#im sure there are plenty more i need to sit down and read it properly once they get together instead of using yhe otger chapters as a balm..

[gaoau]

一 ; one ; uno

it's so cold warnings — none. word count — 4.0k

next.

ive long realized plenty of things i never needed—the past is never behind us, the present is fleeting, the future doesnt exist. theres a wrinkle in the sands of time. theres a fault in the fabric of the universe. there are many flaws everywhere i look. sano manjiro lies dead before me. mikey lies dead before me. blond hair and a dragon tattoo because we both miss ken. black hair that makes him look too much like shin. white hair and dark bags covered in tears. how many times have i seen this already? why have i seen this already? everything is broken. its disastrous and confusing and suffocating. i dont understand what im looking at.

i remember, just seconds ago, i was busy beating up some random guys from a rival gang. theres a reason we rule over the kanto area. we dont back down from a fight. so where did i go? where am i? why am i seeing this now? these are memories of a future i dont have. these are memories of a future i shouldnt have. its enough to drive me insane when i think that this is all i get for being next to mikey. i hold my breath and choke whenever hes around. that intoxicating grace of his, the one that sets him apart from the world, has been flooding my senses for longer than i can take. and i let him, because i want him to be happy. this is all i get; blood, gore, pain, death, loneliness.

i dont want to think about mikey any longer. ive done all i could, it seems. id just like to be free for one moment. i still see it all, futures im not a part of, futures that takemichi has made sure to change.

he wears that godforsaken dragon tattoo like a brand on his neck. long hair hes kept dyed through the years because he doesnt want to cut it off, but he doesnt want me to style it for him. i look at him and i see ken. its torture. the years have gone by, im still by his side, he still has me locked in place. he hasnt smiled in what feels like eons. im okay with that. his smile, that empty, silent smile has always made my stomach ache. im not okay with that. hes a carbon copy of ken. we both miss him, i know. it hurts him more than me, even if im the one staring at a burning ghost all day, every day.

we're alone. im alone with mikey. im all alone when im with him. its cold on top of this building, in the corner of the world, secluded from the city weve conquered. i stretch out my legs, leaning against the wall, squinting at the reflection of led lights bending to hit my eye. mikey is still as small as ever. hes so small despite sitting on his throne like this. the gun i hold weighs on my hand. neither of us know how to properly handle guns. weve been drowning in this business for over a decade, but we're very clearly still children.

the safety clicks as i press the barrel under my jaw. "itd be so easy, dont you think?" the sound of my voice calls to him. its the only familiar sound in his life. its why ive been staying with him. i couldnt save him, but at least he still clings onto me like this. hes had me trapped for so long that i seem to have forgotten i was ever my own person.

his darkened eyes shift towards me so slowly. i see his face twist into a panicked frown. "whatre you doing?" he doesnt move from where hes sitting against the wall adjacent to mine. he reaches with his foot to tap my knee. stop, hes trying to say, dont even think about it. hes scared, i can tell. ive learned to read him like the open book he is. his light has grown dimmer through the years. hes angry, i can tell. hes wondering if ill leave him, too.

"nothing," i sigh. i lower the gun and leave it on my lap for a second. "m just thinking…" and i think. yes, i think. i know i cant leave him. he doesnt let me. he keeps me tied down to him. a chuckle falls, sardonic. i point the gun at him. "i cant die before you, mikey." ive promised. ive sworn to stay by his side until the bitter end—until his bitter end.

he doesnt bat an eye. "are you gonna kill me?" its funny how he doesnt care that im the one wholl be killing him. im just making my job easier for myself. i wonder what kind of face kisaki will make when he finds out what ive done.

"do you want me to?" i know he does. tonight ill see we find peace, manjiro. im the only one who he can lean on now.

hes quiet for a second. his eyes are like black holes as they swallow up all the light. he stares straight at me without expression. then, in a whisper, he begs, "…please." he doesnt say my name. no, he hasnt said my name more than once in our lives. he calls me by that stupid nickname he made up when we were hanging out at grandpas dojo.

i cant help the soft simper pulling at my lips. hes still the same mikey i know. he still struggles with asking for help, even if its me. but he still asks; hes still vulnerable in front of me. i pat my lap, legs stretched out just for him. "come here, then," i invite him closer, ready to welcome him with open arms, "rest your head for a bit." rest before you leave.

he doesnt hesitate. he never hesitates. in a swift movement, the back of his head collapses onto me. his eyes, the ones hes kept me trapped in for all my life, they dance around the vast expanse of midnight above us. "the stars are lovely today." stars i once promised to drag down to his feet if he asked. stars i swore wed always watch together.

i hum in agreement. "thats why we're here." everyone knows that stars only come out at night. we both know we're the two brightest burning stars in the world. we sit here, where people can see us burn and consume ourselves until we get crushed. "itll be over soon, i promise." the same way i promised him forever. ill hold him until the moment he dies. 

"thanks." ah, now he chooses to use my actual name. he can be so unfair. he could save a life, but he decided to take mine away instead. under his charm, i let him drag me down. we die hand in hand.

there are no tears; not from me, not from him. it seems weve both been waiting for the other to make the first move. hes so tired and so am i. with a singed throat, the words sting on my tongue as i remind him, "i love you, manjiro." theres no other feeling in the world like loving sano manjiro. i look into his darkened gaze and deny the truth staring back at me. its all a mess, scraping away at my mind. my love and hate look quite alike.

i can hardly tell light from dark or right from wrong anymore. mikey replies, "i love you." again, he dares not say my name. i hate him. he makes me go weak at the knees, even as i slump against the wall. i wonder if its him or the cross im bearing on my back, weighing me down.

mikey closes his eyes. he wants to let go. hes letting me go. its been years and hes finally letting me go. the wind howls and screams our names in my ears as i press the barrel of my gun to his forehead. we're stars; we'll burn, we'll rest, we'll disappear. we go down together. i shoot. his body relaxes against my legs. i feel the warmth of his blood seeping through my clothes. hes free. the gentle quirk of his lips tells me hes happy hes dead. maybe im just making it up. maybe i just want to believe ive done something.

i lift my head to the sky. the gun is warm against my skin. my pulse doesnt tremble when i pull the trigger.

im free.

but we arent free. i walk into his room to find mikey slumped against a corner. hes here again, a ghost of ken. how come his eyes grow darker every time i look? i scratch away an itch on the underside of my jaw, clearing my throat to let him know im here, it's me. he doesnt bother lifting his head for me. i stand right in front of him, bare feet centimeters away from his crossed legs. ive heard what hes done. he didnt check in with me before killing our friends. if takashi dies, then i stay. if pah dies, then i stay. ken and kei died, so i stay. he knows ill follow him to hell.

it hurts me, too. he cant let go of me and hes bruising my wrists. i want him to be happy. i want him to be free. i want to be free. "takashi, pah, peh, chifuyu." the list rings with poison in both of our ears. how did we get here?

"takemicchi got away," he mumbles. i highly doubt takemichi matters much right now. we stopped trusting him long ago. he changed after bloody halloween and mikey couldnt understand why.

i crouch to try and meet his eyes. charming, deadly works of art. viral. it's been years, but he still holds me in his gaze. "never woulda guessed chifuyu was working with tora. after killing kei, i thought for sure he wouldnt forgive him." theres no sugarcoating needed. i dont censor my words. his wounds are fresh and i keep digging my fingers into his flesh to make them deeper. i make all his mistakes real for him because he wants to be scolded. he cant ask for sympathy—he only asks for cruelty.

theres a pause. a silence that hangs. it's heavy, stagnant. it pulls at the seams. "kazutora needs to go, too."

my knees come in contact with the floor as i lean towards mikey. i wrap my arms around his head, cradling him to my chest. hes still warm. he rests his forehead against me. "theres no time, mikey. you cant do this any longer." youre falling apart, manjiro. i pull my gun from its holster, cocking it as i bury it in his hair.

"set me free." he pronounces that stupid nickname, chaos of my real name. i cant discern if hes begging or ordering me.

i hum softly. he put his trust in me. "i love you." he nods. the gunshot echoes in the quiet room. it rings in my ears. i see splatters of mikeys blood on the wall. i feel his body relax in my arms. with the barrel against my temple, i shoot myself free.

a headache splits my skull apart as i watch this unwind. have i seen this before? no, mikeys hair is pitch black. im glad he doesn't let it fall over his forehead. i don't think i could bear to look at shin so much. i was adamant to cut it for him when he asked. the list is the same, though much longer. takashi, pah, peh, chifuyu, tora, the twins, hakkai, even ken. hes talking with takemichi now. it's easy to tell what mikey wants from him. im no good in this future. i don't have what takemichi has.

there is nothing left here for us. i wait among the shadows and debris, listening to mikey confess all his crimes. he veered down the wrong path. ive kept by his side all this time, holding him at his most vulnerable, but im not a savior. takemichi can save him in a way i can't. all ive done so far is push back the inevitable. mikey falls victim to his dark impulses every time. who am i to stop him? he keeps the safety of his gun on; i don't. i can save myself.

"kill me," he says. i feel like ive heard that before. it's not directed at me, though. i won't stop him. all mikey wants is to die and be free. that's what i want, too.

takemichi is, understandably, confused. he doesn't get it. maybe that's why mikey has chosen him. takemichi tries to figure out what mikeys trying to tell him. he asks about the friends hes murdered. it must be frightening for him to hear his former commander speak so nonchalantly about setting hakkai on fire. he asks about me. mikey glances at where im hidden. i catch the look in his eyes. those eyes that had me wrapped around his finger when he so intensely stared into my soul. they quiver.

hes helpless. hes scared. hes tired. hes horrified. he doesn't know what to do. he pounces on takemichi and threatens him. then a gunshot rings. it's not mikeys, it's not takemichis. and it's certainly not mine. mikey is dead. mikey is free. i swore to him that i would see him to his end. we die hand in hand, don't we, manjiro?

tachibana naoto, hinas little brother shot him. i remember her mentioning him to me once. ironic how hes the one to kill mikey, of all people. as takemichi cradles mikeys dead body in his arms, i step out of my waiting spot. it alerts both men instantly. naoto is wary of my presence, but takemichi believes in hope. he exclaims my name with enthusiasm. perhaps he thought mikey had killed me as well when he didn't answer. as if mikey would ever let me go.

"im just here to pick him up," i let them know i mean no harm.

naoto is a cautious man, if anything. "takemichi-kun, get behind me." id never do anything to hurt takemichi. he doesn't need to be worried about me.

i kneel before takemichi, extending my arms out. i remove mikeys burdens from his chest to take him away with me so we can both find peace. his blood smears on my clothes and i know takemichi will have a hard time forgetting this sight. mikey doesn't weigh much. it's painful knowledge.

as i haul mikey away, takemichi calls, "wait!"

there's nothing left to say, though. mikey has confessed all his crimes. mikey has confessed all his pains. "it's over, takemichi." i can't bring myself to curse him with that stupid nickname after all these years. "it's finally over." we're finally free. welcome home, manjiro. i wonder, if i smiled, would it hurt him? it'd be genuine happiness, but it's not like he'd be able to read that, so i don't. mikeys body is cold and stiff against mine. i let him rest against me, eyes closed and dried tears on his cheeks. he hasn't cried in so long. he leans his head on my shoulder. he always does this when he lets his vulnerability show. "i love you, manjiro," i remind him. hes all i have. i press my gun to the roof of my mouth. i don't get to taste it.

it's never over. my tongue feels dry when i chew on it out of anxiety. ive heard three shots. i see haru waiting behind a corner as mikey finishes his business. i didn't even glance at takemichi before i decided i couldn't do this. i wonder how much longer it'll take mikey to come up here and join me. this is the tokyo we conquered; this is not the dream mikey had. if he'd had a better moral compass, if he hadn't let ken go, if he hadn't put his trust in me, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

i hear footsteps behind me. here he is. i hug one of my legs to my chest, the other one dangling off the edge. we're on top of the world. it's a long way back home from up on this rooftop. he stands next to me in complete silence. so he's left takemichi to die. he was hopeless and helpless until the very end. i can't blame him. he's been through so much. he doesn't know how to share. he takes on all of the pain. he can only ask to be punished, because aid isn't a word in his vocabulary.

mikey pipes up, "you've been waiting for me here?" it doesn't surprise him at all. i know him like the back of my hand. this is how he takes responsibility for the last decade of misfortunes. he'll end it all.

"i couldn't bare to watch you keep making these mistakes," i reply truthfully. ive seen this before. i glance up at him and he glances down at the street. don't look down, manjiro. you won't survive this trip to hell.

it sounds like he wants to laugh. he doesn't. instead he brings back a conversation we had when we were fourteen. "that's why you're better than me." hardly. he says that stupid nickname clinging to me like a curse.

"after you." i motion towards his kingdom, to the path covered in blood and snow.

mikey looks at me briefly, quiet. then he cranes his neck up at the sky. "you won't stop me?" i see the tattoo on his nape. he put it there so he wouldn't have to look at it. it burns on his skin as it burns on my shoulder blade.

"i can't." i don't have the rights to stop him. i didn't do it in other timelines, im not going to start now. this is the only way for us to be free. it's tragic how unfortunate we are. maybe we deserve it.

how does one normally respond to a friend committing suicide? how does one respond to a friend letting them commit suicide? it's not what mikey does when he hums. "i'll see you later." he disappears into his own mind. whose face is he seeing? shins? emmas? i would hope. "everyone, let's do this!" there's a grin on his face. ive missed it. he hops off the roof and away from me.

"ill see you later."

i hear haru screaming all the way from the street. he's distressed. he's been with manjiro just as long as i have. mikey trapped him the same way he trapped me, but somehow worse. i know im not free as long as i stay next to mikey. i stay out of love and selfishness. haru stays out of fear and obsession. i know im not free, but im still my own person.

and i don't fool myself.

mikeys falling to his death, peaceful. an arm shoots out from the building and latches onto him. i smile bitterly, a sigh tumbling from my lips. "sucks that death is a bit of a bitch for both of us." i want to jump, too. i stick to my perch and swallow my pride, because im my own person, but im not. i can't die before mikey, i can't leave him alone.

i see the tears pouring out of his eyes. he begs for help, finally, for the first time in his life. it's enough to make me cry, too. he's being weak for the whole world to watch him burn himself to oblivion. takemichi scolds him. he struggles to hold on when the cross he's bearing weighs him down. twelve years of pain make him slip from his saviors grasp. there's nothing i can do.

blond hair and passive, ken's tattoo, black hair and chaos, izana's earrings. reality is broken for me, pieces of different timelines scattered on the floor. i have all these memories that aren't mine. mikey lies dead before me in a billion angles no one else can see. i don't understand why im seeing this now. i know ive seen it before. it's been two years since i last had to suffer through this. time is shattered and it hurts.

i hear that nickname ring in my ears. when i blink, mikey's corpses are gone. there's a weight in my hand and it's not from a gun. im gripping an unconscious boy by the collar. my knuckles sting. the skin of my hands is split open, bleeding. i remember now. we were wiping out a rival gang that challenged us. i turn towards mikey, trying to blink him into focus. "sorry, what'd you say?"

he stares back at me with hollow eyes. there's a tiny furrow in his brow that others wouldn't be able to pinpoint. "let's go," he repeats, nodding his head for me to follow him. i see haru and koko waiting for us behind him. they both look away when i catch their gazes.

"oh, yeah." i clear my throat. the kid im holding slips from my fingers and crumbles on the floor. his head bounces when it hits the ground. next to the blood splattered on the dirt, a tear drops. i realize it's mine instantly. im crying. i wipe at my eyes with my sleeve to pretend nobody saw me. i don't think i can explain what's made me cry like this in the middle of a fight. there's a discomfort in my throat, and remnants of a headache pulse in my temples, and the roof of my mouth itches. im still crying. the tears fall, but i feel nothing. this anguish isn't mine to feel.

i cough into my fist as i walk to stand next to mikey so we can head back. there's an open gash on his leg that he's ignoring. what's a little wound to the invincible mikey, after all? i know nobody is invincible, let alone manjiro, because i know people die, because ive killed him with my own two hands. ill take care of it for him later; mikey is my responsibility. he waits for me to join him. my shoulder brushes against his. he glares at my tears so intensely. "are you okay?" he asks quietly, like he doesn't want the two boys ahead of us to hear.

i turn my head to find his eyes. it's like he's trying to bring all my deceit to light, like im not allowed to hold secrets. i see those black holes that swallow up his own deceit. all i see, rather than the mikey right in front of me, is his corpses in variety, because i killed him, because i let him die, because that's what he wanted and that's the only way he could be free. so i clear my throat again, "yeah, just got dizzy." he knows it's a lie, instantly. my voice doesn't waver when i lie, but it gets small. he knows.

he lets silence hang for a moment. "did you eat today?"

i shake my head. "i was waiting for you." my attention flutters back to the two boys a few paces ahead. they're awfully quiet.

so is mikey. i feel him still staring at me. "okay." and he looks away, too.

[bts-hyperfixation]

IM DYING ☠️

Okay no not really, I'm just sick and super melodramatic about it

It's been done a thousand times before and it'll be done a million times more: bangtan reactions to you being sick 🤒 I need comfort

here is one i did about covid a while back. - I didnt read the wwhole thing in a while so there might be some repeats.

Namjoon - Phones his mom for some sort of ancient Korean remedy that only moms seem to know. He then makes you eat/drink a lot of it until you're not sure if you're still sick or just nauseous from the intake. After that he will get you comfy in bed and sit on a chair nearby reading you a story so you can fall asleep to his deep comforting voice (If he isn't afraid to get sick so there are no promotions going on he will probably sit in bed and stroke your hair too.

Seokjin - Doesn't have to phone his mom, he had some kind of magic kimchi recipe that clears your sinuses right out. I think Seokjin is a fusser. He will hover around you constantly, checking in every half and hour to make sure you don't need anything and are getting enough rest. He provides you with many blankets and if he leaves the house he returns with a new stuffed animal or surprise box toy in the hopes that it'll make you smile just for a second

Yoongi - Very practical. When he first notices you are getting sick he will run a bath for you and sit next to the bath helping you to wash the areas you cant reach because its too much energy. He gives you his soft clothes to wear to bed so your's don't get associated with sickness in your head. He refreshes a cold compress for you every so often and then mostly leaves you be. He worries himself so much he will also probably end up sick.

