#haha anyways i never draw these guys so. crumbs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[buwheal]

out of context lyric discussion doodles solely because you guys like this... thing.... or.... whatever he is........

[thwackk]

Can you just talk about your mundane and crazy domestic basic Clark Kent ideas… I’m captivated by him

yes, this man saves coupons and doesn’t own a car but takes the subway or walks to work everyday despite being fucking superman. This guy loves baseball sooooo much he thinks baseball is the best sport in the world and he’ll infodump abt it if you let him. He’s the best cook in the league and makes the most delicious meals ever seemingly without any effort at all, he loves making food for everyone and everyone is always shocked at how good it all tastes.

This guy grew up watching shitty old sitcoms so of course his sense of humor is very old and specific. Also because of where he grew up and who he grew up with, he had a pretty strong accent when he was little but living in metropolis made it go away almost, it’s still there but it’s way more subtle.

everyone agrees with this but i’m putting it in here anyways, kryptonians have fangs, clark has little fangs, it’s the way it is, it’s real.

his hair is naturally very curly and it shows no matter what he does to it, as clark kent he slicks it back and makes it look nice but the curl still very clearly shows. as SUPERMAN, he of course still has his iconic little curl in front, but the rest of it is NOT perfectly slicked back, that’s STUPID and i’m GETTING RID OF IT!!! He’s fucking superman, always flying around at high speeds fighting crime doing all this crazy shit getting beat up or beating some jacked up monster up, there is no way in HELL that his hair stays that perfect, it is ALWAYS crazy, curls everywhere, very windswept look. That’s how it is cause I say so, l’m that powerful.

this is practically canon but he just lets himself into the batcave whenever he needs something from bruce and bruce stopped caring years ago because deep down he loves this guy and is overjoyed to see him everytime but would never say that becayse he’s bruce and bruce is fucking stupid and emotionally constipated. The only reason he does this to Bruce only is because he thinks it’s funny, anything that bothers batman is a little bit funny to him. He has a tiny little streak of doing-things-just-for-the-sake-of haha-sillies deep within him and he mostly takes it out on bruce. Like when he found out Dick’s favorite superhero is actually him and not bruce, he found that significantly amusing and often teases bruce abt it but in the most subtle way. He is the KING of subtlety when it comes to this stuff.

speaking of Dick, he and dick have gotten together to prank bruce on more than one occasion. Dick is usually the one to instigate it but Clark never says no.

this is more of a personal complaint of mine but still a headcanon i guess, his SKIN TONE IS NOT THAT WHITE!! THIS MAN LITERALLY SOAKS UP SUN RAYS TO CHARGE HIMSELF!! he is in the sun CONSTANTLY, he grew up on a FARM, he has very tan skin!! all these comic artists color him sooooo white and pale and it’s so INCORRECT. anyways, that’s all i have to say abt that

kryptonian eyes glow in the dark and it makes for some scary ass situations for other people i mean. speedster eyes also glow in the dark, i was gonna draw something abt this one day. like one time bruce was on the watch tower late at night and most of the lights were off, he’s just finishing up some stuff and was unaware that clark had not left the tower yet and so he turns around and there’s just two glowing red eyes in this dark hallway, and bruce is a bit unsettled for a minute until it speaks LMAO

clark loves ducks, like a lot. He likes flying with them he likes watching them in the pond at the park, he likes giving them little crumbs from his lunch occasionally, he likes them, they’re his favorite animal. Also because the kents always had ducks on the farm when he was little and he liked to chase em around and catch one and then just hold it and pet it for a while. He named all the ducks everytime they got new or more ducks on the farm

This man still believes in Santa Claus, this is actually canon in the DCAU and I fully support it. Which also leads to my belief that he’s one of those people that just loves christmas SO much, he’s always so happy when christmas rolls around he decorates early, he starts listening to the music early, he has at least four different ugly sweaters, and buys all his gifts for everyone early. he also decorates the watchtower and the hall of justice, of course everyone else in the league helps out with that too

this man always gets coffee for Lois too, he knows just how she likes it and she’s always appreciative and he and Jimmy have a buddy handshake and alsooooo uhm he and lois have little competitions and play little games when they get super bored on slow days, like paper football, or throwing wads of crumpled paper into the trash like basketball or who can type faster, and Jimmy is always the score keeper. sometimes the rest of the office will get into it too if Perry’s not around, like the office olympics episode of “The Office”. It doesn’t happen often because usually there is alot of things to do but sometimes there are those days.

okay that’s all i can remember rn sorry i wrote so much omg

[feeling--pink]

Recently I decided that the fireside girls are phenomenal and deserve much more characterization than they got in the show. I’m very sorry for how long it took me so long to realize this!

Anyways to start off here’s some casual clothes since we never saw them outside their uniforms in the show!! Explanations for each under the cut as per usual! :D

~

Just a disclaimer that while I used every scrap of evidence I could find from the wikis and rewatching the failed pilot episodes that I did have to make some stuff up for these. In the future I hope to build on what the show gave us for more fully fleshed out characters but until then here’s a start!! 

Gretchen

I should let y’all know now that I did base their color schemes off of those in act your age! But I gave everyone a secondary color as well (if they didn't already have one)

Gretchen, according to the wiki is “Extremely Smart, happy” (extremely smart being unique)

She is also the only (known) one with the Saying A Word No One Else In The Room Knows Patch 

From that we can take that she’s in the same sort of archetype as Huey Duck, Violet Sabrewing, Frida (hilda), Clemont (pokemon xyz), etc. 

So I tired to base her outfit on them!

In this case it’s mostly Huey, Violet, and Frida because pokemon outfits follow different rules 

Violet and Frida’s outfits are more similar because they’re what I consider “comfortable” 

And while I love their designs I decided to go the other route!

The other route being Huey! Aka I wanted to give her a polo shirt skjdfhgk

Besides, for Gretchen’s age up design I think her outfit fits in the same category as Violet and Frida’s do! So we’ll get there eventually!

But anyways yes, I took the polo shirt from Huey then decided I should probably give her pants because she isn’t a duck where its socially acceptable to not wear pants sksajdhfgaks

So yeah a pleated skirt just seemed the right way to go yes? :D

Katie

Yes Katie is wearing crocs

Why you may ask?

BECAUSE WHAT ARE THOSE SUPPOSED TO BE OTHER THAN CROCS

LISTEN- I tried, I really did, to come up with something other than crocs

But I couldn’t hecking do it 

Well I couldn’t without ignoring this part of her character design which is 90% of what I have to go off of

Anyways from her wiki entry her personality is described as “Kind, helpful, cute”

This makes cute her only unique trait among all the fireside girls (except technically Isabella)

She’s also the only (known) one with the semaphore patch (that isn’t on her wiki but it is stated in bee story) 

btw this is totally unrelated to my design but I’m thinking what if Katie got into color guard when she’s older? skjdhfakasj idk I think she would like it

Anyways!! At another point in the wiki it mentions her “running gag” (running gag in quotations because it only happened once I watched the episode specifically looking for this) where she says/does unusual things to get a glance from the other girls

I’m taking that to mean she’s silly!!!!! 

Hence the crocs sksjdhfak

The overalls just seemed to fit her nature, and like I know Baljeet already has overalls but she’ll fight him for it k? skjhdsak

Milly

I’ll say here that Milly and Holly have the least characterization from their wikis which I’m very sad about

Okay so Milly’s  “Kind, helpful, Happy” (no unique traits), is bad with secrets (operation crumb cake), and has one more Help Thy Neighbor patch because she went back to Phineas and Ferb’s house after everyone left at some point

Unfortunately from first glance we don’t don’t have a lot to go off of character design wise with these

However!! I know another character who's bad with secrets, helpful, and wears a bow in her hair!! That's right- Webby Vanderquack (btw very sorry to anyone who hasn't watched Ducktales I’m gonna keep bringing it up because I love it a lot I’m sorry)

So I loosely based this design on Webby’s! Aka dress shirt thing (in this case, a blouse) and a skirt that I think is neat!! 

Webby’s design leans more into her nerdy side and so I made Milly’s lean toward sweetness!! (not saying Milly isn’t nerdy, there's just no evidence to suggest that she is so I didn’t lean into that) (also that would be too close to literally just drawing Webby’s outfit which I also didn’t want to do)

Holly

I’m restating that Holly and Milly get practically nothing from their wikis (Holly getting the least)

Like  “Kind, nice, helpful” -The P&F wiki on Holly

Go girl!! Give us nothing!!!!!

skjdjhf okay but actually there is exactly one thing we can get from the wiki

While she doesn't have any unique patches, if we look at my patch reference sheet below

You may notice that for all the patches that 3 people got; Gretchen and Holly have all four (Ginger being replaced with Adyson for the Rodeo Clown patch)

In conclusion: Gretchen and Holly are best friends.

Look I know I’m blowing this a little out of proportion, but they gave me literally nothing so I’m running with what I have

Anyways!! I’m taking Gretchen and Holly being best friends as Holly is also wicked smart!! 

So in conclusion that all adds up to I’m also making Holly’s outfit nerd-esq because I can

This time basing it loosely of of Satsuki from My Neighbor Totoro because she’s who I think of for an orange and yellow color scheme! 

(she also gives me Boyd (DT again) vibes from the color I chose for the shorts though haha)

Adyson

Starting right off the bat the wiki gives us “Sometimes comical, helpful, accident-prone, nice”

Accident prone gives us bandages

Adyson also has the unique patch of the appliance repair patch 

She also used to have the record patch for earning six patches in one day before Candace broke that record!

So I gave her running shorts and a sleeveless hoodie because I take that as she’s slightly sporty (athlesure but more casual)

Adyson was really much more straightforward than the others

I had an idea in my head that made sense so I went with it, y’know?

Ginger

okay but WHY IS GINGER SO TALL

I’m not even talking about how much taller I made her here because I was basing it off of the show!!! She’s stupid tall!!! 

And like I know Stacey and her mom are both tall so of course she would be too but LOOK AT THIS

I MEAN ?????? BRO-

Anyways moving on! :D

I REALLY liked her light blue and indigo color scheme in aya so I tried to keep that! 

I wish I could have incorporated a little more light blue but with the style of dress I went with that wasn’t really possible

Speaking of her dress!! Why’d I do that you may ask? 

I dunno I thought it looked cute! 

Listen- I love giving explicit reasons for each and every choice I make, but honestly there's usually a point where I have no ideas and go “eh its cute”

and thats what happened here! 

Thanks for reading if you got this far!!

If I missed some details or you have ideas please come talk to me!! I really want to do a good job for these guys (they absolutely deserve it) and could use all the help I can get! 

[redxblueihateloveyou]

You know it's always really funny to me when mhs say that had it not been for swimming Haru and Rin would've never become friends bc I'm like, that's how relationships work???? You initially connect bc of something you have in common and go from there???? In that case you can also apply it to mh bc if Haru and Makoto had not been neighbors since they were young they probably would've never become friends either, but nobody wants to mention that bc then their argument crumbles lol

Anyways, your blog is literally the best and your rh (and general) takes are always so nice to read

I'm... same, I just do not understand what’s new about this? Like my mom and dad met while they were both working at school, if I started talking with a guy cause he told me that he liked my chibi Akashi bag and anime, is this not allowed? This in no way means that that’s all we like about each other or smth, this means this one thing brought us together.

This is the reason why I dislike mh fans so much. Because the majority of them instead of posting some canon facts and truthful arguments, they either twist some words into something unrecognizable, either try to change a rh moment into mh. I just always thought ppl ship things for what they are, not what they are not...

And the main problem in this happening and the error in their equation is Haru. Cause they’re trying so hard to sew him into that but with everything he says and do he constantly falls off and they end up with mako-haha. It’s like they say that Makoto is the reason that Haru walks into his future, which is hilarious tbh, and the next movie airs and what do you know Haru is yelling at Rin’s face how “he only walks towards the future and wants it bc of him”, they say that s2 relay teams are what they truly want which everyone knows ain’t true and boom drama airs and Haru and Rin are talking how it’s not the same if they’re not together on the team. They air all the birthday stories and oh no, Rin is special again. I remember how they were running around after that frfr! episode, where Rin tries to make Haru laugh and Makoto says he actually already heard it before and turns out it was kid Haru’s evil laugh in his sleep at school. Like what is so special about that? And how is this mh related? Haru was cutely laughing watching Rin sleep and just reading his text.. that’s yeah, that’s the reason to fuss.

Their problem is always Haru, he never fits their mh plan like ever. But do they listen to him? No. Because we have a moment IN THE ANIME, where Haru says “RIN, I WANT TO BE LIKE YOU, TOO.” meaning he wants to be as brave/daring/passionate, etc. cause Rin represents freedom for him. Okay, I’d get why some needed me to post an arguments list for “Rin doesn’t like Haru only for his swimming”, which is still hilarious to me, but okay, he does have a kink in books about Haru moving in the water and goes about it for several pages, but with Haru this is actually not the case. 

I don’t know if anyone noticed it, but swimming is not what attracts Haru the most about Rin and never was. It’s his character and state of mind and the way he makes him feel aka free. It doesn’t matter what they do, like whether they eat their rolls or draw new years fortunes. Haru said his whole body is on fire just when he looks at Rin and he doesn’t even notice how he starts smiling when Rin talks to him. It’s just the way he makes him feel. And swimming has nothing to do with that. Sorry, guys lmao.

Did they seriously just erase this moment, when Rin writes how he wants swim as fast as Haru in his letter, but Haru looks at the sky and he has this kaleidoscope of Rin’s pic in his mind and what he says next is "Rin, I want to be like you, too.” 

And he means what he says. It’s not about the swimming truly, he admires the fact that Rin follows his dreams with such passionate determination. Mind the fact that moments of Rin that flash before his eyes in this moment a) when Rin openly gushes about Haru’s swimming in front of everyone; b) when he yells in front of the whole class that if he wants a relay with Haru, he will bloody get it; c) his swimming; d) when he tells Haru that he’s a sight he never saw before he’s gonna show him the sight he’s never seen before. It’s about how what Rin wants, Rin fights for until he gets it. Haru is in love with his passion, always was, always will be.

Haru doesn’t want to “swim like Rin” although they did compliment each other by saying “I find your strength amazing” “but I find your stamina amazing”, and Haru always drools about the power behind Rin’s strokes, but Haru swims in his own beautiful way. And while he adores the way Rin swims, that’s still not his favorite thing about Rin and never was. Every time he talks about Rin it’s always about his personality and surprisingly... it’s rarely about swimming. When he thinks about Rin it’s always stuff like... how he is so colorful and intense and full of life and passionate about his dreams and how he stands out among everyone else to him, not about his swimming skills. 

