#i finally got the coloring right thank u jesus

[darealsaltysam]

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

[chestharrington]

will you do a gator blurb of him driving you home drunk (and handsy) from a party 🤭🤭

ANYTHING FOR YOU MY QUEEN 🥹 and I even gave u little wattpadcore fake text messages awwww. Anyways this is very short sorry pookie

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, some sexual situations but no smut

~~~~~

Sat on a barstool and drinking vodka sprites like they were water, you should’ve known better than to open your phone. Over the course of fifteen minutes, you’d managed to text Gator thirty-five times— a colorful assortment of gibberish and the rare coherent sentence. You decided to throw one final Hail Mary with clumsy, drunken thumbs.

Well, it wasn’t your most poignant message of all time, but it certainly got the point across. After all, you’d gotten your fair share of ‘you up?’ and ‘showering without me?’ texts from him. Within a minute, he finally responded to your onslaught of texts.

Well, it wasn’t a no. You hopped down from the barstool, wobbling slightly, and pushed through the patrons to squeeze into the women’s bathroom. After a tiny wait, you convinced yourself this was absolutely the best choice. You locked the handicap stall and pulled out your phone, trying your best to find a decent angle.

With a clumsy hand, you tugged down your tank top and snapped a few quick photos of your tits, which you sent him without a second thought.

You managed to finish one last vodka sprite at the bar before your phone buzzed in your pocket. A one word text from Gator.

You closed out your tab and stumbled towards the car outside, wearing a stupid, giddy smile at the sight of Gator glowering in the driver’s seat. He unlocked the passenger side door and you practically fell inside with a drunken giggle.

“Knew you’d come,” you said, leaning in to brush your lips along his jaw. “Wanted you so bad all night, baby.”

He sighed in annoyance and pushed you back into your seat firmly before you could fully climb into his lap. You kept your eyes on his as he reached over to buckle you into the seat. A soft gasp escaped you as his hands brushed across your hips, holding you still as he fumbled with the belt.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ mess, you know that? You smell like a liquor store.” You let your hands wander, teasing him through his cargos while he made sure you were buckled properly. He groaned at the feeling, then glared down at you. You giggled as he grabbed your hands and placed them back into your own lap. “Just stay still, alright? Jesus Christ.”

You gave an exaggerated pout and crossed your arms. “You didn’t like my pictures?” When he didn’t respond, you gave an exaggerated sigh. He paused at the stoplight and you tapped his shoulder very politely. “Is this better?”

You lifted your top, flashing him for the briefest moment before he yanked your top back down himself. His expression remained so serious that it made a flurry of giggles escape you.

“You’re such a good officer, Gator,” you cooed, running your hand along his muscled biceps then across his chest where his scratchy vest was. “So responsible and serious. Lemme thank you, baby.” You moved your hand back to his lap, letting your pretty manicured fingers dance along his thigh.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t even try.” He didn’t even bother glancing in your direction, so you moved your hands obediently back to your lap. The light turned green and he practically floored it. Outside, the lights of downtown streaked by like comets— an entire light display just for you. But all you could do was stare at how fucking handsome he looked.

“You’re gorgeous,” you said with a wistful sigh. “Does anyone ever tell you that?” When he shook your head, a frown played at your lips. “Well, they should. You’re so handsome, baby.”

He sighed and gave you a sidelong glance., the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly. “You’re real needy right now, huh?”

You nodded, trying your best to give him big puppy dog eyes. He patted your thigh and leaned over to kiss your forehead at the next stop sign, which made giddiness course through your very being.

He parked in front of your house, and opened the car door like a gentleman. You were stumbling as you walked beside him up the cobblestone walkway, which was annoying because you were trying your very best to look completely sober.

He got you into bed with as little resistance as possible, which wasn’t saying much. You kept trying to feel him up while he was helping you into pajamas, so he eventually gave up and only took off your shoes and jeans. Then was brushing your teeth, which was worst of all.

But the plush of your mattress and blankets was like a siren call once you got in— eyes fluttering sleepily the second your head hit the pillow.

“C’mere—“ you whined, grabbing at the air in his general direction.

He sighed. “I told ya, I’ve got work.”

“Skip,” you insisted, giving him your best pout until he relented. You were grinning like an idiot as he shirked off his clothes and climbed in beside you— your own personal space heater. “Thank you,” you hummed, resting your head against his chest.

“Yeah, whatever,” he sighed. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but it didn’t change the secret smile he wore once your eyes fluttered shut. He kissed the crown of your head, and shot off a text that an emergency came up that he had to take care of.

It was only mostly a lie, but he’d deal with that in the morning.

[softboynick]

sentence sunday - 7/7/2024

happy sunday! thank you for the tags @basil-bird @henryspearl @doublecheekedkinard

@eusuntgratie @wordsofhoneydew & @sheepywritesfics <333

now that i'm finished with my big bang i can finally focus on my other wips (please please please check out my fic for @aroyallybigbangrwrb if you haven't already hehe)!!! sharing two excerpts because i'm so proud of myself.

excerpt from untitled george x henry x alex abo fic:

Alexander is drunk.  “My sweet wife has come to join us!” He exclaims in his drunken stupor, spilling brandy all over the front of his shirt and staining it a rich ruby-brown. Laughter and intoxicated jeers ring throughout the room as he stumbles from the dais, his unstable gait taking him down the steps and towards Henry. He laughs and sweeps him into his arms, swallowing the omega’s protests with a heated kiss.  Henry is not amused. He places his hands on Alexander’s chest and pushes him away, but the king is unrelenting. He circles his arms around his waist and keeps him close. Henry wrinkles his nose at the scent of him. “You reek of brandy.” He glowers at the king and nearly growls, “Unhand me, alpha.” Alexander backs off almost instantly as though his hands have been burned. A wounded expression clouds his expression, his honey-brown eyes wide and watery.  “And you are angry,” he replies, small and chastised.  “I am so grateful that you have finally noticed,” Henry says tightly. His darkened eyes scan the room until they finally land on Lord Ramos, his wife, plump with child, sitting prettily on his lap. “You.” He pushes past his husband and stalks over to the man. “I told you what would happen if you ever dared to harm my George.”  Ramos stares at him as though he were some scum underneath the sole of his boot. Not a person but an inconvenience. His eyes are covered with a glassy sheen. “I haven’t touched him.” “He told me what you’ve done. What you have all done to him,” he addresses the other lords and gentlemen, his voice rising above the rest.   Ramos’ gaze is cool when it meets his, but there is a slight tick in his jaw. “He is a liar.” Henry frowns. “My dove is no liar.”  “Then, perhaps it is pox. It is making him delirious.”  He shakes his head and laughs, ugly and sharp. “You have the fucking gall to come here, look my husband in the eye, and pretend that you haven’t orchestrated an entire smear campaign against our George. You are a pathetic excuse for a human being, Lord Ramos.” He spits at his and his wife’s feet, satisfaction curling at his chest when he sees the stunned looks on their faces. 

excerpt from taynick rpfeet fic lmao:

The door swings open, and there is Taylor, fresh from a shower and giving him that smile that always makes Nick’s knees feel a little like jelly. He is similarly dressed in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, but the pants are slung low on his hips and are gray in color, showing off the obvious imprint of his— “You’re late,” Taylor says.  “I think I’m right on time actually,” Nick retorts with a grin.  Taylor lets him inside and heads for the couch on the other end of the room. He breathes out a sigh of relief as he plops down onto it and props his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.  “Jesus Christ, my feet are killing me,” Taylor groans, and Nick can’t pretend he isn’t filing that sound away for later. “Thanks for offering the massage, by the way. You’re truly a lifesaver, babes.” Nick thinks he might actually combust - or bust in his joggers, which will just be embarrassing for all parties involved - under the sheer weight of Taylor’s praise and attention, but he quickly pushes past the weird feelings in his chest (and his groin) and clears his throat.  “You got, uh, any lotion or something, mate?”

OPEN TAG + tagging the usual suspects bc i love u

@almightaylor @anincompletelist @bigassbowlingballhead @blueeyedgrlwrites @captainjunglegym

@duchessdepolignaca03 @firstprincehornyramblings @fivequartersoftheorange @fullerthanskippy @henrysfox

@heysweetheart-writes @insecuregodcomplex @judasofsuburbia @lfg1986-2 @meraki-yao

@mylucayathoughts @priincebutt @remembertheskittles @stratocumulusperlucidus @taste-thewaste

@thinkof-england @seths-rogens

[rcttencore]

wait till you hear about this next nominee: KANG JUYEONG, born on the 13th of AUGUST, 1993 and bears a striking resemblance to LEE SUNGKYUNG. they’re a FOURTH year BACHELOR OF FINANCE student and RAISED FUNDS TO BUILD THE UNIVERSITY'S FIRST CHAPEL — impressed yet? rumor has it they’re hoping to be the FINANCE DIRECTOR IN MBC, but personally, i think they should aim a little higher — something like the king’s club, for one. now, that suits them a little more, don’t you think? guess we’ll just have to see if they’ve got the talent for it in our upcoming recruitment round.

erm so hi again!! :D august, 21+, swapping one mess for another! i watched this one edit of the roy family to charli xcx's apple and i was like wow i need this canon.... fly high naeon (k*lled her off like they did with my favourite character in the boys season finale but we don't talk about that).. anyways, this is judgemental, elitist, ew poor people, miss kang juyeong! favourite granddaughter of mbc's ceo, who only gives a shit about you if you're old money rich!

super sorry to everyone i've spent the last 2 weeks plotting with, but i promise we'll brainstorm and come up with equally fun plots because she will most definitely cause drama!! ‪♡‬ like this plot for me to double-text you or just drop into your dms again!!

as always more info below!!

personality

inspo: charli xcx’s apple, the glory’s lee sara (thank U gloss for this), gen v’s cate dunlap (juyeong would be a homelander i fear), basically every member of the succession family (but mostly shiv roy’s entitlement), hints of scream queens' chanel oberlin & euphoria’s maddy  tropes: million dollar baby, the hellkite positive loyal, meticulous, articulate, cultured, protective negative pompous, hypocritical, judgemental, elitist, condescending cunt sun, whore moon, bitch rising leo sun, sag moon, leo rising

tbh shes pretty simple. just your typical snobby bitch who thinks people should just stop being poor and will tell u condescendingly about it

strong belief in maintaining a certain social order (if gatekeeping was a person, it'd be her) & extremely elitist 

she’s very big on keeping a good image for the camera (in public, at least, she’s not stupid!). all about smiling for the camera, showing your perfect self but close the doors, invite her to the king’s club, and she’ll show her true colors 

sharp tongue, has the tendency to be very dramatic (it's the leo in her)

she’s the biggest fucking hypocrite out there! she’ll act like the bible is her religion, no sin but then she’s snorting coke off some guy’s abs

but honestly, if ur in her inner circle then you’re kinda set for life. she’ll literally die for you. would go to the ends of the world for u. you ask for the moon? juyeong will get it for you. 

the kind who would provide you an alibi no matter what like ‘babe your boyfriend just called and asked where you were, i told him we were watching a movie but idk where you actually are’ vibes 

her feelings about hyungseo: she thinks he’s gaudy and tacky. although she begrudgingly accepts his presence in the king’s club, she does not like him at all!

background

she’s her grandfather’s favourite child - he thinks she’s like the second coming of jesus or something 

but in reality, it’s kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. he puts her up on a pedestal and spoils her rotten and she’s the only person in the whole family who wholeheartedly listens and believes him & his tradition.. so it kinda works! 

most of her cousins just write it off as an old man’s rambles and their families have enough money…and her older sister is the worst offender though she gets disowned when she’s sixteen for flipping her granddad on live television and just saying some nasty shit about the church her family runs (she gets written off because she’s a teenage girl right but there is truth to her words) 

as she grows older, there are things with her grandfather’s ideology that she doesn’t necessarily subscribe to but she likes the taste of privilege too much to act otherwise 

and she has her own set of values - it’s a mix of what she believes from the bible & what she’s been raised up with. do they contradict sometimes? yes! does juyeong really care? no, not at all! her moral code is whatever she believes to be

but one thing she keeps with her is that u should only trust and respect the generationally wealthy <3 the inner circle of the top 1% is life <3 family name is everything to her!

even with the king’s club, she got in via having connections who vouched for her and just generally made the rituals/ life easier lol 

she thought being in the king’s club would mean being with like-minded individuals but little did she know… people get in on the merit of hard work too! and not just their family names! ew! 

post grad, she’s working in mbc as a finance director (nepo baby vibes) 

her family is also going through shit after the whistleblower ratted them out for embezzlement and they’re going through Serious Investigations and… let’s just say juyeong is practicing escapism heavily (read: she’s pretending nothing is wrong)

plots

we can brainstorm but just some high level stuff! 

her inner circle please <3

people who have blackmail on her !!! like your family’s fucked. u want to make it worse for them? 

also people she does not respect and just has a general antagonistic relationship with !!

omg pls give me people who think her penance is due!! like she used to tell them to fuck right off because they were new money or whatever and now, your muse is like “who’s fucking laughing now?” [jojo siwa vc] karma’s a bitch

someone related to the plot, did something fucked up to hyungseo and juyeong saw but she’s taking it to the fucking grave bc she considers u a friend ~

juyeong fucks a someone she thinks isn't worthy of being in the king's club - alternatively, juyeong falls in love with someone she doesn't think should be in the king's club ^__^

[lingy910y]

thanks for tagging me @liamgallaghers 😻 love u

what’s your name? Ling

your sun sign: Virgo

the last song you listened to: Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers

what are you wearing right now? yellow cable-knit sweater & warm black pants with with some white as a pattern

how tall are you? 162 cm/ 5'3''

piercings? none

tattoos? none

glasses? contacts? yes, glasses. i just got a new pair recently! they have big lenses and have peach colored frames :)

last drink: water

last thing you ate: hawaiian sweet rolls

favorite color: red. specifically red violet/ magenta

any pets? none

do you have a crush on anyone? no. but my crush for 6 years finally faded away 😀

favorite fictional character: firecrotch, carrot top/ boy, orange boy, sparky, rectum boy, curtis, howdy doody, mr. millagher, sugar tits, army, mary poppins, cinderella, that chick from the movie brave, sleepyface, tough guy, dom top daddy, gay jesus, ianna.

a movie you think everyone should watch: idk by “everyone” cause everyone has different tastes and this one is very nsfw, but The Handmaiden. lesbians being gay and scamming men + plot twist after plot twist

a book you think everyone should read: we are the ants by shaun david hutchinson. literally shaking crying throwing up

the last place you traveled: connecticut 6 yrs ago

something you’re looking forward to: gallavich’s wedding anniversary on march 21st duh

tagging: seems like a lot of ppl has been tagged and i don't wanna bother ppl again but i hope u guys like tag games as much as i do? anyway @ms-moonlight-inn?

[girlwhyumad]

Girl, Why U Mad? Take charge of your anger and learn the secrets to live in peace.

Intro to a Girls’ Madness

           

One of the most revealing moments of my life occurred eight years ago during a quick run into the self-checkout line of a packed supermarket. There I stood a mother, wife, and overworked preachers’ kid in the twenty items or less lane with my then nine- and seven-year-old sons. I swiped my Visa debit card to pay for purchases. However, for some strange reason, I could not complete the transaction. I knew there were funds in my bank account since I got a paycheck that very morning. But the only message the register returned was one of these:

 “Ask cashier for assistance.”