Hoseok - Spends a lot of time cuddling you and watching whatever shitty comfort movie it is that you want to watch, he will even pay for extra streaming services or downloads just to get you the exact shitty movie that you are craving no matter how obscure. He orders in plenty of juice and soup to help flush your system and just ugs you until the worst passes.

Jimin - Probably frets a lot. Wants to call the doctor even when you assure him it's nothing. Phones Namjoon for his moms cure all. FIlls the room with fresh flowers and balloons everyday because he feels like if you can't see the physical manifestation of his love he won't be able to make you feel better. Big on force feeding you soup and laying in your lap while you sit up because lying down probably makes it hard to breath and your head pound.

Taehyung - I feel like sick people break Taehyung. He really struggles to think of ways to take care of people properly, he tries his darnedest though. As soon as he knows you are sick he deposits Tannie in your lap so you have a nice warm friend to hug and then he goes out and buys an almost criminal amount of pain killers and bath soaks. Then he comes back and climbs into bed with you so you can all take a nap together.

Jungkook - Clingy bunny(tm). I wouldn't call it hovering like Jin because hovering implies some space, this man tried to follow you into the bathroom... Still he is a reassuring and warm presence when you get the chills. and despite all of the hard abs he is a very excellent hugger and will do your bidding regardless of how ridiculous the ask.

I hope you feel better soon!

[ijzermansdriesen]

❤️

When I read this ...Sander saying this to Hanna, also feels like he is saying it to himself as well about Robbe...now that he's gonna be raising his baby alone...

And then there's Robbe, in the first chapter, within moments of setting his eyes on Amelia goes: “I want to move back in.” ...“...Now I know how I want to be involved. I want to be here. Every day. Living it with you. Being here for both of you. Relieving some of your worries and stress. Taking on some of the responsibilities.”,,,, already a dad.🤍

The selflessness and love that is so inherent to Robbe couldn't have peaked more, he is such a giver<333 and I can't stop thinking how Sander's heart must have been bursting with love in that moment. Robbe is so right for him :') he is even beyond what Sander could think of.

I love your Robbe so much ❤️•́ ‿ ,•̀

This could get long...you have been warned. 😆😍

The one thing that becomes abundantly clear in my fics (and on my tumblr) is that I LOVE Robbe. He is by far my favorite character in all of Skam, and there's a reason for that. I am drawn to a very specific type of person. My family jokingly calls it "the boy scout," but essentially I find kindness and goodness attractive. There's a reason Captain America is my favorite Avenger and that I cried when Sam "I'm the most amazingly, wholesome, good person on the planet" Wilson became the new Cap. (Seriously, ugly crying, I love Sam Wilson.) I adore Peeta. He was my favorite character from day one, and when that goodness was destroyed in Mockingjay, I cried angry tears. She ruined the most loyal, honest character ever. Alec in The Shadowhunter Chronicles--his defining characteristic is that he's a protector, fiercely loyal. He didn't kill a demon until he was 19 bc he was out there defending Jace and Isabelle instead. Sure, he can be a sassy ass, but goodness literally pours out of him. Any time Magnus describes him, it's like he can't comprehend how honest and wholesome he is. It's literally what attracts him at first--shock at this enigma of a Shadowhunter. I could go on, but I'm sure you get the point.

Back to Robbe, so canon Robbe is like this for me. He never spoke ill about his mother or MI. All he did was love and support her. He never pretended to like Jana, and he immediately felt guilty for messing things up for Jens. He suffered a shit ton more homophobia during season 1 and 3 than the other Isaks, which is why his internalized homophobia was so deeply rooted (and why he did make a few bad choices - faking it with Noor, the slur). He actually liked Noor--as a friend, and that's why he tried so hard to make it work, and why they stayed friends afterward. And here's the big one for me, he BROKE UP with her before pursuing Sander. Sure, the pool kiss happened first, but it wasn't planned. He did not purposefully cheat. He manned up and didn't ghost her. For me, that was HUGE. And then we get to Sander. He biked around in the cold for over an hour, only to be pushed away. He broke up with Sander, not bc he was afraid of his MI, but bc he was told it was better for him, that he needed to stay away. Admittedly, his fear, shock, and misinformation led to illogical thinking, resulting in breaking up with Sander over text, and who would have thought Moyo would be the one to clear that up (whoo!). But the second he realized he was wrong, that he'd made a mistake based on incorrect info, he fixed it. He reached out. He called. He texted. He went to visit him. He didn't wait for Sander to need him, to reach out to him. He was actively pursuing him, all while thinking it was over bc he screwed up. All of this is what makes Robbe so special to me. He isn't perfect, but he always acts with a kind heart. None of this has been negated or challenged in later seasons. His fierce, loyal devotion to Sander is all over insta, and he literally glows with pride.

Now to my Robbe in "I Want it All," he's not perfect by any means, not like the Robbe in "Color of Love." I think that one was a little too one-dimensional, mainly because it was all seen through Sander's rose colored glasses. "I Want it All" was actually difficult at first because I usually write from Sander's POV, and it started with Robbe. I find it much easier to think like Sander and just gush about him. Having to be in Robbe's head made things more challenging, but what I've found as the story has progressed, is that Robbe's amazingness is still obvious, BUT we can see that he's flawed. He's (unintentionally) been awful to Sander. Many times. He allowed the Broerrrs to affect their relationship; he was a total ass after the kiss; and he completely ignored his own physical and emotional reactions to Sander, immediately followed by flaunting a completely inappropriate and awful boyfriend in his face, however unconsciously. I'm personally convinced, and since it's my story, I can state it as fact, I guess, that Robbe's jealousy chose Carlos to purposefully punish Sander for proposing to Hanna. It was a rebound, just not in the traditional sense. Granted, he's completely unaware of all this.

Somehow he's still the most caring, supportive, loving friend. One of my personal favorite moments is when he's taking care of Sander during the pregnancy. That's such a selfless, loving thing to do, and he's doing it by choice, not because anyone asked. He recognized that Sander was struggling to balance everything, and he stepped in. To me, that's love. It's unconditional, and that's what drives Robbe. He loves Sander unconditionally, and it's completely unrelated to romance. Even before he realized he was in love with him, he always gave Sander what he needed--a partner to raise his daughter with, companionship, laughter, help around the house, little presents that represent how important Sander is to him, etc. Apart from recognizing the meaning of his and Sander's feelings, he's completely in tune with him and always has been. We're not there yet, but imagine how heartbroken and utterly awful Robbe will feel when he realizes just how long Sander has been waiting for him. We got a glimpse of it in ch. 5, but our poor boy is going to judge himself rather harshly.

The dynamic is so different between them because Robbe is oblivious to his feelings, and Sander is not. What Robbe does and how he acts is completely out of love, no strings attached. He has no ulterior motive. That's what makes him so kind and sweet. Sander's actions, at least in this last part, are always tainted by his unrequited love for Robbe. He loves him. Always, but his disappointment and frustration get in the way. His choices and actions take that unrequited love into consideration, and because of where they are in their lives and the miscommunication, he actually acts against his own interests and feelings to try and protect himself. It's a very interesting distinction when you think that the one who is romantically in love with the other is the one in a serious relationship with someone else while the oblivious one hasn't really dated and only got a boyfriend after the proposal. Ouch. I'm not attacking Sander here at all because I love him too, and it's my fault he did all this; but my clear, obvious preference and love for Robbe and his absolute kindness and goodness, really shines through here.

Anyway, this really was long, but I do love Robbe. He is my favorite, and chances are any future fics will continue to make that obvious.

[queenxxxsupreme]

hey! been feeling a bit down lately (started a new medication and with the quarantine too im hyperconscious abt my weight), would you be able to do a fic with either dettlaff or regis reassuring the reader of their appearance?:) tysm!! -🔮

A/N: Oh babe, I can relate to this so much. I chose Dettlaff for this!

You frowned as you looked down at the red gown pooled at your feet. It wasn’t going past your hips. 

You checked to make sure the gown was unlaced completely before trying again. You silently prayed to the gods that the dress would slide up over your hips. You needed this dress to fit! There was a celebration coming up- a party for Geralt’s child surprise -and you needed to be able to wear this gown. It was your favorite, as well as Dettlaff’s. The dark red silk was his favorite, and then the black lace around the bottoms of the sleeves and the bust worked perfectly with Dettlaff’s attire. 

You sighed in frustration as the dress refused to go over your hips. You let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror a little closer, paying attention to your hips. Admittedly, you had gotten bigger. Your clothes fit tighter than usual as of late, but you didn’t think you gained that much. 

Your stomach twisted up at the thought. What if Dettlaff noticed? What if he was disgusted by the way you looked? Surely he was too much of a gentleman to mention it to you. 

As dark thoughts began to invade your mind, you changed into more comfortable clothes, a pair of sleeping trousers and one of Dettlaff’s shirts. 

You moved out of the bedroom, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. 

Dettlaff sat in his favorite chair in the living room, reading a book. He looked up when he saw you. 

“Did you….” He trailed off when you didn’t look in his direction. It was like you had one goal in mind and that was to get to the kitchen. He took note of the frown on your lips and the way a crinkle formed between your brows. “What’s wrong, darling?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice enough to speak. 

He closed his book to focus on you. You went to retrieve the kettle and put water into it. Then you hung it on the hook over the fire. 

“Darling, come sit, please.” He patted his thigh, concerned that you weren’t looking at him. 

But still, you shook your head. You retrieved your favorite mug from the cabinet and placed it on the counter. As you waited for the kettle to whistle, you looked down on the empty mug. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your dear husband. 

“Y/N.” He murmured. “Tell me what’s wrong, please. Why won’t you come sit on my lap while you wait for the water to heat up?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You mumbled, but he could hear every word perfectly. 

“I’m sorry, my dear. I’m afraid I don’t understand. How would you hurt me?”

You let out a heavy sigh, bringing your eyes up to look at the fire in the hearth. Your heart hammered in your chest. You were sure he could hear it. 

“Because I’m too big. I’ll hurt you sitting on your lap.” You turned to put your back to him, unable to chance seeing his beautiful blue eyes. 

But Dettlaff was behind you before you had a chance to get very far. His hand, though large and rough in texture, gently grabbed your arm and turned you around to face him. 

“Why would you ever think such a silly thing?” His deep baritone was soft and gentle, carrying a tone that made you nearly melt right then and there. 

You shook your head and tried to look away, to look anywhere but at him. He won’t let you though. 

Tears welled in your eyes and poured down your cheeks before you had a chance to stutter out some excuse. 

Dettlaff said nothing. His arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms securely around you. As your shoulders jolted and shook with your pitiful sobs, he held you. His hand found the back of your head, cradling you to his chest. 

“Hush, my love.” He kissed the side of your head. “You’re going to make yourself sick getting so worked up.”

Your fingers clutched at his tunic. You were fearful. Fearful that if you let him go, he’d disappear. Fearful that when you pulled away, he’d agree with what you said. Fearful that he’d finally see just how unfit you were for him. Fearful that he’d see all of your flaws. 

Dettlaff was patient with you, brushing his fingers over your hair and sometimes kissing just above your ear. 

He waited until your sobs had died down, waited for those little hiccups to still. Then he pulled away from you and looked down at you. You tilted your head down, eyes focusing on the moth brooch Regis had given him. You always admired the pin. It was so beautiful, and it perfectly fit Dettlaff. 

But the higher vampire wanted to be able to see your eyes. His hands wrapped around your hips and he lifted you up onto the counter. Then he settled between your thighs. 

He was silent at first, carefully brushing stray tears from your cheeks and swiping your hair out of your eyes. 

“What makes you think you are too big?” He softly asked. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a shaky deep breath in. 

“I-I can’t fit my red dress anymore. The one that you like so much. I can’t even get it over my hips, Dettlaff.” You cried quietly, shaking your head. “That’s your favorite dress, and-and I used to think it looked so good on me and fit me so well, but now-now I can’t even get it on!”

“Oh, my dear.” He cupped your face with one large hand, brushing his thumb along the apple of your cheek. “It’s just a dress. We can have it tailored to fit you now. There is plenty of time before the celebration to have it fixed. All is not lost.”

“That’s- Dettlaff, that’s not the point.” You breathed out. ��I’ve gotten fat and I’m ugly.”

The look that crossed his face made your stomach churn. He was heartbroken. How could you believe you were ugly? To him, you were the most beautiful being he’d ever set eyes on. A masterpiece crafted by the gods. It hurt him to know that you thought so poorly of yourself.

“My darling, your beauty isn’t measured by your weight.”

“How can you think I’m not some fucking cow, Dettlaff?” You didn’t mean to raise your voice at him. You were just frustrated. Was he lying to you? He had to be. 

“I happen to think you are perfect.” He whispered, unable to speak much louder. “Yes, you’ve gained weight but you are healthy. You are well. You aren’t any less beautiful because of it.”

His hands found your thighs, fingers curling gently in as if to grip you tight. 

“You are absolutely stunning, Y/N. You are an angelic being built perfectly for me.” He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead. “Your thighs, my gods.” He paused for a moment, inhaling deeply. He rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into him. 

“There is no feeling I enjoy more in this world than when your thighs are wrapped tightly around me.”

You smiled just a little, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks. 

“And your hips, they fit perfectly in my hands.”

“It’s cause you’ve got big hands.” You muttered, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You opened your eyes as he pulled away from you. You met his warm gaze. He wore a little smile of his own. 

“Perhaps I have big hands so that I could properly hold you.” He thought out loud. “Perhaps, when the gods were creating me, they had you in mind as my mate. Have you ever thought of that?”

Your lips parted with the thought. What if that was true? It made you warm and tingly to think that he was made specifically for you. 

“There is no part of you that I will ever not love with all I have, my dear.” Dettlaff assured you, leaning down to gently kiss your lips. “And it just breaks my heart to know you think so lowly of yourself. You are beautiful and nearly every time I lay eyes on you, you steal my breath away.”

“Dettlaff.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “Stop it.”

“Not until you believe me.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to the edge of the counter. “Now, while you wait for your tea to heat up, let me read to you.”

Before you could object, Dettlaff picked you up and took you over to his chair.

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @awkward-turtles-world @fl0ating

[maxbegone]

IT’S FINALLY HERE!

In an effort to spread some love to the fanfic authors in the Schitt’s Creek community, this post is a compiling of some of our favorite fics! Thank you to every single person who decided to participate in this dedication of love! And to the fanfic authors out there - thank you for being so wonderful and sharing your stories with us! Here’s to many more countless hours of reading - day or night! 

There are repeats! I understand that may seem a little redundant, but I wanted everyone who participated to share their favorite fics regardless of repetition, author, pairing, AU, size, etcetera. 

A very special thanks to everyone who participated! 

@bestwisheswarmestregards // @brighter-than-sunshine  // @danieljradcliffe @darnitdraco  // @imargaery  // @justwaiting23  // @leopxld-fitz // @lickrustdavid // @loveburnsbrighter // @oceanavinfinity @poorguysheadcanon​ // @ratchet // @roguebabyinyourstore @stuck-on-your-heart // @thisbuildinghasfeelings​ // @vulcantastic​ @wlwbaudelaire​

I’m going to go ahead and put everything under the cut, because this should be quite a long post! 

**If there are authors on tumblr whose handles were not properly added, please send me a message!

@bestwisheswarmestregards​

Fic 1: Ace Of Hearts by loveisallyouneed21

Why I like it: It is just really sweet and made me really happy. Plus I like seeing Patrick as an asexual being one myself. I don’t see a lot of ace characters in the media so seeing someone portray Patrick, a character I love, as one makes me really happy. 

Fic 2: An Unexpected Arrival by @justwaiting23​ 

Why I like it: It was one of the first fics I read in this fandom and I fell in love with it. Plus the Brewers are in it and I love anything with the Brewers. 

Fic 3: Hammock by @maxbegone​ 

Why I like it: This fic makes me so fluffy inside. Early morning and snuggles are one of the best combinations. 

@brighter-than-sunshine​

Fic 1: Your Wings Prepare To Fly by @icmezzo 

Why I like it: I’m not the biggest fans of AUs/ Fantasy takes on fics, but the characterization of David and Patrick is so good here. It’s such a beautifully written fic, and I just couldn’t get enough of it when I first read it! A definite reread.

Fic 2: Today and All the Days that Follow by @unfolded73​

Why I like it: This one is one of my all-time favorites, because it explores so many of the relationships between all the characters… I especially love the bits including Stevie and Alexis. 

Fic 3: Little Reminders of our Love by @justwaiting23​

Why I like it: The whole idea of David and Patrick leaving each other notes was too adorable not to recommend this fic!

@danieljradcliffe​

Fic 1: Watching Through Windows by @helvetica-upstart​

Why I like it: Some fandoms have those fics that just inevitably change the game and define what fanfiction can be and for me, this is that fic for Schitt's Creek. It is a staple that everyone's read and continues to talk about and recommend a year after it was published; I'm sure we will continue to talk about it for years to come and to recommend it as new folks come into the fandom.

Fic 2: Until Now Gives Way to Then by swat117 

Why I like it: I just read this one-shot recently thanks to your (feel free to edit this how you need for your post) recommendation of their other fic, 'Exposed Brick.' This is a fic that (for me) completely captures why David and Patrick fit and work so well together and how their pasts have made it possible for them to be who they are as a couple in SC. I haven't read another fic that resonated with my own interpretation and appreciation of their relationship as much as this one. This author truly and completely sees them for all that they are.

Fic 3:  Red White and Blue Jays by @grapehyasynth​  

Why I like it: I saw this fic published earlier this year and wanted to read it so badly but figured I should read the source material (Red, White, & Royal Blue) first so I did and absolutely fell in love with that book (who wouldn't?). I attribute this fic for inspiring me to read Casey McQuiston's book and so when I went to finally read it, I had extremely high expectations and even still, this fic exceeded them. The author does an amazing job of incorporating aspects of the original book (RWRB) while keeping the story true to the characters and relationships we know and love in Schitt's Creek. I read the entire fic in one sitting and then instantly, read it again. It is laugh out loud funny while being romantic as hell and keeps David and Patrick incredibly in-character throughout.

