mother’s place for the third time. A year later, Bill got married and he had his break up with Myra. On both occasions, Eddie took a bad combination of too many pills and drinking more than he ever had in his life. Resulting in major blackouts and behavior he cannot remember but knows second hand from everyone what happened.

“Why do we both have to have dates?” Richie said, voice a little strained and weird.

Beverly rounded on him with no sympathy. “Because, Richard, when YOU go to weddings you fuck everyone and break shit. A date will keep you focused on that person and not be a chaotic monster with a death wish.”

Richie laughed, “If I want to be fucked by all your bridesmaids at the same time then I should be allowed to do that!”

Beverly’s voice rose higher, “That’s literally not possible, asshole! And the only bridesmaid is Kay McCall.” 

“Damn. Kay’s beautiful but I don’t screw married women.” Richie’s face scrunched up. “Does that make her a bride’s matron?”

“High morals there Richie,” Ben said trying to lighten the mood.

“You know it Ben Handsome.” He winked. 

Eddie sat there trying to word what he wanted to say carefully. As Richie continued to dig himself a deeper hole, “We are getting off-topic. I’m saying if I want to have sex with someone and have a little fun or if Eddie wants to get so drunk he mistakes your grandma for a urinal, then we should have that right.” 

This brings Eddie back, “Richie!” 

“What? Nana Denbrough thought she was at a waterpark. You’re fine.” 

He put his hands on his face and folded forward. Richie scratched his back soothingly but didn’t stop trying to defend himself. Beverly eventually got so fed up that she pulled out her phone and played a video from YouTube. 

“Exhibit A, Bill and Audra’s wedding.” She said viciously. 

Eddie groaned as he raised his head to watch the screen. Bill’s younger brother Georgie had filmed people talking about Bill and Audra. He put the most unfortunate video, starring Eddie and Richie, on the internet for the world to see. 

Video Eddie looked miserable and spaced out. Georgie had to say his name three times before Eddie looked up and hiccuped. “Oh hey, Georgie!” Video Eddie said enthusiastically. “Having fun kiddo?” 

“I’m 21, Eddie. Not really a kid anymore.” Georgie’s voice said laughing. 

“Stay a kid forever,” Eddie begged him.

“Ok, Eddie. What do you want to say to Bill and Audra?” 

“Bill...I want you to know that you are the bravest man alive and I would die for you. Audra, you better be good to him.” Video Eddie points at the camera and almost falls forward. Suddenly, video Richie appears, catching him. He giggles bopping video Richie on the nose and keeping his face precariously close to video Richie’s face. 

Video Eddie frowns suddenly and looks back at the camera, “But don’t fall too too in love. You might get your heart broken like me. Love is dumb. Women are dumb. They don’t really care about you.” 

Video Richie had his hair slicked back and was laughing at video Eddie’s truths, “Eds! This day isn’t about you. It’s about Bill and Audra. We should be telling stories about them!”

“Oh god,” Eddie said as his stomach turned reliving the next part again. 

“So Audra, let me tell you about Bill’s first time. He had a girlfriend in high school, blonde and pretty, much like yourself and they were dating for about…” 

Video Eddie hiccups, “4 months.” Then smashes his face into video Richie’s neck. “You smell like whiskey.” He winces.

Video Richie laughed, cheeks reddening from drunkenness, “Thank you, Eds. When they decided to fuck for the first time, he got everything all set and she came over that evening. As he was eating her out.” 

“Richie, kids could see this.” Video Georgie warned through obvious laughter.

“As Bill was going downtown on her hoo-hoo she got a little too excited and shat the bed.” All three men were shrieking with laughter. Video Eddie wrapped his arms around video Richie, shaking uncontrollably with glee. Despite the horribleness of the situation, Eddie smiled a little. “Now it’s unclear where all the crap ended up but we can guess that…”

Beverly stopped the video glaring at Richie intently. Eddie looked at him and he only smiled. “We won’t even get into the nuclear mess that was Stanley and Patti Uris’s wedding right now. But we want you both to have a date so there is no chance of you completely embarrassing me, Ben, and yourselves.” 

Eddie scoffed, “Richie embarrasses himself on every date he goes on. What makes you think one brought to the wedding will be any better?” 

“Oh yeah?” Richie gazed at him steadily. Eddie braced himself for the incoming insult. As much as he could dish it, he rarely could take it. Especially against Richie’s quick tongue, “And when was the last time you even fucking went on a date to embarrass yourself?” 

“I can get dates!” 

“A night alone with your right hand isn’t a date.”

“Shut the fuck up, Trashmouth!” 

Suddenly, two armchair pillows smacked the side of Eddie and Richie’s heads. They both rounded on Beverly and Ben but the stare of death Beverly was giving stopped their prepared protests. 

“If you assholes want to come to my wedding,”

“Our wedding…” Ben whispered.

She turned her ever reddening face, almost the color of her hair, at her financé, “Not if you correct me, Benjamin! Don’t make me marry myself!” She focused back on Eddie and Richie, pointing a bitten nail at them menacingly. “...you will have dates and BEHAVE at the reception or so help me, I’ll castrate you!” 

There was a pregnant pause broken by the one who can never stay quiet long. “What about the ceremony?” Richie responded, “Can I at least ruin that?”

She stared at him, everyone ready for more yelling but instead she broke into a gorgeous smile and laughed. It lightened the moment but Eddie didn’t find he felt any less anxious. He fully contemplated this enormous request from his friends. Finding a good wedding date took time, he only ever had committed relationships. Well, the one with Myra. As much as Richie’s words hurt, he was right. Eddie didn’t go on dates. People didn’t tend to find him datable. “Too short, too high maintenance, too weird” were just a few of the flaws that consumed him. He had no clue how he was expected to get someone to go to this wedding with him. 

The four of them started discussing wedding details, Beverly and Richie talking a mile a minute about everything that had to get done. He was especially excited to plan a bachelorette party. With how much money Ben and Bev make, it sounded like they would get their dream wedding easily. 

Eddie was thrilled for them but that pang of being single and now having to find a date was eating him alive for the two more hours they stayed. When they finally called it a night, Beverly and Ben hugged them promising to talk tomorrow. 

Richie did not follow them out which meant he wanted to drink and talk more, probably spend the night there. Eddie had a guest room that was essentially Richie’s room since he spent the most time there. 

“You want ice cream?” Richie shouted from the kitchen where he was most likely opening another bottle of wine. 

“With chocolate syrup!” Eddie yelled back. 

“Oh, chocolate syrup night means major troubles.” Richie laughed. 

“What are we gonna do Rich?” Eddie whined miserably. “Or rather, what the fuck am I going to do?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“About the fucking dates!” Eddie laid sideways on the couch, grabbing the cushion pillow and placing it over his face to scream into. 

“Don’t be a drama queen.” Richie said. The couch shifted as he sat down by Eddie’s legs. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” Eddie mumbled into the pillow. 

Two hands extracted the pillow from his face. Eddie kept his eyes scrunched closed. “I can’t speak pillow.” 

Eddie huffed out, “It’s easy for you to not be worried. You are a serial dater.” 

“Open your eyes, Eds.” Richie chuckled. Eddie opened them to pout childishly at him.

He had his smirky smile on, which could only mean he had a terrible idea. “I have a great idea to get us out of getting actual dates.”

Eddie stared at him from his laid down position, probably giving Richie an unattractive double chin, “There is no loophole in this agreement, Rich. Beverly was really fucking clear. We have to have dates.” 

“And we will.” Richie poured wine into both their glasses. He handed it to Eddie, forcing him to sit up in order to drink it. While Eddie drank normally, Richie downed his quickly then licked his lips. 

“Who am I gonna have to take to Ben and Beverly’s wedding?”

Richie watched him carefully, opened his mouth and said, “You’ll take me. I will be your wedding date. And by default, you will be mine” Eddie’s mouth dropped and Richie clinked his empty glass with Eddie’s full one.

______________________

In honor of IT: Chapter 2 coming out soon, I have begun writing this fake dating idea! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, comment here or on archive and let me know your thoughts and feels! The title is thanks to Slashpalooza on tumblr who asked me a million years ago to write something with this title!