I swiped my card repeatedly with no success before I did as the machine instructed, I approached the attendant who stood at the very front of the checkout area and I said,

“Sir, the register is not working.”

The attendant made no eye contact before I could ask I could formerly ask for his assistance, he said,

“I’m not a cashier, follow the instructions.”

Well of course I was a bit puzzled, I considered he was the closest uniformed person, stationed in the check-out area, and of course he was there to help. I stood there for a moment. Then, I walked back to the register and asked God to make it work. Maybe I missed something, because hey - just maybe I missed something. So, I swiped my card again but only this time I paid extra attention to how I inserted the debit card.

I got the very same message,

“Ask cashier for assistance.”

I returned to the attendant,

“The register is telling me to see you for further assistance,” I said.

The attendant responded, “Not my problem.”

I at that point I had had it, so I said, “Well you’re pretty much useless.”

I spent another ten seconds to explain that I could not proceed with the transaction without his help, that did go anywhere because after a few seconds of refusal, he finally admitted what he wanted to say all along,

“I’m not paid to do all that.”

By this point I was mad. Jesus was no longer on my mind nor in my radar. My immediate reaction, ATTACK!

“Dude, you’re an idiot!”

That is the clean version. I conjured up a few impolite two letter words that began with F and ended with the letter U which made matters worse.

                 "What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you?

Is it not this that your passions are at war within you?

                                         James 4:1

You see precious minutes had been wasted. I wanted to make my purchase and I wanted the attendant to do his job, like right at that moment. I rightfully deserved, help. I had already dragged my kids out to the grocery store and spent about an hour to collect just under twenty items. Does he not know kids and a grocery store do not mix? Someone must make the register work. The register must work -at that very moment, just for me…right? I needed relief. I wanted results right now. Let me ignore, I have two small children watching their mother communicate with an absolute stranger during a difficult moment. He and I continued a terrible screaming match that had my youngest son in tears. I used a lot of colorful words to stick a knife through the attendants’ heart. I saw red. A manager eventually came out of his office onto the floor and to make a long story short, the police arrived. The attendant was fired for his bad behavior, but I was not fired for mine.

I left the supermarket with a cart full of free food (as an apology from the store manager, thanks again mister) with anger towards the attendant but even more frustration with myself. How did I allow a person, a stranger I might add, to get me so upset that we screamed back and forth with one another which left my children afraid? The was the ultimate breakthrough. I felt responsible for my children’s fears. I did not protect them. I caused their pain. I vividly remember my eldest son later ask,

“Why U MAD mommy? Why can’t you talk softly?”

Talking about crawling under a rock, I wanted to crawl out of earth. I knew immediately why my son asked that question. My son was not old enough to say “Mom you are too loud, very rude, and mommy you’re angry too” but I knew what my nine-year old meant.

The attendant was obviously wrong to speak to me in the manner that he did since I was a customer. He refused to assist me. I, however, had fault too. My reaction to his bad behavior made me an equal culprit. My hands were not clean.. It was not the first time my son heard me shout when angry. I used expletive language that would embarrass even the most vulgar person. You see my sons’ question forced me to reevaluate me and my crazy. The crazy thing was up until that point I did not know I was mad. I knew I was involved in a lot of drama, but I did not know I was a mad woman. But I was triggered. Yes, I was triggered very easily. But I knew I was the familiar face in all the shouting episodes. Like the time I was screaming obscenities at the slow driver because I was in a rush behind the wheel of my car. How about the cashier at the Wendy’s drive through who failed to greet me as I drove up so I gave her attitude just so she could respond in a negative manner than I could spaz out (go crazy) on her. That is folks, madness. And what about when my husband failed to rub my six-month pregnant fat feet after a long day at work, so I kindly walked into our bedroom where he lay watching TV and threw the 50-inch television off the stand. Side bar- People, I was pregnant, that was hormones, I think. Speaking of pregnancy, I attacked, yes, I physically attacked a woman after she dismissed my request to play age-appropriate music at a teen party. How ridiculous was I? I slashed tires, broke glass, and was downright mean when provoked.

Let me come back to this thought, I attacked a woman at a teen party for inappropriate music.

I physically assaulted relatives while not pregnant and said very unkind words in the name of superiority.

"Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but

The Lord weighs the heart."

                                                              Proverbs 21 vs 2

I was the last word woman.

We all know a last word woman, or you are that person. The last word woman is a woman who must have a final commentary in an argument or any contentious debate- just because she wants to win the argument. The idea is to “finish you off” sentiment. It’s no different from a check mate during a chess game or the winning shot of a final four basketball game.  I had to have the final say, the very last word in every argument. Period. Since I was that last word woman, somehow, I had convinced myself people attacked me for no good reason. I had to respond to any negative feedback even when I was not in the right. I wanted to “stick it” to whoever crossed me. Everyone else was rude and I was the target, poor me. I lost my cool many times but that day for sure was at its’ worst, it was the worst because I caused my children hurt.                               

I could cut a person down with my tongue when there was an ounce of me being triggered. I was unapologetically mean and vulgar when pushed-or brushed. Mad people hurt people. Hurt people hurt people. But the madness I struggled with went beyond normal behavior. There was always a need for revenge. The anger exceeded all level of crazy. I hurt people I loved and usually felt awful about it afterwards. Often, I was very upset and embarrassed with myself, but I would end up blaming others for my actions. Let me be clear, these are not positive things about myself but for sure it was a revelation.

That very day I knew I had work to do. I did not like the person I was. But finding a cure was impossible. How do I fix a thirty-six-year-old wife and mother with a bad attitude? I attended church, prayed, fasted, and did all the meditating in the world but once faced with an uncomfortable situation it would all go out the door. But it did not take long after the supermarket incident for me to develop in my mind tactics to inject less of me and more of connecting something greater than myself. You see, things could not work for me because I did not like the person I was, how I behaved and of course I knew I could not trust myself. I reflected on powerful messages, biblical messages, prayer, and reflect on things that uplift me. No one could have changed the way the attendant responded that day. But I could control the way I did. So, I set myself on a path to understand why I was triggered by my violent responses. I wanted to know why I responded in such an awful way. I love my children. If it took breaking me to help them, I was willing to do it. So, since you elected to read this book, you may have had one too many supermarket moments.  You are a woman, a daughter, maybe a mother, a sister, a friend, single, married, too busy, or maybe not. You may consider yourself successful or maybe not, comfortable or maybe not, overwhelmed, underpaid, overworked, unappreciated, uninspired, and or all in between who struggle with the madness day to day. You want to address it. I am calling you out you mad woman. You deserve a second look because your condition does not work for you or anyone who experience you.  Have you had one too many outbursts?  If I had to guess you are not seeing the “best” you in real form.

Hey, I am not a psychiatrist nor am I a licensed therapist. In fact, this book is my personal journey to taking charge of my anger and finding peace in the very simplest way. My journey completed in seven days but my commitment to this would last much longer. If you are struggling with your mad, or struggling to release frustration, you can achieve the unachievable plague of madness, with simple steps. This book will teach you ways to face your mad, how to respond to hard things and to how experience hard people, it won’t come from you. My hope is to help you to dig deep because God gives us the ability to do it and to do it better than we can imagine.

Here’s what I know about me: I am a loyal, loving, driven and an understanding person. But as loyal as I am I also can become a very mean, cold. All in a milli-second. I realized I needed to change. To do so I had to tune out my own emotions and channel in what the bible said about me. My hope is this book would help to rid you of unnecessary fights and move you upwards because there lies within us greatness. Knowing this, you find self-love, patience and an internal peace that leads to satisfying relationships. You will learn about my journey and techniques I used to find my center. You will read some of my own real-life experiences, real issues, real consequences that taught me how to grow. You will learn about anger and ways it affects your day-to-day life. You see, life experiences teach us. I cancelled my peace to go gun for his. To be crystal clear, we all know there are people that will work your very last nerve for no good reason. There are people placed on earth to find all your wrongs and hate you for your right. We all know at times people can do all the wrong things to give you a good reason to lose your cool. That my friend, will not change. The point of this book is for you to be able to walk upright, chin up, shoulders broad, and your head perked throughout a highly stressful situation. You should be able to walk away from a tense situation knowing respectfully that you could avoid choking another human being who struck accord. You walk away with clean hands, class and dignity. Listen, I get it, folks will test you, they will pull ugly out, and then you end up with the ugly shame cry later. But that incident made me realize that I was doing harm, no good for myself. My level of madness had trickled to my babies. What example was I setting for my kids?

Do you feel guilty about not responding like a “normal” person would? Normal people right – who are they? Everyone has a trigger point, but it is important to know that the bible says in

Proverbs 15 vs 18 “ a hot-tempered person stirs up conflict, but the one who is patient calms a quarrel”.

Triggers are likely to cause more disturbance.

Proverbs 20 vs 3 “It is to one’s honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel”.  

You are no fool. Because you are embarrassed by your response suggests you are ready. Do you struggle for calm words in a debate? Do you debate when there is none? Do you struggle to respond in less aggressive way? Or are you accused often of being aggressive? Do you create friction just for the hell of it? Are you unsure of how to pick yourself back up? Are you ready to break free?

Do you want to stop feeling guilty about the way you behaved? Are you prepared to keep triggers at bay when an idiot does not respond the way they should? Do you get mad when faced with emotionally difficult situations? Or you too can kill someone with your words? So, it sounds like you are ready to end the burning pain in your chest (it is not heartburn either). If you are mad and you don’t know how to turn it off, you can change how you respond by following these steps. Do you want to come out on top? Psst, it will not be easy. In fact, this seven-day challenge will be a lifetime one. Because the next seven days is guaranteed to bring you to tears, fears and your truth. When faced with the hard facts you can make a change. But hey, let’s be honest, you and I both know, being mad blocks, your God given right to live in peace. Peace is necessary for a fulfilling life. Do you want to start living? I challenge you to be honest with yourself and start the greatest aspect of life, living in God’s presence, in His peace. Now push.

[mekatrio]

and part two for episode one

- started applauding when seto finally spoke i love this piece of shit frog LOOK AT HIM. most useless boy in the world i love him. wait no i take it back he's actually using his powers this time around i forgot abt that. he's so awesome

i prefer this scene without seto bc it builds seto's reputation as a character that u dont pay attention to, but honestly its also very funny to have seto in this scene bc then you have kanoseto being two brothers who are doing fuck all. except bullying shintaro. basically the anime version of this

- also i forgot what seto had sounded like man he sounds great. love this voice actor for him

- lord kano is so irritating thank god hes in a timeloop cuz he deserves it

- why is kano the only one laughing at mary tripping. can seto react a bit at least

- the pacing of this scene is godawful lmao why did we waste so much time in shintaro's bedroom..... anyways

- so weird we dont see kanoseto's reaction to shintaro being held up by the throat. like in the manga we see kano's reaction to it which LOL is literally just 😐

also the fact that shintaro just stops mentioning ene like she is just Gone for the length of this scene until she conveniently shows up in the end like ok i guess. the store items dramatically falling with kano's face in the shadows is cool tho i guess. and i like this 2 frame shot of my kids

- jesus A LOT of shit is falling those girls are really putting their work in

- barely obviously that kano removed the restraints for shintaro lol. but oh well

- ohhh ene has been talking to him this whole time. i mean sure i guess.... thats a confusing way to show things. what. dunno why they couldnt hv shown her speaking to him throughout that sequence. oh wait i know why. cuz we spent 2 minutes on a dramatic opening and 6 minutes in shintaro's room and like 3 minutes walking to the mall.... u get the picture

- hai kido my girlie

also first mekatrio of the anime.... lfg!

- the background music is very very fun

- no shotgun sound to indicate shintaro just got shot at? seriously?

- really cool dream sequence. it was a good idea to make it so we cant hear ayano at all hell yes

- AND THATS IT! CUE THE DAZE OP

- am only realizing for the first time shes finally drinking her fated red bean soda

- oh right azami storytime. let me take a look

- oh ayano was the narrator for azami storytime! i didnt remember that. thats so fitting considering that ayano inherits azami's memories in the novels and manga. and maybe the song? whether she does in the anime i dont actually remember, but i do expect her to.

- do not understand why shaft decided to portray azami in a design more akin to her concept art:

left is mca's azami storytime portrayal of her, right is sidu's concept art for her. i wonder if what happened was that sidu gave shaft the designs + concept art of the characters and they mistakenly thought that the concept art was their designs as well. bc thats what happened with young mekatrio, theyre constantly dressed up the same way they were dressed in the concept art. except for seto, whose dressed up the way he was in Imagination Forest. ill add the pics of that when i actually watch that ep

- and this likely isnt intentional but this screen using saeru's colors... hehe

- BOOOOO this bluray rip doesnt include the fanarts that every episode had... smh.... i should look for those somewhere. ok i found it:

overall thoughts: man i wasnt expecting to but towards the ending i started feeling super nostalgic... it feel like its 2014 again and that im so happy and optimistic to see where this anime will go... aw.... the ayano dream sequence was so dramatic and good, and then the daze op, and then azami storytime and the next episode preview... man.... like i was reminded of all the exuberant optimism this fandom had at the start of this anime. man. this episode finishes on such a high note that it almost makes you think the rest of the episode was just as good. well it wasnt!

firstly this is bc of poor planning and bc jin had probably initially expected to be able to fit in mr2's plot into here, but considering we dont get that, the first two minutes of the ep couldve been reworked into hibihiyo's introduction, similarly to how the novels open with a hibihiyo prologue, and the first album features Kagerou Days pretty early. i dont remember how hibiya gets stuck into the Kisaragi Attention ep so that'll be interesting to revisit...

and ofc we spent too long in shintaro's room. unnecessarily long. this ep shouldve either 1.) ended at the introduction of the hostages, or 2.) skimmed the fat and moved it at a pace where the ep ends with momo and friends peering down on shintaro, similarly to the manga:

while still having the hostage situation Actually Make Sense. bc in this anime it made zero sense. while also looking very bad. well... that was episode 1 ig

too sick to draw or do anything else which means its the perfect time to watch mca and be a little autistic nitpicky bitch about it. planning to do a post like this per episode, this one's for episode One. well episode one part one bc nothing in my life is easy and i keep forgetting theres a fucking image limit for posts 🙄

- I HATE THIS FUCKING ANIME ok i needed to get that off my chest...... groaned so loudly at the first four seconds fucking... Church Bells and POLES?!?!? POLES?!?!!! i hate shaft's enviromental choices ok moving on

- how the fuck did i not realize that ayano's VA is rena ryuugu lmfao its all i can hear nowadays

- right theyre on a fucking clock... for some reason.... also honestly i dont like ayano's voice that much. like the voice is fine but i dont think it fits ayano's character

- also this clock sucks i wish it was like more More you know more gears more machinery like ep12 insanity ok wait. are shinaya 3d models here lmfao.. maybe?

- i like this line. saur mysterious

- hahaha.... the Kaien Panzermast

now that i think abt it i have no idea why its called kaien panzermast. like i what its referring to (the song siren thing thats telling kids to go tf home) but what the hell is a Kaien Panzermast?