@darnitdraco​

Fic 1: Red White And Blue Jays by @grapehyasynth​

Why I like it: this fic is the reason I bought Red White and Royal Blue. Going into the fic, I didn’t know what the book was about so it was all new to me but it was great nevertheless. Now that im almost finished with the book, I love this fic even more. I know its an AU but I think the characters are written well and I pretty much love any fic when Rachel isn’t made out to be the bad guy. Its 13 chapters and I will 100% be rereading it after I finish the book. 

Fic 2: Nothing Burns Like The Cold by @wildxwired​

Why I like it: This is a one shot and definitely Patrick Centric. I thrive on Angst and Hurt/Comfort. I personally feel like it is Patrick coming to terms with a things he didn’t have control over and him getting closure on things of the past. I don’t want to give away too much of the plot but please read this guys!! 

Fic 3: sometimes good things fall apart by @blueink3 

Why I like it: I have reread this multiple times and it gets better each time. Its only 4 chapters but it isn’t rushed. As I said above, I THRIVE on angst and hurt/comfort. This has both, AND protective Patrick. It is a spin on what could’ve happened after the barbecue and it has a happy ending so don’t worry.

@imargaery​

Fic 1: Dodgeball is f*cking stupid by alldaydream

Why I like it: This is a one-chapter piece that comes in just under 6k and yet the author manages to build a super rich AU experience and tell a complete story that is at once heart-wrenching, sweet, sexy, and thematic. If you want angst that doesn’t last too long, that leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy, this is the one-shot for you. I go back to it as much as I go back to some of my favorite D&P scenes from the show.

Fic 2: if not for you by goingmywaydoll

Why I like it: When it comes to fanfiction about our boys, there’s almost nothing I love more than a high school AU. This is that. But it’s also a ROAD TRIP. What better scenario is there for a slow burn, mutual pining, dialogue heavy love story with plenty of bed sharing and nobody bothering them?

Fic 3: Beneath the Winter Snow by Distractivate

Why I like it: Can you tell I love a good AU? This one’s about the Olympics and it imagines a world in which Patrick and David have already fallen in love, had a relationship, and have broken up. This is a story about them finding their way back to each other--which isn’t hard because they have to be around each other all the time and work through their issues. It’s written with grace and thoughtfulness, and walking with Patrick and David as they learn to communicate with one another and work on healing makes the reunion that much more satisfying.

@justwaiting23​

Fic 1: hit me with your best shot by @ignisgayentia​

Why I like it: This is a bit of a random one but it has stuck with me ever since I read it. It’s a short little AU about David and Patrick meeting at a baseball game where Patrick is one of the players. It’s really sweet and does such a great job of keeping the voices in character, especially with the flirty teasing and awkwardness and is one of those fics I go back to over and over again.

Fic 2: Spills & Thrills by storieswelove

Why I like it: This is one in a series of ‘Meet-Uglies’ that the author has written which I adore but it’s my favourite one out of them. It has the perfect mix of awkward interactions which make you cringe and also really sweet and fond moments between the two of them.

Fic 3: You Can Plan on Me by odofidi

Why I like it: This is a sweet little piece of marital fluff about the first Christmas after the wedding. It fits exactly with my idea about what married life would be like for them and is really sweet, plus I always love it when the Brewers are able to see Patrick so genuinely in love with someone like that so it’s definitely one of my very favourites.

@leopxld-fitz​

Fic 1: best wishes, warmest regards (sent with confetti effect) by reymonova (costiellie)

Why I like it: This fic is just pure fun. The character voices are always perfect, and it’s such a nice addition to the series. This story is full of incredible one-liners and I think about “th*nk y*u” at least once a week. A must-read for anyone who loves a good Stevie-David friendship moment. 

Fic 2: Going Down by @concannonfodder​

Why I like it: This is a perfect AU. Rich David? Check. New York? Check. Patrick’s gay awakening? Check, check, check. This fic feels as real and in-character as any canon events of the show, and the author does an incredible job at lining up a love story for the ages all over again under completely different pretenses. Plus, who doesn’t love a “stuck in an elevator” trope? I would watch 10 movies based off of this.

Fic 3: I’ve Never Liked A Smile As Much As I Like Yours by hagface

Why you like it: I live for college AU’s, and this one doesn’t disappoint. I love how the author repositioned characters and events for a new setting, and David as a picky art major is all I ever could have hoped for. Character interactions are pitch perfect and there’s a true “paint me like one of your french girls” pining moment that was truly glorious. A great read!!

@lickrustdavid​

Fic 1: Tonight I’ll Drift in A Dream With You by torakowalski 

Why I like it: It’s rare to find such a well-written fic with a great family dynamic that makes you feel like you’re almost just reading a script for the actual show instead of an idea. There’s something soft and comforting about reading cohabitation with Alexis and David and Patrick doing there own things on separate sides of the motel room. 

Fic 2: A Week with the Brewers by @justwaiting23​ 

Why I like it: The dynamic with David and the Brewer’s is genuinely authentic and it’s made me flash back to some of my own experiences with partners parents. The fact that Patrick’s totally willing to have sex while his parents are there while David is mortified at the idea is also great and realistic. I feel like this fic also shows how partners grow and learn to communicate with one another and trust them. 

Fic 3: Welcome to Cabaret by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

Why you like it: The concept of David being more included in the whole Cabaret experience was something I definitely appreciated, since during the show I was kind of bummed with the lack of him. Stevie is wonderfully written in my opinion, and I really liked Patrick going on dates with the choreographer and watching David figure out how to cope. 

@loveburnsbrighter​

Fic 1: Small Projects by GCLane

Why I like it: My ultimate comfort fic.  Soft relationship feels and loving, passionate discussion of fiber arts, plus nuanced discussion of coming out and fitting in and what it means to be queer.  Also David trying new things and doing his best, which is also fun (he learns to knit!)

Fic 2: You and Me and This Temptation by @leupagus​

Why I like it: Another comfort fic!  Musician Patrick/manager David.  It's funny asf and super sweet at the same time.  Plus it does justice by Rachel, and made me totally love her.  Also, I was never sold on AUs of any kind and this is the fic that converted me.  I re-read it when I need cheering up and it never fails.

Fic 3: The Moment I Touched Down by rockinhamburger

Why you like it: Patrick learning about David's past and being the sweetest most sympathetic bean :(. This one is full of tragic backstory and good emotional hurt/comfort.  Super cathartic to read, and it makes me want to wrap David and Patrick both in big hugs and protect them from the world.

@maxbegone​

Fic 1: my heart was broke, my head was sore by @blueink3

Why I like it: This was the first fic I read since coming into the fandom. It’s canon-divergent, which, as it turns out, I kind of love. It’s so beautifully-written; a story about David meeting the Brewers much sooner than he anticipated, under unforeseen circumstances that take Patrick back to his hometown - and David is right along with him. And just like in every universe, Marcy Brewer is an angel.

Fic 2: Cleanser by @cypress-tree​

Why I like it: Hello and welcome to my comfort fic! This is just the most soothing story. It’s my wind-down fic, and every single time I read it, it makes me want to do my own in-depth skincare routine (that I already do morning and night). But it’s not just about that - it’s about Patrick taking a look at his identity as well. It’s all so tender and sweet, and so intimate in its own lovely way. David pampers Patrick a little bit and shows him that “femininity” and “masculinity” do not have rigid divides. And the first time I read this, I was wearing a mask from LUSH.

Fic 3: keep my spirit strong, you do by fishypots

Why you like it: Content warning; eating disorders, food issues. This hit me square in the chest. It resonated with me in a way I knew it would but struck so much more within me. By the end of it, I was smiling because of how represented I felt. I know this is a difficult topic for some, but I needed to share this fic. As someone with dysmorphia and struggles with disordered eating, it was such a comfort to read about David, who is a character so vulnerable and his partner who doesn’t pester him with questions. Instead he listens, he does a little research (it’s Patrick, of course he does), and remains by him. It’s all written so realistically and tenderly, and without any jabs or awkward nods toward body image. This will forever be at the top of my list.

@oceanavinfinity​

Fic 1: I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You by ladyflowdi, ships_to_sail

Why I like it: It is a work-in-progress au set in Paris during WWII. Patrick is a soldier on leave, and David is a gallerist who sailed to France to help Alexis (as usual). The characters are so, so true to canon, and the world building of Paris in that era will whisk you away from your current place. I love it.

@poorguysheadcanon​

Fic 1: bright lights by falconeggs (series)

Why I like it: my favorite schitts creek fic is definitely the series “bright lights” on ao3!

@ratchet​

Fic 1: In the Temple of Artemis by MoreHuman 

Why I like it: This story has Stevie exploring (with some help) the identifier of Aromantic after navigating what she thought were her romantic feelings for David. Really sensitively written, with a scene that almost perfectly puts into words my feelings about David & Stevie’s soulmate-esque relationship.

Fic 2: David Rose, Your Husband Is At Guest Services by @patricksdavid​ 

Why I like it: Husbands! At Costco! Giant muffins and comically large bags of doritos! 2071 words of pure domestic fluff! What more could you ask for?!

Fic 3: Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman 

Why I like it: Okay so. This is very new as part of the Reel Fic Fest, but I needed to include it. I love Wild, both the book & movie, and I am very much a “deal with my problems by hiking/biking in the forest” so this spoke to me immediately. Patrick and David meet as strangers hiking 1500 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail. There’s nature, pining in nature, tent shenanigans, tent emergencies! Stevie being an excellent friend from afar, a cribbage board, journaling, secret trail register entries, David in flannel, and an ever-present toque. It’s just a really satisfying and calming 30k words with literally 2 characters. I read it twice in 12 hours.

@roguebabyinyourstore​

Fic 1: Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman 

Why I like it:​ I like a good AU as much as the next person, but this one is just STUNNING. The descriptions of the pain and struggle endured by both men, both physical and emotional, was vibrantly visceral. David and Patrick’s relationship bloomed organically and you are hooked on their journey through the wilderness as they grow closer and eventually fall in love. Plus it’s Patrick’s POV. What’s not to love?

Fic 2: Getting Over Getting Older All The Time by Distractivate  

Why I like it:​ You’ve heard of slow burn? Well meet glacial burn. This masterpiece takes us through 10 years of friendship, of missed opportunities, of pining and heartbreak. But most importantly it shows what we all knew - David and Patrick will find their way to each other regardless of time and distance. Also Patrick’s POV, I sort of love Patrick Brewer.

Fic 3: You Could Be The One by bigficenergy 

Why I like it: ​I have a soft spot for early relationship David and Patrick. But almost no fic does it quite like this. This fic highlights points from our boys’ developing relationship scored by the incomparable Carly Rae Jepsen. This fic is so true to the characters, their voices and their story, that it’s all one giant headcanon for me. This fic is part 1 of a larger series and I highly recommend all of them.

@stuck-on-your-heart​

Fic 1: a kiss from a rose by mihaly ( @davidroseshusband​ )

Why I like it: This was the first multi-chapter fic I read when I joined the sc fandom, and I hadn’t read fic of any kind in over a year. It’s a brilliant story where Alexis stars in a reality-dating show. All the characters are portrayed so perfectly in this fic, and you can hear their voices in every piece of dialogue. It’s sweet, it’s hot, it’s everything you could want in an AU. This story helped me fall in love with fic again so it has a very special place in my heart. 

Fic 2: Rose’s Eleven by leupagus

Why I love it: This story honestly feels like a movie. I know the concept is based on a film franchise, but the writing in this fic is truly exquisite. It’s so complex and gripping, and there’s a heist which is always a good time. Despite the very different world these characters are in, they are still true to themselves, so it’s very exciting to see how they interact with one another in this universe. This is such a fun read from start to finish and just thinking about it makes me want to go back and read it again.

Fic 3: Simply the Vest by orphan_account

Why I love it: If you couldn’t tell, I’m obsessed with AUs. This fic is such a satisfying AU because it incorporates several tropes that we all know and love. In this story, Patrick is an FBI agent, and he has to go undercover as David’s boyfriend. So right off the bat there’s fake dating! And then it has pining because our boys are dumb! AND THEN it has a little smut if that’s your cup of tea. And while all this is happening, Patrick is being capable and looks very dashing in his FBI vest.

@thisbuildinghasfeelings​

Fic 1: Happy to help by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

Why I like it: This was the first Schitt’s Creek fic I fell in love with when I started exploring what was out there after bingeing the show for the first time. It’s basically a deep dive into Patrick’s POV from Motel Review through Grad Night. It really helped me appreciate Patrick as a character when I was fairly new to the show. I think I formed a lot of head canon regarding Patrick’s life and backstory based on the things I enjoyed in this fic. And it’s just incredibly well written.

Fic 2: turn down the lights, turn down the bed by @hudders-and-hiddles​ ( @wild-aloof-rebel​ )

Why I like it: I love this take on David and Patrick remaining just business partners until Rock On. I can be a bit of a canon purist, so I’m really picky when it comes to AU fic. However, there are actually quite a few I enjoy in this fandom. My favorite thing about this one is that it has the exact right amount of angst, to the point where it’s almost physically painful, but in the best possible way. Especially because you know how it’s going to end. This is angst with a happy ending executed perfectly. And it’s so good that it holds up to multiple rereads.

Fic 3: my heart was broke, my head was sore by blueink3

Why I like it: Another canon divergent AU that I love. This one diverges from canon after Grad Night, at which point Patrick has to go home for a family emergency and David goes with him. What I really love about it is how it puts Patrick in a position to be truly vulnerable and gives David the opportunity to kind of be the strong one and really take care of Patrick. This is something we don’t get to see to this extent in canon until maybe Meet the Parents, so it’s nice seeing it here so early in their relationship. Also, it’s just so beautifully written.

@vulcantastic​

Fic 1: no other version of me i would rather be tonight by wardo_wedidit

Why I like it: I’ve always enjoyed the concept of love languages, and it was so sweet watching David do so much for Patrick to show he loves him. Of course, it stems from fear and anxiety that David isn’t doing enough for Patrick (especially with Alexis egging him on), which reads very realistically to me. I think we as the audience tend to forget that David  has never had anything like this before, has never experienced the love of someone like Patrick. He’s still learning how to accept that love and return it, in his own unique ways. This fic does a great job of examining that.

Fic 2: Exposed Brick by swat117

Why I like it: To me this is the perfect “Patrick and David visit New York” fic. Patrick is characterized so beautifully here; we not only see how he aims to please throughout his relationship with David but in his interactions with Rachel and his family as well. I imagine there was a lot left unsaid on the show regarding Patrick’s uneasiness about moving to New York and David’s ultimate decision to stay with him in Schitt’s Creek--this is explored wonderfully here. Plus, as a new New Yorker, it was really nice to read about all the iconic places in and around Manhattan.

Fic 3: we’ll take the world together by sonlali

Why I like it: I am a sucker for stories that examine David and Alexis’ relationship before the start of the show. This fic in particular is heart-wrenching, touching on the trauma both siblings likely experienced before we as viewers knew them. I love the idea of David as protector of his younger sister, and to see that sentiment returned by Alexis now that they have grown (physically and emotionally) while living in Schitt’s Creek is beautiful to read.

@wlwbaudelaire​

Fic 1: you’re my peace and my quiet by chocobos

Why I like it: This fic is just so soft and sweet and always puts me in a good mood whenever I reread it. It’s wonderfully written and I can truly see this as an actual scene in the show. 

Fic 2: Terrified But The Truth is This by ryry_peaches ( @loveburnsbrighter​ )

Why I like it: As someone who’s had a headcanon that David is autistic since I started watching the show, this was the first fic I saw pertaining to it. I was happy to see how well it was portrayed, especially giving how poorly I’ve seen fics portray autism in other fandoms, and it even made me see the episode “Girls' Night” in a completely different light. 

Fic 3: Putting Down Roots by @this-is-not-nothing���

Why I like it: Absolute domestic fluff is my jam and this fic delivers it and then some. It gives me everything I could want in a post-canon fic where David and Patrick are happily married and living in their cottage.

Again, thank you to everyone who made this post possible! I am so happy we were able to spread some love and cheer to the fic writers of this community! Sending so much love to each and every one of you, and I’m hoping this provides some new material for the community to discover as well! 

[savnofilter]

TW: MENTIONS OF DISCOURSE, GR//MING, P/D/PHILIA, ASS//LT, C//NSENT, D//RK CONTENT.

- this isnt under a read more because i want people to read this, but please read past this/tread carefully if you cannot handle such topics. this is not meant to be interacted with.

I'm not sure how to really go about this. I've been overthinking if I should address this and bring up some stuff while I've been gone, so sorry the absence. I deleted the tumblr app a few days ago and I downloaded it again today so i could post this. I really don't like making posts like this because it cuts the vibe that I've been trying to portray that everything is okay and it makes me feel really disconnected to you guys. I am sorry for the abrupt absence and cutting off any source of communication between us. I knew if I left any form of direct line of talk to me that I would receive hate and I just mentally decided that I cant sit through being harassed right now.

Have you guys ever paid attention to the same people who always have a statement to say or is always in discourse? It's very telling how everyone can post about me, but I shouldnt dare post about them. I'm tired of not being able to post about what I want without people vague posting about me, bringing me up every time they start another discourse with another writer or directly talking about me. My days on here are starting to feel the same. Its good then it goes bad. Good goes bad and bad goes good. It's not even tiring, annoying, or angering -- its repetitive. When I'm not saying anything people create fake stories about me, and when i speak about it im the one starting discourse. Don't get me wrong, I'm nowhere near perfect and I have made my own mistakes. But why the fuck am I always being told to be the mature one, why am I the one who should've done better, why do you people expect so much from me. It's the fact people are always quick to say, "no one cares about you, youre fishing for attention" when they're the ones who vague and interact with me while ive been minding my business for months now. Hm. The fact people have me proudly blocked but still harass me anyways shows a lot about themselves than it does for me. How its such an issue that im a minor until it comes to demonizing, tearing down my character, gaslighting, lying and bullying. I'm a literal example of how their friend group manipulates their followers and exiles people from fandoms for not kissing their ass. except now its in your face.