Tag List (Starting a new tag list since I don’t know who is still around in the fandom. Let me know if you want to be tagged):

@sarah011 @pan-ini @frankeeenstein @sam-i-am2468 @eds-kas @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @roobarrtrashmouth @hypnoidvoid @imeddie @slashpalooza @reddieforlove 

[ahhhh-118]

MARÍ MENTIONEDDDD SHE LOOKS AMAZING!!! ❤️

THANK YOU FOR INCLUDING ME AND CONGRATULATIONS ON 50 FOLLOWERS DUDE!!!!

50 Followers! Part 2: Traditional Edition

Sketch

Y'all have really cool OCs fr🐐🐐🐐

Ernest Stanley - @kablamoo7

Lucille Carlton - @randomgirldraws

Marianne Villanueva - @ahhhh-118

Luc Rossi - @tohot4u

Åse "Ace" Olaug Årud - @acesandocs

Calliope "Calli" Cairns - @spiky-berry21

Cassie - @funfairsundaes

Aisling "Ash" Mayfield - @annlytical

[allthingsfangirl101]

TFGD Chapter 4: Sneaking In

Masterlist

"Morning Sunshine."

Jason groaned as he shut the door behind him, cringing when it shut too loudly. "What are you doing here?" He mumbled as he walked into the apartment and collapsed onto the couch.

Addilyn laughed as she walked over with a big mug of coffee. "Here. Drink this."

"Thank you," he said barely audible. She let out a small chuckle as she patted him on his head. He closed his eyes and held in a moan as she massaged his scalp. He heard her giggle as she walked back into the kitchen.

"How did you get in?" He yelled, instantly regretting it.

"You gave me a key when you moved in, remember?"

"And why did I do that?" He sighed, taking a large drink of the coffee Addilyn made him.

"For moments like this," he heard her laugh.

When she walked back out of the kitchen, she had a smaller cup of coffee for herself. He couldn't help but watch as she sat on the chair across from him. He studied her as she studied him.

"Whoa," Daniel laughed as he walked out of his room. "Dude, you look like shit."

"I think he's aware," Addilyn smirked as she sipped her coffee.

"Oh! Did Ads make coffee?" Daniel asked as he excitedly walked into the kitchen. When he was gone, Addilyn glanced over at Jason.

"Hey," she started but was interrupted by the door opening. The two looked over to see Mikey walking into the apartment.

"Hey, guys. I was thinking. . . Geez," he laughed. "Jason, man, you look like shit. Rough night?"

"And why are you here?" Jason sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. He subconsciously glanced over at Addilyn, thinking back to when she ran her fingers through his hair a few seconds ago.

"Aren't you cheery today?" Mikey teased. "Yum. Addilyn made coffee."

Jason watched, his stomach tightened when Mikey kissed Addilyn's cheek after she handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, gorgeous," he chuckled.

Jason rolled his eyes, slightly scoffing. Addilyn looked at him, her eyes sinking. She cleared her throat before pouring another cup for herself.

"So," Addilyn said, clearing her throat. "Ian and I are going out tonight to celebrate and I'd really like for you guys to come. You in?"

Mikey smiled at how hopeful Addilyn was as she waited for their answers. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

"Of course we're there," he said, tickling her side. She laughed as she pushed him.

As he walked to the table, Addilyn turned towards Daniel and Jason. She glanced between the two of them expectantly. Daniel stood up and walked over to her.

"I'm really happy for you, by the way," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled out of the hug and grabbed her shoulders.

"I'll be there," he smiled.

The three of them turned towards Jason. Addilyn nervously bit her bottom lip while Daniel and Mikey slightly glared at Jason as they waited for his answer.

"I'm in," Jason said, not trying to sound excited. Addilyn nodded as she looked at her feet and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

They spent the rest of the morning asking Addilyn about her wedding plans. As she debated colors, Jason drank three more cups of coffee. Ads tried to ignore Jason's cold shoulder, but it was getting hard to ignore his annoyed grunts.

"Jas," she said, softly clearing her throat. "Are you sure you're alright? That's your fourth cup of coffee. I don't think I've ever seen you this hungover. What happened last night?"

"Nothing," Jason tried to shrug it off. "I just. . . I might've been at the bar too long."

"Since when do you drink too much?" Addilyn laughed.

"I didn't drink too much," Jason corrected her sharply. He instantly felt guilty when he saw her eyes sink.

"Okay," she said under her breath. She cleared her throat standing up and grabbing everyone's empty coffee mugs.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I just. . . I didn't sleep well last night."

"I'm sure there wasn't any sleep involved in what you were doing last night," Addilyn mumbled.

"Ads," he sighed. She cleared her throat again and walked to the kitchen, placing the cups in the sink.

"I'm gonna go," she said, her voice sounding weird.

"Wait, I didn't mean. . ." He stood up and quickly tried to follow her to the door.

By the time his hungover self was able to get to the front door, Addlyin was already through it. She slammed the door shut right as he got to it. Jason leaned his forehead against the now-closed door and sighed.

"Smooth," Daniel laughed.

"Yeah, that was. . . Terrible," Mikey added.

"I didn't mean to. . ." Jason stuttered.

"Dude," Mikey cut him off. "What is going on with you? Ever since the other night, you've been acting weird."

"Yeah," Daniel added. "In fact, ever since the night that Ads announced her engagement."

Mikey's eyes widened when he caught on. Ever since Addilyn announced her and Ian's engagement, Jason has been abnormally grumpy. Instead of congratulating her, he sulked. When she left, he started ordering stronger drinks. And when Mikey and Daniel left, Jason was still going strong.

"Holy shit," Mikey scoffed. "Is that what this is about? You don't like Ian?"

"And you do?" Jason challenged.

"He seems to make her happy," Daniel shrugged.

Jason let out a harsh laugh as he leaned back against the couch cushions. "Come on," he scoffed. "He's not good enough for her. He is just like all the other assholes who broke her heart. It's only a matter of time before he does the same thing to our girl as all of those asshats. I bet you $50 that a month before the wedding, he's gonna. . ."

"Our girl?" Mikey interrupted, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"What?" Jason sighed.

"You called Ads 'our girl'. Is that how you think of her? That she's ours?" Mikey glanced over at Daniel knowingly.

"I just meant. . . We've been friends with her for a long time. We're protective of her."

"We?" Daniel snorted. "Mikey and I are protective. You're obsessive."

Jason threw an empty soda can at Daniel before standing up and walking back to his room. Mikey and Daniel sent each other knowing looks as Jason went to rinse the last 24 hours off of him.

[chaoticevilbean]

Atla Youtube Au, Sokka-Centric

1/?

“What’s up, ma dudes? Time for another session of What My Friends Have Put Me Through. This time will feature Lady, Warrior, Gurl, and Princess.” The male was wearing his Southern Water Tribe facepaint, and from his background, it seemed he was indeed in one of the Water Tribes’ territories. His hair was white for this particular video, long and pulled back into a tail. His irises were bright blue, and once again left no clues as to whether it was the real coloring or just contacts.

“Alright, so this story is a bit strange, as per usual. As you all know, my friends are activists and Lady takes that to the extreme. Well, they did it again. What do I mean, you new viewers ask? I mean they started another rebellion. Now, maybe it’d officially count as just a bunch of protests, but I personally believe that once the number of protests in a single city is more than five in as many days, it’s the start of a rebellion. And yes, I did say another. I’ve got it all in a playlist if you wanna look.”

The background behind the videographer changed as he presumably walked around as he spoke. Snow and a clear sky were shown, and there didn’t seem to be any other people in sight.

“Now, it all started because of a previous thing my wonderful Lady did. If you’ve already watched the video, noice. If you haven’t, pause this and find the one labeled ‘Lady Vs Old Coot’. Very inspiring. Anyways, so they came back here and thought that maybe at least that Old Coot had changed, but no. No, instead there’s been no change. Or there hadn’t been. We all came as a group, but only myself, Kuzon, Lady, Bluey, Princess, Gurl, and Warrior. Bandit, Ballerina, and Knife would’ve come, but they were all busy. Or Ballerina and Knife were busy. Bandit hates it here cause there’s no land. Nothing to see.”