- this scenery is near meaningless to kagepro literally just a whole bunch of nothing when i say i hate shaft's choices for this anime..... like what is any of this shit. also orange??!? orange of all colors..... god damn man

like yes ok its the evening BUT THIS IS KAGEROU PROJECT. GIVE ME MY RED AND BLUE!

-- this part is cool tho. a bit too heavy handed in the symbolism but i appreciate the gesture

- lol at this:

BECAUSE SHE DIDNT! not until 2017 lmfao. this makes me suspect that the revelations from mr2 were initially supposed to be in the anime. but in the end for whatever reason it couldnt fit itself there, so the only revelation we got was The First Tragedy Exists. and no elaboration.... now that i think of it, iirc me and many fans were pretty thrown off from this opening back when it first aired cuz this was like, the first time we've seen ayano act like this. wait. let me check my timeline

ok nvm lol. second time. first time shes ever like this is in the manga:

but anyways back in 2013/2014 before the LTM episode, there was like no context whatsoever for Why Is Ayano Like That. so that was a doozy

- damn can u imagine working on some songs writing a novel and getting these amazing voice actors to voice ur characters... ohhh i wouldnt know how to act

-HJEKHJSKDFHASJKDFH THIS LOOKS CHEAP AS HELL HELP ME

i mean thats um. one way to show a timeline getting thrown away... I Guess. ignoring the fact that Mary Has Long Hair (which she shouldnt), its a cool visual idea but the execution is um... hfjkssjk

- hehe

headphone actor mv on the left and mca countdown thingy on the right. holy shit they are near identical damn, i just thought they were similar but no, its practically identical. thats so cool T_T if only the rest of this anime was this cool.... whatever onwards i go

- shintaro's stupid futuristic high-rise apartment... i loathe thee

- the fuck is this

- first instance of shaft's trademark of putting random shit on the screen and im already annoyed its gonna be bad for me for the rest of this rewatch if i can even last that long. i know i will at least til ep 10 (11???) cuz i need to see baby mekatrio

- no aku benci lmfao shaft hates to animate so much they threw this story into the future so they could just conveniently project things onto shintaro's cyberwall hahaha..... i fucking hate this anime

- looks like shintaro was drawn by 4 different artists in these various shots that only span like 5 seconds

- damn in the anime its not even ene's fault that shintaro spilled the soda lmfao. thats all on him this time

- also shinene's voices are srsly perfect

- XX you say...... 🤨

- storyboarding sucks shit they went from flashback to not a flashback to flashback again my fucking god dude. the only reason i can make sense of any of it is cuz im rewinding every little thing

- literally no reason to add 'roomie' to this translation but it made me laugh so I GUESS

maybe i should hunt for the official crunchyroll subs. but im too lazy

- lmfao

text from Mekakucity Talkers 24, translated by x0401x. only difference from tht and the screenshot is that shintaro still has hair lol

- hm. i wish it made a bigger deal of shintaro leaving the house. yeah he threw a fit but i wish the actual stepping outside aspect was more dramatic yknow. like how Children Record emphasized it

- WHY IS THIS CITY SO EMPTY

- also curiously this episode is missing this sentence from shintaro abt someone rebuilding the city bit by bit which is in the novels and the manga, which is meant to foreshadow saeru's influence. but then again the first 17 manga chapters are taken nearly word-by-word from the novels so maybe thats all it is 🤷

- also it took like 6 minutes for shintaro to leave the house... theres other things being done ofc, establishing shinene's dynamics, quick exposition of how ene ended up with shintaro to begin with, and spilling soda onto the computer and leaving the house. but i feel like it wouldve been better if the anime stuck to what the novels + mr1 does, where ene blares a loud fucking alarm. that quickly establishes shinene's dynamic and easily leads to a So You Must Be Wondering How I Got Here type of thing, and then knock over the soda leave the house bam easy. instead the anime really took its time with like..... idk making shinaro look ikemen. yeahhh not the best choice, especially considered how rushed the last few episodes are gonna be. ok back to watching the anime

- also aku benci x2 like its only futuristic when its convenient which is soo fucking Lazy. theres literally no reason for this story to be set in the future. like all this city scenery is based off actual modern day Kashiwa its just... ugh. barely any care put into this anime at all

- this anime is cool sometimes

- reused this pencil texture from the start of the episode... wonder how many times ill be seeing that

- the fucking comedic timing of these terrorists lmfao. and right theyre clowns... for some reason....

- also dude ill still never understand why only their thumbs are the only parts ziplocked like what. also isnt that harder to animate... THIS STUPID ANIME

- this is a completely fair reaction to having kano shuuya speak to you for the first time

- no the fuck he isnt he hasnt thought of shit my god.

that comic person on here was not lying shaft really fucked up the order of events here bigtime. kano only speaks to shintaro after shintaro's done brooding.... also seto doing fuckall lol. ik he'll say smth in like 2 seconds but i do find it funny that we've seen him for like the past minute and he hasnt said shit

- ok but its cool that kano's hand just doesnt obey the ziplock.... very clever of the artists to just make him put his hands behind his head and other gestures to indicate that theres something up with him

- why are his eyes red.

[topfied]

「 run, BIGBANG scout! 」 ↳ EP3: Mommy, give me food!

[babybluebex]

Hey I love ur writing 😭💕 I was wondering could u write a fic for Joby Taylor where he sees you at a bar with ur friends and wants to take u home (which u do bc duh it’s fuckin joby) :P I feel like joby would be so good in bed.

i finally wrote this lol it's a bit of a fade to black situation bc i can't be assed to write a full smut scene rn

You typically didn’t go for guys like him. You yourself were pretty clean-cut and you usually went for guys that were the same way, but your friend’s elbowing and nudging and whispers of “The singer’s so hot” couldn’t be ignored. She was right after all; the singer was hot. He was the kind of hot that made your stomach turn and your legs tingle, especially when his dark hair fell into his eyes as he sang. You didn’t want to admit how hot he was, though, and you clapped as the band finished their song. 

“Thanks for coming out,” the singer said into the microphone. The venue wasn’t huge, just an average-sized bar, and you hadn’t even intended to see the band perform. You and your friend Chelsea had only meant to meet for drinks after work, and the band got onstage as you finished your second glass of wine. The crowd that did seem to come for the band had dwindled since the start, people much more alternative than you’d ever think to be, and you watched the singer turn and say something to the guitar player. The guitar player nodded, and the singer returned to the microphone. “We’ve got one more song tonight, this one’s… It’s called For Ellen.” 

It was a slower song, still as rock as the other ones, and you watched him as he grabbed the microphone and wet his lips. He looked out at the crowd as the guitar intro played, and you fell breathless when his eyes seemed to lock on you. There was no way he saw you, though; you were in the very back of the venue, sitting at the bar with Chelsea. You had almost successfully convinced yourself that he was just looking in your direction, and then he winked one of those dark eyes at you. 

“Jesus Christ,” Chelsea said. “Did he just wink at you?” 

“Apparently,” you mumbled. “I don’t think it was at me, I think it was… I don’t know.”

“I think he did,” Chelsea said as he began to sing. “Are you gonna try to talk to him after the show?”

“Fuck that,” you laughed. “If he comes and talks to me, sure, but I’m not fuckin’ going to him.”

“Think you’ll fuck him?” Chelsea asked, and you laughed again, this time at her audacity. 

“I don’t plan on it,” you said. “But, like I said, if he comes up and talks to me, y’know. Whatever. We’ll see what happens.” 

The conversation ended there, and you finished your drink as you watched the band perform. Everyone was stellar at their roles, the guitarist and drummer and bassist all talented, but the singer drew your eye more than anything. He wore black jeans that didn’t quite fit his slender frame, with a white belt that did little to actually do its job, along with a white tank top and a black hoodie. The stage lights glinted off of the necklaces earrings he wore, and he continually pushed the same strand of blackish-brown hair behind his ear. You couldn’t see him well enough to discern an eye color or much of anything else about him physically, but Chelsea was right: he was hot. He was a good singer too, singing about someone that he loved and lost, likely the Ellen that the song was named after, and you made a note to compliment his voice, if he did in fact come up to you after the show. 

The song ended and he finished his singing, and the bar clapped as he did a little half-bow. “We’ve been Snake Trouble,” he said. “Thanks for coming out tonight, we appreciate it.” 

“Snake Trouble,” you echoed as the singer hopped offstage. “That’s a shitty band name.” 

Chelsea shrugged. “You should tell him that,” she said. “He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, turning back to the bar. “Here we go.” 

You felt his presence next to you, and he quickly called out to the bartender: “Can I get another PBR?” Then, you finally turned and looked at him. He was much taller than you anticipated, and you smiled when you found him already looking at you. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said. “You like the show?” 

“It was good,” you nodded, sipping at your wine. “Not what I usually listen to, but it was good.” 

“That’s cool,” he said, and he exchanged money for the brown beer bottle that landed in his hand. “There’s something about live music, y’know? Makes you rethink what you like and know.”

“For sure,” you said. “I really liked that last song, For Ellen.”

The singer nodded and took a drink, and he said, “Yeah, it’s… It’s one of the more personal songs on our record. S’bout my daughter.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s sweet. How old is she?” 

He watched you for a moment, just long enough for you to gauge the green-brown hues of his eyes, and he shook his head as he laughed humorlessly. “I’m not drunk enough for that yet,” he said. “What’s your name, babygirl?” 

Usually, you would have protested to the nickname, but the way his voice dripped like sweet honey, his mouth situated in a half-smile, made you swallow down your protest. Damn Chelsea, she had you clocked from the start. If he wanted to fuck, you’d agree. You told him your name and, when he repeated it, testing it out, you swear that you had never heard your name said so beautifully. “I’m Joby,” he told you. 

“Joby,” you echoed, pulling the same stunt that he had with you, and you watched his back straighten as your lips wrapped around his name. Joby. It was a good name. “Nice to meet you, Joby.” 

“Nice to meet you too, babygirl,” Joby said. He took another sip of his beer, and he grunted gently before he swallowed, wanting to keep your attention during the silence. “I’ve never seen you around here before.” 

“I typically don’t go to rock shows,” you told him. “Or bars. But, y’know, a hard day at work, we need a drink.” You looked over at Chelsea, only to find her out of her seat, leaving it empty. “Jesus, where’d she go?”

“Oh, your friend,” Joby said. “Yeah, she’s over at the stage, talking to James.” You turned again and found your friend exactly where Joby said, sitting on the edge of the stage and flirting with the guitar player. You silently cursed at her for leaving you alone, but you turned back to Joby quickly. 

“Guess that gives us some alone time, huh?” you said, and laughed when Joby nodded enthusiastically. “Anyway, how do you know that I don’t come here often? Do you keep a tally of all the chicks that come in?”

“Only the ones worth keeping track of,” Joby said with that same half-smile as before. “And you fit the bill.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Well, I hate to tell you, but I’m not really worth keeping an eye on, especially your eye.”

“Why not?” Joby asked, his eyes narrowing playfully. 

You hummed for a second, thinking, and you said, “Because I think your band name sucks,” you replied. “Because I’m not really your type and you’re not really my type either.”

“My band name sucks?” Joby repeated, and you smiled as you nodded. 

“Snake Trouble? I mean, come on,” you sighed. “It sounds like you found a band name generator online and went with the first name it gave you.” 

“Alright, alright,” Joby said. “So, you hate my band. No trouble, baby. You did say you liked the last song, though.”

“It was the only one I liked,” you shrugged, and Joby feigned offense, his mouth opening and eyebrows furrowing. You laughed at him, and he dramatically put down his beer bottle. 

“I can’t believe this!” Joby gasped. “The hottest girl here hates my music! This is— What a tragedy! I can’t believe it!” 

“Whatever, calm down,” you smiled and took a sip of your drink. “I thought you looked hot, so that’s what matters.” 

“But you just said I’m not your type,” Joby argued, and you sighed.

“Being hot and being my type aren’t mutually exclusive,” you said. “I can appreciate that you’re an attractive guy and still not want to fuck you. That’s the only reason you came over to me anyway, right? To try to get in my pants?” 

“Fuck, you’re good,” Joby mumbled, rubbing his jaw in faux-defeat. “Yes, okay. Maybe that was the only reason I came over here, but, now that I’m here, I just like talking to you.” 

“Bullshit,” you replied, and Joby laughed. “Alright, let’s pretend I was into you. What would you do next?” 

“Okay,” Joby said, taking a drink of his beer and setting the bottle back on the wood top bar. “So, if you were into me, next, I’d ask you if you knew how to play pool, and you’d say you didn’t, and I’d insist on teaching you.” 

“So, do it,” you said. “Teach me.” 

“It’s less teaching and more just shoving my dick into your hip,” Joby admitted, those green eyes flashing with mischief, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’d kiss you at some point, and by that time, you’ve been in my arms and felt my dick, and you’d beg me to take you home.” 

“Joby,” you said. “Teach me. It’ll lower your ego to strike out, you could do with a smaller ego.” 

“I don’t strike out,” Joby told you as he helped you down from the bar stool, his hand pressed flat against your back. “I’ve had more wins than losses.”

“Whatever,” you said, and you let Joby lead you to the pool table. Truthfully, you had no idea how to play pool, and, while you didn’t exactly intend for Joby to actually teach you, you would go by your own philosophy that it would be good for him to be brought down a few pegs. The table was unoccupied, the small crowd in the bar focused on other things, and Joby retrieved a pool cue from the wall.

“You ready?” he asked, holding out the cue to you, and you sighed. 

“Alright, I’ll be honest,” you said. “I actually don’t know how to play pool. You legitimately need to teach me.” 

Joby did that half-smile of his and rolled his eyes, and he said, “Alright. Just so you know, that’ll make it harder for you to say no to me.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” you told him. “C’mon, do your little shtick, let’s see it.” 

“At least pretend like you want it,” Joby said under his breath, and he was quick to press himself against your back, his hands gliding along your arms until he had you fully enveloped in his arms. “You hold the cue like this, okay? And…” He took a step forward, pressing himself fully against your back, and your breath hitched when you felt him against your ass, already deliciously hard. “Lean forward a little, so you can actually shoot, y’know.” 

“Jesus,” you giggled, and you instantly hated yourself for it. It was such a cliche thing to do, especially when you were supposed to be resisting his charms. You weren’t actually impressed by the feel of his hard dick pressing against you, were you? “It doesn’t take a lot to get you started, does it?” you added, hoping to play off your involuntary reaction as part of the ribbing. 

“Well, not when I’ve got such a pretty girl in my arms,” Joby chuckled, and you flushed at his words. “Oh, you like that? When I call you pretty?”

“At least we know you have good taste in women,” you said. Even though you were trying your hardest to laugh him off, he had you cornered. You really didn’t like him, did you? Was it just because he was hot? That had to be it. 

“Good taste, huh?” Joby said, and he smiled. “I bet you taste good.”

“Oh, creative word play,” you scoffed, but his arms held onto you in a way that made you feel weak in the knees. It was getting harder and harder to resist him, but you had to keep your wall up, at least for just a few more minutes.

“Would you let me?” Joby asked, those big green eyes widening as he titled his head curiously. 

“Let you do what?” you asked coyly, and Joby sighed. 

“You’re making me work for this, aren’t you?” he laughed in amusement. 