So this argument is dumb AF tbh. I’m like.. yeah, and Lan Zhan loves Wei Ying for his demonic cultivation skills. Not because of his strong character, daring heart and his incredible ability to tick him off and light his cold ass on fire.

P.S. Seriously tho this is the first shipping base I see who just always for some reason does this stupid thing with finding a crumb and actively trying to make it into a bread but then realise it’s realistically impossible so they just replace it with a plastic one and pretend it’s real. This in fact makes your ship ridiculous. You can’t try to push the line that Rin is abusive (thats still lol) and how Makoto is better for Haru, since Rin did everything to make Haru reach his dream and made him happy and he’s the only one who can help Haru, when he feels down like in s2 and then with Albert and etc. Makoto can’t. It’s the truth, just let it go. I know there are not much positives sides in mh relationships to be honest in my opinion, but there are still some (?). Why not base your arguments on truth? Like at least it’s gonna be mh, not some imaginary thing. Either love mh for mh or don’t. Like yeah, Haru doesn’t resiprocate, but maybe one-sided stuff is your kink, ok, explore this, fine, but don’t try to make Haru into somebody else. Then it’s not your ship anymore.

It’s just funny to me like that Rin here writes poems about Haru and openly flirts with him in restaurants and plans their future together and I don’t even need to exagerate anything, it’s just how it really is and meanwhile mh is like “remember how 7 years ago Utsumi said that Rin and Haru wouldn’t be friends if it wasn’t for swimming, so mh is the shit”.. like I’m sorry, but I think I’m allowed to laugh at this. Sometimes you just have to let it go, seriously. Or at least like idk think before you post (and I know that it has like 3 retweets and no one cares, but still 3 ppl agreed and it reached me somehow, so..). My policy is when I create posts about my ships is validation. Like my last Rinharu facts youtube post got 5K likes, I didn’t post my thoughts, just their moments and at the end I specifically said “I have links/translations to all of this, so name thing you want to read, I’ll link you” and I linked everyone whatever they wanted. 

This is how you tell ppl a story of why you love this ship and make them fall in love with it, too. Not by making up lies about what’s not there and twisting someone’s words (like this person wrote “thats what she really meant *adds complete nonsense*). And I know mh do not have any of this stuff that rh have, but if you really ship mh, find something real and go from there. Seriously, it’s better if you have smth small, but real, than a huge lie.

Also I still think ship is about two people, not just one. Why mh don’t want to listen to anything Haru says or wants like at all? That’s just sad. 

P.P.S. Thanks for liking my blog, this makes me so happy <3<3<3

[my-arlington-academia]

Hello! Could I get headcanons for the main 10 with a Scholar who likes to leave love letters around for them to find?

Yes! 💗 and thank you for the request ✊ I'm not sure if they're already dating or not? I'm gonna assume they are. (This turned out to be so long! I'm gonna flood the tags again...)

Alistair

- first time you gave him one, it was on his desk

- he tried to read as swiftly as he could, but as he was reading through it, he started getting weird looks from the other students

- not surprising, he was grinning the whole time

- Raquel tried to look over his shoulder

- "Oooohhh~ what's that? A love letter? You're so popular with the ladies haha."

- he immediately hides it and stuffs it in his bag

- "Psh. N-no? It was just uhhh... homework!"

- poor boy sucks at lying

- "Of course, I'm sure everyone smiles like that at homework."

- Alistair keeps on giving you glances during class

- he didn't have the time to read all of it but he did see that you signed it and your handwriting is really recognizable

- afterwards, he quietly reads it in his room

- his heart races at each word

- comes to your room as soon as he finishes reading it

- "Y/N I came here to th- than- uhhh? Yeah! To thank you! Haha..."

- for a hot second he forgot how words work

- is laughing out of nervousness

- after that, you keep giving him more and more letters

- he starts consciously expecting to find one on his desk when he walks in

- is really sad when there's nothing on the desk...

Axel

- he already receives a lot of love letters ("fanmail") so how can you give it to him while making sure that he knows it's yours right away?

- you thought of a silly trick to throw him off guard

- When he's walking through the hallways you call out his name and give him the letter, you tell him that "he dropped this"

- he's surprised so he automatically grabs the letter

- "Oh! Thank you for picking it up for- Wait. I don't think this is mine. Uh...?"

- too late! You ran away immediately

- it takes him a few seconds to understand what you just did

- he's excited! But of course he's not going to read it in the middle of the hallway

- skips the beginning of next class to read it carefully in the cafeteria

- he blushes furiously at how passionate the letter is

- he's persuaded that you could write a beautiful love song

- comes in class 20 minutes late and gets detention from Tadashi but to be honest, he doesn't even care anymore

- When he walks in, he gives you a subtle look but you know what that look means

- you're so embarrassed that you try to ignore him the whole period... until he stealthly throws a paperball on your desk

- you open it, it says "look my way"

- even though you're mortified, you do so anyway

- he waves at you and smirks all knowingly

- ohhhh boy, you look away again

- you hear a stifled laugh, he probably thinks your reaction was really cute

Claire

- she often lends you pretty little boxes with cookies in them

- but when you have to give the box back to her, you get an idea

- you put a love letter in the empty box and give it back to Claire

- she discovers it in the evening when she opens the box, expecting to only find crumbs you left behind

- blinks a few times and closes the box

- opens it again and the letter is still inside

- she thinks "it wasn't a hallucination!"

- reads it really slowly because she has to stop at each sentence to calm herself down

- the next day she gives you the box again with the new cookies she baked yesterday

- runs away as soon as you take the box

- you open it and there's a letter on top of the cookies, it's a response to your letter!

- seems like she was too shy to tell you in person

- to fit the theme of the letter: the cookies are heart-shaped

- you guys keep on exchanging letters through the box and it becomes a habit between the two of you

Ellie

- since she doesn't have a roommate, you slide the letter through the small space under her door

- finds it on the floor when she gets back to her room

- OwO whats dis?

- opens it and reads it super quickly

- she's so giddy that she reads over it multiple times

- sends you text messages with lots of emojis in them

- "Thank youuu 💖💕💗 you sweetheart!!! 💘💝😍😊😘"

- builds a robot to deliver letters between the two of you

- it knocks on the door and if you don't open it to take the letter, it goes back to Ellie

- she teaches you how to use the robot!

- "Don't worry! If someone else snatches the letter away from the robot it'll activate an alarm on my phone! And it's not like we need to sign the letters, we can use codenames!"

- You remind her that she's the only one in the pure and applied sciences department to create cute robots like those

- "Ah whoops... well uh, to be fair everyone already knows that we're dating so... no need to hide it!"

Karolina

- she probably doesn't care much about love letters

- she always thought that it's childish and extremely ridiculous

- that is until you gave her one

- the really first time you gave the letter to her directly or else she wouldn't read it, not knowing that it was from you

- she's all proud of herself while reading it

- she agrees with each statement but still blushes

- "Of course I'm gorgeous! You didn't have to write that part..."

- she's actually a sucker for books, especially from the romance genre

- you make her feel like a heroine from one of those books and she's secretly really happy about it

- but she'll never admit that of course

- after a while she gets inspired and tries to write one herself

- she thinks "I'll show you how it's done!"

- ends up getting really embarrassed at the thought of you reading the letter and doesn't give it to you until the end of the year

Neha

- after multiple attempts you somehow managed to sneak the letter in one of her sketchbooks

- too bad you couldn't see the surprise on her face when she found your letter

- she wanted to work for a few hours and brainstorm ideas for some new outfits

- but her plans went out of the window

- she read it. Put it on the side and started thinking about you during a solid 20 minutes

- wants to thank you but doesn't know how to do it without sounding like a little kid

- decides to send you a text for now, but she'll also write you a letter later

- "Thank you a lot for the letter. I really appreciate it."

- thinks that maybe it's a little bit too cold so she adds a heart emoji at the end

- cringes to herself while sending it

- gets back to work but sometimes she draws your face on the side

- scribbles all over it when she realizes what she's doing

- "This is not professional! If I have to show my sketchbook to someone and they see this, they won't take me seriously..."

- decides to write you a letter first or else she won't be able to focus

Raquel

- This is a hard one

- Raquel always moves from place to place without stop so it's hard to be sneaky with her

- eventually you slip the letter in her bag but you don't know how much time it'll take for her to find it

- like you thought it took her a few days

- when she did, she was very vocal about it

- she ran to you and almost jumped on you

- hugs you and thanks you hundreds of times

- "I love you too!!! You're so sweet Y/N..."

- becomes much more flirty, she was already confident but now it's even worse (or better? 😌)

- puts the letter on the wall of her room and shows it off to Claire

- "Look at that Claire! It seems like my godly charm cannot be stopped."

- Raquel starts carefully checking her bag everyday in hopes of finding another letter from you

- and even when she doesn't find anything, it gets her into a working mood

- "Might as well do my homework I guess..."

- becomes much more responsible with homework now that she checks her bag everyday

- your love literally helped her to get better grades

Tadashi

- This was a risky mission

- you had to sneak into the student council room and leave it on his desk

- they had a meeting this afternoon and Tadashi has been in a bad mood lately

- Well, to be fair he's always done with everybody's BS but this time it was worse than usual

- he finds the letter and gets confused right away

- wants to read it but he's having a meeting

- he's really fidgety the whole time, for some reason he has a feeling that it's from you though he can't explain why

- once everyone leaves the room he opens the letter

- all of his stress dies down, he falls back on his chair and sighs

- goes to find you and brings you to the council room, he makes you sit on his chair

- you tell him that you can't be here but he smiles and answers "Oh? You say that now even though you snuck in earlier to give me a secret love letter of all things?"

- he teases you with endearment and massages your back to thank you

- asks you if you'll write more (because he loved it) and you promise to do so if he promises to take more breaks

Tegan

- Tegan often invites you to play videos games with him (or to marathon some shows/anime/movies/whatever)

- you left the letter behind for him but he didn't catch the drift

- goes to your room to give it back

- "Um... you forgot this, I think..."

- you tell him that it's for him

- "Wait, really? You can just text me, you know? It's quicker and way easier than writing letters."

- oooohhhh boy. He really doesn't get it, you have to spell it out

- "A l-love letter? For me!?"

- "Tegan. We're dating."

- "Oh right! Sorry... I always forget that, it seems like I'm in a dream..."

- reads it in front of you while you're paying close attention to his reactions

- and to no surprise: he's a blushing mess

- you're fully satisfied, all that time was worth it

- he says that he'll repay you with a "love text message" which sounds like he's being lazy, but really knowing how... "unique" his handwriting is, you're glad...

- but it was not just a text message.

- "Sorry, I went a bit overboard 🙏🙏"

- his text has a 23 pages long file attached to it

- he wrote a really really long essay explaining in details why you're "so awesome" and "the best person in the world"

Tyler

- after classes are over, when he's working on a new painting he spends almost all of his time in the art room

- that's when you strike!

- you know he has a habit of sitting in the corner of the room so that's where you leave the letter

- honestly, he was in a slump lately because he felt like he was doing a really half-assed job with his new art piece

- but your letter gave him so much motivation that he finished the painting in a day

- "This is crazy Y/N! Reading your letter gave me the same rush as drinking 5 monster drinks in the span of 2 hours!"

- "Uhhh... Please don't do that?"

- laughs at how worried you look and asks you to write more to give him strength

- you say no at first but he pulls out your letter out of his pocket and starts reading it out loud in the middle of the hallway

- "Ssshhh! People might hear!"

- "Yeah, so? That's kinda the point but if you promise to write me more I'll stop~"

- you know he's just teasing you but it's still so embarrassing...

- in the end you give in out of shame however you have no idea just how much this letter helped him

- whenever he feels down or like he's not good enough he pulls out one of your letters and reads it

- he keeps all of them safe in a box, they're his treasures

[roommatesandwiches]

Movie Night

For context: This WIP is set in The Consequences Of A Magic Sandwich, a series (with currently only one fic) based off that 'demon sandwiches' thread; Reader is a human that pals around with demons and serves them sandwiches when they come visit. It's supposed to be Vox-centric, but I somehow ended up writing about other demons more. (this one is set a bit after Reader's met Vox for the first time)

I wanted to write a one-shot of Reader hanging out with the VVV but realized I had zero idea how to write proper dialogue, especially with characters I'm not all that familiar with. I chickened, basically, because we have little to no information what all of their personalities are, but this came out decent enough so I thought I'd share.

Viv mentioned that all of the stuff in Hell are 'off-brand', and the following is kinda how I interpret the meaning of that as well as Velvet and Valentino's personalities while we still know little about them.

-----

The ice cubes clink as they touch the bottom of the glasses. Following after them is your fresh, homemade lemonade that you pour carefully from the jug. You then pop the straws into the glasses before carrying the tray over to the table where your demonic guests are sitting. Valentino is casually eating a sandwich, his eyes glued to his hot-pink phone, while Velvet is wolfing down your cookies one after the other like a homeless person who hadn't eaten in weeks. You place the tray down and the demoness immediately snatches a glass at the speed of light and knocks it back like a shot of vodka, ignoring the straw entirely. Her haste is rewarded with the ice spilling out and onto her face, some bouncing down her chest to her lap. "Slow down," you tell her as you hand her a napkin. "It's not going anywhere." "I know, but your food is just so good!" she draws out the words, and your worry that she'd get brain freeze disappears as she continues to be just as chipper as ever. Do demons not get brain freeze? Maybe she's just too hyped up to notice. Do demons get adrenaline rushes? You consider asking, but Velvet's stuffing her face with cookies again and Valentino is distracted. "Thank you," you say and you take a sip of your own glass of lemonade through the straw. You turn to the taller demon across from you, effectively catching his attention with your gaze. "You're not texting one of your workers, are you?" The pimp is quiet for a moment. "...'Course not." he says, but he puts his phone down. You sigh disappointedly, earning an annoyed look from him that you brush off easily.