Consider this my last post about this discourse. I'm not going to waste my time on people who fail to digest other peoples thoughts and opinions time and time again because theyre weak narcissists. If I so choose to decide to shit post my opinions or argue with someone, none of you should be aggravated or moved by it because youre not even supposed to be on my page. If its not something serious i will not be wasting energy that i can be using to build on myself as a growing person than on miserable old ladies that have to use fanfiction to have excitement in their pity, depressing and lackluster lives. If people so do choose to create stories or vague about me, I do not care. So I ask respectfully to people who do lurk on my page to not attempt to message, post or vague about me please. This includes sending anons to yourself to make shit happen.

Past that, something got me thinking. My (older) friend had showed me screenshots of adult writers (no one i have spoken to) that were very excited to write underaged reader with adult characters. There are other instances where writers (that you have probably read from) on here openly made reader underage while aging characters up as adults/with adults. There are many more but there's really no point in listing them nor do I really care. But least to say, the same people who are gung-ho over these pedophilic themes/stories are the same people who support predatory people.

I've been thinking about whether or not i should continue writing for the students anymore. Granted, I still think they're attractive because one snap of the fingers cant stop that. I had been teetering on this thought for awhile because of how borderline pedophilic the people are here towards my age group. I enjoy writing but not to the point of willingly being in a straight line of sight where people who are well over 16 are harassing me and lurking on my page, especially to other minors solely because they are my friends. Backtracking to the statement before, I honestly dont know if I will either stop writing or just for the students as a whole. It shows that clearly some people are using their attraction to teens with the excuse that the characters are fake. The rapid normalization on dark problematic "kinks" is disgusting and vile, and the fact that its discourse now to shame said interests is appalling. Concluding that combined with my experiences here, i feel unsafe.

***(TRIGGER WARNING)*** I dont talk about my personal life on here that much cause I dont see the need too nor do i think its anyone's business. Paired with the fact that the people i have trusted personal information with have used it against me, I will be preventing myself from opening that door. Besides that for now, I have sparsely shared I've been assaulted before. This is my first time really opening up about this and i kind of find it necessary now. Coming from someone who has been a victim of assault and CP by people my age and well over, writing nsfw has been the only way where I could feel comfortable with sex in general. I won't get into details because mentioning this is triggering already and can make people uncomfortable. It feels like anywhere I go, I'm constantly putting myself in a position to be abused. The same people who told me I didn't have to worry about my age and be judged for it, exposed the minimum comfort of keeping myself private online to demonize, judge and hurt me. People call me "extra" for being distraught about my face and age being posted because they think im trying to be sneaky which isn't the case. Its the principle that they KNEW I wasnt ready to share said things, and coming from someone who is inherently a private and closed person, she knew damn well what she was doing when posting screenshots of me on Tumblr. There is no excuse for it. The same writers who write dub/non-con can BARELY understand basic consent and its fucking terrifying. This site was the only other place I could cope without being criticized. To see people who some i was close to proudly lie on my name, (adults) say that i sent them pornographic content without their consent is so very hurtful. To watch people supposedly be victims and then use their own trauma to invalidate my own was so fucking humiliating, disgusting and nerve wracking. Although I knew I made the terrible decision to interact with stories, I have never initiated any NSFW discussion with anyone in DMs unless they did it with me first and a few times -- and trust me raise your hand I'll show you the proof. I was sure that everyone I talked to regularly knew that I was a minor, and to my general consensus, people were under the impression I was 15/16 (which I was and am).***

Whether it be victim blaming from the grooming discourse, I've been met with racism, harassment towards my friends, people wanting me to harm myself and be assaulted. I fear what will happen when i will turn 18, if the harassment will escalate and what not. A big part of me is that I'm still here anyways because it pisses people off and I don't care when I receive hate. I can take it but I don't want it. A good conscious of me knows that I should be doing what's best for me but at the end I'm still attached to my ego-self with the added fact that I sincerely enjoy interacting with my followers and posting stories.

I just don't know how the options look. I'll probably be updating my blog rules as of right now. I've been writing more sfw lately because of this and it'd be nice if you guys supported those until I properly decide. I still have plenty of requests of a bunch of characters (mostly Bakugo and Dabi) and original stuff (all sfw & nsfw) that I really wanna share with you guys. But I just ask that what I do modify that you will respect it like you would to any other writer on here.

Stay safe, keep your mask on, and thank you.

[sarah-writes-marvel]

Patchwork: Avengers x gn!Reader

S.S: Hey! Ive been pumping out stories today so I hope whoever reads them are enjoing them! Im not sure how I feel about this one... it was kind of just thrown together so please let me know what you think about it!!

The only refernce that may not be GN is Bucky’s nickname ‘Doll’, hope thats ok!

Warnings: blood, mentions of surgery, wounds, passing out.... idk what else... 

Word Count: 1849

MASTERLIST

============================================

I stumbled into the opened gate of the quinjet, falling to the ground, rolling over just in time to put a bullet through the head of the last Hydra agent that had been chasing me through the foliage.

“Jarvis, close the gate.” I command, letting my head fall back against the metal flooring. The ache and exhaustion taking over.

“Gate is closed Miss. Should I pilot home?” 

“Just give me a second and I'll be up to the seat. Gotta catch my breath.” I closed my eyes trying to keep my head from spinning, taking in deep breaths.

After a few minutes I moved to sit up only to feel a sharp pain shoot through my middle. I thud back down, my hand moved to the affected area feeling the sticky substance that coated my suit around the open gash traveling from my stomach to my ribcage.

“Oh ya, some bastard tried to filet me. Forgot about that.” My head lulled back, realizing that I’d have to do some patch work on the ride home just so I didn't lose more blood than I already had. “Hey Jarvis, can you take the wheel and get to the compound asap.”

“Of course.” With that the quinjet roared to life and jerked into motion.

I carefully rolled over, using my elbows to prop me up as I moved slower than a sloth to my feet. Managing to use the walls of the jet for support I made my way to the medical cabinets, taking out one of the various first aid kits, hydrogen peroxide and a few towels. I opened the cherry red box pulling out the sterile packaging containing a needle with medical thread connected to it and plenty of gauze and bandages. I grabbed the pair of scissors carefully gliding them through the fabric of my suit to get to the gash.

I grabbed the bottle of peroxide and haphazardly poured it over the gash soaking my skin. The stinging sensation was overwhelming, causing me to stop and lean against the table to regain some stability. The blood mixed with the hydrogen peroxide as it bubbled with in the wound, stinging sensations tickling the area.

“Alright, uh, if I pass out call Tony or set off the sprinkler or something.”

“The quinn jet doesn't have sprinklers.”

“Well damn. Nevermind then.” I look down at the sterile needle and thread that were encased in the package. “Here goes nothing.”

Getting stitches was never a problem for me. It didn't bother me at all, however I have never given myself stitches nor done it without any numbing medication. My heart was racing and the cut throbbed with each shaking breath I took.

“I suggest you sit on the medical table so that if you faint, you'll have less chance you'll injure yourself more.” Jarvis' voice breaks through my nervousness.

“That's probably a good idea.” I nodded taking a deep breath as I hopped onto the table. My shaking hands moved back to their previous position and pierced through the tender skin. 

“Urhg! Son of a bitch!” I cursed, letting out a guttural cry, tears stinging my eyes. I pierced through the other side of the wound letting out the same guttural cry as I tied and pulled the stitch tight. I continued with another two stitches before Jarvis interrupted my panicked concentration. 

“Mr. Stark and few of the Avengers are wishing to be patched through.” the A.I.’s voice broke through the overwhelming pain coming over my senses.

“Seriously right now?” I sniffed looking to the ceiling of the jet, holding the curved needle as still as possible, each movement tugging at the skin I had just pulled through. “Fine patch them through.”

“Hey Kiddo! Saw you were heading back. How’d things go?” Tony’s voice asked through the sound systems of the jet.

“Oh  you know…. Fine.” I replied hesitantly as I positioned the needle to pull another stitch through. I bite my cheek trying to keep down the pained yelp as I pull the needle through.

“Glad to hear it! I assume you got all the files and information needed.” Steve inquired.

“Ya, ya got it all.” I could tell that my voice was shaky as I began to pull another stitch through. I let out a shaky breath as I tied the knot, taking a moment to regain my fading consciousness.

“You gonna need any medical care when you get home?” Bruce questioned.

“Uhm, ya, ya probably.” I replied pulling another stitch through, letting out a small pained cry as it tugged at the sensitive skin.

“How bad is it?” Bucky’s baritone voice reverberated against the jet walls.

“I’ve got no clue what you're talking about.”

“Y/N.” Bucky’s voice was stern, a no-no-joke- voice. “Tell the truth. How bad is it?”

“Uh Jarvis?” I asked, pulling another stitch through the skin, biting my lip to hold in the cry.

“Agent L/N has sustained a few minor injuries, however, managed to be on the receiving end of a knife. They enduring a severe cut along her abdomen reaching from their navel to the bottom two ribs. No internal damage, however the wound is bleeding profusely.” Jarvis read off my injuries.

“Why wasnt that the first thing out of your mouth?” Tony yelled, concern laced in his voice.

“Cause I’m doing my best to take care of it right now.” I replied, allowing the pain of pulling the thread through the skin resonate in my voice.

“And how are you managing that?” Steve asked in his serious Captain tone.

“I’m stitching myself up.” I replied meekly “You know we should really put some morphine into these first aid kits.”

“You’re stitching yourself up?!” Bruce exclaimed “Just put pressure on your wound, stop the bleeding. We’ll stitch you up properly here!”

“Yes sir.” I replied by pulling another stitch through, moving a little faster, eliciting more pain. I let out another guttural cry.

“Jarvis, how far out are you?” Tony asked quickly.

“20 minutes sir.”

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked, obviously concerned.

“Peachy Keen” I snap trying to take a few deep breaths keeping my head from spinning. Closing my eyes had little to no effect in calming my spinning vision. “So uhm there is a slight chance someone will be picking me up from the floor when I get in.” I stated hoping that one of the Avengers heard.

“Do your best to stay awake. We don't want to risk anything.” Bruce pleaded.

“I'll try doc but right now it's not looking too good.” 

I continued to pull a few more stitches through, despite the protest from Bruce earlier. The pain rushing through my body, causing each and every sore area more pain.

“Jarvis, please tell me we’re close. I can't do any more.” I asked tiredly, the pain overwhelming my senses and darkness playing along my line of vision.

“Landing in 2 minutes.”

“Thank god.” I said moving from the table and standing, using the edge to balance as I waiver in my step. The wave of dizziness hit harder and the lightheadedness took over. My knees buckled as I held myself up against the metal table. The jerk of the jet landing caused me to stumble slightly and bump into the table, sending a wave of pain through my system.

Bucky and Steve were the ones to enter the craft quickly. Bucky was the first to get to me, Steve looking over his shoulder watching me. 

“Jeez Doll. You really got banged up.” His words were incoherent as I started to drift out of consciousness.

“Mhmmm.” I murmured, too tired to talk. My eyes closed for a millisecond.

“Hey stay awake. I know you're tired but you gotta stay awake.” Bucky squeezed his arm around me coaxing me awake.

“Sorry.” I mumbled “You're just so comfortable. And Hot. Im freezing”

“It's because you lost so much blood. And because of that I need you to stay awake so we can avoid you going into a coma.” He insisted as he pushed through the lab doors.

I felt the cool metal of another examination table underneath me and the lack of heat caused me to shudder. Tony’s blurry face came into my vision as he looked over me.

“You should really work on your stitch work.” He joked.

“Sorry, was too busy trying not to pass out in between pulling the needle through my skin.” I said back, trying to be more joking then a snapback.

“Fair enough. But I hate to break it to you that we're gonna have to take them out and redo them.”

“I figured. But can you hurry up. I'm starting to see the darkness and the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Don't go towards that. Its a lie.” He retorted as he moved into action, Bruce following in his footsteps.

The pressure of a IV being placed into my arm turned my attention to Bruce standing next to me, a grim look across his features. A bag of blood hung above me as it traveled through the tube into my veins.

The slight tug at my skin around the wound made my attention wander to see Tony cutting away the stitches that I had previously done. The sight made me nauseous and I turned my vision to the ceiling, focusing on the speckled design of the tiles. My vision blurring in and out, the noise of voices were muffled as tears slid down my face.

A cooling feeling drifted over my wound. I looked down to see perfect stitches and Tony spraying a white substance over the gash.

“What’s that?” I asked, my voice cracking as I watched the foam soak into my skin.

“It's a multipurpose antibiotic.” Bruce began.

“It’ll decrease infection and inflammation and increase healing!” Tony exclaimed, clearly proud about the invention. I just nodded my head as all the words jumbled together into an incoherent sentence.

“I think you're out of the red zone, so if you want to sleep you can. We’ll keep and eye on you.” Bruce spoke quietly.

“Can I be moved to a different bed, this one hurts.” I whispered as my eyelids feel weighed down.

“Ya, ya we can do that.” Bruce smiled gently. “Bucky do you mind carrying her into a different room?”

  I saw Bucky nod curtly and he gently slid his hands under my back and knees, picking me up from the metal table. Bruce followed close behind with the IV stand holding blood and medications.

Bucky gently placed me onto one of the sterile beds of the medbay, tucking a warm blanket around my chilled body. Bruce situated all the machines before leaving the room. Bucky had his hand intertwined with mine as I drifted to sleep, moving his thumb in a rhythmic pattern over my knuckles.

“Thank you Buck.” I whispered as I drifted off.

“Not a problem doll. Get some sleep, you deserve it.” with that I gave him a small smile as I dozed off to sleep.

===========================================

S.S: As always let me know what you think!! Thanks for reading!!

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Arthur denying his feelings for reader be like: plays Hercules (1997) - I Wont Say Im In Love

Anon, this one turned out so cute and fluffy, I’m literally on the verge of death!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Arthur’s leaning against a tree at the edge of Clemens Point, feeling like a lovestruck idiot. He’s been watching you for longer than he cares to admit. Despite being the newest member of the gang, you’ve continuously surprised him over the past few weeks. It was the obvious stuff at first, the way you wore your hair, the way you talked to people (especially him), how you treated your horse. Now it’s the small things he’s taken notice of. How you brush the hair from your face, how you like to watch the sunrise while drinking your morning coffee. 

He rubs his hand down his face, knowing he shouldn’t get involved with you. He’s a fool for falling for you in the first place. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, he thinks, but no one would want his affections. Besides, he’s had too many bad experiences with romantic relationships that it’s just easier to be alone. He’s still heartbroken about how things ended between him and Mary, and thoughts of Eliza and Isaac still torment him. The last thing he wants is to add you to his list. 

He crosses his arms, still leaning against the tree and watching you walk across the camp to go and feed the chickens. He watches them gather around your feet, pecking at the grass for the food you’re tossing down. He’s almost tempted to join your side, to look for any excuse to talk to you. You’ve become close friends after all, talking comes easy. But he’s decided to try and push you away, he can’t risk falling for you. Or at least falling for you more than he already has. 

“Hey ol’ man, grumpy Morgan!” Sean chuckles, coming towards him. He’s clearly on guard duty, the repeater in his hands. 

“What you want, boy?” Arthur says, clearing his throat and looking towards the lake, trying to look innocent. 

“Nothin’. Just wonderin’ when you’s gonna ask that girl out. Y’know, Karen was tellin’ me the other day how Y/N fancies you. It ain’t a secret you fancy her too. Why not just do everyone a favor, take her out?” 

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Arthur growls. “It ain’t like that between us.” 

“Oh I can see it all over your face, Morgan. You. Love. Her.” 

“You’re the world’s biggest fool, Sean. If you know what’s best for ya, you’ll shut your mouth.” 

“I knew it, I knew it!” Sean laughs. “Yer the most predictable person. Whenever someone says somethin’ about you that’s true, ya get all defensive and angry. Just do yerself a favor, take that girl out on the town. Hey, if ya need an excuse, I overheard her sayin’ she’s been missin’ the ‘forests of West Elizabeth’.” He makes air quotes. 

Before Arthur can snap at him again, he walks away, chuckling lightly. Arthur sighs and leans further against the tree. Sean’s definitely given him something to think about. The forests of West Elizabeth, he repeats silently. What exactly does that mean? He knows you come from out west and that you prefer it out there, much like himself. He’s never heard you talk about forests or anything like that. 

Against his better judgment, Arthur comes up with a plan and decides to bring it to you. Besides, he’d be lying if he didn’t want a reason to take you out somewhere alone. Not to try anything, of course, but he enjoys your company. There’s something about you that he finds addictive. 

He walks slowly up to you, wringing his hands a bit. He’s nervous that you’ll see right through him. When he gets close to you, still feeding the chickens, he notices something’s wrong. It’s your energy, you just seem down. Your shoulders sag, as though a weight presses down on you. He clears his throat, catching your attention. 

“You a’right?” he asks quietly. 

Your head snaps up and you look at him. Instantly, the sadness from your face flickers and is replaced by your soft smile. He can tell you’re faking it though. 

“Oh hi, Mr. Morgan. Yeah, I’m doing just fine. How are you?” 

“Just dandy. Hey listen, I was plannin’ on goin’ out huntin’, figured I could use a partner. You wanna come?” 

You pause for a moment. Arthur wants to take you hunting? Why? Sure, you’re familiar enough with a bow and a gun to use them, though the results aren’t always perfect. Maybe word’s gotten around camp that you were crying last night. You were just overwhelmed by everything and had to let it out. The mood still lingers. Arthur must be inviting you because he feels obligated to cheer you up. It doesn’t help you to feel better. It makes you feel like an even bigger burden since Arthur’s constantly bigger running jobs. Still, you have a hard time finding a reason to say no to him. 

“Sure, I’ll go hunting. I, uh, hope you don’t mind dragging me along.” 