“The fun’s in the chase, right?” you offered, and you finally broke free of his grasp, pushing the pool cue fully into his hands. You started to move back to the bar, to your drink and seat, and you cast him a look over your shoulder as you settled back on your stool. 

“I thought you said that you didn’t want to fuck me,” Joby said as he siddled up next to you, grabbing his own beer back. 

You shrugged. “Maybe the tide turned,” you said. “Try me.”

Joby licked his lips and bit his bottom lip for just a moment, examining you, looking you up and down. If it was ten minutes ago, you would have hated how obviously he was checking you out, but it was just part of his charm now. The hot, greasy singer from the band was totally into you, and you just might be into him too, as long as he didn’t fumble his offer. Finally, he released his lip and moved closer, pressing himself right up against you, and he brought his mouth just inches away from your ear. “I wanna take you home,” he whispered, and you shivered as his hand snaked up and down your thigh, his finger lingering deliciously. “I’ll eat your pussy, see if you taste as good as you look.”

“And you’d fuck me?” you asked, and Joby nodded. 

“Oh, babygirl, I’ll fuck you,” Joby whispered. “I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even remember my name. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, you’ll just be all weak and pathetic and begging for more. So… How about it, sugar?” 

“Damn!” you exclaimed. “I wanted so bad not to want you, but… You drive a hard bargain, baby.” 

[thisaccisdead]

montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly… fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

[passivenovember]

Boys on the Radio.

Harringrove April, Day Seven : Daisy Chain.

--

Steve has very high standards when it comes to men. Unbelievably rigid, according to Nancy; hilariously unattainable, according to Robin, and understandable, according to the one man that actually matters. 

Billy tells him that the privilege of not simply “taking what you can get,” comes from equal opportunity. 

The fact that Steve can sign up for Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, and HER without having to set his dating pool to only men, only brown eyes, 5′11″ or taller, himbo, must like dogs, must want nachos when drunk--means he shouldn’t have such a hard time finding someone to get coffee with, and yet.

Steve finds himself on the couch with Robin on Wednesday night, anyway. Swiping through a caste of 25+ gym rats and an inbox full of u spit or swalll-o, baby girl. 

Wishing and praying for a sign, like. Something to prove he’s not deflective. 

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Swipes left on four guys with fifteen pack abs, Jesus Christ, searching for someone he knows will never materialize. 

Steve hates his life. 

He throws his phone down on the couch before picking it back up again, and. Opening Tinder once more.

“Billy gets so much dick on these stupid apps, it’s not even real.” Steve complains, after swiping through, like. Ten guys within walking distance alone. “How does he do that?”

“Easy. Billy knows his type.”

Steve considers Marcus. His chorded arms and tattooed thighs. His Incan Temple chest piece, before. 

Swiping left. 

“How the hell does he actually get what he’s looking for? I see these guys and, like. They seem perfect. Funny, smart, successful. Completely my type on paper, and then--”

“Just say you’re holding out for Billy and move on, Stever.” Robin’s phone dings. She dives for it, grinning and typing out a response, and like.

Steve hates her.

He scowls. “I’m not holding out for Billy.” 

It doesn’t sound right, even to his own ears. Robin peeks at him over the top of her messaging app, smile going lopsided in the middle. “’S fine. He’s holding out for you, anyway.”

Steve really, really hates her.

He opens Facebook and scrolls through his feed, stopping to comment a series of heart emojis on a picture of Billy and Max hiking somewhere in White Water State Park. 

Billy looks. 

Like Billy. 

Golden curls cropped close to his head, eyes squinting as the photographer catches him mid laugh, nose bunching up so. 

Adorably.

That Steve’s heart skips a beat. That the heavens fuckin’, like. Open, and shit, to shine on a delicate daisy chain around his forehead. 

Steve can’t believe he almost missed it. He spends five minutes picking the right color of heart emoji. Yellow and orange, with a sprinkle of stardust, and then. Another three deciding how many to include before closing out of Facebook entirely. 

Reluctant to prove Robin right.

Steve opens Tinder and promises that when the next face pops up on his screen, he’ll lower his standards. Be more chill about the whole thing. 

Actually read the bio twice and message back before deciding that no one could ever compare to--

Steve swipes left on Tyler.

Almost immediately, because. Look.

This guy is cute. Curly blonde hair and green eyes, but. Unfortunately for dude, his name is Tyler, for fucks sake. 

And unfortunately for Steve he looks too much like. 

Yeah. 

Robin makes a noise, all, “What’s wrong with that one?” Her eyes sparkle mischievously and Steve wishes she were off getting laid or something. “Besides the fact that he’s not Billy.” 

“His name’s Tyler,” Steve says. Like it should be obvious. He scrambles for something else, something tangible, before landing on; “And his teeth are too square.”

Robin stares at him. Sets her phone aside before pinching the bridge of her nose, like, “His teeth are too square.”

“Yep.”

“You’re impossible.”

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Running into the same problem again. 

Too pretty guys with too straight teeth and too many abs, just. 

Terrible. 

“Maybe I should lower my standards.” Steve says, after another you got real pretty DSLs bby, from some fuckface claiming that Sundays are for Jesus and tan lines.

Men are hopeless.

Men are terrible, Steve wishes Billy was here and not on vacation.

“Maybe.” Robin smiles down at her phone, again, cheeks going bright pink when Barb says something so fucking witty, Steve, I’m in love. 

Steve frowns. “You can talk about her, dude.”

“Talk about who?” Robin sits on her hands. Swallows a smile. “Barb and I only just met. I’ve been stuck with you for years.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Robins phone dings again. She ignores it. “I don’t think your standards are the problem.”

“If you fucking--”

“Just admit that it’s only been ten years and you’re finally spreading your legs for the guy who includes a description of you in his dating profile.”

He really wishes she were out getting laid.

“Allegedly,” Steve says. Because; “I’ve never actually seen any of his dating profiles.”

Robin opens the message from Barb, grinning to herself, or. To the gods of chaos she seems to be in council with fucking always. “That’s because if you ran across one you’d swipe right.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.” Robin counters, not even bothering to look up from her phone. “Billy is exactly your type. Funny, smart, adventurous. Daddy issues. Has a thing for leather.”

“Dude--”

“Wearing leather, putting his partners in leather. Kinky but knows how to cook and clean, and how to take care of a bratty sub.” Robin puts her phone away, shrugging when Steve tosses a pillow at her. “Face it, man, he’s exactly your type. On and off paper.”

Steve wants to crawl under the couch and bury himself under the floor boards.

“I thought the whole point of online dating was to get out of your head about types and shit.”

Robin snorts, like, “No one actually believes that. We’re all just dating the same person over and over again. Making the same mistakes so we have something to complain about when our friends invite us over for wine.”

And. 

She’s not wrong. She’s never wrong. Steve, just. Knows what he wants. Who he wants. Steve aches and pines and yearns for Billy Hargrove. To cuddle up next to the fifteen-pack of abs he’s been obsessing over for years, and. 

Swear of this God awful dating sites for good. 

But. “Barbara isn’t your type.” Steve says, like. AHA! Pointing an accusatory finger that Robin nods away. 

“She’s exactly the type of girl I should be with, and exactly what I’ve wanted all along.” Robin says politely, but her eyes say fuck you I’m right. 

Just like now. Like always. 

Steve takes a deep, steadying breath. “Okay.”

Robin blinks at him. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Steve mutters, because he’s a team player. He can admit defeat, especially for a battle that was lost to blue eyes long, long ago. 

But. He opens Bumble, shrugging sheepishly. 

“One more swipe for old times sake?”

“Steve--”

“One more swipe to prove that I should be focusing my dick elsewhere.” Steve says. He feels tears burning, sharp and mean, behind the lining of his throat. “I just need a sign, like. Something to give me the courage.”

Robin watches him for a minute, and.

Must see the way he’s barely holding it together, finger tapping incessantly at the loading screen. Her phone goes off once again, breaking the tension. 

Steve takes that as a yes. 

He closes the app and opens it again. Bumble plays through an ad for Candy Crush and Steve finds it hilarious that happy endings come with a price tag. A thirty second video telling him what he needs, and then. 

The guy on screen is perfect. 

Golden skin, bright blue eyes. His bio describes a perfect boy, a perfect date, profile stocked full of personality. 

Skateboarding and surfing on the coast. Tattoos and leather jackets. Metallica concerts and. 

A boy in a flower crown. 

Billy describes his perfect boy as brown eyed beauty, 5′11″ or taller, preschool teacher. Must like dogs. Must want nachos when drunk--

And when Steve finally, finally swipes right: It’s a match.

[noyasboxdye]

Character: Kenma K. Header creds: @leekn6w​ Song: I’m loving your vibe by Xavier Goodman !!WARNINGS!!: College/University AU, Smoking/Drug Usage, Male! Reader Title: Cute Party boy

You had been sitting in the corner of someone's house deciding to finally give up on finding your friends knowing that they had probably already found some random guy to hook up with. Looking around and watching the drunk young adults grind, sing, dance, scream and drink the night away you finally had enough of sitting there, you stood up from your seat walking into the kitchen and looking at the several different arrangements of drinks noticing they had fireball, whiskey, tequila, gin, brandy, and several other things in one section then having the beer in another.

Not wanting anything to hard and hating beer you went for the fruit punch pouring your cup 3/4 of the way and walking up the stairs making the decision not to open any closed doors knowing that one or several of your friends could be in that room doing things you didn't want to vision your friends doing right now. Noticing a slightly open door, seeing smoke continuously flowing out of the room as people go in and out some alone some with friends or partners.

Finally concluding that you didn't have anything to do and you were tired of being so sober you walked into the room the aroma of weed and what you think is vanilla and strawberry flavored juul pods. Sitting down on the couch near a window, trying to stay your farthest from the two men you were on the couch next to.

Pulling out your pod and taking a longer hit then you would usually and exhaling taking note to the pudding head and black haired male next to him who had been taking glances and staring on and off for about 20 minutes now. Taking your phone out trying to figure out why your phone had been vibrating in your back pocket continuously for a few minutes now. Rolling your eye seeing that your mother had been calling you and texting you nonstop making sure you were studying for your tests that weren't happening till like 3 months.

Texting your mother and telling her that you've been studying all week and its 10pm on a Saturday and you had been cramming for the past week and a half with barely any breaks. Turning your phone off whilst rolling your eyes. Noticing that the two boys across from you were still continuing to stare at you, you stared back at the two hoping that it would make them stop.

Them finally stopping you go on your phone texting your friends once more as an attempt to check on them even though you knew that at least two of them were together. "Hey..." the bed head said. "Uhm- hi." you said not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now. "I know we've been staring at you for a while now and sorry for that, but my friend said your beautiful/handsome and he would love it if you gave him his number." he said with a slight smirk on his face. "Well I mean sure but only if he comes over and asks himself." you say looking at the bi haired colored boy.

"Okay- wait sorry hold on." hurriedly getting up from the old beaten up couch with a smile on his face walking back over the his friend and whispering in his ear while pointing at you, the shorter boy blushes with a smile on his face getting up from his chair and awkwardly shuffling over to you. Sitting next to you and smiling the blush on his cheeks becoming more prominent.

"Hey... sorry about my friend. I told him to leave you alone, but he didn't listen." he said rubbing the back of his neck. "It's fine... so what's your name." you said as you took a hit from your juul "My names Kenma. What's yours?" he said finally starting to seem a little bit comfortable with you. "(M/N)" you said holding your hand out to shake his hand a warm smile coming across your face as you feel his skin contact yours.

"Your pretty to by the way." you say moving your phone out of your back pocket not liking the feeling of your mother blowing up your phone against your butt cheek. "What-?" Kenma said look up at you with wide eyes. "Your friend told me you thought I was pretty/handsome, so I said your pretty." You said smiling. "Oh ah- thanks." he said with a slight chuckle tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear frowning slightly.

"You going to ask for my number or do I have to." you said smirking slightly in a more teasing/sensual tone, the smirk becoming wider and more prominent when that heavy blush that dusted his cheeks earlier dusted them once again. "You look like a strawberry again Kenma." you state teasing him once again and making his blush deeper. "So- uhm can I have your number... then." he says pointing at the phone on your thigh.

"Yeah sure give me your phone right quick" he says giggling a bit at how shy he was. "Yeah sure- here..." he says practically glowing and shaking a little from excitement. "Uh I called my number so your number should be in my phone now, and my contact name is my name. I didn't know what you wanted it as, so I put it as that." you said handing him his phone back and half way making sure he noticed. "Okay thanks I'll call you tonight to make sure you get home- if that's okay with you."

"Yeah it's fine with me. And I'll do the same if I leave before you." you said your voice lowering slightly as you start to become calmer and more comfortable around him. "Okay cool. You want a drink-" he says not knowing what to do now his mind creating an awkward atmosphere that wasn't even there. "Yeah sure. They didn't have anything good though which is why I got juice before." you said warning him that nothing good would be in the downstairs kitchen.

"Yeah I got mostly juice too. My friend wanted me to get a little tipsy so he wasn't drunk alone." he said you both walking down stairs as Kenma texts Kuroo letting him know where he was going so he would leave without him, it happened once and he'll never allow it to happen ever again. "Kool-Aid or Hawaiian punch?" you said as you chose something from the fridge. "Kool-Aid... duh." Kenma said laughing a bit.

"Which flavor?" you say. "Purple and red." answered checking his phone. "You like purple! I love purple too everyone I meet hates purple." you say a childlike grin on your face. (Yes, ur getting excited over Kool-Aid. The purple flavor deserves more hype!!) "Kenma!" the boy from earlier said hurriedly walking over to you both. "Yes kuroo." he said drinking out of his cup, you laughing a bit noticing he drinks like a 1st grader after they just got done playing outside.

"It's almost 3 we got to go. You have class at like 8 and my class is an hour before yours so let's go." Kuroo said ready to drag him away. "Well I have to go I have a pretty early class tomorrow, but I'll be sure to call you." he said making sure he had everything he originally came with in his pockets. "Yeah sure bye Kenma and..." pausing waiting for Kuroo to tell you his name again. "Oh! Kuroo my names Kuroo."

"And Kuroo. We'll talk later 'mkay?" you said smiling at Kuroo then going to look back at Kenma. "Yeah sure I'll probably text you first by the way." he said him and Kuroo grabbing each other's hands and saying bye. Checking the time, the realization finally settling in that your friends were still missing, and it was almost 3 in the morning.

'Jesus fucking christ where the hell are these fuckers' you think to yourself storming back up the steps your patients being thin to none. 'On my mommy if these hoes fucking somebody I'm leaving' putting your ear up to at least 4 different doors before you finally found them, seeing one friend passed out in the bathroom and the others scattered around the room.

"My god what did you guys get yourselves into" you said finally feeling the exhaustion that you were suppressing throughout the past two weeks. "Ty's sick and vomiting it's guts out in the bathroom, Isaiah's knocked he's been like that for about an hour now, and Alex was crying but ink's now under the desk over there... and I didn't drink a lot so I'm fine." your friend said you trying to find Alex.

"Ok well its... 5 minutes away from being 4 am.", "Okay..."

**Timeskip**

After taking everyone home and making sure they got in bed safely you and your friend Malik both shared an uber back to both of your houses. Finally reaching the comfort of your room you go to your connected bathroom and start getting ready for the night. Taking a shower, doing your skin care, getting a snack while putting on your show starting to finally calm down.