“So, we’re all here, and we spend the day touring and exploring and stuff, and then we meet up for lunch. Well, Lady starts ranting about how they’re so disappointed in everyone, especially the Old Coot, and demands that we do something. Immediately, Gurl, Warrior, and Princess all pledge themselves to the cause, and then guess what they do? Guess what they flippin’ do?” The Youtuber gave a sarcastic and slightly pained chuckle, dark seal markings emphasizing his features as he looked around a little.

“If you couldn’t guess, they asked me, me, to help them plan their course of action. Now, these are my friends. Basically my family. I’ve been through a lot with them, from overthrowing corrupt organizations to taking down drug rings to literally being Kuzon’s father one time. And through all of these things, I’ve somehow become known as the one who’s really good at planning. But they asked me to help plan a stinkin’ rebellion. I do it, obviously, but the fact that they even asked.”

“But then, apparently they told all of these people who’re following them in protest that I helped organize everything. And no one decides to tell me this, so I keep helping from the sidelines. We reach day three of protests, and it’s lunchtime, so I think I’ll just walk on over and bring some food to these people who’ve been standing outside the Council all morning. I get there, and I get mobbed. Everyone’s either thanking slash congratulating me, or they’re complaining about the protestors. It takes me an hour to find Lady and ask them what the Spirits happened because of all these people just crowding around and yelling at me.”

“Lady apologizes, but the damage is done. The warriors are asking me to end the protests. I tell them I can’t. They get mad because I’m supposedly the one in charge. I am not the one in charge. I am the one who the people in charge asked for a favor and got dragged into this mess. No one seems to get it. Then the heckin’ Council calls me in and tries to make me end it all. I kept trying to say that it’s not my fault there’s a rebellion. It was the will of one person, aided by the wills of three other people, that inspired the hopes of everyone who’s protesting. I just helped them do the most damage so they have a big impact and this doesn’t take a year.”

“So here I am.” The camera turned around, and started panning to show the barren ice devoid of any life. “I’m currently out here attempting to hide from everyone. I have enough supplies to last me a week on its own, three if I make the most of it all.” The screen showed several bags, including a green Earth Kingdom satchel, a blue Water Tribe satchel, a black Fire Nation duffel, and a yellow Air Nomad backpack. A few items are attached to the duffel and backpack, though it’s unclear what. “I’ll wait out the protests, since Bandit’s giving me a play-by-play of the progress. Once that’s done, I’ll just head back and hope that no one’s still under the delusion that I’m in charge.”

“Thus ends this day’s session of What My Friends Have Put Me Through. I’ll be back in an hour after I figure out what else to video and get bored enough to post again. Hope y’all like junk food, cause that’s all I’m serving. That being said, I’m signing off. See ya.”

The video cut to a picture of a boomerang with ‘Boomeraang’ written in calligraphy on the flat side. The entire vlog was titled ‘Lady’s 75th Revolution’.

True to his word, another video was posted about an hour later, this one titled ‘Furry Friends and Shock’.

“Sup, dudes. I’m back as promised, and this time, I’ve brought friends. Say hello to Fluffster, Rookie, and Baby.” The screen flipped, and three wolves were sitting like trained dogs in front of the Youtuber. “The biggest one’s Fluffster, since he’s obviously the floofiest. The smallest one’s Rookie, he’s pretty young. You can tell because his paws are a bit too big for him. He’ll grow into that. Then Baby’s this lovely little gal, and she’s super sweet. Took forever to stop her from licking my face.”

The three wolves wagged their tails as their names were spoken, and people who had watched that far were already commenting about how either it was impossible to tame wolves, the canines were incredibly cute, or disbelief at how it’d only been an hour and he already did something weird.

“Now, these beautifuls are strong predators. Usually, they’ll avoid humans, but I’m alone and my facepaint makes me seems less like a threat. They approached me pretty casually, not stalking or anything. I didn’t even notice they were there until I looked around again. And they’re much more tame than most wolves would usually be. Again, it’s likely because I seem unthreatening. Please do not try to do anything like this without training. I literally just did this by chance. I named them and they understand their names, but most animals wouldn’t. I mean, Foo Foo Cuddlypoops didn’t. I don’t think he did.”

Avataratlast: Who’s Foo Foo Cuddly Poops? Another friend?

- Banditrocs: Probably an animal.

Keepitreal: how did this dude manage to tame three wolves? it’s only been an hour?! and why does he wear that makeup? i’m so confused, was this all planned? does he have a crew?

- Boomeranglife: You must be new here.

“So, I’m gonna sign off soon, mostly so I can give these three some love. I think the best course of action would be to answer some of my commonly asked questions, tell you all a bit about wolves, and then give you the official goodbye until I get bored enough that my resolve crumbles. That’ll take at least another two hours with the fact that Lemur somehow managed to sneak my notepad into my bag. I wasn’t gonna bring it because I left in such a hurry, but then I’m inventorying my stuff and find it. Lemur’s such a pal.”

“Alright, gotta start the answers so I get cuddle time with the canines. My frequently asked question get put in a list thanks to my subpar hacking skills. Don’t tell Knife I said that or they’ll make good on their promise to lock me in a closet. Let’s get to it.” The screen split to show a list of questions on one side, the wolves on the other. Some of the questions were blacked out, probably due to being inappropriate.

“So, if it’s blacked out, those are hateful, nasty, or have far too many swears. The first question is the same as always, asking what my name is. My response is the same as always. Smiley emoticon. The next is my age. Under 50, above 10. My gender? Male. Is this a profile or something? Seriously, all these are about my identity. Sexuality? I let the people theorize cause I don’t care about what y’all think, unless you’re a bigot, then get off my channel, pretty please with The Moon on top. Real hair color? Hmm, I guess I can probably give you that. It’s not white. Eye color? Not white, either.”

Actlikewater: is everyone getting this?! he’s giving us information!!!

rockbeatsfire: what r y’all getting hyped up for? he hasn’t said anything

- powertoBoomerang: have you watched these before?

- - rockbeatsfire: i watched that parkour one

- - - powertoBoomerang: one - watch them all. two - you need to be more specific, and three - he never says anything about his identity besides pronouns. we have information. we can figure this out!

- - - - CaptainSparky: Are you sure about that?

- - - - - powertoBoomerang: we can figure this out maybe!

“What’s my nationality? Theorize, ma dudes. I ain’t gonna say, so go to one of those lovely blogs. Boomeranglife is really sweet, they’ve got a bunch of videos all about this sort of stuff. Actually, it might only be about my channel. I don’t really know. I just saw one of their videos and started questioning if I really was a Spirit. Ask them, and give them some love. They a nice peep.”

“What is my favorite animal? Either sabertoothmooselion, flying bison, or flying lemur. Is that seriously a commonly asked question? Am I gonna get spammed with artwork now? Do I need to have a lesson on how to draw flying bison and lemurs and all that? I’m gonna do it anyways, and all artwork is accepted, so long as you keep it PG-13. I’m around kids.”

“Am I single? I don’t know. Really, I don’t know. I could be dating Warrior, or I could be stealing Kuzon. I literally have no idea. I platonic flirt with everyone, and I’m horrible at reading social cues when it comes to romance. Wheaty? Apparently had a crush on me until three months ago. They told me when it ended so I would relax and I had to explain my oblivious nature and crippling anxiety. Ballerina? We’re married according to a small town and soulmates if you listen to a certain nomadic troupe. I might even be dating everyone on the team, heck if I know.”

“Am I a bender? Heh, that’s a good one. Can’t believe you haven’t figured it out yet. Who am I? Hold up, Ima search this.” There was the sound of keys tapping as the screen showed the videographer searching himself up. When the screen loaded, there was a bleeped out sound and the three wolves rushed towards him in concern.

“Holy Spirits! Tui, La, Yue, and Agni! *bleep* I’ve got a Wiki page! They gave me a *bleep*ing Wiki page! I’m not even that popular!”

Livelovemurder: he knows we see this, right

- Boomeranglife: I’m still recovering from him mentioning me, but I don’t think he realizes he is a celeb here

Azulastan: someone get this boy some tea! His video from literally an hour ago already has thousands of views! someone call Bandit!

- SouthernChief: on it! I’ll spam the comments of that last video. Hopefully they respond!

- - UncleTea: Good man/woman/enby!

Livelovemurder: wow, our first reaction to seeing him hurting is to contact Bandit. didn’t she once launch him into a tree?