"No working when you're here, remember?" you say. "This is a place for demons to relax. If you wanted to work over sandwiches you can do that in Hell." He frowns at your mothering, crossing his lower pair of arms poutily. "Fine, fine." He finishes his sandwich and finally takes his glass and brings the straw to his lips. He takes a sip and his eyes widen. "Dang, baby! This is f*cking delicious!" It tastes pretty average to you. "Don't you have lemons in Hell?" "Kinda?" Velvet made a face. "They taste gross. Everything tastes gross." "We have lemons, they're just... Off-brand," You raise an eyebrow. Off-brand lemons? "Just like everything else down there. We've got all the food and all the products you have up here but they're all sh*tty as f*ck." So that's why they like your food so much. It's not really great, it's just leaps and bounds better than the food in Hell. Velvet sighs and leans into her palm. You wonder if the brain freeze finally caught up to her. "Yeah... Even the Oreos are terrible." She suddenly perks up again and gasps sharply. She leans into you, filling your vision with her face. "Do you have—?!" "Oreos?" You push her back a bit by the shoulders as you try to remember. "I'll go check." You get up and make your way upstairs. Behind you, Velvet squeals and hits Valentino's arm excitedly. You hear the pimp say, "Calm down, Vel." but he sounds a bit excited, too. You go into your room and look into your snack drawer. After pushing aside a package of candies you spot a blue Oreo package hidden within and pull it out of the drawer. You grab some scissors before you bring it downstairs and show it to the demons triumphantly. They visibly brighten at the sight of it and won't stop looking at it in awe even as you cut it open. You hand them each a pack and they waste no time in tearing them open. They each toss a cookie into their mouths and simultaneously moan with delight as they bite into it. "So... So good," Valentino says with his mouth still full. Some drool drips down his chin and your fingers twitch with the urge to wipe it with a napkin. Velvet crams the other two Oreos into her mouth without even swallowing the first one and gets crumbs all over her dress and your tablecloth. Valentino at least takes his time to savour the sweet, sugary goodness. The demoness next to him reaches for another packet but you pull it out of her reach. She pouts like a puppy but you remain firm. "If you eat them all there won't be any left for other demons," is your reasoning, but really you don't want them to eat too much and get sick. You know how terrible that feeling is. Besides, you mother them enough as it is. "Just buy more." Velvet whines, making grabby motions with both her hands. "I'm not made of money," you say. Valentino opens his mouth so you add, "I can only get promoted so many times." "Actually, what I was going to say was that you could get a better job. We can easily make that happen, baby. You've just gotta ask." He winks and snaps his fingers with a flourish. "Thanks, but I like my current job," you say with a polite smile. "It's not the best pay, but it pays good and I like doing it." "Suit yourself, then." the pimp sighs and takes another Oreo. "I mean, with the extra money you could get some better clothes," Velvet comments, glancing at your outfit. You furrow your brows at her and she shrugs. "A change could be nice." "My clothes are perfectly fine as long as they fit me." you state with finality. "There's nothing wrong with looking good, sugar." You cast Valentino a look at that. "Not that you don't look good, I'm just saying that you could look better." "Well, I don't care about looking better. I like how I look right now." When clothes shopping, you usually just get whatever you think looks good, comfortable and is affordable. You've never really thought about how good anything looks on you and you don't really have any regard for style and brands. It was less of a hassle that way. "Are the clothes in Hell off-brand, too?" you wonder aloud. "Oh yeah, totally," Velvet says as she snaps a picture of the Oreo pack with her 'Hellphone'. She picks at the fabric of her dress. "A lot of the stuff for sale are tacky as Hell. If you want good clothes, you gotta make them yourself or pay really good money." "All my clothes are custom made and cost more than your house." Valentino adds. He gestures with all four of his arms and you easily understand why that could be. A lot of people in Hell probably didn't care to make clothes that accommodated demons that are shaped less like average humans. "That sucks." "It's Hell, babe," Valentino shrugs. "Everything sucks." "Even movies?" you question. "Yeah. Well," the pimp smirks. "Not our movies." Oh right. They make porn. You're not into that stuff, but you understand how some people are. All to their own. "Drugs don't pay for themselves!" Velvet laughs hysterically before adding, "We sell drugs too." Well, no wonder they were so stinking rich and high up Hell's hierarchy. Sure, power played a part, but down in Hell stuff like porn and drugs are likely really high in demand, you'd think. Velvet suddenly gasps again and turns to you with wide eyes. "O. M. G. Do you have—" Drugs? "—Movies?!" You look at her quizzically. "Of course I do—" "Ohmygoshohmygosh!" She's practically vibrating with excitement and her pupils dilate to the extreme. She's so excited that you're afraid that she might explode and get blood all over your dining room. Her claws snag on your shirt as she pulls you close. "Can we borrow them?!" You're about to say "Yes." when you second-guess it. You close your mouth and take a moment to think about it, prying Velvet's hands off of you as you did. "I... Don't know." you end up saying. Honestly, you don't doubt that she'd slit your throat and snatch up all your DVDs (or just steal them without going through the trouble of killing you) if you said "No." Velvet grins maniacally, giggling. "Don't trust us with your movies, huh? Haha! I wouldn't either!" "How about a movie night?" Valentino suggests. You look up at him and you swear his eyes are sparkling with excitement at his own idea. "Instead of borrowing them, let's watch them all here!" He grins expectantly at you and you suspect that he expects you to hate the idea, but surprisingly, you don't. Having a movie night with some demons isn't a bad idea. It'd be just like having a movie night with humans, but demons. It's been a long time since you've had a movie night with anyone, anyway, so it'll be nice. "That sounds fun," you say truthfully and Valentino frowns. "I can prepare the snacks, but oh—Don't you guys have work, though?" "We already have a night set aside for movies!" Velvet pipes up. "Ooh, Vox's gonna love it!" That makes you pause. "Vox?" "Um, yeah! We can't have a movie night without Vox!" she says as if it's the most obvious thing. "The point of movie night is so that we can hang out, duh."

(That's pretty much it. Thanks for reading y'all.)

[50funny]

Mage- Chapter 3: The Party

Part 1-Party Prep

Written By 50funny

Alex sat on the side of the hotel bed with Bip curled up next to him, preening himself. Alex taped his fingers impatiently against the bed post as he waited.

“Come on Liz, we’ve been waiting for like an hour,” complained Alex.

“Hold your horses, it’s only been 20 minutes tops,” Liz shouted back from the bathroom. 

The door handle twisted and the bathroom door began to creek open revealing Liz behind it in a beautiful black dress. Alex and Bip stared at Liz, surprised that the tomboyish seeming girl owned such an elegant and expensive looking gown.

“Wow Liz… you look stunning,” said Bip in awe.

“Really, you think it’ll be enough?” Liz asked.

“It’ll be fine,” Alex said changing the subject. “On a more important note, why aren’t we coming to this party again?”

Liz turned around and looked into the mirror sitting on top of the dresser, grabbing a stick of eyeliner and beginning to apply it.

“Because neither of you were invited… duh,”

“Oh come on, every party needs some gate crashers to keep it interesting,” reasoned Alex.

“No means no, Alex,” Liz said frustrated as she turned around to face Alex, gesturing at the pairs clothes. “Besides you guys don’t have any fancy clothes. They’d turn you away dressed like that.”

“I’m sure if we pooled our cash together we’d be able to afford something. Come on please let us go. I wanna get my hands on whatever fancy feast their planning,” begged Alex.

“Huh yeah right, even if we could afford something you’d never be able to pass for high society. At best you might be able to get in as a waiter,” Liz joked.

Liz looked up to the clock on the wall above the bed noticing how late it was getting.

“Oh crap, I’m gonna be late,” Liz panicked as she swiftly grabbed her bag and ran to the door.

“Yeah I told you… you were in there for like an hour,” complained Alex.

Liz opened the door and walked into the hallway before stopping to turn around and look back into the room.

“I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Just don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone… ok,” Liz said.

“We won’t,” Bip and Alex sung out in unison.

Liz took one last untrusting glance at the pair before closing the door and running off down the hallway. Alex and Bip sat silently in the room for a moment.

“So, what’s the plan then Alex,” Bip questioned.

Bip looked over to Alex who continued to sit in silence, a devilish smile stretched across his face.

“Oh no, what are you planning?” said Bip concerned.

Part 2- The Party

Liz stood alone in an unpopulated corner of the large, noisy ballroom looking out at the high society mingling together chatting.

“I do say, when shall we be seeing our host for this evening?” a man in the crowd questioned.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he never shows, I hear this Lance is quite the elusive figure” replied the man’s female companion.

Liz let out a slight sigh as she listened to the chatter from around the room.

“How am I gonna impress Lance if he doesn’t even show up,” Liz thought to herself. “Maybe I should just leave, this is pointless, even if Lance does show up, how am I gonna impress him, he’s a first class mage and I’m just a nobody,”

Liz clenched her fist as her determination returned once again.

“No I can’t think like that, I will become the greatest mage of all time. I just need to wait for Lance to make his grand appearance and do everything I can to impress him. How hard could that be?  Still though this high class crap isn’t really me” thought Liz. “If this is what Lance’s lifestyle is like, maybe he’s not the best fit as my mentor after all”

“Excuse me madam, champagne?”

The waiter’s sudden offer interrupted Liz’s thoughts. She took a quick glance over at the waiter as he held out a dish with a metal lid covering it.

“Ah, no thanks I’m goo…,” Liz said before stopping suddenly.

Liz stood back in shock as she realized who stood before her. She reached out her arm and pointed an accusing finger towards the waiter.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Liz angrily whispered so as to not draw attention to herself.

“Look Liz! It’s me, Alex,” Alex revealed pulling off his fake moustache.

“Yeah I know it’s you idiot, what are you doing here? How’d you even get in without an invite?” questioned Liz.

“You said me and Bip could get in as waiters. Thanks for the idea by the way” Alex said.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that Alex. Where is Bip anyway?” Liz asked.

“In here,” came Bip’s voice from inside Alex’s tuxedo.

Liz looked down towards Alex’s stomach noticing that he had a much larger gut than she remembered.

“Bip?” said Liz unsure.

“Please help me, Alex shoved me in here when I wasn’t looking, and whoever rented this tuxedo before us forgot to wash it,” pleaded Bip.

“Yeah, well don’t complain, did you really think anyone would believe you were a waiter, you drew too much attention to us,” reasoned Alex.

“Whatever, I really don’t care. Why did you two even come here? Just to torment me?” Liz said fed up with her friends antics.

“Haha shouldn’t that be obvious,” said Alex slyly.

Alex began to pull the lid off the tray he was holding out revealing an enormous mound of various fancy foods stacked messily on top of each other.

“So we could enjoy this delicious fancy feast,” Alex exclaimed his mouth watering.

Alex immediately began greedily scoffing down the mountain of food, sending various crumbs and scraps flying around the surrounding area.

“Oh my gosh! This food is delicious! it’s like my taste buds died and went to heaven,” Alex sputtered out, the food stuffed in his mouth making it nearly impossible to understand him.

“Hey no fair. Send some of that my way man,” begged Bip.

“What do you think you’re doing there,” came a deep voice from behind the pair.

Alex turned around to see a large man stomping quickly over to them. He wore a tight fitting suit, like those of the waiters, but with gold epaulettes.  The man reached the group and loomed ominously above Alex.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing you idiot,” the head waiter snarled.

“Wh…. What are you talking about?” Alex stuttered.

“Don’t play dumb with me, eating in front of the guests is strictly prohibited and in such a disgusting manner as well,” he growled. “Not to mention how informally you’ve been addressing our guest here, I’ve been listen to you harass her for a while now. I must ask what sort of hovel where you raised in? You’re going to be washing dishes for the rest of the evening and once this event’s over I’ll personally see to it you never work in hospitality again!”

The head waiter grabbed Alex by his collar, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing at all.

“Hey man comes on it’s not like that at all. We’re friends, she doesn’t mind really,” Alex pleaded.

Turning his face towards Liz, the head waiter’s lips formed into a well-practiced, welcoming smile.

“I do apologies for bothering you madam, but is what this man says true?” asked the head waiter hospitably.

Alex looked at Liz his eyes pleading with her to take mercy on him. Liz looked at Alex for a moment contemplating what to do before a devilish smile stretched across her face. Liz looked back up at the man.

“Certainly not! This man just started talking to me, no matter how much I requested him to stop,” said Liz in as posh a way she could manage. “Please get him out of my sight, immediately”

“Thank you madam, of course, right away,” the large man said politely before walking away carrying Alex. “Let’s go. When I’m done with you you’ll wish you were never born.”

“Wait what, Liz how could you! I thought we were meant to be friends!” yelled Alex as he was dragged off to the kitchen.  

Liz waved at Alex sarcastically as he was carted off.

She looked away from Alex and returned to her silent watch, waiting for Lance’s grand entrance.

“Good riddance. Why is it so important for him to ruin this party for me,” Liz thought. “And what was with that costume? What kind of an idiot would think that was a good idea.”

Liz felt a light tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me miss, champagne?” came a voice from behind her.

Liz turned around to face the waiter.

“No thank you I’m….. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Liz said in disbelief.

Standing in front of Liz, wearing a near identical fake waiter costume to Alex and carrying a tray filled with glasses of champagne, was Lance.

Lance’s face split into a huge grin. “Liz, it’s me, Lance,” he said. “You know, the mage.”

Liz looked at Lance, dumbfounded by what she was seeing.

Part 3- Lance’s Test

Liz and Lance slowly walked down a long, ornate hallway. Exposed timber beams arched high overhead and a variety of delicately detailed water paintings covered the walls.

“Wow this place is fancy,” Liz said in amazement.

“Yes it is quite the spectacle isn’t it,” Lance replied.

Liz looked over to Lance walking a few feet in front of her.

“Umm, excuse me Lance but I’ve got to ask. What’s with the get up?  Why would you go in disguise to your own party?” Liz questioned.

“Well I never was a fan of the upper class society, despite being part of it myself. This party is more of an obligation than anything else,” responded Lance turning to face a large wooden door.

The walls of the room were covered floor to ceiling by tall bookshelves. Every shelf was packed full with every kind of book imaginable. A roaring fire danced in the fireplace casting shadows across the books. A single, well-worn leather chair sat beside a small table. Lance walked into the room followed closely behind by Liz who looked around the room with amazement.

“Wow I’ve never seen anything like this. You must have every book ever written in here,” Liz exclaimed.

“Well, not quite every book, but it certainly is quite the collection,” Lance said.

Lance walked over to the table by the fireplace grabbing a tray with two glasses of champagne on it. Lance brought the tray over to Liz grabbing one of the glasses and offering it to her.

“Here you are,” Lance offered.

“Ahh no thanks. I don’t really drink,” Liz said.