Finally finishing your food getting up to brush your teeth and going back to your room pressing play to your show again. Turing on your night light and finally laying down. Jumping slightly when you hear you phone go off completely forgetting about it. Turning over to your nightstand to get your phone. Confused when an unknown number shows up on your phone.

In your messages

Unknown: Hey this (M/N) right?

You: Who's this .-.

Unknown: It's Kenma we met at the party... remember?

You: Oh yeah, it's (M/N)

You: Hey Kenma

Cute party boy: Hey (M/N)

Cute party boy: hru?

You: I'm doing good hbu?

Cute party boy: I'm doing good :)

Cute party boy: srry for texting u so late btw I just wanted to do it now, so I didn't forget lol.

You: No worries you're fine :)

Cute party boy: Alr good.

Cute party boy: did you make it home ok or are you still at the party?

You: no I ended up finding my friends after you left so I'm home now.

You: hbu?

Cute party boy: yeah I made it home fine lol

Cute party boy: Did you want to hang out again?

You: yh sure when

Cute party boy: are you busy on Sundays?

You: no Sundays are usually free for me

Cute party boy: you wanna hang out tomorrow

You: yh tht works lol

Cute party boy: mk well i gtg im tired so goodnight :D

You: yh same goodnight sweet dreams and sleep well

Cute party boy: you too sweet dreams and sleep well

After saying your goodbyes to Kenma you put your phone back on the dresser watching a few episodes of your show, finally slipping off into peaceful sleep.

[chincilla-on-the-moon]

“I like you too idiot.”- Connor Murphy X Reader

Request: can u do a connor x reader where reader is being pretty annoyed with Jared on the first day (like when he calls him a school shooter) and he steps in and defends her leading timo a nice friendship and a love confession from Connor at the end? I’m sending love, and if u can’t it is really ok, everyone’s mental health is important, pls don’t feel overwhelmed 💕✨🦋- Anon 

Word Count: 2,542

Warnings: A couple swears and Jared Klienman being a dick. (also Connor is probs written ooc but whatever)

Authors note: Hi everyone! First of all I just want to say thank you to everyone who requested something! I am trying to work on them but I recently fell into a really bad place mentally but I’m working on making it better. I hope to have the other requests out soon but please be patient with me. Also anon I used they/them pronouns for the reader as those are my pronouns and I want to make sure everyone can I enjoy my writing regardless of gender so I hope that okay.  As always thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day/night! :) <3 (Also any feedback is very appreciated. )

First day of senior year. To say you weren’t excited would be the understatement of the century. Sure you were excited to finally get out of your hometown but you had to get through the school year first and if the previous years were any indication of how this year was going to go, well lets just say it's going to be a long year. 

You pulled into the student parking lot in your shitty car and saw there were a couple extra minutes before you actually had to be in the building, With that in mind you decided to just put your head down  on the steering wheel for a few minutes to prepare yourself for the day ahead. 

That peace was short lived though because not even  30 seconds later did a dark truck pulled up next to you. Before the car could even come to a stop Zoe Murphy flew out of the passenger seat. She flipped off the driver, who you presumed was her brother Connor, and slammed the door before storming off into the school. “Jesus” you mutter  to yourself. Then another door slammed and Connor Murphy appeared in front of the truck, talking and gesturing wildly to himself. You could only make out bits and pieces of what the boy was saying before he went into the school like his sister. You heard him say something about his mom and his bitch sister and not even wanting to be there. Well at least you weren't alone in the feeling. Following the Murphy siblings you begrudgingly went into the building. The friendly secretary greated you and handed you your schedule which had your locker number on it. After searching for a few minutes you found it and just as you were starting to put things in your locker  you heard his voice, Jared Klienman. He was talking to Evan Hansen and you prayed to whatever higher being that could hear you that he would leave you alone. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t L/N.” You could practically hear the shit-eating grin he had on his stupid face. You were about to turn around and tell him to go away but before you could someone comes between the two of you blocking Jared from your view. 

“Fuck off Klienman” says the last person you expected, Connor Murphy. 

“Woah calm down Murphy, I’m just trying to have a conversation with Y/N here” Jared says starting to back up and putting his arms up as a way of showing his surrender.

“Well they obviously don’t want to talk to you. Now get out of here before I punch that stupid smirk off your dumb face,” Connor says squaring off his shoulders in an attempt to look even more intimidating than usual. It worked quite well because Jared was practically running off but not before making a dig at Connor.

“Yeah whatever you fucking freak.”

You saw Connor’s shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists. You didn’t know what to do but figured it would be best to leave the boy alone, so you just fidgeted with your hands. He took a deep breath then turned to face you. 

“Uhm thanks for that. You really didn’t have to,” you say avoiding eye contact with him, which was quite easy considering how tall he was compared to you. 

“No problem, I know how much of a dick Klienman can be.” 

“Yeah he’s the worst,” you say scoffing lightly. Then the bell signaling you were supposed to be in homeroom rang.“See you around Connor. Thanks again,” you say before turning to shut your locker and rush to class. 

“Yeah see you around,” Connor says to no one because you were already down the hall.

The rest of the day wasn’t much better, nothing happened in particular but it just still wasn’t the best. After what felt like an eternity it was finally the last bell of the day, creative writing. You weren’t particularly interested in writing but you had a bell to fill so you figured why not. When you walked in you did a scan of the room and saw Connor, he had an empty seat next to him at the back of the room so you decided to sit it in. “Hey,” you say, startling the boy who was previously staring into space. 

“Oh hey.”

“Thanks again for this morning, I really appreciate it dude,” you say making eye contact with Connor so he would know you actually meant what you were saying.

“Oh yeah, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he says, giving you a small smile. You smiled back just as your teacher walked in which caused the conversation to end. 

“Good afternoon class! I hope all of your days have been tolerable,” says your teacher Mr. Davidson. He was a younger man in his early 30’s which meant everyone liked him including you.  “Instead of doing an ice breaker where you all lie about how interesting your summers were I want you to get to actually get to know someone in this class a little better,” he says from behind his podium at the front of the class. You were starting to panic a little, who were you going to partner up with? None of your kind of friends were in this class!  Then Connor cleared his throat grabbing your attention.

“Hey Y/N, wanna be partners?” The nervous energy was practically radiating off the boy. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sure Connor.” The two of you then got up and turned your desks to face each other like the other pairs were doing. “So Murphy what’s your deepest darkest secret?” you say, smirking.

“Woah L/N, not even going to ask me my favorite color or anything?” he says chuckling.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you say playfully rolling your eyes. “What’s your favorite color Connor?” 

“Dark green. What about you L/N? What's your favorite color?”

“Y/F/C,” you say. “It’s been my favorite since I was younger,” you say shrugging.

“I respect that. It’s a good color.” 

“Yeah whatever, now can I hear your deepest secret?”, you say almost like a child.

“Wow you’re still on this?”, he says with amusement evident in his tone. 

“Yeah I am!” you say in a mock seriousness. “Mr. Davidson says we are supposed to actually get to know each other and that’s what I’m trying to do Murphy!” 

“You’re absolutely right Y/N,” he says suddenly very serious.

“Okay fine I’ll tell you but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. 

“Not a soul,” you say staring at him intently and sitting at the edge of your seat. 

“Well, here goes nothing.” He made eye contact and it felt as if he was staring into your soul. “I’m pregnant.”

You maintained eye contact until you actually processed what he said, then the two of you started laughing which caused the rest of the class to turn and look at you but for once you didn’t even care because you were actually happy for the first time in what felt like forever. 

The rest of the class went by faster than you or Connor wanted it to, but the two of you walked out to the student parking lot together and paused when you reached your cars. “Uh see you tomorrow I guess,” you say but it comes out as more of a question. 

“Yeah see you tomorrow Y/N”, Connor says very confidently which surprised you both. You waved as a final goodbye and got into your cars. As you were driving home you thought about all the awful things you heard about Connor in the past and how untrue they were. Sure he was intimidating at first glance but he’s six feet tall for goodness sake who wouldn’t be intimidated by that. You could tell from the short  class period you spent getting to know him that he was simply misunderstood.  Suddenly you were glad you never listened to what all the popular kids said about Connor. 

As the school year went on you and Connor developed a sort of unspoken ritual, you would wait for Connor to get to school then you two would walk to homeroom together and then walk to your cars when the school day was over. The two of you became good friends and you found yourself actually looking forward to waking up in the morning so you could see him. The pair of you  had hung out outside of school a few times and you had actually met Connor’s mom, granted it was an accident but it still happened. 

You and Connor decided to hang out at his house because his family wasn’t home that afternoon, the two of you were lounging on the couch watching some weird movie when you heard the front door open. “Connor dear? Is that you in there?” Suddenly an middle aged woman with red hair appeared with reusable grocery bags in her hands. 

“Mom?!” Connor jumped up from the couch in a panic. “I thought you had yoga today?!”

“Class was canceled because Cindy wasn’t feeling well. Oh I stopped by the store and  got those  snacks you asked for!” she said coming into the living room box in hand. “Oh? Connor, who's your friend?” she said with a small smile appearing on her lips. 

“Hi Mrs. Murphy. I’m Y/N,” you said nervously. 

“Oh call me Cynthia dear,” she said, shooting you a smile. 

After that Cynthia invited you to stay for dinner but you already had plans with your parents that night. She invited you a couple times after that as well. You never actually went cause Connor didn’t want you to but still it was nice to know she liked you enough to invite you to dinner. 

As fall came to a close the two of you  became attached at the hip, constantly talking to one another whether it was in person or through the phone. Once the holiday season rolled around you guys got each other gifts. You got Connor a signed book from his favorite author and he got you a vinyl you had been wanting for a while.

 Once the holiday break was over the end of the first semester came quickly and you couldn’t wait to finally be done with your half year courses and start the new ones. Unfortunately you had to take finals before you could be done. Although you only had two finals you were still extremely stressed out. Sure they were easy classes but the teachers were notorious for giving impossible finals. You spent the few days before the finals studying whenever there was a free moment. Connor knew you were stressed so he helped you the best he could. He offered to have study sessions even though none of his classes had finals, he went over quizlets on video calls, and he even brought you a drink with way too much caffeine on the mornings he knew you didn’t sleep. 

Once the day arrived he texted you good luck. You went into the first test and totally nailed it. Before the next testing time there was a break and when you checked your phone you saw Connor had texted you telling you how proud he was of you for studying so hard and reassuring you that you had these exams in the bag. You sent him a quick “thank you :))” and went into the testing room for the second time. This exam was a little harder than the last but you still thought you did decent. There were a couple times where Connor and his stupid mneumonic devices actually came in handy. Letting out a giant breath of relief as you stepped out of the testing room you couldn’t wait to tell Connor about how much he helped. When you reached your locker and got your phone out of it you saw Connor had asked if you wanted to hang out when you were done. Obviously you said yes and told him to pick you up at your house in 15. You drove home and changed out of your testing outfit which was just sweatpants and a hoodie and put on something a little more presentable. Sure you were just going to hang out with your best friend but he also is the boy you’ve been pining over for months. You’ve always found Connor attractive and when he put dickhead Klienman in his place that made him all the more hot. But then you really got to know him and you fell. Hard.  He was sweet, caring, smart, and funny. Sure he had his moments but so did everyone on the planet. He had actually opened up to you about his struggles with his mental health and you did everything you could to support him. You encouraged him to ask his parents for therapy, and always made sure he took his meds in the morning. You were there for him and he was always there for you.  

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the horn of Connor’s truck outside your house. You rushed outside and got into the passenger seat, “So where to Murphy?”

“I was thinking we could get some food and just chill in a parking lot somewhere. Sound cool?”

“Definitely. I’ve missed hanging out with you. Stupid finals,” you say with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Yeah I’ve missed hanging out with you too dork,” he says reaching over the center console and ruffling your hair. 

“Connor Murphy! I just brushed my hair and here you go messing it up!” you say while trying to fix your now disbelieved hair. 

“Whatever L/N. It still looks fine to me.”  Although it was barely a compliment, heat still rushed to your cheeks. He pulled out of your driveway and the two of you were off. On the way to get food you guys caught up talking about everything you missed in the world of Connor because you were too focused on finals. He told you he finished a TV show you recommend and loved it.  You made it to the drive through and Connor ordered, already knowing what you wanted from your many midnight outings. Once you got your food you made your way to the plaza parking lot where the restaurant was located. For the first couple minutes the two of you sat in a comfortable silence listening to the playlist Connor had made for this type of occasion. After a few minutes Connor suddenly spoke, “Can I tell you something?”

“Connor dearest you know you can tell me anything,” you say with a french fry in your mouth, not even bothering to look at him. 

“I like you.” You choked on the fry you had in your mouth. 

“Pardon?” you say through a cough. 

“I said I like you,” he says, a little less sure of himself. When you looked over at Connor you saw he was staring straight ahead. 

“Hey Connor.” 

“Mhm,” he says, not daring to move. 

“Look at me.” He just barely turned his head towards you. “I like you too idiot.”

[ontheblock]

BABE U WRITE FOR SALLY FACE?? Anything with Travis (male s/o with him obviously) or Sally please :O your writing is amazing!!

YES I DO !! i used to have a bunch of wips i still haven’t finished but i figured i can still add sf to my list since it was such a comfort game when it came out haha. as per usual, this isn’t beta read, i fucked the formatting up twice but just squint when you notice any errors- also thank you love <3 i‘d give you a free bologna sandwich for requesting trav ily. 100% beef obviously /winkwonk

fabric

•warning: abuse, religious guilt, homophobia and f-slur use, bad first kisses, badly written fluff, travis being travis

Travis was meant to live a life molded for him by his father. The pattern was already placed on the fabric when his first cry shook the hospital room at 6:33am. He was supposed to be cut from his father‘s mold but Travis‘ fabric was already old and frayed, the intertwining strings of muted tones that held him together felt lose by the time he could run. Sometimes he thought about the reason why he was incomplete. His fabric wasn‘t strong enough to hold his family name, not stretchy enough to bounce back from his father‘s reactions. Travis‘ mother patched him up every time there was another bruise on his back or face. She would cut parts out of her own fabric to cover the ripped strings her husband‘s belt left on their son. But she had only so much left when the beatings got worse.

Travis was in middle school, attending a christian summer camp a few hours away from Nockfell. He never noticed how different the air was at home but the sky was so murky compared to literally everywhere else. His father thought it was a good idea to let the boy out of town while he took care of the Ministry business which was code for something Travis shouldn‘t stick his nose into. He never asked but someone went missing while he was gone. Tragic.

Not as tragic as the camp counselor calling Travis home on their last day. The boy didn‘t know about that but they told his father about some inappropriate behavior his son showed with a fellow camper - a boy his age, Kenneth didn‘t care for the name or where he was from. All he needed to know was what his son did with that boy. The counselor tried to calm the angry parent on the phone but as soon as the information was exchanged the line went dead. He didn‘t want to hear the washed up excuses. His son was young and it was best to get these urges out of his system before they could even develop - dig for the deepest root you could find and rip it from the still fresh ground before it bloomed into something ugly, even if that meant that the garden would never bloom at all. Kenneth was a man of action after all.