- UncleTea: that was the first time they were officially friends. now they’re best friends

“Alright, I think we all earned some wolf facts. Did you know that wolves can live over ten years? Pretty long for any wild animal, even longer for a predator in a wasteland like this. Wolves are also extremely expressive for animals, and they’re very social. Wolves can get much bigger than dogs, except polar bear dogs, and despite what most people think, they don’t usually hurt children. Even the really small ones. They’re more likely to adopt your kid than try to hurt them. I personally believe it’s because they’re a lot smarter than most people credit them. Comment #WolfRights below and I’ll see if I can start a movement.”

“Now, I’m signing off once again, so say goodbye to Rookie, Baby, and Fluffster. See ya.”

The second video ended. Comments were pouring in about the clip, and Boomeranglife had already gotten another thousand subscribers in the time it took for the video to be played twice through. SouthernChief did indeed spam Bandit’s latest video, and had the earthbender ignore them until they mentioned that the guy from Boomeraang didn’t think he was popular.

- Bandit: He what?

- - SouthernChief: he doesn’t think he’s popular

- - - Bandit: I’ll take care of it.

Time Skip 5 Hours

The next video was titled ‘Who Sold Me Out?’ The starting screen showed Gurl in their Hei Bai mask, very clearly holding the camera. They waved at the screen before flipping the view around to show what was in front of them. The Boomeraang guy was sitting squashed between what appeared to be several people hiding underneath blankets. He was glaring directly at the camera, face set in a scowl that was once again greatly emphasized by his facepaint.

“Alright, I only got a few minutes to get this out before the others get sick of hiding under blankets. Who the *bleep* sold me out‽ Just because I didn’t realize how popular I am doesn’t mean you needed to call Bandit! Seriously, who was it‽ I’m out on the ice, having the time of my life sketching Baby and Fluffster and Rookie, and then, out of nowhere, Bison is flying towards me with Kuzon and Princess. Then they practically drag me back and I can no longer feel my legs because there’s four people on them. Whoever it was, you’re on thin *bleep*ing ice. I was fine! I was more than fine! I wasn’t the alleged leader of a rebellion!”

“You done?” Gurl asked from behind the camera.

“Yeah, I’m done.” The screen flipped back to Gurl.

“The dude’s been majorly *bleep* off because someone tattled on him. You have the thanks of the rest of us and the anger of one squished Youtuber. He refused to come out of the house, so we all decided to stay in tonight. The protests are over for the day anways, thanks to the fact that the Council is starting to give in. We promised an afternoon of peace so they could discuss it all without worrying. And we’ll be bringing you rebounders to the morning rally as well. NO EXCUSES!” The last words were thrown towards the guy on the other side of the camera, and a loud groan was heard. “He’s gonna do his outro and then y’all are gonna say goodbye.” The view reversed again.

“Signing off for now! See ya, ya traitors!”

The screen cut out.

SouthernChief: i regret nothing

UncleTea: He looked like an angry toddler, OMS.

Boomeranglife: gals! pals! dals! I got big news!

- Livelovemurder: spill

- - Boomeranglife: the NWT is having a bunch of protests all across their cities!

- - - Tyleestan: do we know who’s leading it?

- - - - Boomeranglife: no, NWT is too secretive! i just heard it from a merchant that left as they were starting. we live about as close as you can get to the north pole w/out actually being there

- - - - - SouthernChief: sucks, dudes. next time, for sure

- - - - - - rockbeatsfire: next time there’s a rebellion? does that actually happen a lot?

- - - - - - - Boomeranglife: seriously, watch the videos. I recommend in chronological order instead of by playlists

- - - - - - - - rockbeatsfire: alright, alright, i’m going

[awhitehead17]

Congratulations You’re A Father

TimKon, Future, Time Travel, a kid comes from the future, Fluff, Angst, Getting Together, First Kiss.

Summary: Learning that he has a kid in the future isn't too bad, Tim can get his head around that fact. But learning that the kid is half him and half his best friend is pretty mind boggling, especially when they aren't even together.

Enjoy! :D 

“Congratulations Tim, you’re a father.”

“You being serious?”

“DNA matches 50%. He is your kid.”

Tim gapes at his older brother trying to comprehend what he’s just been told. The last couple hours have basically been a blur of peculiar events.

Tim and his brothers had been down in the cave, doing their weekly sparring competition, when suddenly a glowing purple portal appears at the edge of the cave grabbing their attention. Before they could do anything about the mysterious portal, a teenager stumbles through it and into the cave.

The portal disappears like it had never been there and the sudden teenager it left behind looks disoriented as he surveys his surroundings. Tim and his brothers had been frozen in confusion at the event, because how did a portal just appear in the Batcave without a single trace, and didn’t immediately react to the teenager.

This teenager was in normal clothes, had dark hair, he had a lean but yet muscular body however the most noticeable thing was how there was a large red patch growing on his t-shirt on his left side. The stranger, seeming unaware of his apparent injury, finally notices them and his gaze lingers. His expression becomes one of confusion when he looks in Tim’s direction.

“Dad?” He had called out and before any of them could yet react, the teenager abruptly collapses on the floor unconscious.

From there it had been a flurry of movements to get this kid patched up and medically seen to as best as they can and work out what he meant by ‘dad’. Alfred patched him up, claiming that it looked like a stab wound and how it needed stitches but wouldn’t cause any permanent damage, after a week or two of rest he’ll be fine.

Once working out that the kid was going to be alright, they kept him sedated and then moved onto working out what he meant by calling Tim ‘dad’. Jason made plenty of jokes about who Tim could have potentially had knocked up. Damian wasn’t interested, claiming he ‘couldn’t care less about there being another Drake in the world’. Dick had been the most sympathetic, he had joined in with one of Jason’s jokes before actually taking the matter at hand seriously, he had been the one who suggested they do a DNA test.

It came back positive.

“Looking at that kid’s age he’s about 16 or 17, meaning Tim you would have been three when you… convinced him. Which is really all kinds of wrong to think about. My guess is that he’s from the future, or another dimension, or like an alternate reality.”

That's where Tim’s thoughts were headed to as well. They happen to be the only options that make sense and the next question is, what one of those options was it? Tim glanced the teenager again and now could actually spot of his own features on the kid, his nose for one. His eye shape (despite them closed at the moment) and the colour of his hair.

However as Tim looks at him, there was something else that felt familiar about him but Tim couldn’t place what it was. He guesses that it’s the other parent's features coming through as well, but he has no idea who it was. It suddenly became an itch he couldn’t scratch and now Tim wants to know who the other parent was, who his future partner would be.

Then again did he want to know? If this teenager was really from the future, did Tim want to spoil that for himself?

He shakes his head, trying to clear those thoughts, time travel and everything linked to it was complicated.

Tim opens his mouth to ask a question but his phone ringing stops him from doing so. He leans over and grabs it from the computer desk, he answers it without looking at the Caller ID.

“Tim, buddy, you going to let me inside any time today? Last time I came through the window you yelled at me for a good 10 minutes and I don’t want a repeat of that.”

Instantly Tim smacks his forehead with his palm. “Shit, Kon, I am so sorry I completely forgot!” He turns away from the phone to where Alfred was already heading for the stairs. “Alfred could you-”

“I’m ahead of you Master Tim, I’ll let Master Conner in and send him down as I head for the kitchen to make us all some snacks.”

“Kon, Alfred will let you in. We’re down in the cave alright.” Tim tells him, he hangs up on his friend before he could get the chance to reply.

From next to him, Dick looks up, “Kon here?”

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose feeling a slight headache coming on, it’s been a hectic few hours. “Yeah, I’m supposed to be going to the farm with him for the weekend. He’s here to pick me up, I had completely forgotten considering everything that’s just happened. Shit.”

Dick blinks at him before shrugging, “You can still go, it may be better if you weren’t here until we can get this all sorted. It stops anything happening to the timeline.”

He considers it for a moment, “Yeah perhaps but…” Tim looks over at the sleeping figure, there was something inside of him making him reluctant to go. This was his kid, from the future or another dimension, but he was his. Did Tim want to pass this opportunity up? He wonders what he’s called, wonders when his birthday was, what about school or interests and hobbies? How similar is he to Tim?

“Tim.”