Your choice of words catches him off guard. He’d heard nothing about you breaking down the night before but the dimness of your eyes and your words tells him how bad your state is. 

“Don’t mind at all. Would you wanna go now?” 

You look over at the setting sun. It’s nearly gone by this point. 

“Now?” you ask. “Wouldn’t it be better to go in the morning when it’s light?” 

He huffs a bit. “Well I suppose, if that’s what you want. Course I don’t mind spendin’ a night under the stars. But sure, we’ll leave in the morning.” 

You feel stupid all of a sudden. You’ve spent plenty of nights in the open, away from camp. It’s just harder to hunt at night. “Mr. Morgan, wait. Wait. I… Yes, we can leave now. I don’t know why I was being stupid.” 

He turns back around at your words. He smiles a bit. “Okay. I’ll uh meet ya by the horses. Five minutes?” 

You nod and finish feeding the chickens. You try clearing your head, especially the nasty thoughts swirling around. You don’t want to seem like a self-pitying fool around Arthur. You’ve been low-key flirting with him the past couple of weeks and he’s noticeably pulled away from you since. You didn’t want to give him another reason to run away. 

After gathering your things, you meet him by the horses and mount up. The two of you head out at a brisk trot. Arthur starts leading you north along the borders of Flat Iron Lake. You want to ask him where he’s thinking of hunting, but your current mood forces you to keep quiet. No one would want to hear you talk anyways. You start questioning why he even wanted to bring you out in the first place. The only thing you can come up with is that it’s because he’s a good man and he heard you were in need of a friendly face. It makes you feel like even more of a burden. 

On the northern side of Scarlett Meadows, Arthur pulls to a stop. The sun has set properly now and given way to a nearly full moon. He dismounts and the two of you set up camp. As you sit around the fire, waiting for your meat to finish cooking, he can tell by your eyes that you’re far away. He doubts you’re in a good place. It makes him want to put his arms around you and tell you all the things he feels about you, but he made a promise. He can’t tell you. 

“You uh want the tent tonight?” he asks. “I can sleep out here tonight.” 

“No, Mr. Morgan. It’s your tent, you should sleep in it.” 

He huffs and smiles a bit. “Ya can call me Arthur, miss. Ain’t exactly like we’re strangers.” 

You smile a bit. “Right, sorry.” 

He pulls the meat off the fire and gives you some to eat. When you’re done, he sits next to you. He feels like you just need a friend to help you out, yet he isn’t sure how to do it without admitting he’s got feelings for you. You yawn heavily. 

“You should get some sleep. I’ll stay up a bit, not quite tired yet.” 

Instead of agreeing and getting up to lie in your bedroll, you lean over and put your head on his shoulder. He stiffens up a bit at your touch but it’s such a welcome feeling, he can’t pull away. He realizes now that you, like everyone else in camp, have just been overworked and underappreciated in camp. This will be the best medicine for you, getting you away and just taking a break. He wonders again about the phrase “forests of West Elizabeth”. As he’s pondering, he’s also fighting with himself. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to wrap his arm around you or pull you in his lap and hold you against him and watch you sleep. He won’t do that though. He can’t do it. 

As he’s arguing with himself, he hears the softest snore come from you. He smiles when he realizes you’ve passed out on his shoulder. He gently picks you up and places you into hsi bedroll in the tent. He covers you with his blanket and then he sits back down by the fire. He smiles a little as he thinks about what could be between you if he were dumb enough to take that chance. 

***********************************************

In the morning, he notices you seem a little happier, a little more like yourself. Like you’ve finally been able to relax a bit and get a good sleep for the first time in days. You talk a bit more, yet he can tell you’re choosing your words carefully, which is unlike you. One of the things he admires about you is that you say what you think, even if it’s brutal. He knows he can trust what you say. 

You expect him to take you somewhere like the outskirts of Emerald Ranch where game is plentiful. Instead, he keeps leading you west, across the wide mouth of the Dakota River and into West Elizabeth. Seeing the tall pines and green grasses lifts your spirits greatly and you feel like you can take your first proper breath in weeks. 

Arthur can see the visible change in you, how your eyes begin to light up again. You smile more easily and start talking more. He notices you even make some of your light jokes. He’s always liked your jokes, cheesy as some of them are. You’ve got a natural sense of humor he finds endearing. He thinks to take you to Big Valley, but something tells him it’s not enough. He needs to take a bigger risk with you. 

After arriving at Lake Owanjilla, he pauses. He knows where he wants to take you, but it’s incredibly dangerous. Not because the land but because of where it lies. He just hopes that no one will see the pair of you and if they do, they won’t connect the dots. 

“Come on, we’re almost there,” he says and he kicks his horse into an easy trot. You follow him across the dam, down the trail and over the river. You wonder what he’s up to as you enter Tall Trees. You know the risks of going anywhere this close to Blackwater. Word is bounty hunters and Pinkertons have gathered here like flies to a rotting corpse. You want to tell him it’d be wiser to go back, but something tells you to not question him. That he knows what he’s doing. 

After a while longer, Arthur slows his horse down. You’re in the thick of Tall Trees, the pines growing high above your heads. The world has turned from green to red with speckles of blue and purple. You’ve always loved Tall Trees, the tall red pines and the green ferns growing between them. The smell is indescribable, addictive. Somewhere hidden in the trees, a squirrel begins to bark. 

Arthur looks back at you and grins. You don’t see him as you’re busy gazing at the trees. He can tell that this was exactly what you needed, despite the obvious dangers. He keeps leading you down the trail until the trees break and give way to a small lake nestled in the bowl of the mountains. This is where he finally stops and dismounts. You do as well, though you’re still staring around like a complete moron. You finally turn to him and give him a genuine smile, which makes his knees feel weak. 

“Arthur, this is beautiful. But… what are we doing here?” 

He shrugs his shoulders. “Just seemed like this would be a good place to come and… fish.” 

“Fish?” you giggle. “You came here to fish?” 

“Sure, why not? Hear there’s a real nice bass livin’ in this lake. Figure if anyone’s gonna catch him, might as well be me.” 

“Not if I catch him first!” you shoot and run towards the water. He calls to you and chases after you, the two of you laughing madly. You reach a broken pier first and pull out your rod. “Beat you, Arthur!” 

“Oh trust me, sweetheart, runnin’ ain’t fishin’. We’ll see in the end who’s the real winner.” 

The two of you cast out and slowly pull your lures back. With the sun beating down and the wind carrying the intoxicating smell of the forest, you couldn’t be happier. You can practically feel the black cloud that’s been hovering over you getting drawn out, like venom from a snake. 

Arthur’s line gets tugged hard and he yanks back his pole, setting the hook. “Ooh I got somethin’.” 

“Well pull it in, quick!” 

You watch him fight with the fish and then he pulls out a beautifully colored bass. You laugh and pat his shoulder. 

“He’s a beauty! Good catch, Arthur. Guess you won this round.” 

He chuckles and wraps the fish up before putting it into his satchel. “Yeah, guess I did.” 

For the next hour, the two of you fish a little more, bringing out multiple trout and bass. Then, just when you think the two of you might be able to get away with staying here for a long while, you hear, echoing across the water, voices. It sounds like a small group of men. Your heart drops at the thought of bounty hunters. There’s no doubt in your mind they might be scouring Tall Trees. It’s the perfect place for a gang to hide, after all. 

“Think we’ve outstayed our welcome,” Arthur says and collapses his pole. You do the same and then you both swiftly remount your horses and run off from the lake, avoiding the path. Over the next half hour, you dodge between trees and carefully navigate around the steep drops of the mountain until you hit the trail right above Owanjilla. There, you make your way across the river and into safe lands again. Arthur leads you over to the north end of the lake where he finally dismounts. 

“Well that was a fine outing, Mr. Morgan,” you say, patting your horse’s neck from the ground. 

“Sure. Well, figure we can hunt here the next couple of days. Know there’s plenty of game in Big Valley.” 

You nod and smile at him. “Yeah. But tell me: did you really take me there for a fish?” 

He blushes a bit and hides his head beneath his hat. “Well… well no. I known the fish was there a long time, but I didn’t go for it. I just thought you could use the fresh air.” 

This makes you laugh. “Arthur, I can get fresh air in plenty of places that have fewer risks.” 

He blushes more. “I know. But… well, I won’t lie to ya. I figured the place could do you some good. Heard you were tellin’ Karen you missed it and you seemed down the last couple of days. Just thought I might be able to help.” 

You smile at him, your eyes glittering. “Thank you, Arthur. You’ve no idea how much it helped.” You lean up and place a soft kiss to his cheek. He grins, his cheek burning. You look away and say you’re going to go and hunt. He lies by saying he’s going to try and fish a bit more. 

When you’re out of sight, Arthur sits down on a boulder. “What is the matter with me? Ya think a miserable outlaw like myself would learn. Morgan, you have the world’s best record of bein’ the biggest fool.” 

He sits there for some time, arguing with himself. He can’t love you, but he can’t help being in love. A voice in his head asks what’s the worst that could happen by just letting himself feel what he’s already feeling for you. He argues back by using Mary and Eliza as examples. 

“But she isn’t Eliza or Mary,” the voice says. “She’s Y/N and in completely different circumstances than they were. She knows how to protect herself, she’s been robbed and shot at before and came out alive in all those situations.”

“No no no,” he says. “She’ll come to realize I’m a fool like Mary did. I’ll mess things up and she’ll hate me for it.” 

“She already knows you’re a fool. She’s seen your crazy side, she knows how scary you can get. More than once, in fact, and she’s still around isn’t she? Mary saw that side one time and she ran off running. Y/N’s different. Never once has she asked you to change or to control yourself.” 

“It’s a dumb move!” Arthur says. “I ain’t in love with her nor am I ever gonna be in love with her! She deserves someone better.” 

The voice is a bit quieter this time. “It seems like it’s too late for her. You saw the way she looked at you in Tall Trees. She’s already got it for you.” 

“Well, she’s a bigger fool than I thought for doin’ that.” 

“No doubt. But if you leave her like this, she’s not going to wait around forever. She doesn’t deserve that either.” 

Arthur sighs. He knows you don’t deserve him playing you the way he’s been lately. “Well fine,” he says to the voice in his head. “I love her. I love Y/N, but I ain’t sayin’ it out loud.” 

********************************************

Night has fallen and you and Arthur are sat around the campfire again, nestled in Big Valley. You’re leaning your head against his shoulder once more like you did the night before. Arthur’s arguing with himself again. He knows he loves you but he’s still unsure if he should act on it. To act on it would be to admit it. 

“Arthur?” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you again for today. I… can I tell you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“I’ve been real sad lately. Don’t know why, but my brain keeps telling me I’m a burden on everyone, I’m merely tolerated. But going back to that lake helped me feel centered again. Like going home. I know that doesn’t make any sense.” 

He smiles a bit. “No it makes perfect sense. And for the record: you ain’t a burden or tolerated. People in camp like you, darlin’. You should hear Jack tell his mama about your stories. Sounds like you been helpin’ Mary-Beth too. And you were the first person to get Karen to stop drinkin’ the other day. Can’t tell you how long we been tryin’ to help her quit.” 

“Really?” you ask, looking up at him. “And… and what about you? I know you only took me out today because you heard I needed a pick-me-up.” 

“No, no that ain’t the reason,” he says. “I didn’t know you needed help until we were away from camp. Like I said, you ain’t a burden. You work hard, I see that in camp. Work as hard as anyone else and eight times as much as Uncle.” 

You giggle a bit.

“Point is, me and everyone else who counts sees how much you work in camp. We notice. I know we don’t voice our appreciations, especially ol’ Grimshaw, but it doesn’t mean we don’t see it.” 

You surprise him by grabbing the hand on his knee and squeezing it lightly. He knows at this moment he can’t hold back any longer. He withdraws his hand and your heart sinks. You’ve crossed a line. You’re about to pull away from his shoulder until you feel him shifting himself and his hand winds over your hip. He pulls you into his lap and you settle your head on his chest. 

Arthur’s heart pounds hard in your ears. He’s wanted to do this for so long with you, imagined doing this. He’s held women like this to him before so he knows what it feels like, but this is different. You’re different. You fit against him like a puzzle piece, perfectly molded to him. You’re warm and it feels so good the way you wrap your arms around him. He kisses your hairline and settles his chin to your forehead. 

After a few moments, he feels you place a soft kiss to his chest. It makes him smile and he holds you tighter. 

“Arthur?” you say, looking up at him.

“Hmm?” 

“I think I love you,” you say quietly. He swallows heavily. “Well I hope so. Because… I know I love you.” 

[vanityloves]

Storm and ivy + medic

@septemberlove i have. no excuse for how late these are but uh. thank you for sending these in 💕.

[word count: 1.8k+ with the longest 'authors note' bc im mentally ill]

sfw, mmm comfy cozy, general sick hcs,

storm - what are cozy days in with your f/o like?

Whenever I think of cozy days, my brain immediately goes to rainy/chilly weather where we can cuddle up together and my brain short fuses. I'm gonna assume this is just like a day off or something though!

How I visual them together vs how I write them is odd because they technically don't act or accept they're 'together' until after the comics but I always write them like they're in a Steady Relationship while on base. I'm always writing a slight AU if you will. Or maybe it's after they get their jobs back at Mann co - I should highkey adjust that but No ♥️. No more thinking, just content based off my idealized universe.

There's definitely a point in their relationship where it's like 'I think I have to put in a little more work here'. I'm not saying either party is slacking but they're slacking ♥️. Neither of them really take action. Chef doesn't blame him or really complain about it because that's their nature, plus they don't know how romantic relationships really work or flow, especially with a person like him. Medic doesn't see an issue with anything and continues on with his normal business. 

What I mean by slacking is, there's not a lot of quality time being spent together which would be fine if it wasn't both of their strongest Love Languages, which could help them strengthen their relationship. It's odd because they're 'romantically involved' but they don't spend a lot of time together for either of them to consider it romantic, simply because it's on company time. 

ANYWAYS THATS JUST ME BEING CONVOLUTED. FEEL FREE TO JUST IGNORE ALL OF THIS.

Medic goes to bed pretty late and wakes up at a fairly early hour. Chef is a late sleeper and forced to be an early riser because their Actual Job is to make at least 2 or 3 meals a day (if they want something else, they're on their own but hate when anyone messes up the kitchen and will honestly, stand there and watch said person).

There's minimal time they can spend together if they want to do their own activities - for Medic, it's tinkering around with organs or in Engie's garage, for Chef, they're typically meal prepping or trying to tend to an animal or plant of some sort.

Medic is actually more direct about wanting attention and it's never been a problem because he's cautious about it. Chef is more emotionally inclined and willing to drop hints that they want more attention. 

Chef probably has one day off where it's a complete free for all, for the rest of the team, which would be the perfect time to spend with Medic - If he wanted to stop working, that is. Just don't picture it but, Chef will literally sit in the medbay for hours just to be near the guy, but it isn't bad? The drone of machinery or the scratching of his pen is relaxing, or having his doves nearby is always sweet! Plus, he's prone to talking their ear off when he finds something interesting, so they'll chime in and have some back and forth.

But, yknow - sometimes having someone's undivided attention is nice and Chef is pretty dense when it comes to that and wonders why they feel so upset.

They swallow their pride and ask Medic if they sleep in his room one night and Medic's not as dense as Chef, he understands that they'd never ask for something so out of the blue for no reason and he promises to finish up his work early so they could head to bed together. Chef had nothing planned, they literally just needed that affection and closeness - since it was their day off Medic takes the hint and puts his work aside for the time being.

They'd probably sleep in and stay in bed a while longer before getting ready together - no uniform required. Chef isn't so talkative in the mornings, Medic's noticed, but they were happily fiddling with his buttons and tie, humming in thought before answering his questions. Medic's seen them out of uniform of course, but it's always funny seeing them in just a button up and jeans like … mom on the go vibes. Medic leaves his coat behind before making his way to the kitchen with Chef. 

The kitchen usually has a couple people loitering around, grabbing their coffee or honestly, waiting around for Chef because they always make extra and these bitches are lazy. But the kitchen has now become A Medic Supremacy Zone and he has first dibs - the benefits of being w/ Chef I guess. The two would work as if the others weren't there, keeping their conversation between each other even if that means Medic tilting his head down while Chef leans in closer to reply. There's a high possibility the other have left them to their own devices, seeing as the couple was ignoring them / knows they won't be getting anything. Breakfast isn't extraordinary but it feels special since they actually get to sit across each other and share the morning today.

It's possible that they'd go out and run some errands today, but it's a cover to window shop and walk around. I'll be honest, they probably haven't had proper dates so it's refreshing. You could ask Chef what they liked the most and they're just like :] Yes. 

Other times, they like to curl up and catch up with some reading (well, Medic at least) while Chef rests against him and skim over the words. They're not too invested in what he's reading but likes to have some idea of what he's talking about so they don't ask too many questions. (Very 'these words are big and english/german is not my first language + I can't read as fast as you can so I got lost 7 pages ago). Medic likes to watch Chef garden and tries to help them tend to whatever they're able to grow in the goddamn desert. He overwaters a cactus and looks away if it dies. Chef talks ab how they're growing mint and how it really took off while Medic's standing there like :] Oh, lets make tea with that. Because they're Old People (read: Medic is old)

🕊🐁

ivy - how do you take care of each other when you’re sick?

Chef is easier to take care of when they're sick. They continue working until they're pretty beat but once they feel sick and a break doesn't work, they'll try to finish up what they can before turning in early. They see themselves to bed and inform whoever's near that they won't ne there at dinner and if they really cant figure it out, then come get them - other than that, they're barricading themselves in their room.

When they're sick they're REALLY sick but recovery time is usually a few days (depending on how bad it is). They basically hibernate and don't like being disturbed. They're used to not fending for themselves since they've been on their own for a while but really appreciate all the check ins Medic does w/ them, especially when they're all better. 