That evening Travis came home clueless while his father already stood in the hallway with his wife behind him, holding onto his hand and uttering whispered quick prayers but his thick fingers already curled around the leather painfully hard. The strain it caused in his hand only fueled the need for a release as he charged for his son who didn‘t even have the chance to slip out of his worn sneakers.

That evening his mother didn‘t stay when Kenneth told her to go to bed early. Travis asked himself if it pained her the same way it pained him when his skin split under the force his father put in his first few strikes.

“You want to hold hands with boys now?“

“My son isn‘t a faggot, is that clear?“

“I gave you a place in this filthy town. You will appreciate it and live a proper life!“

“You will thank me when you don‘t burn for being dirty.“

It wasn‘t meant for Travis to answer because by the end of the night he would not even think about a boy‘s hand to be soft and warm anymore.

Travis was older now but he never found enough of anything to mend the damage his father did that night. Travis didn‘t try to explain that he held onto the boy because they figured that they wouldn’t slip on the wet mud that way. Instead he kept quiet about it ever happening and his father was content with this as long as he pulled his son from the devil‘s path to sodomy.

And Travis thought so too until a thread of blue fabric pulled together a gaping hole in his fabric. It stuck out like a sore thumb - too vibrant but warmer than any patch his mother gave to him and when he sat on the grimy bathroom floor in school after Sal Fisher of all people gave him a fucking pep talk, it felt nice. The warmth let his tears evaporate so he could pull himself together for the rest of the day.

But it was short lived. The warmth spread through him so fast he felt like burning up whenever he sat in class with Sal. He tried everything to get that blue thread out of his life but pulling on it only felt like strangling himself and he regretted ever letting his bully persona slip in that bathroom just because Sal fucking Fisher found the note he threw away - the note that was about him but Travis never had it in himself to tell him that. He regretted his promise to be less of an asshole because he knew he couldn‘t. Not even three days later the heat in his belly was so hot that he boiled over when he saw Fisher talking to that ginger nerd by the lockers. He ended up calling him a faggot because how dare he be openly gay in the same town Kenneth Phelps lived? How dare he be happy like this?

Sal tensed at the insult. Did he actually think Travis could be better? And why was his freakshow friend not hurt at the insult when it still burned in his throat to say it? Why did it feel like the slur wasn‘t meant for Todd at all? Travis swallowed hard as he fled the hallway in such a hurry that the three folded up pamphlets in his barely zipped up backpack fell on the muddy vinyl flooring.

“Fuck, Phleps. Just wait. Travis!“ The boy in question tucked at his collar as he turned a corner just to slip into another empty corridor. They had a free period right after gym class and Sal Fisher was determined to finally talk to the boy who relentlessly bullied him to now avoid him like it was the other way around. “Jesus, I‘m not gonna pry but if your dad-“ Sally harshly bumped into Travis as he whipped around, finally coming to a stop. Shame crawled up the taller teen‘s neck when he didn‘t find the prosthetic nose digging into his sweater uncomfortable.

“Shut up! God, just stop!“ Sal was surprised that he would use his Lord‘s name in vain like that and if the situation was anything but this he would‘ve laughed. “Travis, I don‘t know how you feel but-“, Sal tried again but Travis was at his limits this time. “You don‘t and you never will, Fisher. Your dad would accept you being a dirty faggot but mine doesn’t!“ He tried to fill his words with venom but it all bounced back on the guy‘s mask anyway with how much his voice actually trembled.

There was a moment of silence that made Travis want to literally get struck by his God‘s angry lightning. He couldn‘t even leave. It was like all the root his father dug out slowly crawled back to feed on his shame and ground him in front of Sal who still had to react and maybe Travis should just tell him to fuck off so he wouldn‘t have to find out what he wanted to say next.

“Travis...“ Sal lowered his voice in a fake moment of privacy. “Are you-?“ Travis already shut his eyes as he clenched his fists. He didn‘t like where this was going but there was no more fight in him. “Nevermind. You don‘t owe me shit but I saw your back.“ Travis exhaled through his mouth until there was nothing left in his lungs. He knew where that question was headed. Are you gay, Travis? Are you the faggot and that‘s why you‘re so angry? He was glad that Sal changed his approach because even Travis himself was too scared to find the answer.

“So what, Sally Face? You‘re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. If you even have one under that stupid mask.“ Travis harshly pushed his index finger into the boys chest and the sharp inhale he made almost made him freeze up and apologize. But he couldn‘t. He was too deep to go soft now. The look in Sal‘s eyes was enough to make Travis finally stumble backwards and push past him.

He didn‘t follow him this time.

His verbal fights with Sal Fisher were like a damn wake up call for the teen. The rush of warmth it spread in his chest and the cold shiver in sent down his spine were shaking his body every time. He started noticing that Nockfell wasn‘t that murky. Travis used to really like yellow as a child because it reminded him of his mother’s favorite sunflower dress. She was a different woman now. The vibrant yellow was fading just like her hair. Maybe it was just Nockfell, maybe it was because of her suffocating husband draining her of her life and slowly unraveling her fabric. It didn‘t matter now but to make a depressing story short, Travis didn‘t have a favorite color anymore.

But the sky looked like a pretty shade of blue on some days. He never noticed but his bathroom tiles had blue specks in them. He always thought they were just a weird grey. There were tiny flowers blooming in the most vibrant blue behind the school and he wished that they were behind the church too but nothing ever grew around that building. But he would pluck them sometimes when he was skipping gym class. His last fight in the empty hallway was weeks ago and he hoped that Sal finally gave up on his savior complex. But why did his chest sting at that thought? His fingers slowly clutched his sweater as he stared at a withering flower by his foot. Travis jumped out of his thoughts when the metal door creaked open.

“Yo.“ Sal pushed the door closed with his shoe as he held up a hand to casually greet him. His face scrunched up. “What do you want?“ Travis lowered his head again. The boy obviously noticed the fresh shiner on his face already but facing him still felt like he exposed himself. “Just wanted to confirm that the church boy was skipping class.“ Uninvited, the teen sat beside Travis on the grass, with a healthy distance of course. “Shut up. My faith has fuck all to do with school“, Travis spoke lowly but his voice was tired. Sal just hummed in agreement before silence draped over them. Not uncomfortably like the usual strained void of reactions when one of them dropped something they weren‘t prepared for. It felt ok like this and it felt like a blanket. To Travis that blanket was soft and blue but before he could shake it off and stand up there were strings of the obnoxious fabric already weaving themself into his personal space.

“We don‘t have to fight all the time.“ Sal didn‘t look at him and neither did Travis. He really didn‘t have a reason to disagree. Not one that wouldn’t blow his cover at least.

“Maybe I could come to your little church and-“ Travis head snapped up. “Don‘t“, he blurted out a little louder than he meant. “It‘s a joke. I‘m not religious.“ Sal snorted, plucking a few pieces of grass. “Yeah, because you‘re a sinner in the eyes of the Lord. You f-“ Travis had to physically stop himself by biting his lip. Sal looked over at him and Travis wished he didn‘t. “Sorry“, Travis mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, or eye since he was pretty sure his other eye never moved before. “I‘m trying to not call people that anymore.“ because all I hear is my father saying it.

“It‘s cool.“ It wasn‘t. “Why are you skipping?“ Travis huffed. It was weird to not let the conversation derail into verbal abuse. “I don‘t know. I fell. Hit my head on the door pretty bad. As you can see.“ Sal just hummed. “That‘s why you‘re limping, too?“ Travis blurted out a “yes“ a little too fast. Why was he nervous? His whole school life already revolved around cover up stories about the strange aches and bruises he got out of nowhere.

“Right.“ Sal let it slide, again. “You‘re acing algebra, Fisher.“ It wasn‘t a question so Sal didn‘t say anything. “Hmm.“ Travis cursed himself for never learning proper social skills but his father didn‘t like him bringing strangers into the house and his teen years were a constant feeling of push and pull of picking fights with boys that sparked an ugly tingle in his belly.

“You need a tutor?“ The silence seemed to be enough for Sal. Fuck him and his open fucking hand. “Maybe.“ Travis flicked a flower with his finger, dismissing the clear offer because his stomach ignited at the fact that Sal didn‘t hate him enough yet. “Maybe there is a tutor in Addisons Appartement, Room 402, who‘s free on the weekend.“ Sal couldn‘t help but smile under his mask as Travis huffed. “Fuck you, Fisher.“

Sal already forgot about his offer when lunch passed and his dad stood in the kitchen, washing their dishes, enjoying the background noise of his son watching TV with his cat. They were so engrossed in the VHS tape Sal put on that he didn‘t hear the door until his dad whistled from the kitchen. “Sally, door.“

“Huh? Oh. Yes, dad.“ He jumped to his feet, leaving Gizmo to the slasher movie he seemed to like. “Weird, Larry said he‘s busy“, Sal mumbled, opening the front door. “Oh.“ It was a knee jerk reaction from Sal because he expected everyone but Travis Phelps to knock at his door and truth be told, he looked like he‘d rather be anywhere else with the way his awkward greeting caught in his throat and died on his tongue as a huff. His eyes followed the way the blue strands hung over Sal‘s shoulders, the mask straps upsetting the smooth texture as a few chunks hung over the elastics. Travis hasn’t seen him with his hair down. He looked smaller in big sweatpants and a band shirt too.

“Travis?“ The boy‘s eyes snapped back to the mask in front of him. “So, algebra?“ Sal tilted his head a smidge. A small habit he picked up to better communicate what would otherwise be shown in his facial features. But it made Travis want to scream for a multitude of reasons as heat crept up his neck. “Obviously.“

Anyone else would‘ve told him to fix his tone or fuck off but Sal held open the door for him. It felt wrong but Travis took the invitation, rubbing his clammy hands on his pants. “Who is it?“, a deeper voice called and Travis almost jumped. He had to remind him this wasn‘t Kenneth. Mr Fisher wasn’t anything like his dad and he didn’t have to be on edge around the boy. “A friend“, Sal replied shortly, only getting an approving hum.

A friend. Did Sal see him as a friend? He couldn‘t dwell on it since he was pulled into the boy‘s bedroom that looked nothing like his. “Just sit anywhere.“ Sal wildly gestured into the room and Travis sat on the barely made bed as Sall dropped his books next to him.

Travis felt like there was something breathing down his neck the entire time they sat on Sal‘s bed. His shirt collar felt like it was about to cinch his neck closed, the dangling cross necklace he kept under his shirt felt hot to the touch like it burned the shape of Jesus into his chest with every sinful thought that crossed his mind as Sal explained the most bland and unerotic subject.

“Travis?“ The boy almost choked on his own spit.

“Romans 1:26-27.“ Travis stumbled over his own words but the verse was engraved into his head after writing and reciting it for a month straight under the stern eye of his father. There was a briefe silence for a moment.

“What?“ Sal looked up from the book in his lap.

“What?“ Travis felt breathless as he stared back at Sal. “Nothing“, he quickly added before Sal could even say anything else. “Explain that again?“ But he didn‘t. Instead, Sal pushed the book off his thigh, still staring the boy down. “Did you really come here for algebra, dude?“ No. “Yes.“ Travis fiddled with the hem of his shirt, not knowing if it was anxiety, anger or just bile scratching against his stomach lining to crawl out of him.

When Sal didn‘t say anything else Travis just reached over the boys lap to take the book himself but there was already a hand pressing against his shoulder. Travis hissed as he pulled his arm back, making Sal pull back just as fast. They stared at each other for a moment before Sal‘s gaze darted to his shoulder. “You fell pretty hard on that door.“ Travis clenched his jaw. “Shut up, Fisher, and back the fuck up.“

The boy shook his head, scooting away an inch. “Listen, you can say no because I would too but I can at least get you ointment for that.“ Sal gestured to his back and shoulder and something in Travis just crumbles as he lets his hands drop into his lap, staring them down to not look at Sal. “Ok. If it gets you off my back you parasite.“

Travis didn‘t plan this when he knocked on the apartment door. He expected to maybe stay 20 minutes before something would make him see red but all he saw was blue. Maybe he was cursed. All these years of plucking out the roots his father couldn’t reach were rendered worthless now that he sat on the rough carpet, holding his shirt up as Sal dug out the ointment.

How did he even get here? His heart beat in his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He felt the need to say something. He wanted to make it clear that this meant nothing to not make it weird but wouldn‘t that make it weirder? Wasn‘t this the same as his mother putting a bandaid on his cuts and whatever herbal mixture on his wounds? It wasn’t because he never felt the sick urge to kiss his mother.

“Ready?“, Sal asked, kneeling behind him with a glob of cool ointment on his index and middle finger. Fucking hell, why did he have to make it weird? He definitely had to say something now.

“It was my dad.“ Travis spoke fast enough to mutter his words but the long pause probably meant that Sal heard him anyway. He wanted to melt into the carpet, leave behind a stain on the boy‘s floor to annoy him just one last time. He didn‘t know what he expected him to say to that and he also didn‘t know why that was the thing he had to say. But Sal made it easy on him by just not answering at all. Instead, he dabbed the cream on the first bruise, making Travis inhale sharply but otherwise biting his tongue. Sal figured that Travis wanted to act tough by not showing that it hurt but actually, Travis didn‘t trust his voice under Sal‘s soft fingertips.

“Travis“, Sal spoke again. Travis wasn‘t sure if he hated the heavy silence more of the fact that Sal was the first to say something while he was rubbing little circles into his back. He didn‘t answer but that never held Sal back.

“Are you gay?“ His voice was so quiet that Travis wouldn‘t have heard it if they sat a little further apart but it had the same effect as screaming it for all of Nockfell to hear. Sal felt him tense up under his touch, already expecting him to jump up or at least yell at him. But neither of them did anything. Sal‘s fingers rested against the heating skin, feeling it rise with every ragged breath he managed to take. “Travis-“

“Fuck, Sal. What? Do you want me to tell you about the times my dad beat the gay out of me or do you prefer that time I wanted to kiss you in that gross fucking bathroom?“, the teen finally barked, letting his words sink in first before he hissed a quiet “shit“. The fingers on his back pulled away as Sal sat on his heels. “You wanted to kiss me?“, Sal repeated, slower than Travis but he just pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes until he saw shapes and felt like the pressure would crush his face. He heard Sal shuffle around the room, probably getting ready to throw him out like he should‘ve done a while ago. But the shuffling stopped in front of him and something told him not to look but cold hands were already on his wrists to peel his cramping hands from his face. Travis opened his eyes just in time to see that mask uncomfortably close but before he could say anything, there was an odd sensation on his lips with minimal pressure. Sal was kissing him and it snuffed the flame in his stomach for just a moment, allowing the torched butterflies to unfold their wings and fly high enough to even make his heart pump overtime. But the feeling was lost just as soon when Sal inched backwards, pulling his prosthetic back in place before Travis could even take any of this in.

“Sorry.“ Sal threw it into the room for Travis to interpret. But the gears in his head threatened to jump out of place already so he reached out to Sal who already flinched backwards, holding onto his mask. “You don‘t want that.“ Sal pushed his hand back a little. “How would you know?“ Travis furrowed his brows at him but he was thankful. He wasn‘t sure if he could take seeing the boy bare like that but he was craving that feeling his father tried to snuff so desperately.

Sal just shook his head as Travis inched closer. “I‘ll close my eyes.“ Now it was Sal‘s turn to hole up in silence, knowing that neither of them could handle the mask coming off. Something made him trust Travis‘ words as he opened the bottom clasp which was the cue for Travis to shut his eyes. He did and seconds later he felt Sal on him again. One hand clamping over his eyes just to make sure and the other fisting the front of his shirt.