He sighs, knowing that Dick has a point. “Yeah I know. It’s just… y’know….”

His brother looks at him knowingly but doesn’t comment further. In that moment Kon finally makes his appearance from the stairs as he descends from them.

“I was stood outside for about twenty minutes dude, not cool. I thought you were playing a prank on me or simply testing my patience.” Kon says getting to the bottom of the stairs and starts to walk over.

As he does, he passes the med-bay and sees the sleeping teenager there. His best friend frowns and looks at them, “So when did the Bat adopt another kid? I didn’t know there was another one of you guys.”

Tim rolls his eyes while Dick snorts, “Just be glad he isn’t around to hear you say that.”

Kon simply grins at them when he stops beside Tim. “Is that why you forgot? What happened?”

“Yeah, sorry about forgetting,” Tim apologises to his best friend again. He looks at Kon before glancing at the teenager again, “a couple hours ago-”

He abruptly stops talking as it sinks in who the other parent could be. He flicks his gaze between his so-called kid and his best friend.

It was Kon.

The other parent was Kon.

He could see it now he’s made the connection. The kid’s got Kon’s jaw line from when he was younger, the same lips, cheek bones and his body type seemed to be similar to Kon’s when he first appeared as Superboy from Cadmus. It had to be Kon, surely. Was that why he felt familiar to Tim?

“Tim? You okay?”

Tim ignores Kon and looks at Dick who was watching him with concern, “Can you run the DNA test again but against Kon’s this time?”

Dick blinks at him, his gaze shifts to his friend before turning back to the computer, thankfully not asking questions. His best friend on the other hand didn’t hold back.

“My DNA? Tim what do you mean? Who you running my DNA against and why? What’s going on?”

Tim continues to ignore him as he watches Dick work. Minutes later his brother turns around to them, he looks up at Kon with a serious expression just as he had done to Tim earlier. “Well, congratulations Kon, you’re a father.”

Kon’s jaw drops in shock as he stares at the older man. “What? What do you mean?” He turns to Tim, his expression hardening as he lets out a fake laugh, “Yeah ha-ha, funny joke. Is this is what you’ve been planning? Because it sucks.”

“It’s not a joke Kon,” Tim tells him. “That teenager in the med-bay is potentially from the future or another dimension and he’s – he’s our kid."

Tim couldn’t believe it. Sure it’s fine that he has a kid, he’s thrilled even, because that means he starts his own family, but with Kon of all people? He couldn’t get over that. He’s been harbouring feelings for his best friend for a couple years now but he hasn’t done anything about it in fear of ruining the friendship between them because Kon couldn’t possibly return the feelings back.

But could he be wrong?

Kon stands silent between them, his face currently kaleidoscope of emotions as he digests the information suddenly thrusted at him.

Still sat on the chair Dick looks between them, “You guys obviously have a lot to talk about, this is certainly unexpected but perhaps it would be best if both of you weren’t here. We don’t want to risk any time line mishaps, or paradoxes happening when we can try and prevent them just for safety measures.”

Tim appreciates what Dick was trying to do, but there was a part of him that was still reluctant to go. It seems that Kon was now having the same issue. “But why? If this is our kid then surely we should get the opportunity to get to know him?”

Dick sighs and looks at them both with understanding and with his ever famous patience he tells them, “I understand why you both don’t want to go but think about it this way, you’ll have plenty of time in the future to be with him. It’ll be even better because you’ll get to see him grow. We’ll handle things here okay, you guys go and enjoy the farm. Tell Ma Kent I say hi!”

Tim and Kon both go quiet, they glance at one another before looking away again. In the end, Tim sighs defeated and starts to walk away, “Okay just at least let us know when he goes back, make sure he gets there safely. Come on Kon, there’s not a lot we can do here anyway, he’s sedated for the time being.”

After some hesitation his best friend follows him, but not without looking in the direction of the teenager first. Tim leads them up the stairs and to his room where a bag was already packed and ready to go. His original plan was to finish sparring with his brothers early so he could get ready for when Kon arrived, obviously that had gone out the window with the turn of unexpected events.

Tim changes out of his gym clothes and into his normal clothes. Once he was ready they head out to the back of the Manor where Kon proceeds to pick him up and together they head over to the farm.

The flight to the farm was awkward and tense as neither of them speak. Both of them lost in their own thoughts about occurred in the cave.

When they finally get to the farm they were greeted with a warm, freshly baked apple pie from Ma Kent. They both accepted the treat with a small gratitude but other than that kept quiet. Ma instantly picked up on the tension between them but thankfully didn’t comment, all she said was that the guest room was all prepared for Tim when he was ready to settle.

They eat in silence and once they were done Kon disappears, claiming he needed to do some chores he happened to forget before coming to pick Tim up. Tim knew the truth though, his friend was going for a long flight in hopes to clear his head, he didn’t blame him. While Conner was gone Tim sets himself up in the guest room, he settles in and gets some work done on his laptop he had brought with him.

When evening came around Kon still hadn’t returned. Tim ate dinner with the Kent’s, making small conversation between them before retreating for the night.

Later on Tim makes his way onto the top of the barn, he was watching the stars in the clear night sky as they dazzled brightly. The sky was always such a contrast in Kanas to Gotham, it was so clear and the air was always so fresh.

It’s about 15 minutes later when Kon appears again. He flies over to Tim on the barn and sits down beside him. They sit in silence for a good while, seeming to be unable to start up a conversation between them.

Kon’s the one to eventually start it, “So… we have a kid in the future.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s cool. Great even…”

Tim sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “Look Kon, I get that it’s weird, it’s completely unexpected, but…”

But what? How was Tim supposed to continue this incredibly awkward and forced conversation between them?

“I like you.” Kon blurts out from nowhere. Tim snaps his gaze to his best friend, both unsure and hopeful at the same time. “I like you Tim, in a way that means more than a friend. Finding out that we have a kid was great. Obviously shocking but its great. I’ve always wanted a family, yeah I found brothers between you and Bart back in Young Justice and then of course the girls joined and we all became a family. But it means a lot more in a way I can’t describe.”

“I like you too.” Tim says without thinking. “I have done for a long time, but I was so scared of ever saying anything because I didn’t think the feelings would be returned. I didn’t want to risk our friendship.”

Kon huffs out a laugh, “We’re a pair of idiots aren’t we?”

Unable to stop himself, Tim grins, “Yeah…”

They go silent for a beat or two, still not moving or doing anything with one another. The tension and awkwardness was still there but not as prominent as before.

“I wonder how we got him.” Tim comments looking up at the sky. “Did we use a surrogate? Maybe cloned him? He’s got our DNA so we didn’t adopt. “

Then for a horrific moment Tim thinks back to the time he had countlessly tried to clone Kon when he died. His heart drops at the thought, was he successful in the end? What if that kid in the med-bay was a clone Tim created out of desperation for his best friend?

A hand cupping his face and turning back to face Kon startles him from his thoughts. Seeing the way Kon’s piercing blue eyes gleam in the night make him forget about that awful time that happened so many years ago.

“Does it matter? We have a kid Tim. One of which is half you and half me. Which brings up the question how did he get injured in the first place if he has Kryptonian genes but that's a worry we’ll have in the future. But for now think we need to actually get together before we start anything kid related at all don’t you think?”

He was grinning at Tim and Tim smiles back, placing his hand above Kon’s holding his face. He licks his lips, “That may be a good start.”

No more words were spoken as they both lean in close, pressing their lips together for the first time. As they kiss Tim feels all of the tension that had built up drain out of him, he wraps his arms around Kon in a loose embrace and smiles against the Kryptonian’s lips as he feels arms wrap around his waist, bringing them closer together.

Then like that all of the awkwardness and tension bleeds out from the air around them, leaving them comfortably in peace and for the seeable future. They’ll tackle everything together as they always have done in the past, in the current present and now in the future.