“Fair enough then,” Lance said placing down the tray.

Lance held the glass out in his right hand while holding his left over the top. He focused his eyes squarely on the glass and began moving his left hand down the front of it, eventually reaching its base. Liz looked on amazed as the liquid in the glass changed from a clear watery yellow to a deep orange color. Lance reached the glass out towards Liz once again with a smile on his face.

“Would orange juice be more your speed?” asked Lance.

“Wow that was amazing, you’re so cool!” Liz exclaimed taking the glass from Lance.

“Not really, that’s a very basic move. You’ll learn much more than that as my apprentice,” said Lance.

Liz began to sip on her juice before she realized just what Lance had said.

She lowered the glass. “Wait, do you mean, I passed your test?” Liz asked excitedly.

“I suppose you have, I sense a great potential in you, I would be a fool if I didn’t take the chance to hone it,” Lance replied.

Liz looked at Lance for a moment as her excitement began to build up inside her. She jumped towards Lance hugging him tightly dropping her glass on the ground as she did.

“Oh my god I can’t believe it! I actually did it, thank you so much. I won’t let you down I promise!” Liz blurted out.

“I know you won’t. Although I hope I can live up to your expectations, I haven’t had an apprentice in many many years,” said Lance.

Liz felt a giddy rush and let go, stood back from Lance looking at him slightly surprised.

“Oh come on, it can’t have been that long ago? You’re like what, early fifty’s or something?” Liz asked.

“yes well, looks can be deceiving,” Lance said an evil smile stretching across his face.

“What’s that supposed to mea…” Liz said before a wave of dizziness cut her off.

Liz had began to grow incredibly dizzy. The room seemed to shake and wobble around causing her to lose her balance and stumble clumsily around the room. She tried to maintain her balance but to no avail, and fell down to the floor as her body stopped responding to her. She tried to focus her still spinning vision onto Lance who was looking at her with dark intent.

“Well I’m impressed, that poison is supposed to take effect immediately. You really are a strong one aren’t you,” Lance smirked evilly.

“Wh… what did you do to me,” Liz mumbled.

“Don’t worry, it’s not life threatening or anything.  Besides this is actually exactly what you wanted.” Lance reassured Liz “You said you wanted to become just like me, and you will, quite literally in fact”

Liz’s head collapsed as she lost control over the muscles in her neck.

“What’s the matter with you? What are you even talking about?” Liz hissed.

“Haha, it’s quite simple really, it’s a special technique I invented a long time ago. You see I was always afraid of my own mortality, so I spent my life attempting to find a way to escape it. I had the determination and the resources thanks to my… likeminded friends. I was sure I could find cure for death, but alas I was wrong,” explained Lance. “I was on my death bed surrounded by a family who had long since disinherited me, that’s when it struck me, the body is just a container, holding within it a soul, and even if the body died, surely the soul could live on in a different container. I had my theory all I needed to do was test it. My new body had to be one with magical ability’s. Unfortunately the only suitable candidate user was my young niece, not an ideal container, but good enough. While they all watched my old body die I lived on, and I continued to live on. I couldn’t tell you how many lives I’ve lived, but trust me, you’ll be joining a long line of great mages, so it’s really a win win, haha,” Lance laughed manically.

Liz listened in horror and disbelief at what she was hearing.

“That’s impossible, you’re insane!” Liz yelled.

“Oh believe me it’s quite possible, but I suppose you don’t have to believe me for the process to work. Don’t worry it won’t hurt at all, or at least I don’t think it will. I’ve never asked,” Lance said as he knelt down over Liz.

Lance reached his hands out over Liz’s head. A light red glow began to emanate from his palms growing deeper in color and spreading across the rest of his hands. Suddenly the large wooden door flung open with a loud thud catching Lance off guard as he looked over to face the door.  Standing in the center of the doorway was Alex staring back at Lance with a cold icy glare.

“My oh my, that was quite the entrance, you’re the boy from this morning aren’t you?” asked lance.

Alex remained stone faced as he walked slowly into the room.

“I take it you’re here to try and help your friend. Would that be correct?” Lance continued grinning menacingly at Alex.

“‘Spose, something like that,” replied Alex taking up a fighting stance.

“How noble of you, but foolish all the same,” Lance said standing back up. “But I don’t recall inviting you to this event, so I suppose I am obliged to remove you from the premises,” he continued taking up a similar fighting stance.

As Alex and Lance prepared for a battle to the death, Liz watched on, wondering  just how Alex could save her when facing off against such a powerful mage.

________________________________________________________________To Be Continued-

Thank you for reading chapter 3 of mage. if you like what you’ve seen please consider following my tumblr for a new chapter every Friday. Until next week, have a good day. 

[thejokersenigma]

Christmas Fanfiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 4 - Strictly Business Part 6

Ok, so I know quite a few people have been asking for the next part of this series, so I decided to the next part of it for the advent calendar - its hardly ‘Chrtistmasy’ but, oh well! haha

Hope you Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The cold air whipped past my window, I could hear it hollowing against the panes of glass, and I thought - though it was hard to tell through the murky glass and the dark streets - that a snow flurry had begun. I hugged myself tightly. It wasn’t cold in the room, but just the sound of the weather outside made me shiver.

I had been left in the room now for probably at least 6 hours – though I had no way to tell. My stomach was empty and pulling at me sharp and painfully, and I was bored out of my mind. I had explored my room a bit, but found very little of interest – the contents of the wardrobes and dressers only entertaining me for the short time it took to empty them.

I had managed to fall asleep for a few hours, but something unknown had awoken me, and now I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the grimy window, unable to sleep thanks to my protesting stomach.

I had even tried knocking at the door in the hope of getting an answer, but received nothing back. I don’t think the joker had even bothered to post guards on the other side of the door – there wasn’t like there was anyway I get out of this room.

It was definitely snowing, I thought to myself as I watched something white float past the window, then another, and another, the white smudges dancing and twirling around each other, catching the light just enough to let me see them before they dashed back into the darkness. First snow of the year. That was nice. And where was I? Trapped in a dressed-up warehouse cell, I thought bitterly to myself. The view would have been much nicer from the top floor of the office block, at my desk with a cup of coffee and a bagel or pastry.

The idea of food made my stomach pang again and I tried to block the idea from my mind. “So much for being a bloody guest,” I grumbled to myself, “doesn’t even bother to offer any food service.” Maybe I was going to go loopy in this room. Maybe that was his plan.

And so, I continued to watch the window, focusing on the gradual layer of white that built up on the ledge outside, wishing I could open the window somehow and touch it. I settled instead on placing my hand against the cold glass, imaging what it would feel like and leaning my forehead against the window pane as I tried to think about anything other than being stuck in this room, or how hungry I was.

I sighed loudly, my breath hitting the cold glass and spreading outwards, obscuring a large circle with fog. I moved my hand, now placing in directly in the centre of the fog, then removing it, smiling childishly at the hand print left behind.

I exhaled another large rush of air and began to doodle randomly. Some were just simple swirls or shapes, but soon joking with myself by writing help backwards even though I knew no one could see it. I felt like an idiot, taking such fun from such a trivial thing, but at least it was taking my mind off everything else.

 I don’t know how long I had banged around in that room when I eventually heard someone. I practically jumped out of my skin when I finally heard the sound of footsteps - not having heard anything for over 8 hours. I had been lying on my bed, praying that I could take a nap to let the time pass quicker and must have dozed off because I now shot bolt upright, slightly disorientated and gripping the covers and sheets under me tightly. It flooded back quickly enough though, but my heart remained in my throat, pounding wildly as listened with strained ears to the footsteps in the corridor outside.

The sound was at my door now. Then the noise of metal on metal. The lock clicking. Then the door opened.

The man in the doorway was unknown to me, and he barely acknowledged my presence, simply stepping one foot into the room, saying, “This is yours.” And then throwing a small, but heavy satchel at me that thunked on the floor by my feet ominously.

Then, in the short time it took me to glance down at the bag and back up to the guy to ask him what it was and what he meant  – having never seen the bag in my life – he was gone. The door snapping sharply shut behind him and there was the distinct sound of the door mechanism locking behind him once more.

Alone. Again. Great.

I peered into the bag only to find it full of wads of money, each held together tightly with an elastic band. I threw the bag to the foot of my bed in disgust. Fat lot that would do me, I thought bitterly. Not that I would keep it - I could guess where that money came from – the heist I had ‘helped with’ – but even if it wasn’t, this was the Joker we were talking about. All his money way stolen.

It didn’t matter anyway. I had no need for it whilst I was locked in here.

He could give me all the money in the world – right now all I wanted was something to eat.

 Eventually food was delivered to me, though it wasn’t until after a long painful night of hunger. Now it was a regular thing. Though I remained locked in my room, I had access to water from my ensuite bathroom and food delivered morning, midday and evening by large burly men that unlocked the door, handed me and tray and disappear, the door being locked after them.

I never tried to sneak out or attempt to get pas them, there was no point – they alone could probably deal with me judging by the amount of muscle on them. I soon began instead to offer them the previous trays in return as otherwise they never bothered to collect them and I would have ended up with a large pile of crumbs slowly decaying away.

 So, I was fine. I was surviving. And I wasn’t tortured. But I was trapped and felt like a prisoner, despite the luxurious accommodation. What I couldn’t comprehend was why the Joker hadn’t spoken to me in over a week now, and I was confused why he bothered to keep me alive at all, let alone keep me here like this.

After wondering this every day, I was then very surprised when the door sounded out of the usual hours of my meal deliveries. I had been lounging on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, entertaining myself with daydreams, when the knock sounded, and my gaze now immediately snapped to the door. I didn’t move, watching the door warily, but the knocking only became louder and more persistent.

Eventually I opened the door, revealing the Joker stood looking rather unimpressed at the delay, in the doorway. I raised an eyebrow, in question, equally unimpressed with his sudden appearance after all this time. “What?” I asked shortly. I was getting use to treating this room like my own, with no one else around, and took my recent apparent safety for granted.

“Is that a way to greet your host, doll?” Ask J in mock outrage, though I could hear the warning in his words. I rolled my eyes at him nonetheless.

“Do come in.” I said, overly politely, opening the door wider to him and flourishing my hand in a mocking gesture.

“As witty as ever, doll.” He observed dryly, striding past me into the room. For a brief moment I looked out the door and into the empty concrete hallway beyond. He hadn’t ensured the door was closed after him, and now I had a view of my freedom before me. But was I fast enough to outpace the Joker? And what were the chances of getting out of this warehouse, or managing to hide, before I was intercepted by one of the henchmen that I knew must patrol around.

“I wouldn’t, doll.” Came the Joker’s voice behind me, easily reading my thoughts. I knew he was right and I begrudgingly let the door fall shut, turning, instead, to face my captor instead.

“In that case, I’ll ask again.  what do you want?” I demanded, annoyed that once again I was still stuck here against my will. Not that It was a bad room, no. Now I was being fed I was even slightly content, but I hated the idea I was stuck here – plus I was bored out of my mind.

“So hostile.” Tutted J, looking offended. “I’m just here to give you some entertainment.” He grinned with a knowing smile, holding out his hands to either side, palms towards me in a welcoming gesture.

I eyed him suspiciously. “No thanks.” I muttered.

“Aw, come on, doll.” J persisted. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

“If it’s you, then no thank you.”

“Whilst that is tempting, kitten.” The Joker teased with a sinful grin and glint in his eye, “I’m afraid not.” Stuck in his hand into his smart jacket – the action making me flinch, immediately jumping to the idea of him drawing a gun and finishing me – grinned at my reaction, and instead pulled out a folded piece of paper. He seemed to consider the document for a moment, before passing it over to me.

I hesitated slightly before taking it from him. “What is this?” I asked without opening it, only looking at the blank folded side.

“A present.” J said simply.

“Why?”

“Because its Christmas, doll. That’s what people do.” He said slowly like he thought I was slow in the mind. I raised an eyebrow at him and he let out one of his haunting laughs. “Well, close enough!” He amended. “Come on, doll, just accept it and get on with it.” He told me impatiently, waving his hand at the paper in my grip. “A thank you wouldn’t go amiss either.”

I wasn’t about to go thanking him until I knew what I was holding, so I opened up the piece of paper to find several sheets, all full of details and plans for another heist. I frowned at the documents in confusion.

“I’m still waiting, kitten….” J whined.

“I don’t understand…” I said, confused.

“Has all this time away from the office numbed you’re mind?” He demanded, irritated by my slow uptake. “They’re the documents for the next heist” He explained, jabbing his hand at them “ – seeing as you seem to enjoy the last one so much.”

I continued to frown down at the documents, yes, I had enjoyed the planning of the last heist – problem solving all the little kinks and flaws - but I couldn’t do another one. I had aided in a robbery – and a pretty lucrative one at that judging by the amount of money that had been in that bag delivered to me!

That bag now sat at the bottom of my wardrobe. I had tried to return it, attempting numerous times to give it over to the men that brought me food, but they just completely ignored it. So, in the end, I had moved it out of sight to the wardrobe. I didn’t want anything to do with it and keeping it out of sight helped to keep it off my mind.

“I can’t.” I said finally, handing it back to him. But the Joker didn’t reach for it.

“Sorry, doll, no returns.” He sneered and made towards the door. “Keep it. Maybe you’ll change your mind whilst your stuck in here with nothing else to do.” He teased with an evil grin. I scowled at him.

He was halfway out the door now, “Oh, by the way doll, if you don’t help, you’ll probably just be contributing to a whole lot more death.” He pointed out with a manipulating smile, before slamming the door closed and I heard the lock go.

I let out a cry of frustration, throwing the paper, though it hardly got far before it fluttered limply to the floor.

I was trapped again.

And he was right. If I helped I was aiding a crime, but I would also be able to edit it enough to minimise the amount of damage was done – property and people wise.

I sighed heavily as I looked over at the papers now sprawled on the floor, tossing back and form on what to do till my mind ran itself round in circle and I threw myself face down on the bed, screaming my frustrations into the pillows.

 I did.

I gave in.

I was felt quite ashamed by my choice, but in the end, I couldn’t help it. Or maybe I could. But either way, I didn’t. I had sat on my bed for ages, the boredom - and knowledge that I didn’t have to be bored - was like torture. The lure of the papers and my curiosity for the plans eventually overpowered me however, and soon my brain was listing excuses as to why it was ok to help.

And so I did it.