Medic, being...their Medic, he definitely gives them a check up when they first begin showing symptoms and he can be a stickler when it comes to drinking fluids and eating properly. Chef usually has a  finicky stomach as it is so Medic really urges them to drink soups and easy foods like bread and crackers. He checks in on them A LOT, even if that's just peeking in to see if they're asleep or not. He backs off when Chef gives him a cold stare from under the covers and minimizes his intrusions/tries to be more sneaky about it. He has colder hands and they let out a sigh when he puts his hand to their cheek or forehead to check their temperature. 

Chef doesn't hesitate to take any medication he has for them, mostly bc they aren't fully coherent but they also don't have energy to care, in fact they have the thought that if he accidentally kills them, maybe respawn will cure them. Unfortunately, Medic debunks this before they can even muster up the energy to ask.

Overall 7.5/10, very good patient. Will refuse to get up and accidently falls asleep in the shower which scares the shit out of him.

Medic on the other hand is very stubborn and doesn't like to stop working unless there's something that physically stops him (ex: vomiting, serious injuries [unlikely bc medigun], etc). If he tricked the Devil, surely the man can beat the common cold or flu! Unfortunately he gets those full body shivers and feels terrible. He can be pretty dramatic when he's sick and everyone's subjected to his bad attitude. 

It's Chefs turn to play doctor - they can tell by looks alone that he's under the weather. His face is flushed and he's a bit sloppily put together, which isn't *too uncommon* but his tie isn't tied and his glasses lamely slide down his nose. They tsk a bit while taking his temperature just to keep track of it before ushering him to his room.

He can be dragged to bed if persistent enough. Chef's firm hold on his arm is enough for him to get off his chair and have them tug him along. He doesn't have any room to argue with them as they look up at him, so he relents, stating that a short break would definitely do him good, but he'll be up and at em by tomorrow. 

Chef is doting and becomes a bit of a helicopter parent when checking on him. This mostly consists of peeking their head in but not really stepping in the room. Every so often they'll wake him up to drink water and either hand him an ice pack or offer a cold towel and move to dab at his forehead and neck.

Medic hasn't been too keen on having others taking care of him bc that's HIS job, and he often tries to shoo Chef away by saying he's more than alright now. Sometimes he's caught sitting up in bed doing work or taking notes on something bc he's a bit restless when he's sick and stationary for too long.

But he's right. He's very good at taking care of himself - when Chef offers him food he'll force himself to eat some of it and he's drinks plenty of fluids without needing reminders. He kinda bosses Chef around, telling them to grab certain medications from the Medbay. They trust his judgment on his own health and bring him what he asks for but Chef keeps a mental note of what he takes and when. Don't need the doctor accidentally taking too many pills today!

Overall 6.5/10. It's hard to get him into bed and becomes restless fairly easily. He is persistent that he's ok after one day of rest only to be found sneezing himself away in the Medbay. 

[husky-boi]

It’s Always Been You ~ Chapter 2

Summary: Husk grew up with the casinos of Vegas, and made his living there. This is the story of how he found the joy in life, and a reminder that sometimes true love transcends worlds

Ship: Huskniss (Husk x Arackniss)

Ao3 Link - Chapter 1

-----------

Sometimes, a distance can grow between the two. 

---

It was a bit of a fight between the two, with Charles wanting to drink at the casino and Carlos wanting to go anywhere else. In the end, the short man's wish was fulfilled, and the two sat on stools a few buildings down, at a place that was strictly a bar. As promised, Charles has used the cash he'd won that night to pay for their drinks; bourbon whiskey for himself, and red wine for Carlos. Plus buying a round for the whole bar, which kept the bartender plenty occupied.

All the while, Carlos had been silent, staring at his drink as if he hadn't watched the bartender pour it even though no one's touched it since. This guy sure was quiet, huh? Charles elbowed the dark haired man, which resulted in a slight flinch and glare.

"I didn' invite you out for drinks just for you to take the money and /not/ have the chance to get to know ya. So why the long face?"

Carlos' resting bitch face faded into a look of... Curiosity? And directed at Charles as they properly made eye contact for the first time. He could already feel his heart jumping into his throat. Uh oh.

"You didn't cheat." The voice snapped Charles out of his thoughts, shaking his head slightly as he smirked just like he used to.

"'Course I didn't cheat, you thought I would?"

There wasn't an answer at first, and for a second Charles thought he wouldn't get one at all. But Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning back to sit straight, staring down to the counter.

"You didn't fuckin' cheat... But you win almost every game. That's not fucking possible."

"Ah, see you've heard of my reputation?"

Carlos blinked a few times before looking back to Charles, this time with more confusion than anything as he held out a hand.

"Lemme introduce myself properly... Carlos D'Amico. Heir to the business." Charles just about did a spit take with his drink, coughing for a few seconds before quickly reaching down to shake the hand, swearing he could feel static crossing between them. "I was... Sent. To check on you, and to kick you out at the first hint of weighted dice or cards in your sleeves. But you're just fucking good at the game... Gotta say, I'm impressed."

The son of the Rose D'Oro Casino's owner. Was fucking impressed with his skill in gambling. Had he not any dignity, Charles swore he would have passed out right then and there. Luckily, he managed to laugh it off instead, breaking the handshake to take a swig of his bottle. "Thanks, but if you're tryna butter me up for something, ain't gonna work. 'Fraid you're gonna have to try harder than that."

Carlos tilted his head a bit at the confidence and, damn him, he smiled. Just a small bit, but definitely noticeable when Charles was looking him up and down like a stack of chips. "Fair 'nough. But honestly, wasn' even supposed t'tell ya that much. In fact, probably'd get disowned for that if it got back around." He had to lean back Carlos leaned forward, clearly trying to bring their faces closer together. Charles was almost done with his bottle, and he hadn't had a drop.

"...did y'put somethin' in my drink?"

Carlos laughed at that, and Charles swore that there was a choir of angel's singing behind it. Was that the whiskey talking? Shit, he sure didn't feel buzzed enough for thoughts like this. He was practically still sober.

"Nah, probably'd get banned from the casino altogether for doin' somethin' like that... So you gonna tell how you're winnin' so much without stacking odds in your favor?"

Charles blinked at him a few times. Was this man really asking him for advice? It sure sounded like that, even though he knew in the back of his mind there was no way. Even still, he couldn't help but keep up the same asshole persona and shove a foot in his mouth.

"How 'bout we play a game of kiss and tell, huh?"

That was a fucking stupid thing to say, Charles knew it as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He was about to apologize and play it off like nothing but a joke, when he felt a hand grab his bowtie and lips crashing into his.

The kiss was messy, and chaotic, and Charles was pretty sure their teeth knocked into each others a few times, obvious neither of them were very experienced, if Carlos was at all. But when they finally pulled away, both of them were out of breath, and Charles was wondering how the other man looked so calm when he was pretty sure his face was melting.

"Kiss. Now tell."

Despite how serious that sounded, Carlos smiled, and Charles knew it was okay to laugh in response. "Would you believe dumb fucking luck? 'Cause that's all I've got to share."

It wasn't more than a second or two later that Charles felt himself being dragged by his arm off the stool and through the crowds, ending in the back of the club. Carlos handed off a hundred to some guards that opened a previously locked employees-only door, and Charles swore he died and went to heaven at the look that resulted once he was pulled inside.

"If you need more motivation, y'coulda just said so~."

---

Charles enjoyed every second of the next couple hours, and he loathed the fact that they had to leave eventually. If anyone noticed that the two had accidentally switched ties, or that the neatly combed hair was now far from such, no one commented. Then again, the guards were probably bribed not to notice as Carlos handed them another large bill on the way out.

Both of the two were silent walking through the crowded bar, finally making it out the front door. With Charles looking one way, towards his 'home', and Carlos looking towards the casino, it was obviously they had to go their seperate ways.

"...see you around, then."

Charles' head snapped towards Carlos, who had just started to walk off. Just walk off. After all of that?? He jumped in front of the other's path despite his best judgement.

"Hey- That. Was that. Just a one time thing, or...?"

Carlos always kept an unreadable expression in his eyes, but with a slightly shaking hand, the dark haired man reached into his back pocket, pulling out a die and tossing it in his hand. Not just any die, but...

Before Charles could process anything, Carlos took his hand and placed the hand-crafted rose die in it. The prized possession of the casino, their entire branding and iconic feature, in the palm of Charles' hand.

"Consider that a little collateral. As a promise, that I will see you again."

Charles was still too stunned to stop Carlos from running away towards the casino, leaving him with the small cube in his hand that left a similar pink shade to his face.

---

Charles was more than eager to return the next day, when he found posters with his face plastered over the door.

"Permanently Banned For: Cheating, Stealing, and Assault. If you spot him, alert a security guard and we will take care of it"

He read it once. Then twice. Charles read those words probably a dozen times before stumbling backwards, spotting one of the guards out of the corner of his eye and bolting away as fast as he could.

On the top floor of the tall casino, Carlos was watching out the window, feeling a hand with sharp nails dig into his shoulder.

"S'for the best, son. Can't have you gettin' attached in a business like ours."

Taglist: @purpletrash @silver-crowned-king @pretty-in-velvett @incorrect-hazbin-quotes @im-not-an-alcaholicokmolly @grape-scapegoat

Want to be added or removed? Shoot me an ask or dm!

[inkskinned]

literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips

source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole

just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names

talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-. 

if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.

physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.

nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you

about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound. 

this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!

no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.

you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.

if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.

college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff

oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest

i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.

if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.

white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)

steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush

write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall

DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.

like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.

PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.

also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.

you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.

watch kaplan nike just do it 

if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.

“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.

the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.

i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!

literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.

i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh

take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.

make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it 

the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression. 

if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost. 

don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out

don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed 

on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.

when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it

ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”

get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it

the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes

bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect

switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense

when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried

[frywen-babbles]

Sounds of Silence pt1

A/N: Modern AU with Mitsunari! This is loosely tied to Everything comes with a price, set over a year after it. Unlike before, there won’t be a set release schedule bc this fic isn’t completely finished yet. (I just need some validation and motivation oTL). A big thank you to @dear-mrs-otome for telling me this idea doesn’t completely suck <3

Also spoilers for Mitsunari’s route!

When he opened the door all he could do was stare.

Behind it stood a young woman. And not just any young woman but the one he had seen at the library countless times reading books to kids in sign language. The woman he secretly always hoped he’d see when he went to the library, whose smile he couldn’t stop thinking about.

***

At first, Mitsunari was annoyed by the voices coming somewhere out of sight. Libraries were supposed to be where you could study in peace, he had no idea what could cause such a ruckus.

The sound of laughter guided him to the children’s section of the library, but what he saw wasn’t what he expected.

A young woman was standing in front of a group of kids, a book open in front of her, animatedly reading the book in sign language. The kids were excited, laughing and giggling at the what he assumed were the exciting parts of the story.

Mitsunari felt enamoured, his annoyance long forgotten. He didn’t even realise he had stared until the story was over and all the kids were circling her, trying to talk to her all at once. Her smile brightened her face and she looked so natural and happy amongst the kids Mitsunari felt almost jealous.

Just then, she caught him staring. He felt his face heat up and he turned around sharply, stomping back to the table he had reserved for himself. He planted his face firmly on the book open in front of him.

Gods, that was embarrassing. Who goes around staring random women, when they were supposed to study. Ughh…

*****

He saw her walk towards the children's section from the corner of his eye and somehow his head turned to look after her. She stopped to wait for a boy in his teens to bounce all excited to her a book in his hands. They shared a greeting but Mitsunari couldn't follow the signs they spoke with. It didn't stop him from staring after them when they continued on their way towards the room where he had seen her read to the kids.  

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Mitsunari turned to look at Sakon who looked at him a wide smile on his face.

"Or are you too busy staring after women to tutor me?"

"If you have time to lazy around and comment on everything I do, you must be ready for a quiz about all the important battles post-Honno-ji?"

"Ack! No! Don't you have any mercy, we just went through them 30 minutes ago?"

"Then what are you doing fooling around, you incorrigible dimwit. Get back to studying."

"I'm sure no one would have made me work this hard in the Sengoku period..." Sakon mumbled with a sigh.

"What was that?"

"I'm studying!"

When he was finally free of Sakon, he made his way to the children's section. But it was quiet, the children long gone. He was just about to turn around when he noticed a schedule on the wall. She would be back in an hour.

He could wait for that long.

Wait, maybe he shouldn't? Would that be weird? But he really did want to see her read again.  

He didn't see her until he got up to get some coffee from a vending machine. She was sitting on the sofas next to it with the same boy as before, lost in an animated discussion he could only guess the topic off.

A part of him wanted to loiter so he could watch them talk, but the reasonable part of his brain forced him to return to his table.

As soon as he saw her followed by the silver-haired boy he stuffed his things to his bag and stood up to follow her. A group of excited kids were already waiting for her but he stayed behind until everyone had sat down. Then he stepped behind the parents by the door, his eyes following the movements of her hands taking in every sign.

Unlike before, this time when she was finished she kept glancing at the clock and hurried away as soon as possible, almost colliding with him. The silver-haired boy tried to stop her but after some hurried signs let her go. The look on the boys face looked a bit like a lost puppy and for some reason seeing her hurry away like that made Mitsunari feel a bit same.

He was brushing his teeth in the evening when he felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket.

[23:12:45] <<bookshy>> do u evr feel like ur stuck in ur life? [23:12:52] <<bookshy>> like u shld hve accomplishd so much mor in ur life tn u hve?

He stared at the screen for a while before he typed a reply. He didn't know who bookshy was, not really. They had been talking with each other for years, but always with nicknames, always through messages in the internet. It felt more comfortable that way somehow. Knowing there was always a person willing to listen to you without judging.

[23:13:05] <<ManjuDreamer>> Are you feeling like that right now? [23:13:07] <<bookshy>> ya [23:13:11] <<bookshy>> i dunno wht ill do w/ my life [23:13:19] <<bookshy>> i thght id do so mch more u know? [23:13:22] <<bookshy>> and now i jst feel liek im stuck nd see no way out [23:13:23] <<bookshy>> is ths my life now? [23:14:50] <<bookshy>> evry1 says i shld b happy w/ wht i hve [23:14:59] <<bookshy>> i hve so much im feeling ungrateful whn i feel like ths [24:15:46] <<ManjuDreamer>> You still have plenty of time to accomplish your dreams. It's not for others to decide when you can be happy. [23:16:02] <<bookshy>> guess ur rite

He heard a knock on the bathroom door and quickly finished brushing his teeth. When he opened the door Hideyoshi was standing behind it already in his pyjamas.

"I thought you'd never come out," he commented with a yawn and pushed past him to the bathroom.

"Good night," Mitsunari wished to the closed door before he retreated back to his room.

[23:18:30] <<bookshy>> how was ur day [23:18:49] <<bookshy>> i saw the prettiest person today like hot damn [23:19:13] <<ManjuDreamer>> I saw an interesting person today too, I wish I get to see them again. Other than that, it was mostly my student being an idiot, so nothing new. [23:19:53] <<ManjuDreamer>> I tried to do some research on a paper I'm writing, but it didn't progress much. I was just about to go to bed so I have energy to study more tomorrow. [23:19:56] <<bookshy>> srry to keep u up [23:19:57] <<bookshy>> night! [23:20:10] <<ManjuDreamer>> Night.

***

Mitsunari tossed the wig from his head frustrated, running his hand over his face. He glanced at the mirror of the bathroom, at the perfectly drawn eyeliner, the perfect shade of blush, the perfectly applied foundation. The perfect set of lies, painted on his face.

[13:33:14] <<ManjuDreamer>> I went to see my mother.

He hesitated a bit before he sent the message. It didn't take long for his phone to bling with a reply.

[13:34:29] <<bookshy>> how did it go? [13:34:48] <<ManjuDreamer>> As well as you would expect. [13:34:51] <<bookshy>> u wanna t alk about it?

His fingers ghosted over the screen of his phone before he put it down and looked at the mirror again. He reached for the makeup removal wipes from his bag and scrubbed furiously at his skin until the last remains of the makeup were gone.

[13:36:18] <<ManjuDreamer>> She's there but I feel like I'm losing her. [13:37:01] <<ManjuDreamer>> Every time I visit she seems further and further away. [13:37:15]<<ManjuDreamer>> Sometimes I wonder if the mother I used to know is there at all.

He started to type his next message, but stopped, gripping his phone tight in his hand.

[13:38:34] <<ManjuDreamer>> She's my mother, but it's so hard. [13:38:42] <<ManjuDreamer>> I don't know what to do.

He glanced at the mirror to make sure his eyes weren't red before he pulled his shirt over his head and replaced it with one from his bag.

[13:38:47] <<bookshy>> ur doing plenty already [13:38:49] <<bookshy>> u dont have to push urself so hard [13:38:50] <<bookshy>> im sure shed understand [13:38:59] <<ManjuDreamer>> But I'm all she has. [13:39:02] <<bookshy>> i know [13:39:06] <<bookshy>> but u hhave 2 thnk abt urself frst [13:39:15] <<bookshy>> if u feel its too much u can keep a brek. ur not prfect. u dnt have 2 b [13:39:50] <<bookshy>> im alws hr 2 tlk if u need me [13:40:20] <<ManjuDreamer>> Thank you. It means a lot.

He put his phone on the side of the sink and wiggled out of his skirt. He really should buy a new one next time he got paid for tutoring. The zipper didn't work properly anymore and the hem was starting to fray. He kicked the flats from his feet and looked at the kneehigh socks on his feet. They wouldn't be visible under his pants anyway so he let them be and took his pants and shoes from his bag before showing the skirt and shirt in their place. He considered showing the wig in after them but realised making the wig presentable after that would be too much of a hassle. So he gently combed the wig with his fingers to sort out biggest tangles and folded it neatly in a mesh bag. Flats into a plastic bag, then into the bag.

Like countless times before.

He got dressed and made one final glance at the mirror before he put the bag on his shoulder and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oh, Mitsunari! Here to see your mother?" a nurse greeted him when he tried to slip past the nurses' office without being noticed. What a nosy bunch of quidnuncs insistent of mothering him.

“Yes. I was just leaving.” He replied with a stiff bow.

“Come and have some tea with us! How did the test go you told me last time?” Another nurse poked her head from the office. Mitsunari resisted the urge to roll his eyes and offered another bow.