[a-long-furby]

congratulations on the 50 followers 💕💕💕💕 ilysm💛💛

Thx sm dude!!!🥺💕💕 Ily too!!!!💕

[onisiondrama]

PART 7 - video #13

(Click here for mirrors)

what’s up

(Sorry for the offensive language in this one. He’s pretty pissed.) - He wants to discuss the legal case. He filed an anti harassment protection order against two individuals. One of them has been harassing him for the last 8-10 years. This person deleted earlier videos, but Greg’s life is this guys’s obsession. It’s crazy how obsessed he is. Greg is no doubt on this guy’s mind 24/7. It’s creepy and weird. Lately he’s been documenting ever aspect of every interaction he has in Greg’s world. The dude just make $20,000 on attorney’s fees on a case Greg had dismissed. You guys payed some dude to show up to court and hear the case was dismissed. Numbskulls. If you’re a Youtuber and someone tells you to stop talking about them, why would you hire an attorney to go into court and speak for you? Dude couldn’t even speak for himself. He was just sat there smirking like a jackass while he’s losing his hair and gets fatter. Total idiot, punk ass bitch. Greg was overwhelmed be how much of a bitch he was. - Greg was standing there with his bulletproof vest and people wonder why he was wearing that. “Christina Grimmie anyone?” He knows she wasn’t shot in the bulletproof vest area, but life is a danger when you show up to a court room where a bunch of people thinks you prey on children. Where are the children by the way? Who even made this up? Because he was blackmailed into sleeping with an 18 year old, now he’s into kids? He doesn’t understand the leap in logic. - The other person the case was against was someone who used to specialize in going after people who go after children. He’s trying to make it look like Greg would want to go after a child like that. It’s pathetic and one of the dumbest thing he’s ever seen. When he dated Shiloh when she was 17 1/2. They spoke to the police and they cleared him of any inappropriate images on his computer and everything. He was 100% cleared with Shiloh. Another relationship where he’s still married to the person, so that worked out. Another relationship where someone was 19. Another who was 18 1/2. Someone we don’t know about was 26. Someone we don’t talk about was 24. The wife before was 24 when they separated. People obsess over these relationships and try to relate it to children. They don’t want to go after people who go after 12 year old, they go after people who date adults. - Says this is the funniest thing: “Well they’re still mentally a child,” There are 50 year olds who are mentally a child and there are 18 year olds that are mentally 90. That’s a fact. When he was 17 he had the maturity of a 40 year old male. He was a little dark and goth, but very capable.  - At the court case Greg is sitting across from this pasty, greasier than him, looks like he never saw the sun in his life, beta male, pathetic, he’s definitely getting a double chin soon.[Greg is laughing] He’s smirking at the judge and Greg thought he was an idiot because he’s smirking in court like an ass hat. Judges likes to see people taking it seriously. - Greg went to court and asked for it to get dismissed because anti harassment protection orders are more open and close when the person isn’t a public figure. The problem is you have an ex who hates your guts and now he wants to stalk you, that’s illegal. Now he started a tumblr about you so now in court he just has to say he’s protected by the Constitution, freedom of the press and freedom of speech. Your lawyer can argue that they’re a stalker, but that’s stressful. Now you have to argue the constitution. He avoided going in there and arguing the constitution against people who are Youtubers, not journalists. Journalism used to mean you work for someone, now it means you have a blog. - [This section is sarcasm btw.] Chris is still a journalist even though he was released from his contract after someone killed themselves. He’s a journalist because he livestreams, which is what a 13 year old could do. Congratulations. - Being a youtuber isn’t a prideful thing. If you think you’re a big deal because you have a few million subscribers, you’re a joke, Youtube is a joke. Youtubers who take themselves seriously and think they have an impact on the world are jokes. They’re all pathetic because there are real hardworking people out there like soldiers, construction workers, and scholars. Youtubers are morons. - Real journalists go to Iraq or go in a storm and talk about the weather. A journalist isn’t a dude who works with a dude who is perused in court for sexual assault while dating a much younger women while going after people online who date younger women and act like they’re predators. That’s “retard paradox.” - A journalist from Newsweek approached him in the courthouse and it was one of the most bleh experiences he had in his life. “Pathetic” is too much of a dignified word for this person. He walked up to Greg and said, “yo Onision. I really want to hear your side of the story. I’m not anti-o. I really just care about the truth, you know?” Greg ignored him and kept looking at his phone. The guy said, “Ok I get it, I get it. You don’t trust me but you gotta know you can trust me.” Greg wanted him to fuck off. He doesn’t trust a single reporter on this earth because they are looking for headlines, just like Youtubers. Especially Newsweek. The articles they write about him are totally baseless. They don’t care. He sees no credentials. He sees someone who flunked out of high school or didn’t go to any journalism school working for Newsweek. This guy followed Greg into the bathroom even though he knew Greg didn’t want to talk to him. “Just say one word Greg.” His name is JAMES. [He lists his old names.] They’re too stupid to get his name right. “I’m Greg James bitch!” [I have no idea what he’s quoting but he’s been saying that for a while now.] - He gets in the court room and there are emo girls with dyed hair everywhere. Fucking morons. “When did this court room become a clown show?” He mimics them giggling and saying “that’s onision.” He says he should have just brought mace. [He pretends to spray mace onto the people in the court room and laughs.] These chicks are taking pictures and saying look at his snow boots. He says he doesn’t have dress shoes so he wore snow boots. Those are his ass kicking boots. One stomp and you’re done. He came prepared for war. - Hansen’s lawyer comes up and says he was never served so they want it dismissed even though he’s well aware he’s supposed to be here cuz he sent me. Legally, Greg guesses, you have to get served in order to show up, but Chris publicly acknowledged he was supposed to be there. He could fly across the country to have the cops called on him but he can’t fly across the country to show up in court. Pussy, moron, douche bag. Where is the money going? What is he spending it on? His debts? You guys don't realize you're getting played because you paid someone $20,000 for $2,500 in fees, which he says probably wasn’t even that much because the case was open and close. The attorney wasn’t even there for an hour. You have pussy boy who has an attorney speaking for him and Greg speaks for himself. He tells the judge he got legal advise and is taking a different legal avenue. He is literally doing it right now. - Some dumb ass hoes, dumb ass bitches follow him into the elevator. This girl was sitting next to her sugar daddy who had a beard and was a blimp. She’s holding up her camera and she was a midget and she asks him if he’s having a good day. He’s standing there thinking, “all these stupid ass whooohhmmms”. [seems like he was going to say whores but stopped himself] He’s silent because if he says anything it would wind up being te-he-he bullshit. He had sunglasses on so he didn’t have to look at the dumb bitch in the eyes. - 2nd floor happens, elevator opens. No one got out. Bitches are going to follow him all the way to the first floor. They’re there because they want to see the circus, they’re the clowns in the circus. He was surrounded by fucking idiots. They show up because they want him to do what? Like when Hansen showed up at his house he was surprised Greg’s obviously fake videos weren’t real because he’s a boomer. He asks if people could start saying “ok boomer” because this is an actual boomer. He does math and says not exactly, but pretty much. - Court was stupid. He didn’t have a good time. He treated himself to taco bell and treated people to dinner because he saved money by not hiring an attorney. He knows the other guys spent a shit load of money. It’s amazing they could have done it for free. They hired an attorney so they could continue to harass someone. How low life is that? If someone took him to court for harassment he would just stop talking about them. He could move on. - When you file an anti-harassment protection order you can’t talk about that person either so it’s like a mutual contract to F off. He says that last thing was just speculation. He doesn’t know what the actual rules are.  - He thinks it’s creepy and says a lot about a person when they fight an anti-harassment protection order. Why is it so hard to leave people alone? They’re harassers, it fits the definition. Not everyone is sane or reasonable. Just gotta keep going at it. People will keep cashing in on Greg. Greg owns all the channels. They get the revenue, but Greg gets the face time because they always think about him. Their whole job is him. “Fuck you.” He doesn’t know how you could waste the most precious thing you were given, life, on someone you hate. - He tells the emo girls that showed up to court to get a fucking haircut and to dye their hair a normal color.

[mars-barssss]

Hi! For the whump bingo ask, can I ask for "Apologizing right before they pass out" with Patton? Thank you.

//I’m really sorry about this being so late! Also, sorry to the two other asks for a while ago, I’m gonna finish these up before continuing. Life got a bit hectic but I’ll get back on it!

An Illogical Feeling

Pairing: Logicality

TW: Blood, Near Character Death (But not actual character death!), Stab Wounds

Type: ANGST

//College!Au and Human!Au, to let you know!

Summary: Logan gets a call from his best, no, a really close friend. He learns something new about himself.