I sat at the armoire, rubbing out and pencilling in my edits as the snow flurried past my window. The plan this time was for the hijacking and stealing of a lorry of chemicals. I wondered what the Joker was up to, but soon decided that I’d rather not know – it made helping easier.

When I had done all I could do – and reread it at least 5 times – I knew I now needed to get the plans back to the Joker. So I waited, until my meal arrived that evening, and – as the large henchman handed over the food I in turn handed over the papers.

The man looked at it, but refused to take it, instead he gave a single nod and then closed the door in my face. I scowled in annoyance at the door. Why couldn’t he just take it from me?

I spent the rest of the evening alone until I thought about finally trying to get some sleep, when I heard a familiar loud and persistent knock at the door. This time I didn’t hesitate and opened the door to the Joker on the other side, the papers already in my hand. I handed it out to him, but he ignored it as well, pushing his way into the room.

“Evening, doll, I see you’ve been busy.” He grinned triumphantly as he turned back to face me, his eyes on the paper. I hadn’t even bothered to consider making a bid for freedom this time, automatically shutting the door behind him.

“Yes.” I answered. “Now just take it and leave me alone – or better yet – let me go.” I said, thrusting the paper at him. He didn’t grab, instead he grabbed me, his large pale hands easily wrapping all the way around my wrist and stopping me in my tracks.

“Why thank you, doll.” He said, plucking the paper from my fingers, but not releasing his grip on me. He tugged at my wrist and I was forced to step closer to him to keep my balance. “As for letting you go, doll, no can do – you’re quite a lucrative investment.”

I scowled darkly at him. “I am a person. Not a money-making scheme.” I snarled.

“Oh, I know, doll…” He sneered, “Which is why I have a little proposal for you…” I watched him suspiciously, I hadn’t been this close to him since the kiss and I could feel his breath on my face, the distinct smell of whisky and man. I could feel my body becoming aware of his and my temperature rose a few degrees.

“I am not sleeping with you.” I said firmly, though my voice didn’t sound as strong as I wanted it to.

The Joker grinned wickedly, “Ah, princess, that wasn’t what I had in mind, though I wouldn’t say it hadn’t crossed it…” He said, his eyes roaming my body sinfully. I should have felt disgusted, but I just felt every inch of her body burn under his gaze and I desperately tried to resist the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.

“What then?” I snarled.

He ‘Oooo’ed silently at me snapping at him before his face went neutral. “I want you to work for me, doll.” He stated simply.

I felt my eyes widen in shock. I hadn’t been expecting that. “I-I can’t.” I stuttered in surprise.

“And why not?” He enquired politely, his invisible eyebrows raised in question.

“Well…” I sought for my reasoning, but found my brain wasn’t quite working, “Because you’re a criminal! And I’m – I’m not…” I finished lamely.

He laughed at my pathetic attempt of justification. “Doll, you don’t have to be a criminal to work for me – besides you’re practically doing good.” He said slyly – “think of all the people you’re saving by helping me – and you’re not even losing me any money, so I don’t care.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

I desperately searched my mind. I couldn’t have this job, I knew that, but he was speaking sense - I was kind of helping people by working for the criminal, in a mixed up twisted way. There had to be a comeback to that, but my mind was mush.

“I – I already have a job!” I pointed out.

“I’ll pay you more.” J said, simply.

I sighed, “It’s not for the money – that is my own company, it’s worth more than any amount of money.”

“Last time I checked, doll, it was your husband’s business – at least that’s what everyone been saying.” He said slyly, knowing that would make me react, but I’m not sure he realised how much of a stab in my chest that was. Something snapped in me at that and, taking J completely by surprise, I violently wrenched my hand free from his grip and stormed out of the room to the only other place I had access to - The bathroom.

I slammed the door behind me and sat with my back against the door – as it had no lock – and felt the boiling rage quickly subside into a hot flood of tears and I was soon sobbing into my hands.

It had been a fear of mine that when the merger between my company and Mathew’s had taken place I would lose my company to the man, but the contract had seemed so clear - that though the companies had merged, there was still two distinct sides – his and mine. The two companies still existed separately but we took the same losses and gains together – a close knit team like I thought our marriage was supposed to be. But I also thought our marriage would mean that much to Mathew, that he would value me more as a person than a business partner – and that he would notice – and care – about my feelings towards my company, the struggles to build it and make it thrive, and exactly the reason why I hadn’t wanted a complete merger of the two businesses.

Clearly not if he was now actively encouraging people to believe it was all his company. Especially people who still seemed to be believe that women were no more than pretty trinkets on a man’s sleeve.

Eventually the tears subsided, though I still felt raw and my temper didn’t feel far from the surface. I wasn’t just mad at Mathew now – though he was the person I was most fuming at – but I was mad at the whole of society for thinking they could do this to me and get away with it. They had known me before I was Mathews wife, they knew me to be the powerful business woman I had been before the rings and ‘I dos’, they knew, as well as Mathew did, what that company meant to me, yet they’d happily call it his the minute we were an item. Like I was suddenly inconsequential.

I clenched my hands into fists, gritting my teeth together. I wished they were in this room with me right now, I would like to punch their smug, painted faces. I growled at myself, trying to find another outlet for the rage.

I hadn’t heard J move on the other side of the door for a while and I wondered if he’d left - yet I wasn’t sure I had heard the bedroom door go either – but I might have drowned it out under all of my sobbing.

I got to my feet, catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, grimacing in disgust and splashing water on my face in a poor attempt to make myself slightly more presentable before I went back out.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found J staring out my window at the snow that seemed to constantly fall at the moment.

“Not much of a view, is it doll?” He observed, his eyes not leaving the grimy glass. I didn’t say anything in return, stood awkwardly and still sniffling slightly, whilst J was on the other side of the large bed to me. We stood silently together for a moment, me watching him, whilst he kept his eyes on the window.

“I’ll pay you double.” J said eventually, repeating the offer from earlier.

“No.” I said, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the bag of money. I moved back to my original position and threw it on the bed between us. “You’ll that that back” I negotiated, “and I’ll take the money you’re making off those people from my ‘kidnapping’.”

His eyes snapped to money when it landed on the bed, but they moved to my face. His face was deadly serious and seemed to be surveying my face, running through my demands. He moved slowly and deliberately around the bed until he stood in front of me. “Deal.” He said with a wide grin, holding out a hand for me to shake.

I eyed his pale, muscular hand warily, my eyes lingering on the ink painting his skin. My eyes flicked up to his icy blue ones. “Strictly Business?” I asked firmly, think back to the kiss and his teasing, let alone the eyes that were now piercing mine.

“Strictly business.” Agreed the Joker with a sinister grin. But I trusted him. And I gripped his hand.

tags: @carouselcurls @aqswdefrgthzjukilop @toxic-ink @viraldragonrider @6fish6 @arkhamsurviour @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @blondieinthecity

[princessconsuelapark]

Secrets, Tears and What-ifs - Part 29

Author: Blake (justrainythings) Pairing: Ant McPartlin/Declan Donnelly Word count: 5 994 words Summary: After the Sun outing them and their secret 20-year affair, they have to deal with paparazzi, girlfriends, wives, family and... their feelings for each other. Angst. Fighting. Serious stuff. Yay. :) Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 & Part 4 & Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7 & Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10 & Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13 & Part 14 & Part 15 & Part 16 & Part 17 & Part 18 & Part 19 & Part 20 & Part 21 & Part 22 & Part 23 & Part 24 & Part 25 & Part 26 & Part 27 & Part 28

// Chapter on AO3 - er, well... hello, I guess? let's get straight to the point and do this in numbered bulletpoints yay 1. I'm sorry for being shit at updating, but hey, here's a new chapter, how about that?

2. This is my first chance at properly expressing this, so here it is: I'M SO FUCKING INCREDIBLY PROUD OF ANTHONY DAVID MCPARTLIN AND I LOVE AND SUPPORT HIM TO THE MOON AND BACK UNTIL MY DYING DAY AND BEYOND <3 <3

3. This chapter would have never been written if Abiee (@abieeoliver21​) hadn't asked me to include a certain someone - I know it was 8 million years ago, I’m not even sure you’re still reading it, but this is for you, love :)

4. No plot in this chapter, really - just some random (and mostly surface-value) soul-searching stuff and no one really gets to the bottom of anything. Bit of foreshadowing and mentions of stuff to come though haha.

5. I'm so so so SO incredibly thankful to everyone who's still here, who's still reading this, who's still interested, who still makes an effort to comment. Honestly, honestly, cross my heart. Every single person who's waited a minute for this chapter, a couple months, or a few years (god, I'm shit at this). I love you all so much, thank you a million for all your amazingess <3 <3 (also: usual warning for the usual swearing)  //

so because the last update was hundreds of years ago (please don't hate me), it's re-cap time !!

Ant and Dec have been having a secret affair for 20 years, but suddenly they are outed to the whole world, ouch. (To be fair, this is the premise of the fic, so I guess, you all remember that much at least. I mean, I hope so. I know it's been a year, but like... The summary is right there when you click on the bloody thing, yeah? Fuck, it's been a year. Please please don't hate me.)

They fight a lot about stuff - which they never do (scary!) -, while trying to navigate the minefield their personal and professional life has become. It turns out, Dec was quite upset about Ant marrying Lisa, thinking that Ant had given up on him, while Ant was never really conscious of the fact that he was actually in love with Dec.

Now though, Ant had broken up with Lisa, while Dec never really saw the need to do so with Ali (which, let's admit, was not the most eloquent way of handling this, but this fic is about Ant and Dec being in love, so we don't really give a shit about that), so they are both available, but terrified of what that means. Dec even had a couple of emotional, panic attack-like breakdowns (mainly in bathrooms? which is... weird, I guess?) that Ant is fairly concerned about. His family didn't take the news the best way possible. Especially his Mam.

They somehow got through Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and are currently half-way through Saturday, the day of their first live show of Saturday Night Takeaway. They are nervous, but as the show draws closer and closer, and more problems arise, they rely and depend more on each other than ever, defaulting back to their AntandDec-ness (and being very cute, if I might add).

Meanwhile a very old, but quite dramatically disgusting picture of them kissing surfaces suddenly and to push it out of circulation, Ali suggests to wander down to a nearby park and do a pap-walk, so they can provide less awful, and more lovey-dovey, kissing and hand-holding photos for the press. (Oh, and there's this homophobic little woman in the park who calls them out on kissing, but they handle it well, phew.) With that push, it's kind of decided for them and they more or less finally agree that they should be together and "properly date", if you will, although they are still quite shit at the whole having "The Conversation" thing. Ant admits to a few things that he wanted to come clear about (namely a sexual encounter of his with another man), Dec is not exactly sure how he feels about that (apart from unhealthily jealous and possessive).

Currently Ant is not really feeling on top of things, following a visit by Little Ant and a voicemail from his Mam. He mainly just wants Dec, who's left to get tea like ten minutes ago and to be fair, that's already way too much time to spend apart, so.

Dec is leaning on the bar counter in their studio's green room, waiting for their teas to brew, distractedly munching on a Jammie Dodger when she just wonders in. He tries to say something along the lines of 'oh shit', but he's mid-bite and he kind of chokes on a piece of biscuit and consequently starts coughing immediately. He tries to spit the soggy biscuit crumbs into a napkin in the most dignified way possible and she starts laughing at him heartily. And well, Dec really doesn’t appreciate that, despite knowing how ridiculous he must look. He is still concentrating pretty hard on, you know… not dying when she pulls him into a thorough hug.

It’s a long one and it feels like, she’s trying to tell him something with it, he’s just not quite sure what, but nevertheless it’s reassuring in a way that can only come from the familiarity of someone you’ve known a really long time.

'Cat,' Dec finally manages when they come out of the hug, wiping tears from his eyes, still coughing a bit, but breathing a lot more easily now. ‘Hey pet.’

‘You okay, love?’ she asks, tucking a blonde strand behind her ear, laughing again.

He nods and for a moment they just stare at each other in silence because of how impossible the whole thing feels – Cat is here (here in England - and in their green room, of all places!) and well, also, Dec almost just died in a Jammie Dogder-related accident. Maybe he could sue ITV. Where there’s a blame, there’s a claim, he thinks vaguely humorously.

Then Cat says, 'You completely forgot, I was coming, didn’t you.’

And… that, he did.

They set it up weeks and weeks ago – she texted him a couple times and she was coming back home to England for a bit anyway, so they were talking about going out for dinner, the three of them, after the live show, to do a bit of catching up.

But lately they've not really been on top of things, to say the least, and in the chaotic whirlwind of all kinds of pictures in tabloids and their messy fights, Dec’s been feeling like he can only focus on the task that’s directly ahead of him in order to avoid going absolutely crazy.

So, actually, no, he didn’t just forget about Cat coming; it seemed like, setting it up never even happened, or maybe in another lifetime, but definitely not only a few months ago.

Cat is still looking at him, so he simply just nods yes, because they’ve been friends for way too long to lie to her about something like that.

‘We did, I'm so sorry. There's just been some stuff going on and- I mean, it's great that you're here though-’

'It's great that you think that it's great that I'm here,’ Cat interrupts him quickly with a relieved smile. ‘Because I wasn't sure whether I should come or not after all this stuff. I mean, you guys invited me, but you know. All this is happening…’ here she makes a vague motion with her hand implying all this that’s currently happening, ‘But I just thought, you know, I don't come home all that often nowadays, so…'

'No, it's great, I'm honestly chuffed,’ Dec tells her and when he actually thinks about it, he comes to the conclusion that he’s not lying about this at all, not even a little bit; he’s glad that Cat is here. She represents something that’s constant, something that’s still normal in their life. ‘You look great, by the way,' he tells her, making her smile.

She really does. Dec has always kind of been half in love with her from the very first moment and it’s still like that. She’s really pretty – she’s always been, but she looks attractive in a more sophisticated way now –, Dec could die for her long blondish hair (although nowadays it’s more light brown, he notices), she also has a sort of delicate feminineness about her that he’s fascinated by, but at the same time he’s always loved her ever-present crude sense of humour and he knows, she’s always up for a laugh. She looks older than he remembers, but it suits her and – it’s a cliché, but she kind of grew into her face.

'Thanks, darling. I don’t look as great as Ashley Roberts though – I just ran into her outside and wow. Very American,’ she says the last bit like it’s a nasty piece of gossip and Dec loves her for that even more.

Dec laughs. 'Yeah, she is.’ Then he considers it, ‘You’re kinda very American too,' he adds with a playful smile.