This time Travis felt the cleft in Sal‘s lip and the scar tissue ripping up the soft skin. He leaned into the kiss. Where were his hands supposed to go? When Travis didn‘t find the answer his body moved on autopilot. One hand threaded through the surprisingly smooth strands as the other clung to the small of his back.

Travis should‘ve been grossed out by the drool pooling out of Sal‘s torn lip but he wasn‘t. He should be grossed out by Sal being a boy but he wasn‘t. When Sal pulled back he kept his hand over Travis‘ eyes while the other wiped the spit off his chin. The kiss alone was enough to patch up his murky fabric with bright blue strings that dominated the colors his father painted him in. Travis didn‘t know what would happen after high school. Hell, he didn‘t even know what would be tomorrow. But he didn‘t want the bright fibers to unravel him again.

A knock on the door startled both of them, making Sal pull his arm away and Travis rapidly blinking. He didn‘t notice the mangled face first as the unruly blue caught his eye. His hand did that. His heart beat in his throat again as he overheard Sal‘s father say something and Sal shooting a hum of agreement back. His prosthetic was already on his face again before Travis could catch anything besides the scar tissue crawling up his jaw and chin before splitting his lips and exposing teeth and gum.

Maybe blue was his favorite color.

[ku-ro-kai]

Lethal lust

You are taken away to be the maid of a demon although you didn't know what you were getting yourself into

What can I say, u have three holes for a reason

TW; manipulation fluff, angst,blood,monster kink,blowjob,breeding kink,anal,jealousy, non-con,f

You don't remember how you ended up being the apprentice of a fire demon, he picked you from the streets one cold night saying "you'll do good, have you done any work in your life?"

You replied back "no", you couldn't see his face but he was big, least standing at 7'1,he huffed out a sigh "you will work for me,I'm only teaching you once, you fail, you die, you complain, you die got that?" you nodded your head "good, now what's your name mortal"

"(Your Name)" he murmured something under his breath before sending you into a deep sleep.

You aware of the chatter going on around you, sounded like three of them, you couldn't tell who it was, at the end it all sounds the same.

"She's beauty dabi, you couldn't have stolen her off the streets"

"Long as she abide by my rules, she should be easy to work with"

"What's with the broad, you usually kill them"

"She is not to be eaten"

"A human really? What if she gets the wrong idea and kill you"

"No need to worry I have that under control"

After the you went back into your deep sleep

Dabi had awoken you to give you a sleeveless kimono with a flashy obi,vibrant colors leaving small diamond shapes to your waist, it was the emblem he wore on his chest.

You finally seen his face,staples pulling his face together and the skin on his arms, his kimono was open revealing staples holding him in the middle of his abdomen, was he waiting this whole time just for you to wake?

But what you gain so far, the demon named dabi lives in a large Minka,floors covered in Tatami wood and doors that slide when you open them, you've also learned he works with two other demons,keigo takami the Hawk demon, he's lures his victims in by his charming looks -he only prefers women since they have more "fat" stored.

Then there's shigaraki tomura, a decay demon, they don't have a preference when it comes to eating, he likes to watch his "food" suffer in pain from his claws piercing in their lower abdomen, what a painful way to go.

Dabi has given you many warnings about those two;specifically not to piss them off. On the other hand you doubt you could do that, they rarely come to the house , dabi doesn't ask for your help that much furthermore he's been frequently inviting women over, you can't tell the difference if it's moans or screams coming from his room but your sure those women come out with quivering legs.

Peaceful day-you guarantee nothing can ruin it,no concerning moans, no blood soiling the paper walls, no pestering demons,you let the sun dance on your face, the koi fish were swimming without a thought on their minds. You took a sip of your tea watching the trees blow with the wind. Dabi left a note with terrible written kanji,he went out to get more staples, he will be back around midnight you assumed.

"There you are, you look more pretty when your awake" you heard a low soothing voice behind you,didn't even notice the flapping of his wings?

"Oh master Hawks! master dabi didn't tell me you were coming home" you got up from your spot and bowed

"Just refer to me as keigo, never caught your name"

" L/N Y/N" you looked down at the floor, playing with the wrapping on your kimono. He was eye catching, no wonder women were risking their lives just to be in his presence,his dirty blonde locks dripping wet,his golden orbs were gleaming, wings colored a maroon red,his kimono colored in fabrics of honey gold, it was almost see through,the black strikes in the corner of his eyes,hair soaked with water droplets, he must've just came from a bath.

"What a timid little thing you are" he clicked his tongue, his eyes were staring at you like you were prey, you could show a little more skin additionally some makeup should be suggested, dabi was never hard on women, probably to avoid ruining your heart, have you come to him every night in more of him and your needs. But unfortunately dabi was put on a pause, keigo saw this as a perfect opportunity to take you apart, get under your skin, satisfy your every need, you would be great in his harem.

"Master Hawks? Are you alright"

"Yes of course -can you warm some tea up" he watched you bow again, heading into the dining area, a smirk rising at his lips

After giving Hawks his tea, the sun was coming down from it's long day of shining, you heard something crash with a few glasses shattering, "Y/N get over here quickly!" it was the voice of dabi, you ran to the first floor.

Jesus.

He was covered in soot and ashes,smelt like a dead corpse, blood soaking his forehead,Hawks laughed on the side of the door with his arm crossed

"Your not a sun demon remember that dabi!"

"Shut the hell up you chicken basterd" he turned in your direction "y/n prepare a bath for me"

__________

__________

The view was nice but it felt like a close one you'll share with your loved one, dabi was not a close one at all, he was leaning back with a small towelette on his face, well at least all of that blood he was drenched in is off.

You left a bottle of sake by him and he said you can leave for now.

You rested your back on the paper walls of the room dabi was in, your so tired from cleaning the remaining ashes on his hair, a bit of white was starting to appear but you ignored it

You felt a small shoulder tap,"yes master dabi?" turning around in shock, you found yourself facing keigo, his lips were so close to your forehead, of course he was giant too,you were never this close up to him,you could feel his soft breaths fanning against your skin. "You look really tense, has he been stressing you out lately?" he sounded so caring, his talons rubbed gentle hooks on your cheek, he looked at your hands, your palms were covered in scratches from the staples you had to pick out from dabi skin.

"You poor thing, let me heal you up" a feather lifted you up by the thick sashes of your kimono, while he took another hall and few sharp turns "is this new to the house?"

"Of course not, just closed off to you unfortunately dabi forgot to tell you about it, at some point he's gotta share his little cute apprentice with us"

Don't forget y/n he's a complete flirt but the way he's going out of his way to help you is so unlike of demons.

He stopped at door, above it was written in kanji.

Takami.

He opened the door walking over piles of gold and coins,the color of honey gold suited him, the room was covered in jewelry, beautiful silk covered pillows alongside gems and crystals.

"You like to collect a lot master keigo"

"Not exactly these are gifts from the humans I've spared or the treasure for my women" his feather dropped you on his bed, with a swift hand gesture, the feathers moved around the room picking up all the treasure and trinkets.

Keigo took your hand in his grasps, with a few pokes in your palm, the cuts disappeared.

"Good as new"

"Thank you-but I promise there was no need to use magic on me"

There was just words of mumbles to him, keigo was more interested in your chest, the curves in your waist, your birth giving hips.

"You put up with so much from dabi, the talent you show when keeping the house spotless, you deserve a break for all your hard work " he gave you a charming smile

"It just seems like you have a weak spot for me now" you were surely flattered but now keigo was coming off as flirt like you expected with the tone he used, you just pray dabi doesn't come in.

"Aw that's too bad,I'm just speaking my mind " he took your chin in his hands,his talons were so sharp, your almost surprised that he hasn't cut you"your so pretty, you shouldn't be doing treated like this at all " he pecked small kisses at your jaw,going further down on your chest "dabi treating you like a bird locked in a cage" his other hand reached over to rip the obi off your kimono"he has the right idea,I wouldn't share you either"

"Keigo this is a forbidden taboo-"

He placed a kiss on your lips, you could feel his fangs against your tongue,his feathers removed the last of piece of your clothing "what humans and demons having intimacy? You don't really think there isn't such things like half demons" he chuckled at your worried face

"What about master dabi?"

"Who gives a rat's ass about him, he's a pain in the neck and I guarantee he's probably drunk on his second black out"

You couldn't contain the laugh you let out, you covered your mouth in hopes of it not being so loud

Keigo saw the right opportunity to go in for it,he turned you on your stomach, throwing your torn apart kimono on the floor, showing your undergarments, there a feather played with your clothed pearl.

"I prefer your fertile cunt but your not ready for breeding yet.." he placed kisses on your lower back, your small whines were driving him up the wall, his talons gripped down your waist.

"breeding?" what does he mean by that?Hawks ripped your undergarments off in one swift move, licking a long stripe on your bare pussy. Keigo tongue wriggled his against your other hole while his thumb moved in soothing motions on your clit, "prep for you when you are ready for my harem" in the corner of your eye, you saw his kimono fall to the floor,catching a glimpse of his size, you understand why prep was needed,he was big, you arched your back as you felt him nudge against your ass

You let out a painful whine,convulsing down on him out of the uncomfortable intrusion, "I know baby" he cooed while gripping down your marked up waist "Anal can be difficult but you'll get used to it, you don't have choice since I'll be here just for my prize possession after all" with that you felt his groin pull away from your ass and slam back.

He's so rough with his strokes, it was challenging containing your moans, keigo was biting down on your shoulder, his groans were so passionate yet rough, the pain was fading, the pleasure was slowly building up.

Keigo begin snarling, stuffing you with two fingers, you were so close but so far, his fangs pierced your skin leaving you with blood running down your chest and back, he covered your mouth with his other hand to muffle your scream, the pleasure mixing with the pain left you in awe. Your climax hit you hard, clenching down around his length,keigo came right after you,biting more on your weakened shoulder,your visions was starting to become blurry.

Keigo finally stopped took his fangs out of your shoulders, licking some of the blood off your lethargic body, "you did well y/n,such a shame we can't go for round two" he smiled but it hid a wild aura behind it "but I won't lie, your blood tastes magnificent, your definitely the right one for me" afterwards you blacked out.

"I can't wait for you to be my wife, tummy full with my seed, stealing you from dabi has been lingering on my mind since you stepped foot in here" he wrapped your shoulder up with badges before he kissed on your bosom"these are mine" he stopped, looking at his door with a shadow hiding behind it.

"Your more of a creep than I thought" keigo covered your naked body with his feathers, "don't you think you have enough human wives?" his voice was dry,scratcy like he had a cold, he the sliding door opened to shigaraki.

"You look a little jealous, not hard to tell from your hard on" keigo pulled a feather forming a sword, pointing it at the blue haired man"how long were you watching.."

"Since you claimed her with that bite mark" he walked closer "I'm not surprised your fucking food, why not eat her" he chuckled

"I'm not a sick fuck like you" he looked at your sleeping body then looked back at shigaraki "now get the hell out... And don't jerk off to my woman".

A sharp pain awoken you, you looked over to see keigo, his lips were a soft red from your blood, it was really dark or his wings are covering you in a bundle. You couldn't let dabi find you like this though you couldn't really move your legs much, you hoped for the best and went back to sleep.

There was familiar feeling on your skin, it was light and dense, you turned to find your staring at keigo's crimson feather.

"Ah your finally up, you were such a good girl last night that I went out to the market and brought you new kimono, it has sleeves and the collar can hide my markings" the kimono he held out was a pretty marigold color although the bottom was short,”I went a little rough on you so you might not be able stand up straight “ can you even called that a little? You have his bite mark still lingering on your shoulder with multiple marks on your waist and hip,little my ass

Keigo helped you out of bed just to try your new kimono on,he even went as far to do your hair and makeup,”keigo this is too much,how am I supposed to repay you for this,I love it but I can’t afford this,I’m just an apprentice “

“Who said anything about repaying “ he wrapped his arms around your waist taking in your scent “your more than some apprentice,remember your my prize possession, mine and only mines” you were catching butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey I’m a pretty good hairstylist” admiring your beauty in the mirror,”you wish!” He started getting red “I tried okay!” Putting on a whimsical smile, “don’t go near shigaraki “ expression changing with the voice he was putting off,his eyes were almost hawk-like, his smile disappeared,he was holding you tighter like he was gonna lose you”what’s so bad about him?”

He raised an eyebrow “he only see’s you as food “ he lets go of you to look at his wing,pulling out a dainty feather and latching it around some gold string”touch it if your in need of my help” with a few clicks here and there it was on your neck.

_________

_________

Keigo was in a hurry to go, seemed like he had to go to his harem.

It was pouring down bad, you lit some candles up to avoid walking in the dark doing laundry,completely forgetting that the demons you lived with have special eyesight to let them see in the dark,it freaked you out when dabi's blue eyes was glaring at you in the dark"Move over-I have a headache" dabi laid out on your lap, groaning in irritation. "You really need to stop drinking every night" you took some clothes in your hand to fold.

"Don't start nagging about my drinking ,anyways what's with the makeup?"

You didn't wanna tell him keigo did it,along with him fucking you last night so just tell a lie!

"It was just sitting in my room, didn't wanna let go to waste"

He hummed in response

".. How long do you think it's gonna rain?"

"Don't know- don't care.. Mmh wake me up for dinner" he pat your thigh to let you know he's dozing off

You finished folding clothes so you went to grab a blanket to throw over dabi, you knew he wouldn't need it but just for safe keeping. Walking around in search of the kitchen was frustrating, you open a door that looked sealed away, you could hear faint breathing somewhere, you couldn't tell where it was coming from because the room was pitch black

"Wrong room dummy" shigaraki peeked out from the dark "um sorry- it's just so dark I didn't know"

Every step he had taken made you take another step back, his skin was ashen color, blue hair swaying each time, standing at the same height as dabi,you could see a few scars on his lips, his damp loose pants showing his v-line,beads of sweat rolling down his abs, this was the Shigaraki.

"I'll just leave now."

"You interrupted my training, your in no position to leave" he yanked you by the obi, watching it turn to dust in a instant, you reached to cover your body "I suggest you stop that or your little pretty face is next"

He slammed you into the wall knocking the air out of your lungs," I hate when people play with their food" he moved his hair out of the way, his eyes staring at you through your soul "that fucking bird loves taking humans and turning them into brides, I hate it so much it sickens me to my stomach" grabbing a handful of your hair, "then you play stupid with dabi pretending your the perfect apprentice, giving him attention like the little whore you are" he pulled you up against the wall "your supposed to be mines"

Putting up a fight wasn't even worth it,his claws are deadly and dangerous, if you even make the slightest wrong move your done for, you wished keigo was here. You felt a harsh thrash against your ass "look at me",now your legs were on his broad shoulders,you looked at him and his face just splayed confusion in it

“You never done this before have you..”

“ I have!” There was taint pink flushing his face, he was definitely a virgin

“You haven’t and that’s okay“ you opened your legs a bit more to get him in the right position "after all the eavesdropping you did, I would've thought you learned a thing or two"

"Shut up” he moved closer to your mound,out of anticipation his serpent like tongue swiveled around your folds,watching your slick swell on his tongue,finally he thrusted into you without warning,your mewls and whines had been muffled by shigaraki animalistic groans. His tongue was hitting spots that you didn't even know existed,your climax was rising closer.