—

Ring…! Ring…!

The ringing of the phone mixed with the loud movie that was blasting on the TV. Roman didn’t pay any mind to it, as his eyes were trained on whatever action movie they happened to be watching.

Logan himself was reading a book, however. He was paying no mind to the movie. He had no interest in it, anyways.

Roman had invited him to watch a movie over in his dorm, and he didn’t really care for the choice of movie that he chose. Truthfully, Logan just was tired of waiting for his own roommates to come home, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t want to be alone.

There was something so suffocating about being alone. It was illogical at best, he should be fine with that. But he had gotten used to the conversations and sounds that dulled the silence, that he couldn’t just avoid it! He didn’t know if that meant he was getting weak, or otherwise. Either way, he simply had told Roman he’d be over, but not to watch. Roman didn’t get much of a response to his next text, before said friend arrived at his door.

And the moment that Logan stepped inside showed just how lonely Roman was too. Or at least, bored. Pillows and blankets coated the couches and a bean bag chair was pulled up in the living room. The movie was looping on the menu screen, and there were some blankets specifically placed as like a cover. A true… pillow fort.

When questioned, Roman had shrugged it off, mumbling something about how his emo roommate not being home for the next two hours and his other being at a debate competition for the weekend.

As Logan recalled this, a loud shout pulled him out of his thoughts. The scene kid continued to shout as a lion, apparently, was hanging by the edge of a cliff, and screaming for help from the other lion.

“Mufasa, you could just like, I don’t know, climb to the left slightly, there’s a branch right there-!”

Roman continued to argue nonsensically at these characters, who Logan didn’t even know the names of, and who would also not hear Roman’s arguments, until eventually the lion fell off of the cliff. That left Roman with a loud irritated shout.

Logan scoffed slightly, smiling. He returned to his book.

Ring…! Ring…!

Oh. Right. The phone. The phone that was still ringing.

It was Roman’s phone, so obviously, he should answer it. It wasn’t in Logan’s place to answer it. It could be personal. But his that dumb drama student just wouldn’t stop whining the screen. Honestly, Logan didn’t know why it bugged him so much. Maybe because it didn’t merge with the background sound of the movie.

Maybe it was because of a strange feeling in his stomach. He didn’t even know why it was there, but earlier when it first started, he nearly wanted to take some medicine. He was probably just getting sick, to be honest. It was winter, after all.

Speaking of winter, Logan glimpsed out of Roman’s dorm window. It had actually began to snow, after Logan arrived. Something about it excited him, because he hadn’t seen snow in so long. That however, didn’t last long. The snow also made him worry for Roman’s roommates, as well as his home. The roads would be slippery, and honestly his roommate should have been home a while ago. Anxiously, Logan checked his phone, tapping his foot lightly on the carpet.

6:48 PM

Ring…! Ring…!

Logan shuffled slightly, getting to messaging app to try to contact him again. Logan did not like the idea of spamming people, it was rude. Honestly, they’d respond back when they did get the chance, but this time, his stomach was almost doing figurative flips. His stomach was figuratively flipping?

He didn’t really pay too much mind to the half-cooked metaphor as he scrolled through today’s messages and typed a new message.

___

Today

1:30 AM    Patty-Cake: GO TO BED

1:30 AM    Patty-Cake: I can c ur light on

Patty-Cake changed Crofters’s nickname to hey.

Patty-Cake changed hey’s nickname to LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP.

1:37 AM     LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP: I need to get this essay done.

1:38 AM     Patty-Cake: u got that essay last night, it’s due in two weeks

1:40 AM     LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP: Better to get it done early.

1:43 AM    Patty-Cake: Comin to ur room rn

1:43 AM    LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP: What?

-

2:11 AM    Patty-Cake: ILY nightt

Patty-Cake changed  LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP’s nickname to Stargazer.

-

12:34 PM  Patty-Cake: Lo!!! I got a role!! SO EXCITED!!! :D

12:34 PM  Patty-Cake: Ro’s gonna be so happy! He’s been trying to get me into the play for weeeeeeeeks

Patty-Cake changed Patty-Cake’s nickname to AAAAAAAA.

12:36 PM  Stargazer: That’s nice. Congratulations.

12:36 PM  AAAAAAAA: Emile’s calling! C u at home im gonna be making cookies

-

2:03 PM   AAAAAAAA : Do u want burgers tonite?

AAAAAAAA changed  AAAAAAAA’s nickname to Patty-Cake

2:03 PM   Patty-Cake: Gotta fix my name one sec

-

5:30 PM    Stargazer: Patton, please respond. Where are you? You should have been home a half an hour ago.

-

6:48 PM    Stargazer: Patton, are you home yet? If you are not, it is snowing outside, please drive carefully.

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:03 

6:50 PM    Stargazer: You’re worrying me, please call back.

___

“Get off your electronics, Microsoft Nerd!” Ahead of him, Roman was a leaning backwards, giving him a pointed stare. His lips were pouting as he pointed at his phone. The movie was paused. “Thought you were gonna be on your book, not your phone!”

“I was reading my book. I only went to go check the time on here.” Logan deadpanned, pocketing his phone. A small glance to Roman’s home phone made Roman shout at him again.

…

“Really? I could heard you typing! You aren’t even paying attention to me right now!” He huffed, sitting up in the chair, still staring at Logan. “See you’re just staring at my phone for some odd reason, at least give me a straight answer.”

Turning back to Roman, Logan’s expression was dulled out, kind of a tired ‘what are you even going on about’ face. “Just unpause the movie, Roman.”

“Alright, whatever, just don’t text during the movie! Puh-lease!” The movie was unpaused, and the volume replaced the silence immediately. It blasted through Logan’s ears the moment it came back on, the stark difference surprising the engineering major. He didn’t realize that the phone stopped ringing.

Everything continued as normal.

Only until a few minutes later.

Ding!…

___

6:58 PM    Patty-Cake: l

6:58 PM    Patty-Cake: logan

___

Logan quickly grabbed his phone, his hands shaking slightly as he scrambled for the messaging app. Oh, he was going to rip Patton a new one for scaring him.

___

6:59 PM    Stargazer: Patton, why didn’t you respond to me all afternoon?

6:59 PM    Stargazer: Patton

7:01 PM    Patty-Cake: hlp me pls

7:01 PM    Stargazer: What’s wrong?

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:01

7:03 PM    Patty-Cake: guy cme up behnd me 

___

By now, Logan has stood up, staring down his phone. This felt wrong, this felt so, so wrong. Glancing away for a brief moment, Roman had also gotten up from his beanbag, although his intention was different.

“Hey pocket protector! What in the world are you doing?!” Roman nudged his shoulder, although not unkindly. “You’re panicking dude, come on, breathe.” A hand landed on his shoulder, but Logan didn’t acknowledge it. He was on the screen to call Patton, consistently trying to call the other.

Roman looked at Logan’s phone nervously, before tightening his grip on the other’s shoulder.

___

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:02

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:01

7:05 PM    Patty-Cake: over by th aprtmns alleyway

7:05 PM    Stargazer: Why aren’t you answering?!

7:05 PM    Stargazer: Why aren’t you calling the police?

7:06 PM    Stargazer: Patton

You called Patty-Cake.

___

Finally one of the calls went through. As Logan looked at the video on the call, there was just black, and all he heard at first was gasps, and clearly a choking sound. The phone moved from what sounded like the ground, into the air, slightly. The phone was shaking from the place it was held, showing only concrete.

“Patton-?! Patton, are you there?”

The phone jolted again, as it sounded like he was trying to sit up. “L…Logan?…”

“Yeah, Patton, it’s me. Where are you?! Tell me where you are!” The phone uneasily shakes in Logan’s hands. He’s already walking towards the apartment door, keeping his eyes on the call desperately. As the door opened, he winced at the choke-like gasps coming from the other end of the call. Roman quickly followed after him as he rushed down the staircase, not waiting for the elevator.

“Logan… L… I…” Several more coughs came through as the phone was pulled back towards Patton. The camera jolted as he coughed. His hand came into view of the camera for a moment, and Logan stopped breathing for a moment as he stood in the front door of the dorm.

Dark red blood stained his hands and the snow around him. The arm itself was shaking either from fear, or the cold winds. Another wheeze came through, before Logan saw that Patton was beginning to drop the phone, falling forward in the process.