“I believe it went well. I still haven’t received the results.”

Half an hour later he was still stuck at the nurses' office surrounded by what felt like a flock of mother hens, all determined to squeeze every bit of information out of him they could. He was just getting up from his chair when a voice behind him froze him on the spot.

"Did my darling Saki leave already? She was just here... Such a dutiful daughter, coming to see her mother so often..."

His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the edge of the table, his head down. He wanted to turn around. He wanted to see his mother as himself. He wanted... needed to see if she'd recognise him this time.

"We saw her leave a while ago, Mrs Ishida. She's such a nice girl."

He heard a nurse walk his mother away and the sighs of relief from the remaining nurses.

"Are you alright, Mitsunari? You know we'll listen to you if you need to talk. Or we can help you find someone-"

"I need to go now. Goodbye," Mitsunari interrupted the nurse who had put her hand on his shoulder to calm him. He got up in such haste his chair fell to the floor with a rattle, but he just offered a quick bow before he fled the office.

He didn't stop until he arrived at the bus stop. There he sank on the bench, burying his face on his hands.

He took the bus to the library, staring idly out of the window.

[14:36:09] <<bookshy>> did u make it home [14:36:35] <<ManjuDreamer>> No. I'm heading to the library. The nurses got me again. [14:36:37] <<bookshy>> lol how did u mnage 2 escpe [18:36:56] <<ManjuDreamer>> Mother came to the office. [14:37:09] <<bookshy>> oh no [14:37:10] <<bookshy>> im so sorry [14:37:21] <<bookshy>> how r u feeling rn? [14:38:29] <<ManjuDreamer>> I don't know. I'll try to find some reading to distract myself with.

At the library, he searched for materials for his upcoming paper but when he sat down and tried to read, the words didn't make any sense.

When he had read the same page several times over and still remembered absolutely nothing he was interrupted from his reading by a book shoved on top of the one he was just reading.

"Can't you see I'm-!" the sharp words died on his lips when he saw the same woman who had read to the kids in front of him. She tapped on the note on top of the book and he looked down to read it.

'This is the book I was reading. You seemed interested'

She handed him a second book, a note on top of it too.

'I'll read this next'

When she shifted her weight from one foot to another clearly uncomfortable, he realised he was staring. He offered her a curt nod as a thank you and she bowed at him a small relieved smile on her lips. She seemed to hesitate before she signed something but he had to shake his head.

There was a slight shift on her smile, on her posture, and she took a step back.

'I'm sorry' she mouthed and offered him a bow before she all but fled, leaving him to sit alone, feeling like an idiot.

[16:19:20] <<ManjuDreamer>> I think I just made a complete fool out of myself. [16:29:59] <<bookshy>> lol rly? [16:30:00] <<bookshy>> wht did u do? [16:30:02] <<bookshy>> i thght fool wasnt in ur dicktionary [16:31:18] <<ManjuDreamer>> And for that terrible joke, I tell you nothing. [16:31:47] <<bookshy>> noooo hw wll i evr know how embarassng u can be if u don tell me? [16:32:32] <<ManjuDreamer>> You'll survive.

***

"She's not here today."

Mitsunari was startled from his thoughts by a familiar voice behind him. He turned around, vaguely aware of the frown his irritation had brought on his face.

"Who?" he asked as if he didn't know exactly who was the 'she' in question.

"I got this for you, I'm sure it holds some useful information." Mr Otani handed him a flyer for the children's activities in the local libraries. Mitsunari stared at the flyer blankly before he looked at Mr Otani, letting his irritation show.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?"

Mr Otani just smiled and pushed a book towards him as well.

"I'm sure you'll find this useful as well. Come find me if you need anything else."

Before he had time to protest Mr Otani left him with a wave, a wide smile on his face. He considered running or yelling after him, but changed his mind when he looked at the book in his hand.

'Sign language for beginners'

He tucked the children's program leaflet securely at the back of his calendar and checked the book out.

Something about the sign language intrigued him. She looked so graceful when signing. And so comfortable and she seemed genuinely love reading to the children.

At first, he thought he’d look up a few signs. Just in case some of the children needed help in the library. Just so he could talk to her. No, he meant the kids. So he could talk to the kids. But few turned into a few hundred. A few thousand. He was so lost.

***

[callboxkat]

Merry (part 3)

Author’s note: I finally have wifi, so I get to post the last part of this! I hope you guys like it.

Warnings: talk of poor family relationships, food mention

Word count: 1451

“Ready to go?” Patton asked brightly. He was standing on the doorstep of Logan’s apartment, wearing his favorite pale blue sweater and a hat with cat ears. Logan, standing before him, nodded.

“Certainly. Would you mind helping me carry out my bags?” he asked as he pulled on his own plain black coat.

“Not at all!”

Patton and Logan carried out the luggage together, loading it into Patton’s car.  This would be the second Christmas that Logan spent with his friend. When Patton had found out the year before that Logan wasn’t going to spend the holiday with his own family, he had invited him on the spot. Logan had been reluctant, but after Patton called his mom and made sure she was okay with it, he had relented.

Logan and his parents didn��t talk. He hadn’t even seen them since he’d left home at eighteen, and he had no plans to see them any time soon.

Patton’s family was much closer-knit. They actually liked being around each other, and they didn’t only get together for holidays out of a sense of obligation. The love they had for each other was clear to see. Logan couldn’t relate.

At first, partially due to his unfamiliarity with most of the family, he had felt rather out of place. Patton’s parents clearly hadn’t known how to act around him, especially since his presence wasn’t anticipated. They had also seemed a little off-put: Logan knew his mannerisms were a little odd, but he couldn’t help it. That was just how he was. Patton’s parents had soon figured this out, though, and things had gone well from there on. And Patton had been so overjoyed to have him there.

Logan had never really properly celebrated Christmas before, at least not in the way that many other families did. In the few days leading up to that Christmas, he and Patton’s family had partaken in a number of activities that Logan previously had thought only happened in sappy movies. They made Christmas cookies, put ornaments on the tree, watched Christmas movies, and even made a snowman in the yard. Logan remembered how Patton had started giggling uncontrollably when he put a business-like necktie on one of the gingerbread men they had decorated.

Logan had paused, the forgotten icing pipet still held aloft, and looked at his friend. “Did I do something incorrectly?”

“No—no no no,” Patton had giggled. “He’s perfect.”

“Oh,” he had said with a relieved smile.

“He looks just about ready to go to the gingerbread prom,” Patton’s mother had joked. “Why don’t you give him a suit jacket to go with the tie?”

Logan smiled at the memory, hefting his heavier suitcase into the car beside the lighter one that Patton had already deposited there. He removed the backpack from around his shoulders and added that as well. Even with Patton’s suitcases and the collection of stuffed animals his friend was bringing home, there was plenty of room remaining.

“I have one more thing to fetch if that is unobjectionable to you.”

“Sure, buddy,” Patton said. “I’ll start the car. Go ahead and make sure you’ve got everything while you’re inside.”

“Thank you.” Logan turned on his heel and walked back inside. He grabbed his phone off the desk, did a once over of the entire apartment, then grabbed a large box and headed back outside.

Patton turned around in his seat as he loaded it in the back of the car, trying to get a look. “Oh, what’s that?”

“I… um…” Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking into the open box. “I can’t help but feel indebted for your and your family’s kindness, both this holiday season and the last. So I purchased a few offerings to indicate my gratitude for that, as well as for your friendship.”

“You got us Christmas presents?!” Logan could hear the joy and surprise in Patton’s voice.

“Yes,” he confirmed, before shutting the trunk and joining Patton in the front seat, bringing a couple of books with him. It was nearly an eight-hour drive to Patton’s parents’ house, so he’d brought several novels in addition to his textbooks.

“That’s so sweet of you!” Patton beamed.

They were on the road. It was three-thirty in the afternoon, but by Logan’s calculations, it would likely be midnight before they arrived, accounting for breaks. Logan read for a while, bearing with Patton’s chattering at the same time. He had purposefully chosen books that he had read before for this precise reason. Occasionally he would chime in, nod, do something to indicate that he was paying attention. After a while, he got absorbed in his book, and Patton had turned on the radio, probably well aware that it wouldn’t disturb Logan when he was really immersed.

…

“Hey, Logan? Lo?”

Logan opened his eyes and blinked slowly. It had gotten too dark to read pretty early in the drive, so he’d put away the books. He hadn’t meant to actually fall asleep, though.

“Hm? Yes, I’m awake,” he responded, rubbing at his eye and sitting up straighter.

“Did you want to get dinner soon?”

Logan turned on his phone, the light illuminating the car. It was nearly seven at night. A decent hour to dine, as well as a fair time to switch drivers.

“Sure. Is there an exit coming up?”

“Yep. I was thinking we could just grab something and get back on the road.”

“That sounds acceptable,” he agreed, turning the phone off again. He rested his chin on his hand, looking out the window as they continued down the road.

They arrived at the gas station about ten minutes later. Patton agreed to refill the car while Logan picked out food. Patton had said he didn’t mind what Logan got him so long as itd took his vegetarianism into account, and of course, included a cookie.

Logan returned to the car with the bag of their food. Patton was just finishing up paying for the gasoline.

“Hi!” he chirped when he saw Logan.

“Hello,” he replied. “I got you a ‘veggie hummus wrap’—no carrots—and a double-chocolate-chip cookie.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Would you care to switch drivers? I can take over for the time being. I really only need you to navigate for the final hour or so.”

“If you don’t mind, sure,” Patton agreed.

The rest of the drive was rather uneventful. Patton dozed for most of the time Logan was at the wheel, so to him the time must have passed rather quickly. During the final hour, Patton insisted that they put on a radio station playing somewhat obnoxious Christmas music. It didn’t take long before Patton roped him into singing along, despite his perhaps slightly fallacious claims that he ‘did not like to sing’.

They pulled into the driveway of Patton’s house at 11:57 precisely. Patton assured Logan that they could unpack the car after they greeted his parents, who were bound to still be awake despite the hour.

Logan hovered behind his friend on the doorstep as he knocked on the door, right in the middle of the thick, green-and-red wreath that hung there. The entryway light flicked on, and then the door swung open. The smell of peppermint and the excited barking of Patton’s beloved golden retriever greeted them. Logan watched the cheerful reunion between Patton and his parents while the dog did her best to jump in the middle. He smiled at the sight, but then he was pulled into an unexpected hug.

Patton’s mom was hugging him.

Logan wasn’t sure what to do, so he just stood there until she let go. She didn’t seem offended by his lack of reciprocity, just smiling at him through a curtain of ginger curls.

“We’re so glad to have you both here for Christmas,” she said. “I’ll help you get your things inside.”

They had been delighted when they saw his box of gifts, and Patton’s father had admitted that they got him a present, too, having assumed that he would be joining them.

Twenty minutes and a quick cup of hot chocolate later, Logan was lying on the Foster family’s couch, looking up at the ceiling. The Christmas lights, which he had insisted could remain on, cast a kaleidoscope of colors above him.

Logan wasn’t home, this was still true. He didn’t really have a home, outside of his apartment at school. He hadn’t seen his parents in years. But he was here, with Patton, and he wouldn’t rather spend the holidays anywhere else.

Logan pulled the heavy fleece blanket up to his shoulders, turning onto his side. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Tag list: @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts  @lotusthatexists-festivestyle @quoth-the-sparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @heck-im-lost @gayfandomsaremything @bunny222 @syndianites @astraastro @momolinia @captainswan618 @hamilin-manuel-miranda @goldenkiddos @afilhadehades-blog @virgeofselfdestruction @theresneverenoughfandoms @iris-sanders-athena @super-magical-wizard @rainbow-sides @thefallendog @fanficptsd @zodiac-awesome @lookitsthatquietgirl @soft-boy-patton @nerd-in-space @pearls-of-patton @ab-artist @angered-turtle @im-so-infinitesimal @enby-kiddo-with-a-blog @raygelkitty @dr-gloom @whats-going-on-kiddos @spider-parker14 @oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall @fillyourteacup @kittiebrick

[oswald-privileges]

Loudmouth

(I wrote some statement fic. It’s been a heck of a while since I wrote anything for fandom.)

Statement of Ulla Ness, regarding, um... a peculiar transformation. Original statement given March 14th, 1999. Audio recording by Christopher Peake, in an… unprofessional capacity. Statement begins.

I still don’t see why I had to come to you. I know you have an email address, so wouldn’t it have been easier to just scan the form and send it to me? Hell, I would have taken a physical copy sent to me in the post. It would have been slower, but it would have meant I could have stayed at home. But no. I asked, and you just gave me a lot of waffle about how you have ‘strict acquisition policies’, alongside directions that had been copied from google maps. Which I know, because I checked.

It’s not that I’m lazy, you understand, far from it. I used to have what I regarded as quite the active social life. But recently that’s become impossible for me to maintain, for a number of reasons. Which are also the reasons that I’ve come to talk to you.

I used to be quite a religious person. Still am, I suppose. I’m not entirely sure. I was a member of the congregation of Saint Mary’s, a small anglican church in a small, anglican village up in Lincolnshire. Not everybody there was particularly devout, but it wasn’t one of those places where it especially mattered. It was more about the sense of community we had. Catching up with each other after communion on Thursdays, singing in the choir, arranging cake sales or coffee mornings as fundraisers for whatever bit of the building had fallen off now. I’ve been attending since I was little, and more or less grew up with the congregation.

I miss it quite badly, if I’m being honest. I’ve always been the sort to need other people, but I didn’t realise quite how much losing them would affect me. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone and all that, I suppose.

It started with another fundraiser, a jumble sale this time. I had volunteered to help manage the event, so I was in charge of sorting through the items that people had brought in for us to sell. Like I said, not everyone there was strictly devout, and didn’t always take care with what they decided to donate. Some people seemed to use it as more of an excuse to toss legitimate junk in our direction and call it a good deed.

This was definitely the case with Mister Ashley. He attended purely because his mother was too old to walk by herself, and I rather think that she insisted that he stay with her throughout the service. It was definitely at her behest that he took part in any communal activities. She would always announce that he would be happy to run stalls or make tea or some other menial duty, while he sat by her side, stony-faced, and saying nothing at all.

The only time I remember him giving any sort of reaction was when when his mother announced that her Jamie would be happy to donate some of his shop’s excess stock for the jumble sale. I remember, he turned to her with the strangest look on his face. At the time, I thought it was one of badly suppressed outrage. I assumed that she had simply gone a bit too far in volunteering his services; Mister Ashley was a second hand book seller, and owned the Jabberwock Bookshop just off from Memorial Square. It can’t have been all that easy to turn a profit. Thinking back on it now, though, and I wonder if his expression was something sharper than just anger. If it could have been alarmed, almost panicked. But I believe that is likely be nothing more than hindsight colouring my memories. If he had had some way of knowing, had been frightened of something like that which came to pass, then… well. I cannot honestly say I ever truly liked James Ashley, but neither can I believe that he would be as cruel or as cowardly as to not have said or done anything.

As it was, he brought the books to the side room the next day, where I was going through the donations and sorting the sellable items from those things too broken, torn, stained, or just plain unusable. I had just set aside yet another jigsaw- this one with almost two thirds of the pieces obviously missing- when he knocked on the outer door. In spite of the heavy rain, he wasn’t wearing a coat, hat, or boots. He didn’t say a word to me when I opened it, just shouldered his way in, dropped a heavy cardboard box on the floor by the unsorted donations, and walked out again. He did this three more times, leaving the door swinging behind him, letting in strong gusts of wind and rain, and reinscribing a damp trail of rainwater on the carpeted floor. Then he was gone as abruptly as he had arrived.

Ashley had taken better care to protect the books from the rain than himself. The cardboard was soaked through, but the books inside had been wrapped in several layers of plastic sheeting. They were stacked upright, and had been fitted in without any attempt to force too many into a single space. They were all, without exception, worn, faded, and almost completely without interest. Paperback romances long since out of print, old text books, children’s encyclopedias. It was rather a relief, if I’m honest. I could just reach into the boxes, grab a book, give it a flick through, and place it on the “for sale” pile.

I was about halfway through the last box when my fingers brushed something that did not feel at all like paper. It was dense and yielding, and ever so slightly damp. I recoiled, shock and disgust crawling their prickling way up my arm. My fingers looked clean, but the ghost feeling of something sticky still clung to them.

My first thought that it was some nasty practical joke. That Ashley, stung by his mother’s willingness to give away his stock, had put something disgusting in there by way of relieving his feelings. But that would have been ridiculous- he was a grown man, for goodness sakes, not a slighted child. It was more likely that the plastic keeping the books wrapped up had slipped, and allowed the rain to seep in through the sides. That was the more likely explanation.

It seemed as though I was right when I looked into the box properly, and saw nothing there but more books. But when I reached in again, all I felt was rough, dry paper. Confused, I went through the contents more slowly, looking where I placed my hand and at the books I chose.

I didn’t feel it again until the fifth book I picked up, that same almost-damp feeling. It was broad and set in landscape, almost like a sketchbook. It was dense with pages all jammed together- dense and heavy. It flopped bonelessly in my hand, and I needed to support it from underneath before I could read the title.

Hymnal, it read. The gold letters gleamed wetly on the slick cover.

It appeared to be full of sheet music. No titles or lyrics, just scratched staves and notes that meandered up and down the lines as though drunk. The smell that rose from the pages as I turned them was odd and unpleasant. I wondered if the leather binding them hadn’t been properly cured. Those areas of page that weren’t covered in music were full of sketches, but so dense and overlapping that I couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. And, I realised with an unpleasant start, the cover beneath my hands was warm, as though I was touching a live thing.

Suddenly, I’d had enough. I was sitting here, working myself up over an old, graffitied book for no good reason. I shut the thing hurriedly, and it snapped closed with a heavy slithering of pages. I caught the soft part of my forefinger on one of them, and a tiny bead of scarlet began to well from the wound. The stinging was welcome- it gave me something to focus on, mundane annoyance drowning out the confusion that had been threatening to become fear.