‘Shut up,’ Cat says, dismissing him easily with a wave of her hand in a way that says, she’s very much used to this kind of banter. ‘You know what I mean though, she’s just… wow.’

‘She definitely is,’ Dec admits and to be fair, she’s totally Dec’s type. Still, if it ever came to it - if he was not fiercely in love with his best friend, that is -, he would choose Cat over Ashley any day.

'But last I heard, you were taken…' she says and horrifyingly, it sounds like a question, or at least something that Dec should elaborate on, and while the tone is mockingly mischievous, he can’t help but hear a fair amount of caution in it.

Cat doesn’t look sure if she has any business asking about this and Dec… Well, Dec has no idea what he thinks about that. He doesn’t have much experience with talking about relationship stuff and it’s definitely even harder when it comes to his relationship with Ant, because that’s never been something that was openly up for discussion. He has no idea where the lines are, what he feels comfortable sharing.

‘I… Sort of, yeah,’ he manages, and he can’t help, but feel that this uncertainty is kind of a setback, but to be fair, it has been an absolute roller-coaster of day and Dec doesn’t feel like putting much more energy into expressing his inner turmoil more adequately.

Cat raises an eyebrow. She looks hurt, like Dec just said something wrong, something slightly problematic. Dec has no clue why though, so he waits for her to elaborate.

'Come on, Declan, don't do this,’ Cat pleads, her voice strangely high-pitched. ‘I’ve known you for…'

'Oh. It's not- I’m not not telling you, Cat,’ he protests, understanding Cat’s reaction now. ‘It’s just, well, I’m not sure how it works at the minute.'

Cat raises a perfectly shaped, sceptical eyebrow at that. ‘What’s this then?’ she asks, shoving her phone into Dec’s hand and wow, that’s…

‘Weird,’ he says dazedly.

Dec thinks he really should get used to seeing pictures of him and Ant snogging in various locations, posted on the internet, but no, it still comes a shock seeing it so public, so sensationalised. It’s a bit different this time around though, because… Well, he knew about these pictures. He made a conscious (if not entirely free-willed) decision to participate in them; he agreed to do this. It’s the park ones, because of course it’s the park ones, and it feels silly now, but somehow he’s already almost forgotten about them; moved on, anxiously waiting for the next problem, the next catastrophe to survive and apprehensively, very unhealthily fixate on.

He scrolls through the article, flustered, a little bit feeling like he would be very grateful if there was a chair underneath him right now.

He ignores everything that’s written, he just concentrates on the pictures, and that’s already more than enough to deal with - he doesn’t need the shitty tabloid narration of their life on top of it all, thank you very much.

On the first picture they are in the queue for the burger stand, waiting for their food, and he’s looking up at Ant with a sweet, loving smile (‘That’s my favourite - it’s like a wedding picture, isn’t it,’ Cat offers with a concerning amount of enthusiasm, from where she’s plastered to Dec’s back now, looking over his shoulder to see the phone.) Dec thinks that the second one is okay, - it’s just them walking next to each other - up until he realises that they are holding hands on it and… okay. So that’s what they look like when they are holding hands. Interesting.

The next one is the first one to feature a kiss and the phone shakes in Dec’s hand for a second. Strangely, with this one, he’s not too concerned about how it looks (apparently it looks ‘very very cute’, according to Cat), but about the fact that they actually have a picture of their first truly free kiss. One for the grandchildren. Or… something like that.

The ones after that feature them on the bench, eating, kissing, then laughing, then kissing some more and oh, here’s the homophobic woman, shit.

Dec scrolls back up to the top though, because he honestly just can’t deal with that right now and… here he is again, smiling at Ant, looking like he’s happy, proud, carefree and very much in love.

‘Weird,’ he says again.

Cat laughs at him, not mockingly so; it sounds soft and bright. ‘When the whole country is talking about you having an affair with your best friend and you go to a park and start snogging him senseless, then there’s absolutely nothing weird about it ending up on the internet.’

‘No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just so weird to see it like that,’ Dec explains. ‘It was a publicity thing that we did,’ he adds at the end, mumbling distractedly, like a non-too-important disclaimer.

‘Yeah, because that looks just like a publicity thing that you did,’ Cat laughs.

Dec just leaves it at that, and he’s not sure why - maybe he’s just tired of explaining something he doesn’t understand himself, maybe he just doesn’t care that much anymore.

‘I’m sorry it came out- The whole thing, I mean… I’m sorry that it came out like that. It’s not fair. You deserved better,’ Cat says then, much more serious, and Dec looks up.

For a moment he doesn’t know what to say, because for the first time someone actually acknowledged this, someone expressed just how wrong this whole situation is, the fact that someone outed them against their will, poking into their personal life uninvited, (not to say that they are not at fault here, but cheating and lying, those are the crimes they are guilty of, and surely, surely the punishment-like attention for being in an affair that happens to be a gay one, while simultaneously being on television is not fair on any level) and it’s quite overwhelming to hear his own thoughts of injustice directly expressed to him.

In the end he just smiles at her gratefully, ‘Thanks.’

‘But you know. That’s just your fabulous showbiz life, isn’t it? Can’t go anywhere without being recognised, you poor souls. Fame, fortune, sex, money, scandals…! Maybe you should murder someone next. Ooh, or better: have a reality show!’ she teases him and Dec can’t help himself but hit her in the shoulder playfully.

‘Shut up.’

‘Ooor, maybe you should make a sex tape. That would sell well. Let me know if you wanted to. I know some people,’ she offers, mock-serious and looking at him with overly-scandalous eyes, but she can’t keep a straight face for long.

‘Oh, shut your face…’ Dec hits her again.

They laugh like they just said goodbye to each other yesterday, after a long morning of doing SM:TV, and it’s refreshing to be able to have fun with someone who’s not Ant. Maybe takes the pressure off their relationship a bit. Maybe Dec needs reminding sometimes that he’s capable of existence without Ant by his side every single minute of the day, so he can cherish the time that they do spend together even more.

It feels good and easy to be with Cat like that, but in a way it’s also nerve-wrecking, because of what Dec knows is coming next. They are at that point in the conversation. And indeed, although Cat is still smiling at him brightly, her voice turns sincere as she asks in a much quieter voice, 'You two okay?'

Dec sighs. He decides, he’s not so much uncomfortable talking about it, as he just doesn’t have the answers. Because the ‘you two okay’ question is way more complicated than it actually appears to be on the surface. Are they? Dec wants to think so, but he had just one too many panicky breakdowns in various bathrooms over the last couple of days to be able to say that they are with complete certainty. So many things have gone wrong today already and it’s not even show time.

'Yeah,’ he says, but his voice doesn’t come out right. He clears his throat. ‘Getting there,' is what he eventually manages, because he doesn’t want to sound bitter, he doesn’t want to appear as morbidly fed up as he actually feels.

Cat however is not the type of person who is satisfied with that kind of answer, and actually, wow, how could Dec even think that she was going to just let it go that easily? They really do need to meet up more often.

‘So… hang on, you are in a relationship then?' she presses, somehow making it sound like it’s the least intrusive question ever.

Dec still doesn’t have the answers however, no matter how relentless or good at this Cat is, so he goes for something light-hearted. 'Well, everyone seems to think so,' he says dismissively, not looking her in the eye.

'What kind of answer is that?' she asks with furrowed eyebrows, but also like she’s worried that she’s gone just a bit too far this time.

Dec sighs, more just frustrated with himself than anything anything else, really. 'The I don't know kind. It's just… this whole talking about things is pretty new to me, sorry. I mean…’ he trails off. ‘It's like no one's surprised. Like people were expecting it,’ it almost explodes out of him, the words coming quick and loud; this has been bothering him for a while now. ‘Like everyone fucking secretly knew about it like…!’

There is a moment of silence and Cat is looking at him with this very very patient expression on her face, like she’s waiting for him to realise something, like she wants him to figure it out on his own.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Dec curses when he finally understands. ‘I give up,’ he says, looking up at the ceiling. ‘I fucking give up. Why is it even such a big deal if every person on this bloody planet knew about it, huh? Why? If this is not even new information to anyone, why does it still make the front page of every shitty tabloid in this stupid country like? Aren’t people more interested in… I don’t know, Posh and Becks, or something?!’

Cat laughs at him, but she’s rubbing at his shoulder comfortingly. She leans over the counter then, rummaging for a bit, then turning back towards Dec with a plastic teaspoon.

‘Well, not everyone knew about it,’ she says consolingly, fishing out the teabags from both of the teas that Dec has already completely forgotten about. She dumps them unceremoniously on top a single napkin, drenching the whole counter immediately and looking like she couldn’t care less. She puts down the spoon and looks into Dec’s face with a part-apologetic, part-pleading expression. ‘But, I mean - and I’m only speaking for myself here -, if you think about it, you were never really careful about it when it was just the three of us, so I just assumed you thought that I knew, and I mean, it wasn't exactly a big deal, so…'

Dec lets out a disbelieving little laugh. 'Ant was with Lisa though. I was dating Clare-'

Cat holds up a hand, before he could go any further than that. ‘I’m not saying I understood exactly what was going on, Dec, but you know... It’s the two of you. It’s just your thing,’ she explains easily.

‘Our thing,’ Dec repeats incredulously.

‘Well, yeah,’ she grins at him bright and happy, stunning Dec into silence for a moment.

‘I feel like I have to go now and re-evaluate my life,’ he deadpans finally and Cat laughs warmly.

‘Better now than never,’ she says. Cheeky. ‘Where’s your loved up other half, then?’

‘Dressing room,’ Dec replies, only bothering to roll his eyes at that, and well, okay, maybe he understands why so many people have always taken this for granted - they never exactly discouraged the notion that there was something between them deeper than friendship. But it never really bothered him, he was never really iffy about assumptions like that. If that’s even possible, he was always sort of clear on where he stood: pretty much very into blonde girls, but kind of also very much happily attached to Ant in every way possible. A bit of teasing about their closeness was always welcome, met with a slightly embarrassed, but mostly proudly possessive smile or a funnier counter-joke. It never even occurred to either of them to get prissy about it, especially because most of it was… well, true.

‘We still have a bit of time, I think, if you wanna come, see him before the show?’ he suggests, looking at his watch. He grabs both teas when Cat nods and starts making his way out of the green room with her close behind.

‘Oh yeah, how’s the show going?’ Cat asks as they walk down a corridor, seemingly having realised that for now, she’s not going to get anything more specific out of him, relationship-wise.

‘Well, you know…’ Dec shrugs. ‘It’s okay, I think. It’s one big gay joke, the whole thing, with loads of embarrassing bits and making fun of ourselves, but we never had too much dignity anyway.’

‘So you’re acknowledging it,’ she nods seriously.

‘We can’t just ignore it, to be fair,’ he smiles back tepidly.

Cat shakes her head. ‘I know plenty of people who would. And you have to give yourself credit when you’re doing something right.’

‘Hah, yeah, because doing something right is exactly what this is. Forced out of the closet and we are gracious enough to acknowledge it. Well done us!’

They are suddenly stopped when they get to the next turn - a couple of stage-hands seemingly have tried to move a large piece of the stage set through the corridors, but now it’s stuck. Dec is assured by several people rapidly that the issue is going to be solved any minute now, but he just raises his eyebrows at them, like he couldn’t be less fazed by this catastrophic turn of events and leans on a wall casually, continuing his conversation with Cat, waiting to be able to get through.

‘You see, a tiny part of me thought, you two put the picture out,’ Cat says in a way that’s almost outrageously shy, especially coming from her.

‘What, that we did this whole thing on purpose?’ Dec asks back, definitely not as outraged as he perhaps would have been a day, maybe even hours ago.

She nods silently.

‘You’re not the first person to accuse me of that today,’ Dec remarks, surprised to detect humour in his own voice. ‘Ant and you should really make a Facebook group for that or something.’

He laughs, but Cat just gapes at him. ‘Wait, he said what?’

Dec sighs again. ‘I don’t know, Cat,’ he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. There are quite a few people mulling around now, waiting for the corridor to be free to walk again, but the casual chatting of people and the shouts of the stage-hands make enough noise for Dec to deem it a safe environment to have this conversation in. He’s at a point where he doesn’t care much anyway, to be fair.

‘At first it was just that we reacted really differently,’ he starts explaining it, from the start, from the beginning, like he never had a chance to do so with his Mam, like he felt too awkward to with Ali, and too uncomfortable with his sister. ‘He automatically tried to defend what they had with Lisa, which is fair enough, but for me, it was all about finally doing what we should have done ten years ago. Being honest about it. I guess,’ he chuckles, realising the irony of it just now, ‘I reacted like everyone else, assuming that we’d be together now that’s it out, just taking it for granted.

‘But then he broke up with Lise, but decided not to tell me, so I could choose to leave him if I wanted to apparently, or… whatever the fuck that was about,’ he looks at Cat here significantly, with a “can you believe how stupid and annoying he is” kind of look, and when Cat laughs (surprised a little, but indulging) it feels like the best thing in the whole wide world.

‘And well, I’m definitely not with Ali, but it’s just… well, there were some trust-’ Dec stops himself before he could say “issues”. ‘There were some trust things… On my part, mainly. And maybe that’s why he seems to think that it’s like honesty hour now or something, because he keeps coming up with all these things that he never told me and I just… fuck, I wish we could just… Stop time or something. Call half-time. Because we have no idea how to handle any of this fucked up thing and we… put these people through this thing, this sick thing, for… for years! I mean, Mam’s not talking to me, Lisa is fucking heartbroken, but like, still taking it in her stride, Ali is fucking amazing, doing the manager things, and… fuck, there’s Clare and Georgie and so many other people that we just… fucked. And for what? So we can shag each other? It’s like I never even realised how stupid this whole thing…’ his rant stops suddenly and abruptly, with him having to take an almost unexpected breath out of nowhere, but then he shrugs and lets out an indignant little huff, not bothering to finish his sentence.

‘You’re actually fighting?’ Cat asks into the silence, her eyes a very deep brown.

‘I guess, we finally got to the point of breaking. We always said, it’d happen one day and it wasn’t healthy that we never fought.’ Dec suddenly wonders for a second if it was actually them who always said this, or if it was just one of them, and if yes, which one. He shakes his head, letting go of this pointless thought.

‘It wasn’t just shagging though, Dec. You are in love. You can’t control that,’ Cat says quietly, reminding Dec of a negotiator trying to talk someone off a roof, someone who’s very determined to jump.