His tongue came back to his mouth dwelling on your juices “why.. you stop” your pants started

“I just needed a taste..” that’s it?! He did all that just to get a taste!?

You picked up your shredded up clothes,limping back to your room praying keigo hasn’t made it back aswell as dabi still being asleep, luckily shigaraki didn't kill you but he did look like he was upset about something

_________

“Keigo keep it down they’ll hear us”you nuzzled in his lap while picking at his feathers,keigo was too excited about the gifts he brought for you although he’s been out too long and wanted a bath so he suggested you accompany him,”there’s gonna be blood moon tomorrow,I got you the perfect outfit just for it!” he started placing kisses on your back "sorry if I've been gone all day, the girls were feeling down today". You've wondered how many wives keigo has and why he wanted so many, though it wasn't your concern, you didn't wanna upset him if he brought up great news also you didn't confront him about shigaraki.

"Where did these bruises come from?"

Oh he's talking about the one from you being slammed into a wall.

"I fell doing laundry, it's just a small one no need to worry"

"You won't be doing laundry until then, don't even think about cooking, your getting rest for now"

The day was ending, keigo fixed dinner instead of you since you needed rest, it was rare a occurrence when demons ate human food,he brought you food, put you in beautiful silken nightgown. Shigaraki ignored you ever since he pushed you out of his room, dabi was clueless as always.

You went to go get a drink to shut down for the night, gaining more details about them, keigo went to bed early since he thrived in the sun more than the moon, as for shigaraki? This was his time to go find lost humans he could feast upon and for dabi this was usually his moment to get drunk. Too boot seeing him in sober manner and frustrated mood was not what you were expecting.

"The hell are you still doing up"

You looked away from the bulge showing from his kimono, he was sexually frustrated and you weren't doing anything but making it worse on him"I just wanted a drink before bed"

"I'll give you a drink" he grab harshly on your risk, taking you to his room, you fumbled all through the hall.

"Don't you speak this to anyone, especially when you've been whoring around their backs, now we wouldn't want that right y/n?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?" his voice had anger in it

"Yes master dabi" just because he was a demon doesn't mean your gonna let him treat you like this so you add the same tone in your voice

He scuffed rolling his eyes, why did you have to come in on his bad side, he layed down on his bed”on your knees” you got down on the floor waiting,he pulled closer to his groin,he was rutting against your face,was he really that packed up?

Soon as you took his cock out,there was a low growl coming from him,he was painfully hard and already leaking precum ,you gripped the base ,starting with the tip first,working your way down was the easy part but dabi didn’t approve so he pushed you down further until you reached his cervix.this rough assault on your throat had you choking , in shock there was a warm liquid inside your mouth.

His tail wrapped around your waist pulling you to him,he sat up sweating with his smug smirk “open” you opened your mouth as he ordered, his seed pooling on your tongue “perfect”

Thank you for reading❤️ follow me for more!

[thevioletjones]

Congrats on the kudos, u deserve it! I did not undestand if I'm supposed to choose one of the lines for the prompt or if I have to combine two or more lines lol. But if it is to choose only one: number 5. If more than one: 5 and 45. *---*

Thank you! I used both. Great inspiration, actually. It spun out of control! 😀

Prompt 2: “How much of that did you hear?” + “Why are you helping me?”

Interloper

“Jesus, Iggy, I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you myself one of these days,” Mickey threatened in exasperation.

They were both leaning over, hands on knees, gasping for air, just having run full-speed for at least twelve blocks. The pillars beneath the L tracks were now providing the mild seclusion they needed to wait out a cursory police search of the area.

“Ain’t my fault!” Iggy exclaimed defensively.

Mickey’s face scrunched up to a degree that only his dumbest family members could make it reach. “Yes it fuckin’ was! Who else’s fault would it be?”

He’d always kind of wondered how he was the only one in his crap-ass family to be gifted with at least half a brain. Well, him and his younger sister, Mandy. She was alright. Skanky and crazy, but not a total idiot. He couldn’t say the same for his brothers, male cousins, father, uncle, etcetera. Mickey couldn’t even get his begrudgingly favorite brother to follow a simple goddamn plan that would’ve kept them out of trouble when they were out committing crimes. He was just gonna have to start doing everything himself. Safety in numbers didn’t apply when the other member of your team seemed to have been lobotomized when no one was paying attention. It was probably all the meth. Mickey was smart enough to stay away from that particular bullshit. Didn’t want to become a scabby, denture-wearing, toothpick skinny, low-life with no mind left to lose. He was content to stick to coke and weed like a normal person.

“That old bitch came outta nowhere! Self-defense!”

“It ain’t self-defense if you’re robbin’ the joint, numbnuts! We’re lucky you fuckin’ missed!”

If he had it his way, Mickey wouldn’t be doing these petty robberies anymore. He much preferred bigger jobs, like gun and drug running. But times were tough, and he had to do what he had to do. He’d even considered getting a legit job for once in his life, but the skills he possessed weren’t exactly easily adaptable to the straight and narrow path. Being a criminal was how he was raised, and all he knew. It brought heat, but it was still a comfortable fit. Living without the constant presence of major risk would probably feel so foreign as to drive him crazier than a meth addiction in the long run.

The job Mickey’d lined up involved hitting up a few different borderline upmarket stores that’d opened up in their neck of the woods since the gentrifiers had set upon The Yards, then selling the goods to a guy he knew in the online black market trade. Not as lucrative as heavy metal and funny powder, but a decent payday nonetheless. Except fuckface over here who had to ruin everything by getting trigger-happy on Main while they were attempting to heist merchandise from location number two of three. If the pigs nabbed either one of them, they’d be going down for at least five to ten. Years. Mickey was done donating years to the prison industrial complex. The most he could afford was months at best.

“When’d you turn into such a giant asshole?” asked Iggy. “Oh, nevermind, probly when you started gettin’ it railed on the reg.”

A giant smile stretched across his perpetually dirty face, causing Mickey’s eyebrows to lift dangerously high on his forehead. Occasionally, his dumber-than-rocks older brother managed to think up some admittedly clever asides. Mickey didn’t know whether to punch him or give him daps.

Before he could decide, however, he heard a distinct little snicker from the other side of the large concrete column they were leaning on, raising his hackles to invisibly join his eyebrows in their heightened incredulity.

Mickey hastily rounded the pillar and grabbed the giggler by the shirt collar, hauling him to their side and pinning him next to Iggy with his forearm. He looked into the guy’s eyes, and finally registered who it was. He kinda sorta knew him from around town. Used to hang out with his sister back in high school. He was a lot scrawnier then. This version of the dude could probably hold his own with Mickey in a fight. He’d built some definite muscle.

“How much of that did you hear, asshole?” Mickey demanded, seeing Iggy flash the gun in his waistband in his periphery.

This idiot didn’t look as rattled as he should be, though. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Considering I was here first, I guess… all of it?”

He was wearing an annoying little smirk, his green-blue eyes shining bright, and his red hair distracting Mickey as much as the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had a stupidly ultra-defined chin, and Mickey immediately hated it. His chin hadn’t looked like that when he was a 15-year-old pipsqueak.

“Wipe that smile off your face, bitch,” ordered Mickey, pressing his arm harder against the guy’s pale throat. “You think this is fuckin’ funny? You know who we are?”

The guy shrugged again, like this was all a casual conversation on the corner. “Mickey.” He glanced at his dumb, blonde, curlicue brother. “And Iggy, right? I used to hang out with Mandy all the time. Have a good memory.”

“Yeah? Well I remember your goofy ass too, Gallagher. I know where you live and I know who your family is, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your big mouth shut or I’ll pick ‘em off one by one and save you for last. Got it?”

The dude snorted, and Mickey wondered if he was some kind of crazy tweaker with no sense of propriety or self-preservation.

“You outta your goddamn mind or somethin’?” Mickey added. “I ain’t jokin’.”

“Look, Gallaghers don’t snitch, alright?” He held his hands up placatingly. “I promise not to say shit to anyone. It’s none of my business, and I really don’t care. That good enough for you?”

Mickey loosened his hold, but sized him up all the while. “Maybe. But it’s possible you need a little lesson to remember it good. Wouldn't want you to forget about the consequences of you breakin’ your word.”

The dude winced and shoved Mickey off. “I don’t need a fucking beatdown, Mickey. I get it.”

“Ohhhh,” Mickey singsonged derisively, meeting Iggy’s gaze. “He gets it.” He thumbed his eyebrow. “Guess I’m just s’posed to believe you, huh?”

“That would be ideal, yeah.”

Mickey had to give it to him; he almost cracked a smile. The kid had balls. Most people around their neighborhood cowered before a Milkovich like spring lambs. Still, he lived by a code, and letting some rando walk away unscathed when he had dirt on him just didn’t fit the rules.

He cocked his fist back to knock it into tall, pale, and red’s pearly white teeth, just as the stunted siren of a cop car rang out very close by. Their collective heads all snapped toward the sound, and after sharing a meaningful look between brothers, Iggy took off running once again, without a word.

Normally, Mickey would’ve followed hot on his heels, but some unknown force was keeping his useless feet stuck to the dirty ground, eyes watching as Gingerballs glanced around the column at the flashing lights, taking a very long look that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Before he could react outwardly, Mickey was pulled against a hard body, Gallagher’s warm breath sending a shiver down his spine as he whispered, “Be cool. I got you.”

Suddenly, big hands were caressing Mickey’s back, and despite a part of him not minding in the least, the rest of him stiffened considerably.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped out, hearing the telltale slam of a car door, and attempting to pull away. But a strong grip held him close, spinning him around so that he was the one up against the concrete now.

“Saving your thug ass. I know this guy, okay? Just chill and follow my lead.”

Okay, what the hell was this surreal turn of events? Gallagher was bold as shit, cradling Mickey all gay like. Sure, Iggy had made a fag joke earlier, kicking off this whole… whatever it was, but still. This guy had no way of knowing it was based in reality. Did he?

And had Gallagher really been gay this whole time? How had Mickey never sniffed this scorching information out?

“What’s going on here, boys?”

The copper rounded the corner, genuinely swinging his nightstick like a cartoon character, and Mickey had to suppress a deep roll of his eyes.

“Milkovich?” Mr. CPD continued, extreme disbelief coloring his voice.

Mickey was abruptly reminded that he was currently stuck between a rock and a hard body, and nothing about their entanglement screamed anything other than gay, gay, super-fucking-gay. Not that Mickey hadn’t come to accept who he was and what he liked, but he didn’t go around spreading the truth all over town either. This could seriously damage his carefully crafted reputation.

“Tony!” Ian interjected, sparing him from having to invent some lame excuse, and the cop’s eyes snapped to him instead.

“Ian?” His tone was still dripping with astonishment.

“Yeah! What's up? How you been?”

Mickey shot him an ‘are you goddamn serious right now?’ look, and Ian just squeezed his hip in tacit reply.

“Uhhh… gooood? Care to explain whatever…” he waved his stick between them, “this is?”

Ian laughed and he figured the dude truly was a nutcase. Mickey was going to jail for sure.

“Um, well,” answered Ian, suddenly playing it very meek and demure, “Mickey and I were just… you know…”

“You and… Mickey?”

“Not fucking or anything! Just... hanging out?”

“Hanging out.”

“Yeah, you know how it is. I’m tryin’ to convince Mick here to come home with me, but he’s being squirrelly.” He shook his head and shrugged. “South Side guys.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey whispered harshly, completely taken aback.

Ian just squeezed him tightly again, which was not helping his whole brain scramble situation.

“Huh,” said Tony, a tone of acceptance seeping in. “Mickey Milkovich, eh? Wow.”

“Come on, Tony. I don’t have to tell you this is all a big secret, do I?” replied Ian.

“And blondie who ran away like there was a damn fire? Did he flee a threesome?”

Mickey frowned and fake-wretched, finally speaking up. “Fuck no, man. That was my dumbass brother. He don’t like cops.”

“Uh huh. And you and your brother didn’t happen to be getting into trouble about 15 minutes ago, did you?”

“No sir,” Mickey said with a mock salute.

Ian kicked at his foot in warning.

“He’s been with me since like 3 o’clock, Tone. Scout’s honor.”

Officer Tony eyed them both with a look of skepticism, but didn’t contradict Ian’s word. The CB sounded from the open window of the black and white, with some cop-speak crackling over the airwaves.

“Stay put,” said Tony, eyes lingering longer on Mickey’s than Ian’s. “Both of you.”

He retreated to answer the radio call, and Mickey let out a deep whoosh of air.

“Goddamn, Gallagher. You’re spinnin’ quite a yarn here.”

“Yep,” Ian agreed. “A big gay yarn.”

“How the fuck did you know—”

“That you’re gay? Well, I heard Iggy make that joke, obviously. Pretty specific bottom joke to make if you weren’t actually into it. Plus, I always had my suspicions.”

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah fuckin’ right!”

“I did!”

“Whatever. Why are you helping me?”

“Out of the kindness of my heart?”

“Try again.”

“I don’t know. Why not? Makes us even or something. Now you know I won’t rat you out. About any of it. I wouldn’t out someone like that, and I don’t give a shit about the illegal crap you’re wrapped up in. Tony Markovich is like turbo gay too. Used to bang my sister, I think, but he came out a couple years ago. He won’t let it slip about you. He’s not a total bastard just cuz he’s a cop, ya know?”

Mickey bit his lip in contemplation. Gallagher seemed pretty genuine. Still didn’t much make sense in his brain, but whatever.

“Fine. But you know what’s gonna happen if—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, kick my ass, kill my family, got it.”

“You’re a cocky little shit, ain’t you?”

Ian smirked again, and it was pretty sexy, actually. “Maybe.”

He had the gall to push against Mickey more fully, pressing the bottom halves of their bodies closer together.

Mickey gasped. “Gonna have to ask you again… what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“You wanna go out sometime?”

Mickey cackled in his face. “You’re off your fuckin’ rocker for sure.”

“Am not! I can tell you want me.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Cocky little shit doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?”

“Come onnnn,” Ian prodded.

“Do I look like I date, Gallagher?”

“A date can be whatever we want it to be, Milkovich. I’m easy.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“Okay,” Tony interrupted, coming back into view. “Get the hell outta here. You wanna bang, do it indoors somewhere, or I’ll have to arrest you for public indecency or worse. And Milkovich… if I find any evidence of what I’m sure you know I’m talking about, I’ll be paying your ass a visit real soon.”

Mickey let the eyeroll loose then, withholding a flip of his middle finger, and deadpanning instead, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, officer.”

Tony sighed loudly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Ian cried at his retreating back.

“You always kiss cop ass like that? Cuz that’s not the way to get into my pants, Red.”

Ian just grinned, finally pulling his body away as he looked around. “You gonna follow me home or what?”

Mickey wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and swagger away like a badass. But was he not a thirsty man being propositioned by a hot guy who just randomly saved his ass from a trip to the slammer?

He at least feigned protest, huffing and puffing as he kicked at the dirt. “Goddamn it, Gallagher, you drive a hard bargain.”

Ian’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, as Mickey added, “Lead the way, weirdo.”