“Patton, don’t fall asleep! Please! Tell us where you-!”

All of a sudden, a loud thump was heard on the call, as the camera went dark. The call was still on, but Patton must have passed out on it. Soft uneven breathing came through the speaker.

“P-Patton!”

His head turned up sharply as he could hear just how much he was hyperventilating. He stared at Roman, his eyes watering from his fear how tired he was. “R-Roman.”

Roman touched his shoulder, his words fumbling right out of his mouth with how quickly he spoke. “He stayed late at the theater, and he said he was near the dorms in an alleyway, he’s probably that way-” Roman gestures to Logan’s left. “I’ll call the police to this area, call me when you find him- I’ll lead the ambulance there, okay?! You just focus on finding him!” He shoves Logan to the left, as he pulls out his own phone quickly, his boots stomping through the now-thicker snow.

Logan briefly nods before running off to the left. If you asked Roman, Logan never runs for anything, unless he is genuinely scared, which is rare. Nothing could ever get him to run, but now, he was going as fast as he could on the slippery ice and snow.

“PATTON-!”

Glancing down every alleyway there was, he held the phone close, listening to the soft, weakened breathing, to make sure he was alive. After a few moments, Logan stumbles after hearing a hitch in the other student’s breathing, before he couldn’t hear it anymore! His own breathing hitches, as tears spill down his eyes.

“PATTON!”

He sprints off again, desperately looking down every alleyway and corner, until finally, he spots Patton’s cardigan down one of them, abandoned.

Turning sharply into it, he reached the cardigan, picking it up shakily, and holding it close. A small whimper snaps his head towards the right, where Patton was laying, a few feet away. Logan stumbles forward desperately, falling to his knees beside Patton, who’s eyes were closed with a light layer of ice on them, and breathing that was barely heard.

“Patton, can you hear me?!”

He pulled the other into his lap, trying to warm him up. The moment he saw his stomach, where a stab wound festered, he shoved his hand on it, giving it pressure, despite all of the blood that surrounded them. His other hand grasped at his phone, dialing Roman’s number, the other continuing to hold the unresponsive student in his lap. Once the call went through, he quickly blurted out the area they were in, and set his phone the ground without a care. The now empty hand hesitated, before taking one of Patton’s in his own.

“Patton, wake up! Please, wake up!”

-

Patton didn’t know who was speaking, but someone was speaking.

He didn’t know who was shaking him, but someone was shaking him.

He didn’t know who was saving him, but someone was-

-

He opened his eyes to see a blurry mess of blues and blacks. A small groan forced it’s way out of him as he struggled to move, only realize the hand that pushed down on his stomach. A whimper was heard as he felt the pain that grew from the pressure, before he felt himself get moved around slightly, his back against the wall of a dorm.

His eyelids drooped slowly, as his whole body longed to be on the floor again, as he longed to sleep. Suddenly, his hearing came back and-

“-tton! Stay awake! Don’t fall asleep!”

Logan’s voice blasted throughout his whole body, it just felt so loud. Everything suddenly felt so loud, and his stomach hurt so badly. The rocks beneath him felt so cold, so very cold, and… sticky. Why… Why was it sticky?

“Pa-” His hearing went out again as he blinked over and over, trying to get a better view. Eventually, he can see who the figure above him was. Logan.

Some fellow student. Some nerd. A stoic acquaintance, who hid his emotions. A person who helped him with math homework, who didn’t care how dumb he was. A childhood friend, who tried to avoid him. A stargazing dork, who stayed late up until four in the morning to see a comet. A friend, who didn’t leave him, even if it meant he got bullied by the same kids that bullied him. His partner in crime, who begrudgingly joined him with a prank on the bullies. His only friend, who would let him ramble listlessly all night. His best friend, who took care of him when he was bedridden, and called for Roman to bring blankets and watch movies with them until he was better.

One of the most important people in the world to him, who was slowly fading away into the darkness that clouded Patton’s vision.

“Lo…” Patton’s voice whimper out through the pain, his hand squeezing Logan’s, as strong as he could. Which wasn’t that strong, but it was something. Logan’s eyes darted right back to Patton’s, and for the first time that Patton ever knew, he was crying. A sudden shiver wracked Patton’s body, and he tore his gaze away from the other to try to contain heat.

Some of Logan’s tears hit Patton in the cheek, sliding down his face. Logan’s breathing rose again as he watched Patton carefully, and held him away from all of the snow that had gathered around him. Quickly shifting his jacket off of him, he wrapped it around Patton, and held it closer once more. “Patton, stay awake for me, okay? You can hear me, right?”

Patton stiffly nodded, as another shiver made him shrink into Logan’s jacket. He looked so… small. His voice wasn’t much bigger than how he looked, rasping at the edges. “Y-Y-Y-Ye-eah. I-I can he-ear you.”

“G-Good, you’re okay, you’re gonna be fine.” Logan muttered those reassurances under his breath as he looked back at the main road, waiting. Waiting for the inevitable sirens to come down it. At any time now. “You’ll be fine.”

“Logan…” Patton felt it inside of him. Something inside of him was wilting, like a dying rose. He didn’t know if it was because of all of the red around him, or the frost that nipped at his wrists. His body felt like it falling apart, one thing at a time. His fingers, then his wrists, then his arms. Something deep down in him was fading, and he was scared, because his eyes won’t stay open, they won’t stay open, oh god, he’s falling he’s falling he’s falling-

But he’d always be there to catch him.

“Patton, come on. I’m going t-to pick you up now, is that okay?” The sound of sirens suddenly filled the absence of sound. Logan’s voice barely wavered, his ability to hold in his emotions from the outside was something Patton wished he was better at to be honest. But right now, Patton was sure his expression was only either pained, or nothing. He didn’t feel much of anything. Not emotionally, but neither the cold that tore at his limbs.

He was so tired. He was so… so cold.

He couldn’t even nod his head to let Logan know he heard him.

“Patton, can you hear me? We have to go!” Logan’s voice cracked. It was a little detail, but Patton knew just how much it meant. Logan was scared. But Patton couldn’t reach for him anymore, he was too numb. His head rolled to the side, looking at the pavement as Logan tried to move him. “Pat!”

Pat. That’s a nickname that Patton hadn’t heard for years. At least, not from Logan.

Maybe he should change his nickname to it again.

“Patton, please, don’t close your eyes, the ambulance is here! I’m sorry if you don’t want to be picked up, but I have to move you.” Logan shook him slightly, the movement only rolling his limp head around more. When he looked at Logan, he could only see beauty. He could only see his best friend, as if the whole world didn’t exist at that moment. The world faded into the background, grays and blues and whites. Snow flew around them as Logan carried him. It was a wonderful world.

Where he had no wounds and wasn’t dying right now.

He didn’t feel any pain, he could only see his best friend holding him close. And perhaps it was just the blood-loss speaking, but he knew at that moment just how much he did love the man who was saving him. The world shifted around him, and he didn’t care. He didn’t notice. His head rolling slightly, but his eyes were trained on Logan.

He looked so sad. Why was he so sad? Scared too. He didn’t like Logan when he was scared. He didn’t want him to be sad. He wanted him to be happy!

He kept looking sadder whenever he faced him as they walked forward, with snow fluttering around him. Did he do something wrong?…

If he did, he was so sorry. He felt so guilty. He felt sore, but he didn’t care. He’d feel sore all day if it meant he wasn’t sad. He had to say something, to apologize for… whatever he did. He just had to get that sad face off of him. He didn’t care about what it was, he just wanted him to be happy.

With the last of his strength, he reached up towards Logan’s face, and in return Logan’s face snapped towards Patton. His thumb weekly traced a tear as his hand shook and fell to his chest.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Lo.”

It was clear, if not raspy. And as he uttered it, he heard Logan. Not really though, the words were so muffled and quiet, it was if he had whispered it, and Patton wasn’t close enough. But he heard him speak, whatever he was saying, as his head rolled back limply against Logan’s arm, and his eyelids fluttered shut.

And they didn’t open back up.

-

Logan didn’t know he could cry, but almost losing his best friend taught him that.

___

//There we go! Let me know if you want a sequel to it! And I’m gonna get to work with the other asks! Have a great day!