‘Well, fuck. I don’t know what the right answer is or what we should have-’ a sudden picture-perfect memory startles him into silence. An echoing church corridor, eight or so years ago, him running, trying to comprehend what’s just happened, trying not to throw up, just running and running, like the coward he is, the fucking mess that he was that day. But, no. He did the right thing. Or… did he? Wasn’t it always going to end like this, out in the open? Didn’t he just postpone the inevitable by not doing what he was prepared to finally go through with that day? ‘We are still responsible for all of this,’ he says gravely after a while, after collecting himself a bit.

‘I wasn’t expecting you to be fighting though,’ Cat says, sort of just thinking aloud.

‘Neither did we,’ Dec replies, grimacing. ‘We ran out of secrets today though, I think,’ he adds, almost like an after-thought, not sounding as hopeful as he’d like. ‘Don’t look at us like that,’ he asks Cat pleadingly when she stares at him, looking a bit like she’s never seen him in her life.

‘Sorry,’ she says, catching herself. ‘I- I guess, I just thought, you would be more…’

‘Prepared for something like this?’ Dec finishes her sentence, laughing humourlessly. ‘Yeah, no, ‘cos, we’re idiots like. But I think for Ant it was way easier to get over all this. It’s like he jumped from this is not serious, it’s never been, to this place where he’s just incredibly comfortable with everything and… I guess, this is what I always wanted and now I know this, but I was just so fucking afraid that I never admitted it to myself and I’m still pretty much just scared shitless,’ he concludes. ‘Well. That’s where we are right now. That’s what I mean by I don’t know.’

Cat seems to think about it for a moment, taking it all in, processing, then - looking as enlightened as it goes - she says, ‘You’ve been struggling with this for a lifetime, Decs. You had way too much time to think about it and make up all these problems in your head, whether they are real or not. You just have more to get through than he does,’ she says and Dec is a bit taken aback by how it’s actual sensible advise, even if it can just be translated into a simple “give it time”. ‘Like the wedding thing?’ Cat adds tentatively and oh, fuck.

‘Shit. I forgot you knew about that,’ Dec shakes his head, pointedly staring at his shoes. The pain he expects from the mention of the wedding doesn’t come this time (maybe he’s exhausted his quota for the day or it’s too soon, from a moment ago when he thought about it, to hurt properly again), and that’s unusual, but he does feel more embarrassed than he has in a long while, and that’s really something, considering he just had several close-up pictures of snogging Ant’s face off exposed to, and tabloid-pushed-down-the-throats of, most of the country’s population.

‘I was there,’ Cat says significantly. ‘I don’t just know about it, I fucking saw it happen.’

Dec is infinitely thankful for the distraction of someone coming up to him, saying that the set piece really is stuck and maybe they are better off choosing a different route and just going the long way around, so the wedding topic is left well and alone. Dec exchanges pleasantries about this overall quite sitcom-humorous turn of events with the person and (‘They were not supposed to move it through here, but a couple of the new guys didn’t know,’ he explains to Cat) turns around to walk back the way they came from.

‘So… I mean, I just assumed that you’re like together, especially after the pictures, but now I’m… not so sure?’ Cat continues her probing, and despite his general and automatic annoyance by this line of questioning, Dec finds that it’s really nice to complain to someone about all this.

‘Yeah. Yeah? Maybe. Probably.’ Dec shoots her a painful smile when he realises how stupid that sounded. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘Have you talked about it?’ she asks, laughing a little, as they turn onto another corridor.

‘We… sort of did,’ Dec confirms, but then he goes off-topic, his thoughts racing too fast for him to make them coherent enough to even just stop himself from casually blurting them out. ‘Today he said I love you to me in the most casual way and I said it back without even thinking about it and I feel like… It doesn’t feel like a normal relationship, like we didn’t have any of those moments, like we never even had a first date like, but I feel like I’ve been dating him since I was twenty or something – how is that right?’ he asks, feeling every bit as pathetic as he know he must sound.

‘It can’t be right just because it’s not usual?’ Cat asks back wonderingly, for some reason still humouring Dec. ‘Okay, so you didn’t have a traditional I love you moment, so what?’ (Dec opens his mouth here, because while they might not have had a so-to-speak “traditional” I love you moment - and Ant might stupidly deny that that was their first one on top of that -, it was still pretty romcom-like, thank you very much, involving some leftover curry, crap telly and Peter Andre being their upstairs neighbour playing a weirdly significant role in all of it, but then he thinks better of it and just lets Cat continue without interrupting). ‘You have other things. You have a kind of connection that most people wouldn’t ever dare dream of…’

‘I guess so,’ Dec says awkwardly. He still finds it incredibly strange how other people perceive their relationship, how other people consider his day-to-day normal to be unique and special. Not to say, he’s not aware of how lucky he is to have found Ant, it’s just…

He stops at a door leading to a set of service stairs, holds it open for Cat, lets her grab onto his arm as she - surprisingly elegantly - struggles down them in her heels. ‘It’s just confusing and I feel like I can’t figure it out - any of it,’ he says finally. ‘And there’s just so much pressure from everywhere to do the right thing and be so many things and it’s bloody all over the papers like and…’

‘I really didn’t expect you to be this hesitant about this,’ Cat says earnestly, stopping for a moment.

Dec looks at her. Then with new-found energy, ‘I mean just because it’s supposed to work, just because it’s us, it doesn’t mean that it actually will. We’re just jumping into it and there’s no time to adjust, not like when you’re actually dating someone, to get used to them, to figure out their habits and-‘

‘But, Dec…’ she interrupts him, sounding astonished. ‘You don’t need to do that,’ she laughs incredulously, shaking her head.

He looks at her, a bit frustrated, waiting for her to explain.

‘You know all this. Yeah, this might be an issue for other people who get together like this, from an affair or whatever, and yeah, it might be an adjustment, a hard one, but the pair of you are…’ she laughs again, almost fondly, ‘…strange and weird and… just think it through! You know what’s it like to live with him. You see each other every single day. You know his habits, you know what he does first thing in the morning, you know how he takes his coffee, you have shared a bathroom together, you do actually go shopping together. Dec, you have a joint twitter account for god's sake,' she finishes, looking like she’s clearly just won this whole thing altogether.

Dec opens his mouth to snarl back at her, but then he realises, he’s not sure what to say. After a while he just puts a hand on her lower back to usher her forwards and in the right direction. They don’t say much of anything for the rest of the way; Dec deep in his thoughts, Cat clicking with her heels like she’s the queen of the universe or something and she just solved Dec’s every problem single-handedly.

Well, Dec thinks with a wry smile, as he hands her the teas so he can open his dressing room door. Maybe she is. And maybe she didn’t exactly solve everything, but. This is definitely a start, or… maybe even a clear sighting of a finish line that, until a minute ago, Dec wasn’t even sure - couldn’t possibly hope! - existed.

chapter 30

[shima-draws]

Canoodling

Hey guys I wrote a really, really silly, stupidly goofy MBAV oneshot so hERE YOU GO I GUESS (It’s also on Archive under the user Shima2112.)

But yeah as I said this is really really dumb but it's fluffy so I hope you like it anyway!

The sounds of distorted laughter filter through the crack of Ethan's bedroom door, but it does nothing to disturb the current insanity that is The Tomb of the Damned, a bowl of popcorn and a certain best friend named Benny Weir. "Zombie!" Benny cries out, jerking back violently in his chair. His jade eyes are wide with suspense as he narrowly misses being bitten—definitely easier said than done, seeing as it's happened to him in real life before. "If you hadn't noticed, we're sort of surrounded by them," Ethan comments dryly, mashing the buttons on his controller. Level nine is the one of the hardest in the whole game, and they still haven't managed to conquer it yet. Even so, Ethan knows that his genius and Benny's wicked skills will win them the round. Soon, hopefully. This is how they usually spend their Friday nights, cooped up in Ethan's room while Jane leads Sarah into another round of Dance Dance Revolution. Needless to say Sarah's walked away with some pretty impressive hip hop skills and a pocketful of cash every week, so that's a plus.

It isn't long before the boys are cornered by flesh-eating monsters, and the garbled screams of their avatars echo in the air as they're devoured alive. Both of them groan simultaneously at this, having ended up this way too many times to count. They'll beat the level yet. "Lame," Benny sighs, leaning his head back over the chair. He catches Ethan's eye and grins mischievously, eyes almost glowing in the dim light. He does that sometimes, with the help of his magic, to seem more intimidating. Ethan just thinks it's kinda cool. "Hey, E," he drawls, grinning crookedly at him. "Wanna make out?" Ethan raises an eyebrow at him, completely unfazed. "If you expect me to be impressed by that, then you're an idiot." "Aww, boo!" Benny whines, flailing his arms like a child. Ethan barely manages to move the popcorn bowl out of the way before his friend's mini tantrum scatters it all over the carpet. "Come oooon," the brunette begs, curling both of his fists up under his chin, trying to look like a puppy begging for attention. He might as well be one. "But I wove you, E. And I wanna kiss you. Smooches!" "Stop being a dork!" Ethan laughs, playfully smacking him upside the head. "Ouch!" Ethan shakes his head amusedly as he sets to cleaning up the little mess they've made and setting the controllers aside for later. "My boyfriend is such a meanie," Benny sighs dramatically, laying a palm across his forehead. "He never ever wants to cuddle with me. After all I do for him." "Benny," Ethan says warningly, clicking his tongue. All he gets in response is a raspberry. Eventually the taller teen stands and stretches, a satisfied noise leaping out of his throat when his back pops. He watches quietly as Ethan goes about his work, throwing empty cans into the trash and wiping up any crumbs off of his desk. "Ethan," Benny starts, his fingers waving in preparation. "Hmm?" "Immaculatus." A flash of blue lights up the room and Ethan pulls back to see that his desk is completely spotless and everything is arranged as it should be. Immediately he turns to face the smug-looking spellmaster. "Benny, you know you shouldn't rely on magic to do simple tasks all the time," Ethan chastises. "Ugh, you sound like grandma," Benny complains, flopping back on the other teen's bed. "I know, I know! But I also need to practice my magic, so there." The raven sighs deeply and smiles, unable to help it. "Come 'ere," Benny murmurs. He holds out his arms for Ethan, beckoning him over. "Wanna hold you." Without anything better to do, Ethan gives in, laughing as Benny sweeps him up into his embrace and positions them so that they're facing each other, side by side, their legs intertwined. "Mmm!" Benny hums, delighted, as he nuzzles up against Ethan. "There," Ethan whispers. "You have me. Are you happy now?" "Yes," Benny responds, his smile dazzling. The seer smiles and rests his head against Benny's chest, melting into his hold. Benny can be absolutely ridiculous sometimes when it comes to getting attention, but Ethan loves him anyway. It's all just part of who he is, something that Ethan's accepted wholeheartedly. "I love you," Benny mumbles into his hair, voice raw with honesty and emotion. Ethan shifts so that he's facing him, brushing wispy hazel hair away from Benny's eyes. "Love you too." The brunette breaks out into a wide grin, looking like the sun itself. Then his expression morphs into a thoughtful one, before he suddenly cries out in excitement, latching onto Ethan's arms and staring him straight in the face. "Are we—are we canoodling?" Benny asks, nearly speechless. Immediately another huge smile spreads across his lips and he giggles. Ethan raises an eyebrow at this, incredulous. Is he actually being serious right now? "Oh my god, we totally are!" "Benny," Ethan groans, fondly exasperated. "We're canoodling, E. I love you so much," Benny coos, pressing fervent kisses to his cheeks and nose. "Mmph," is Ethan's response as Benny finally captures his lips in his own, humming happily. When they break apart the spellcaster is laughing softly, emerald eyes twinkling with some strange sort of joy that makes Ethan's heart warm. "Is that your favorite word now?" Ethan whispers, breathing out a chuckle. "It's always been my favorite word to describe this," Benny answers, gesturing to their cuddling position and his fingers that are tangled in Ethan's thick black locks. The dark-haired teen grins. "Oh, yeah?" "Remember that time I showed you those drawings of Sarah and Kurt? You said they were awful," Benny pouts, leaning forward to playfully nip at the other boy's nose. "Yes, I do. And you said that they were canoodling." "That I did. And they were. And now we are!" He chirps, beaming. Ethan can't help but chortle at the look of pure happiness on Benny's face. "We're canoodling," Benny sings, a snort of laughter escaping him. Ethan rolls his eyes and curls his hand around the back of Benny's neck, who is still sniggering to himself. "Are you high?" He questions amusedly, raising an eyebrow. "Nope, definitely not," Benny bursts into another fit of giggles, leaning down to kiss Ethan's ear, who yelps at the feeling. "Benny," Ethan squeals as hot breath washes over his ear, shuddering as Benny continues to laugh and laugh. "You are crazy!" Ethan announces, successfully pushing the taller brunette off of him. His hands slide up to cup at Benny's cheeks, who is still grinning, eyes dancing with merriment. "Crazy about you," Benny responds dreamily, his eyes falling half-mast. "Oh my god," Ethan groans, throwing his head back. "You're so goddamn...corny!" "Aww, but you love me, E!" Benny crows, flopping on top of him and showering him in kisses again. "And I," he kisses in between words, almost breathless from it, "love you." Ethan makes another irritated sound, fighting the blush that is rising on his cheeks. "B, that's gay." "I am gay," Benny points out obviously. "Yes, and I'm a moron for putting up with you," Ethan murmurs, kissing the corner of his friend's mouth. "Now shut up and continue with whatever this is we're doing." Right after he says that a pleased smile appears on Benny's face again. "Canoodling," he whispers, pupils blown out. "Kissing," Ethan corrects, yanking him down to connect their lips again.

I just love to imagine that after they start dating Benny says canoodling ALL THE TIME

If you guys know me you'll notice the combined Ready Player One and Be More Chill reference I threw in there at the beginning wow

ANYWAY I hope that wasn't too sappy for you lol and thanks for reading! I'll definitely be uploading more Bethan oneshots in the future, some full with more angst than this one anyway haha so look forward to that!

[megaphonemonday]

why do the yankees always win? - ch. 7

chapter summary: ... come to an end

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | ao3

Mike couldn’t say when, exactly, Ginny’s belongings begin to disappear from his apartment. 

It happens too gradually, and he’s got too many irons in the fire, but one day, Mike looks around and the apartment feels empty. Lonely.