I dropped the book onto the discard pile. I couldn’t sell something like that, that much was obvious. Then I picked it up again, and dashed through the rain to the rubbish bins outside. I tossed it in, and followed it up with as much of the discard pile as I could bag up in one go, burying the thing underneath threadbare scarves, broken plastic dolls, and half used art supplies.

I felt a little better when it was done, but not much. Whatever those hymns were praising, I don’t think it was Our Lord.

The cut on my finger didn’t heal like it should. It stopped bleeding without any trouble, but the edges became raised, reddened and sensitive to the touch. I dabbed at it with antiseptic and did my best to put it out of my mind. I succeeded at first. I had plenty to keep me busy, both at church and at my workplace, and for a day or two, I completely forgot about it.

At least until it opened up again.

I don’t remember what caused it, or if anything caused it at all. Just that I was reaching for something, and there was the feeling of… unpeeling, almost, the cold feeling of fresh air on wet skin. I checked to see if the cut was bleeding again.

Instead of a cut, I found myself looking at a tiny, fully formed mouth.

The raised, reddened edges I had thought were a sign of infection had become minute lips. They were slightly parted, and behind them I could see the tiniest slivers of white. And behind that, a dark space where something wet shifted.

I didn’t look at it for long. Already I was reaching for the first aid kit, hastily covering the cut- the mouth- with a plaster. I was already convincing myself that what I’d just seen was some kind of infection I was too squeamish to look at, and that since I couldn’t feel any pain, I should probably go to the doctors, in case it was nerve damage or something. The impression of having seen a mouth rather than a cut was an unpleasant trick my mind had played on me, and one I didn’t feel like closely examining. I told myself I had imagined it.

I hadn’t, though. I could taste the soft fabric patch on the plaster.

I really did mean to go to the doctors. Mouth or no mouth, whatever was happening to the cut on my finger worried me. I even got as far as making an appointment. But the next day I went into work, and there was an accident involving a slippery patch of floor and a very, very sharp knife that I was carrying at the time. I ended up with a nasty slice parallel with the underside of my ribcage.

This time, it was obvious how quickly it stopped bleeding, how it was practically dry before I even changed the gauze once. How the scabs began to flake before I even touched them, leaving nothing but those raised, reddening edges around the cut itself.

I didn’t go to that doctor’s appointment. I don’t think it would have helped me if I had.

It took longer for the second cut to open, but when it did, I could stand in front of the mirror to properly see the flat, white, human teeth, and the tongue that moved behind them.

It didn’t feel alien. That’s what surprised me most. I was scared, of course I was scared, I was growing new bits, opening up in places that I shouldn’t- but that was just it. It was my body doing this, not some… weird infection or surgery. Whatever was happening, it felt like an extension of myself.

I could move them, I found. Not as consciously as I could my original mouth, the one in its proper position on my face, but sort of like moving a limb after it’s fallen asleep. It took concentration, like I was working through partial numbness. Like I needed to focus to wake them up.

I didn’t spend very long doing that, though. I would realise with a start that what I was doing wasn’t normal, it wasn’t sane. I would pull my shirt back down or re-plaster my finger with a feeling almost like shame. I wasn’t as scared as I should have been, and that in itself was somehow a lot more frightening.

I’m not clumsy. I can’t be, considering the sharp tools I have to handle at work. But I started to accumulate injuries. Innocuous things at first. Paper cuts from the prayer books during mass, scrapes from the edges of the metal benches at work. And then other things. Pushing down a door-handle would lay my palm open as though I’d been struck with a metal ruler. The pressure of my jacket across my shoulders would tear the skin. I woke in bed one morning to discover that the folded sheets around me had left cuts going from my hip to my collar bone.

Every single one of them bled, reddened, and opened.

The mouths started to become restless as their number grew. They tried to chew on the clothes I wore to cover them, and if I didn’t focus, they would let out soft, but audible moans or sighs. I tried to quiet them. I even tried feeding them, though I only did that once. It seemed to help, but the mangled sensation of swallowing with a throat that seemed to be lodged under my right kidney was so disorienting I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.

I hadn’t stopped going out altogether. I left the house less, certainly, but as uncertain and uncomfortable as my changing existence was, I didn’t want to give up the company of other people altogether. I get lonely easily.

So, one Friday, when when there was so little skin left under my clothes and gloves that no new mouths could easily form, I patched my face and neck with gauze, and went to take my place in the choir again.

Nobody really seemed to notice anything different about me. I had all the right stories lined up for when I was asked about what had happened to my face, but almost nobody did. A few condolences, a few jokes, and that was it. People apparently preferred to gossip about the death of Mrs Ashley, and how her James had stopped coming to church now, and how they had known his heart wasn’t in it all along.

It felt awful. There I was, standing in the middle of them, skin to skin almost, with the most fragile disguise imaginable hiding a secret that would ruin their perception of the world for good- and they were too wrapped up in their own smug assurance of their own piety to notice. I offered up a brief prayer for patience, but like all my prayers lately, I don’t think I was offering it to the God whose praises we’d all gathered to sing.

And when we raised our voices together for All Things Bright And Beautiful, and I opened my mouth to join in, and then opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again- I wasn’t singing praises to that God either.

I didn’t realise that the others had stopped at first. It wasn’t until I glanced to one side, and saw Julie Wright staring at me with her powerless mouth open and unmoving, that I realised I was singing in harmony with myself.

I broke off, suddenly embarrassed and frightened by the way that they were all looking at me. There was something like awe in their expressions, but there was something else there too. Something that shuddered and recoiled. I desperately tried to remember the words I’d been singing, if I had gotten them right. I had the horrible sense that I might have subverted something holy.

Adam Bromley was the one to break the silence.

“Well now. You never told us you were getting private training!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. The unexpressed disgust sank back beneath their faces, and the others took up the idea almost with relief. A beautiful voice, they told me, what trick did they teach me to make it resonate like that? I forced a smile and said something non-committal and when we took up the tune again, I was careful to sing only the words that were on the page in front of me.

My own relief was short-lived. When I got home, I found the skin I had left was being pulled apart by the restless movements of the mouths. Blood stained the underside of my shirt, and I couldn’t stop the moans and hissings any more than I could have controlled a spasm or a muscular tic.

I didn’t sleep that night, and called in sick to work the next day. I lay on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, trying very hard not to move.

It wasn’t any use. My skin had become so fragile that even getting up and walking to the kitchen caused it to split, the blood barely having time to dry before the wound began to twitch and whisper. All my fascination was gone now, as were all my attempts to ignore what was happening. All I did was lie on the bed, and let myself slowly drown in my own body. I lived like that for a week.

When next Friday evening came, my entire body burst into song.

I writhed and moaned and hummed without will, without choice, throwing out snatches of hymn before discarding them as not what I wanted, not right. And for the first time, the indistinct murmurs and whispers grew louder, began to form words. Prayers that had been chewed out of shape, pleas for more, more mouths, more brothers and sisters, to come out of hiding and join the great curdling of flesh.

This went on for the entire night.

That was when I decided that I needed to do something. I’d let… whatever this was go on for too long, long beyond the point of saving myself. But I wanted to tell someone first. So I dragged myself to my computer, and searched as best I could. It’s difficult to type with only a confusion of tongues.

And that’s where you came in. You aren’t special. You were just the closest place that didn’t either ignore my emails, or reply with not so gentle suggestions that I see a psychologist.

I don’t think I’ll be leaving my home again, once I get back. I doubt I’ll even bother uncovering, although there’s no-one there to see me. For all that I wanted to let someone know, I don’t want to be seen.

The cupboard below the stairs locks from the inside. I can push the key out from underneath the crack in the door.

Whatever is happening to me, I won’t allow it come to fruition.

Post-statement follow-up: There wasn’t anyone under the stairs when I went to check. The lock on cupboard door was broken, and so was the one on the back door. Either Ms Ness was, um… successful in her attempts to… halt her transformation, and a housebreaker with some seriously questionable motives took what was- what was left of her. Or she wasn’t. And her resolve either waned or the situation was, um. Taken out of her hands. Or. Whatever she had instead of hands.

I wasn’t… going to record this. It’s not my job, strictly speaking, but I was reading some of the old statements, and this one just… sort of caught my eye. And I’ve seen the Archivist and some of the others do recordings, and it just looked so… I wanted to try it out. I’ll be taking the tape with me, though. None of the others need to know about this.

[majesticmarais]

hello friends this is my usual blog diary entry because i literally ramble all the time and I ALREADY KNOW NO ONE IS GONNA READ THIS IN FULL AND NO ONE REALLY CARES BUT IM FUCKING WRITING IT ANYWAY SO SUCK IT :)

some of you on here are aware that I have 4 brothers, and today i am going to ramble/gush about one of them because i’ve just idk been feeling a lot of love lately.

This is my brother Evan

so last year, my family started fostering this boy. i have had plenty of foster siblings in my lifetime since it has always been something my parents had done since i was about 10, we had usually gotten younger kids with us, and not had them for very long before they went to someone in their family.

when i walked in one day to an almost 16 year old boy sitting on my couch, i was a lil shocked

my parents never let us read their files because we were always told that they’re not their file, and boy in this case was it ever true

all my parents told me and my other brothers was that he had been in and out of foster care pretty much his entire life, and that he had some “behavioral issues”, little did they know that he wasn’t the problem for those issues, it was the families he was placed with.

and i did not know how much this boy was going to change my fucking life in so many ways

at first he was really quiet, and it took a lot to get him to talk, and he preferred to stay alone and not have real conversations with us. i knew he was just adjusting so it was no big deal, i just wanted him to feel comfortable

one night Oli (my other brother) and i were having a movie night, so of course we asked Evan to join and watch the movie and he said yes. i did something really stupid and funny and made a dumb joke, and i heard this usually silent boy LAUGH, LIKE LITERALLY CACKLE

and he proceeded to tell me “i think that’s the hardest i’ve laughed in my entire life”

my heart fucking broke for real, but i was also happy i managed to get him laugh

he started opening up a bit more, and we spent a lot of time together, and he would come into my room some nights if he couldn’t sleep, and we would just talk, and it was just effortless as if i had known him forever, and we were related by blood

he told me his story from beginning to present and i held it together the entire time i was listening, and the second he left the room i just burst into tears because the amount that boy had been through was unfathomable to me, and i understood why he had so any problems in his life. the abuse he faced was more than anyone could ever imagine, write about, or make up.

as time passed he got more and more comfortable with us and i realized that this boy was a missing piece my entire life, and everything before him entering my life was just sort of waiting for him

i don’t know how to explain it, it just felt like he was meant to be with our family, and like he should have been all along

guys this boy is the strongest most compassionate person i’ve met in my entire life, and i don’t know how he made it through what he did and comes out so strong, and so amazing.

Evan is one of the best people i have ever come across, so down to earth, so level headed, so loving, so strong, and just every good quality in the book honestly

he stole my heart so quickly, and he’s never going to lose it

he was legally adopted recently, and i can’t express how much love i feel in my heart to know he’s with us forever, and i didn’t need a piece of paper to know he was my brother, or the same family lineage, because he is my brother in the same way as Oliver is, in the same way as Ryan is. 

and while he experiences all these new things with us, and has to meet distant family members for the first time, it just feels right, like a missing puzzle piece this whole time

Evan is the brother who stays up until 3am talking with me about anything and everything, he’s always up for everything, and gives me hugs and cuddles after a long day of school. he makes me food when i have late school days, and will just do little things for me all the time. we laugh constantly when we’re together, and there’s never a dull moment

idk if you’ve read this far then go on you i’m sure no one did though

anyway im just so grateful that he was placed with our family, and i really do feel like it was fate

evan is one of the best people in my life, and he always be. our bond is above and beyond blood, and it’s something so special that i can’t even express it properly even after all this typing

evan has made me see the world in a totally different way, every little moment and memory is held so tightly, and everything is so much brighter with him around, and i know every moment is precious

evan has taught me everything about strength, and overcoming hardships, even though mine will NEVER compare to what he went through, and most people will never go through the same thing, but he’s taught me that those moments don’t define you, nor do they control your life

evan coming into my life that day, was the start of something so great, and my heart has grown a million sizes since i first saw him that day, expecting it to be the usual scenario with foster siblings, not to have a brother who i feel connected with on such a deep level

I am so beyond proud of him every single day, and he brings so much light and love into my world, and I have never been so proud to call someone my brother

ANYWAY THAT’S ABOUT IT IF YOU READ THIS FAR YOU’RE THE BEST LOTS OF LOVE

[pearls-of-patton-moved]

Adronitis

Takes place in the Fata Organa AU.

Words: 1131

Pairing: Platonic analogical

The first tickle of his throat hits in the morning, and Logan worries for a moment before getting lost in his first class of the day. By lunchtime, he seems to be coughing a bit more than usual, but he’s already focused on a new research project he wants to start, and decides to skip lunch in favor of the library. It comes as a shocking realization to Logan, later that evening, when he glances up from the book he’s reading, to realize that he’s horribly cold and his head is pounding. Shocked at this sudden onset of illness, Logan quickly packs his things up and leaves the library, but by the time he’s reached the dorm, he barely has the energy left to set a water bottle on his nightstand and huddle under the covers. He curls up, but sleep proves difficult to come by, and every time he manages to drift off, he inevitably wakes himself up with yet another coughing fit.

By the time Logan wakes, the next morning, Virgil appears to have come and gone, and with a start, he reaches for his phone to check the time. The glaringly bright screen echoes 11:30 back at him, and Logan struggles to get up, having already missed one of his classes, and determined not to miss the rest. He feels sore and moves sluggishly around the dorm room gathering his things, but just before he can leave, the door bursts open as Virgil returns.

“What are you doing?” Virgil demands, glaring at Logan with a surprising ferocity.

“I overslept. A better question is why didn’t you wake me?” Logan growls back, irritated and still ridiculously tired.

“Overslept?” Virgil barks back. “You kept both of us up half the night with your coughing fits, and you’re worried about oversleeping?!” Logan tries to formulate a response, but Virgil is already stepping forward, crowding into his personal space and herding him back towards his bed.

“Get back in bed, idiot. Hell, you didn’t even eat the breakfast I left you, before trying to book it out of here!” Virgil steps to the side, as soon as Logan sits back down, and picks a tray up from it’s resting place on his nightstand.

“What-” Logan tries to ask, but Virgil is already interrupting him.

“You need to eat something. And drink the tea, too.”Virgil offers him the tray as soon as he’s settled, and Logan examines its contents. Fruit, oatmeal, and a cup containing the tea Virgil had mentioned.

“I can’t just skip my classes, Virgil, I might miss something important,” Logan argued, though he still picked up the spoon.

“Seeing as I already spoke to your teachers about it; yes, you definitely can. You haven’t missed a single day of class yet, and in case you haven’t noticed, you’re sick.” Virgil responded evenly. “The sooner you take the time to get better, the sooner you’ll be able to go back to class.” Silence descends on the two of them for a moment, as Logan eats, and Virgil rummages around in his backpack.

“You spoke to my teachers?” Logan quietly asks a minute later.”Why?”

“I mean, you’re sick.” Virgil looks back at him warily. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Ignore me? You’ve never displayed an interest in interacting before. I just find it -odd- that you would choose to take an interest in me now when I’m ill.”

“I guess I’m just used to taking care of sick people. I’ve got to go to class.” With that, Virgil leaves Logan alone in their room once more. Carefully, he settles in to finish eating his breakfast, though it’s much closer to lunchtime now, Logan supposes.

The next day is Friday, and if anything, Logan feels even worse, so he stays in bed once again, annoyed with his body but unable to argue in the face of Virgil’s confident assumption of control. It reminds him of being back home, with Aunt Lacey fussing over him the moment he catches a cold. He tries to read his textbooks, to study and at least pretend to be productive, but his eyes can barely stay open, let alone focus, and mostly he ends up just sitting in bed, staring at the wall in front of him, waiting for time to pass. Virgil finds him like that, when he returns from his classes, staring straight ahead with unfocused eyes.

“Jeez, you look like you’ve been given a prison sentence. I’m surprised you’re not studying, actually.” Logan started to shake his head in response but aborted the motion immediately as it set his head spinning.

“I attempted it. My eyes seem to be having trouble maintaining focus on the words.”

“Oh, well you could watch some Netflix or something? It’s honestly creepy, you just staring at the wall like that.” Virgil placed a tray with more food beside Logan, before shrugging of his backpack.

“I do not have Netflix. It seemed an inadvisable expenditure when I should be spending my time studying.” Logan frowned, focusing on the food Virgil had brought him.

“Okay, that’s just sad. Where’s your laptop?” Logan pointed at his backpack, where it lay beside his bed, wondering what Virgil wanted with it.

“Ugh. password?” Virgil asked once the machine had successfully booted up.

“Mmm,” Logan mumbled. “Tomato.”

“That didn’t work, Logan. Are delirious too?”

“Not-” Logan frowned. “Not literally tomato. The scientific name. Solanum Lycopersicum.”

“Sola- what?”

“Solanum Lycopersicum. It’s the scientific name for the tomato. Just google it.” This time, Virgil had brought Logan some kind of soup, so he sniffed at it. It smelled like chicken broth.

“Right. Of course, that’s your password.” Virgil pulled out his phone and started typing.

“What are you doing anyway?’ Logan blew into the soup, watching Virgil out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m logging you into my Netflix account. You need something to do, and it has plenty of documentaries. I’m sure one of them will interest you.” Virgil typed into the computer for a moment more. “There, your own profile and everything. Enjoy. I’m going for a run.” And once again Virgil was out the door, leaving Logan adrift in Virgil’s complete shift in personality over the past two days.

Logan’s feeling marginally better the next day, and by Sunday afternoon, he’s feeling well enough to leave their room for his meals. Logan worries temporarily that Virgil’s been infected with whatever caught hold of him, but that fear proves unfounded, and Virgil remains as healthy as ever. With Logan’s returned health, Virgil’s attitude returns mostly to normal, but Logan finds his curiosity about his aloof roommate has only been heightened after this most recent incident. He only wishes he had an idea of how to properly thank Virgil for his help.

tags taken from the fanders taglist

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