There isn’t a crumb-filled plate on the side table next to Ginny’s corner of the couch. His shaving cream stands alone on the bathroom counter, surrounded by the space all of Ginny’s toiletries left behind. Her side of the bed remains untouched, and all of it is hitting him out of nowhere.

It’s not that he hasn’t noticed that she’s spending fewer nights with him, but that’s economy more than anything else. Ginny’s started her physical therapy in earnest now. It makes more sense for her to be close to Petco, and that means staying at the Omni. Anyway, Mike’s taking more shifts at the dealership than usual, so it’s not like he’s spending much time at the apartment either.

If she were around more often, Mike’s sure he wouldn’t get away with avoiding questions about his suddenly full schedule. Not that he really knows how he’d answer. 

As it is, Ginny doesn’t ask many questions. 

(She’d frowned the first and last time she brought it up. “It’s Saturday. You’re really going into work?”

Mike had just shrugged, as if to say, “Rich people and their cars. What can I do?” and dropped a kiss to her forehead. What he did say, when he pulled back and she was still frowning, was, “My landlord will thank me when my rent check doesn’t bounce. I’ll be back by seven. Let me know if I should bring back dinner.”

If he were less distracted by his mental calculations, trying to figure out how many commissions he needed before life could go back to normal, he might’ve noticed the anxiety on Ginny’s face. He might’ve read the tension in her shoulders and neck, the way her eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his lips to her furrowed brow. 

He wasn’t, though, so he didn’t.)

He might feel better about it if she did, though. Feel less like he’s keeping secrets. 

Which. He definitely is, but that’s semantics.

How can he explain these new long hours without outright lying? Strange as it is, money’s never been a big issue between them. The fact that she’s got a multi-million dollar contract with the Padres and most of his income comes from commission, not his pittance of a salary, hasn’t bothered him before. 

If anything is going to make Mike uncertain or self-conscious about his relationship with Ginny, it isn’t money. Not when photographers and fans and so-called journalists follow her every move. 

Besides, It’s not like Ginny’s begging to go out to expensive restaurants or on fancy vacations. And if she did, Mike’s pretty sure she wouldn’t expect him to pay. He likes to think he’s evolved enough to be comfortable with letting his girlfriend pay his way around. Occasionally. If he got a really fancy vacation and vacation sex out of the deal. 

As it is, there’s no point in trying to impress her with more than his ability to prepare a home-cooked meal and make her forget everything aside from his name in bed. 

Luckily, Mike’s pretty fucking good at both of those things.

Unluckily, he’s also pretty fucking good at keeping secrets.

It’s almost unconscious, the way he manages this one, keeps the truth from Ginny as deftly as he’s ever conned a mark. But it’s not like Mike’s proud of it. The fact of the matter is that he’s no stranger to the strategic manipulation of information.

Which doesn’t mean he’s lying to Ginny. She hasn’t come out and asked him why he needs to work so much when he’s never been more than ambivalent about his career. If anything, it’s a sin of omission. And one that should keep her from getting hurt.

That has to matter. Right? 

(Just because he tries to make himself feel better, doesn’t mean he’s that successful.)

There are too many questions and none of them have easy answers. He torments himself all day at work, only half his attention on clients and cars, the other half focused on the endless litany churning through his mind.

How the hell is he supposed to tell her that his mom’s a con artist? How does he tell her he used to be one, too? How does he say his mom thinks their relationship is just another con? Or that she wants in on the payout? How does he tell Ginny that he hasn’t set his mom straight? How does he tell her that he’s going to pay her off, just with his own money? How does he break that news without making her question everything else he’s ever told her?

How does he get out of this without breaking Ginny’s trust?

And that’s the heart of it.

Ginny had a rough childhood of her own and Mike wants to believe that she wouldn’t judge him for his own past, not if he tells her the truth of it all and how it’s threatening to detonate in the present. But there are years, decades even, of his mom’s warnings and threats and scare tactics keeping him quiet. As a kid, the truth could, and sometimes did, get them run out of town, once someone figured out Jackie Lawson’s game and Mike’s place in it all. 

For nearly eighteen years, he’d been his mom’s literal partner in crime. Her shill.

It’s not something Mike’s ever admitted to anyone, doesn’t even like admitting it to himself. He just can’t imagine anyone’s opinion of him not changing in the face of that knowledge.

And if there’s anyone in the world whose good opinion and trust he craves, it’s Ginny Baker.

The fact that he currently has it makes its potential loss all the more gutting.

Jesus, this is quite the bed he’s made for himself. 

After the months they’ve spent together, all the things he’s learned about Ginny, this isn’t the kind of information he can just laugh off. 

“Oh, did I not mention that my estranged mother wants me to extort you for thousands of dollars? No? Haha, my bad, Gin. Anyway, what should we have for dinner?”

Yeah fucking right.

Even if she believes that he doesn’t actually have a plan to pull a long con on her, there’s no way that Mike gets out of this without telling her about his past. And his past isn’t like Ginny’s: tough but ultimately the backbone of her success. 

Mike’s past was just tough.

Much as he tries to leave that past behind him, he should have known better than to expect it to stay there.

(“Hey, ma,” he’d said, that first call, some sixth sense kicking in despite the unknown number listed on caller ID. 

“Mikey,” she’d greeted, as sweet as ever. Well, when she wanted something at least.

The last he’d heard, Jackie Lawson had been running a clip joint somewhere near Bakersfield. This was after stepdad #3 decided he was no longer interested in funding her spending habits. Gone were the days of short game after short game, cutting and running at the first whiff of trouble. It was almost as if she was growing as a person. 

Almost.

“What do you want?” he sighed, muting the television. Something told him it would be better to give all his attention to this conversation.

“A woman can’t call her son?”

“Not when it’s been five years since the last call.”

Jackie sighed, sounding put upon. Perversely, Mike couldn’t help but feel guilty. This was his mother, for God’s sake. It was easy to get hung up on her questionable qualities, but there had been good times. His mom wasn’t a complete monster. He could’ve picked up the phone, too. 

Like she could sense him weakening, Jackie pounced.

“Phones work two ways, you know,” she sniffled, sounding genuinely distressed. Then again, his mom was the person who’d taught him how to make crocodile tears convincing at the tender age of six. “A mother shouldn’t have to find out about the new woman in her son’s life from the papers. Why wouldn’t you tell me about her, Mike? She’s lovely. And so successful...”

There it was. Leave it to her to come out of the woodwork only after paparazzi shots of him and Ginny out at the San Diego Zoo went viral. 

Good old mom. 

She’d gone on to congratulate him, in a mostly roundabout way—plausible deniability after all—about his future score, probing at his methods and testing for weak spots or whether there was any chance he’d let her in on it.

He got so turned around that he ended the conversation without denying, emphatically, everything. For Jackie, that’d been as good as a confirmation.)

Mike can’t blame her— Well, he can and he does, but Jackie Lawson is and always has been a two-bit con artist. She doesn’t have the patience for long games, always opting for the quick pay day, even when the risks are greater. After 36 years, Mike’s finally learned not to expect more of her. That ship has long since sailed. The scent of the biggest payoff she’d ever see, even if it isn’t strictly real, was bound to draw her out. 

Which is why he still hasn’t corrected the confusion. Why he hasn’t told her that he’s just in love, or something dangerously close to it. And why he is going to send his mom some money from this nonexistent con. 

He’s got some savings built up. A few more big commissions and he can offer Jackie Lawson a pay day. One that will maybe convince her to give up on the ever-elusive big score and go into retirement. Or whatever it is that second-rate grifters do in their twilight years. 

If it also keeps her from showing up in San Diego herself and detonating his entire life, then all the better. 

Most importantly, it shields Ginny from all of this bullshit. It gives Mike room to tell her about his childhood and his mom and everything that goes with them on his own terms. Hopefully, he could preserve the fragile, perfect bubble insulating the honeymoon stage of his relationship with Ginny.

With all the time Ginny’s been spending at the Omni, her steadily disappearing possessions from his apartment, and the way she’s been texting him less and less, though, maybe the bubble’s already popped.

When he shuffles into his quiet apartment after a long day at the dealership—managed to upsell some bored, young finance guy on a Maserati that he’d probably end up totaling within three months. Good for his future commission cuts if not that beautiful piece of machinery—Mike lets himself hope for a moment that Ginny will be there, waiting for him. 

He can practically see her, sitting cross-legged on the couch, her hair piled on top of her head and yelling at the TV. Whether it’s because of NC State’s poor performance or clueless Jeopardy! contestants is always up for debate, but the smile she’d give him isn’t. Wide and bright and quick, it’s enough to make Mike melt, no matter how awful his work day went. 

God, he loves that smile.

All that waits for him on the couch, though, are a pile of bills and the hoodie she’d forgotten when they had dinner together four nights ago. 

Idly, he picks it up and inhales the lingering scent of Ginny. It’d probably be embarrassing if anyone saw him do it, but Mike might actually be beyond caring. 

She’d shown up at his door, looking as fresh-faced and energetic as ever in spite of the long workout he knew she’d just completed—couldn’t neglect her legs or core, even with a bum arm. And she didn’t come alone. A bag from the burger place in Encinitas he’d shown her hung by her side. Before he could ask how she’d gotten them—her appointment to take her license exam was still a few weeks away—she’d given him a lopsided smile and admitted to asking a clubby to go pick them up for her. 

Mike shook his head, rolling his eyes, but still reeled Ginny into his side so he could revel in the feel of her against him. Slumping, she leaned most of her weight on him, the only indication she gave of how worn out she was. Well, he’d gladly bear that weight for her. As long as Ginny let him. She’d sighed and held him as tightly as he did her.

It’d been a quiet night, the two of them settling on the couch to watch basketball and eat their burgers. She was quiet, but Mike mostly thought that was because she didn’t have much of an opinion on the Lakers-Wolves game he’d put on. He asked a few questions about her PT and she shrugged them off, not that he could blame her. Mike had to imagine pretty much everyone in her life wanted to talk about her PT: how it was going, did she feel stronger, when could she start throwing again. If Ginny needed him to be the one person who didn’t, he would gladly be that for her. 

So, he let his arm drop around her shoulder and let her lean against his side and just relax. 

When she eventually rose to go, Mike didn’t argue, much as he wanted her back in his bed. He hadn’t been sleeping well and wanted to believe having her with him would help. At the very least, when he woke in the middle of the night, he’d be able curl around her. Instead, he simply followed her to the door, pressed a goodnight kiss to her full lips, and told her to sleep well. She’d pulled back and searched his face for a long moment before turning and walking away, out of sight.

That was four days ago, though.

Now, Mike is reduced to burying his face in his girlfriend’s sweatshirt and pretending it’s even close to actually having her here. 

With a sigh, Mike looks around the dead apartment and tries to muster up any kind of desire to make dinner or do some of the dishes piling up in the sink.

Instead, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hopes that Ginny hasn’t already gone to bed. 

As the line rings, he shrugs out of his jacket and loosens his tie, sitting on the end of his bed to unlace his shoes. He stops all that, though, flopping back on the mattress when the ringing stops and Ginny’s familiar, low rasp comes in. 

“Hello?”

“Fuck, Gin,” he sighs down the line without preamble. Laying in bed isn’t the same without her curled beside him, without the smell of her shampoo drifting into his nose as she tucks her head against his shoulder. “I miss you.”

She hums and Mike has a visceral memory of her making that same sound and how it vibrated through her lips, straight into him. 

(That she’d had those lips wrapped around his dick at the time doesn’t make him ache for her any more, but that’s just because Mike doesn’t think it’s physically possible.

God, how deep in this thing is he?)

“You sure you don’t wanna come stay over tonight?” he offers weakly, already knowing her response.

“You know I’ve got an early appointment with the team physicians.”

“I do,” Mike allows. “Still wish you were here with me.”

“Well, I’m not, old man,” Ginny teases. If there’s something a little off in her delivery, he figures it’s just how tired she must be. “Deal with it.”

He chuckles. “Maybe if I had more to keep me company than this rank sweatshirt of yours, I could handle it better.”

Mike definitely expects her to laugh it off and ask about her sweatshirt. How the woman manages to keep her closet full of lycra and spandex-based workout clothes straight is a mystery, but Ginny’s got a an encyclopedic knowledge of each and every one. He’s sure she’s been going mad trying to figure out where this one got to.

Instead, there’s a long pause. He can practically hear her thinking.

“Like what?” she finally asks, slow and hesitant. “You want a picture?”

(If Mike were feeling less lonely, less turned on by the mere thought of Ginny arranging herself for an impromptu photoshoot, he would probably remember the hack and the selfies and the scramble and circus surrounding them. He’d probably hear the edge in her voice, the slight tremble of suspicion and anxiety. As it is, all he can think about is how hard he is at the mere suggestion of Ginny sprawled out on the pristine white sheets in her hotel room, snapping a picture just for him.)

He groans and doesn’t resist palming himself through his slacks. 

“There’s not a chance in hell I’m gonna say no to that, Gin.”

“How did I know?” Ginny laughs, but it’s not the bright, hoarse thing he’s used to. There’s definitely something off-key in it, more resigned than amused. 

Mike frowns and stops groping himself. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replies, quick and much closer to her usual tone. “Just tired. I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Oh. Yeah, all right,” he says, more than a little disappointed, and not just because it would be only him and his hand tonight. If Ginny doesn’t want to tell him what’s wrong, though, he can be patient, wait her out. Maybe she needs to figure it out on her own before she opens up. “Talk to you later?”

She hums again, murmurs a soft “Good night,” and the line goes dead. 

When he comes home from work the following day, the last of Ginny’s things are gone, odd little voids that makes the apartment feel emptier than it is. He trails through the space, taking in the dust ring from Ginny’s bottle of lotion on the coffee table and the absence of her spare running shoes in the closet. When he gets to his bedroom, a heavy sense of foreboding pooling in his gut, the nightstand where he’d left her sweatshirt (after falling asleep with his nose pressed in its folds) is empty, a short note left in its place.

Mike, 

There’s no other way to say this. I think it would be better if we don’t see each other any more. 

Please don’t try to contact me.

He reads it, over and over again, but the words never once rearrange themselves into anything less gut-wrenching. 

Automatically, he reaches for his phone, Ginny’s contact information appearing on the screen in spite of her last request. 

The line rings. Once.

“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please leave a message after the tone.”

He doesn’t bother, instead sinking to the bed, a mirror of the position he was in last night, talking to Ginny on the phone. Today, though, his head sinks to his hands, elbows propped on his knees, and there’s really only one thing to say.

“Fuck.” 

Fuck is right.