#implying i have much of a personality anymore i think whatever was there kinda melted away these past few years djshkshk

[mementoasts]

posting stuff online because i truly just love sharing my silly creations with anyone who may also love them vs. wanting to deactivate and move to a forest every time i'm met with positive feedback (i am terrified of people and of being recognized/acknowledged)

[typically-untypical]

New Year Old Trope - Huddling for Warmth

A Hero's Bargin

AU: Super Power AU (Villain Patton)

CW: Implied Sexual Innuendo

Date: 1/13/2022

Patton didn’t like this. He had captured a hero, actually taken them down into an abandoned warehouse and chained them up. He was supposed to be trying to be better. He had been talking to Virgil about ways to be a better vigilante, because Patton didn’t believe he could become a hero. This just proved him right. The hero in front of him was the last person to see Virgil, and Patton would do whatever he needed to find his friend, even if that meant crossing a line he couldn’t uncross.

“Tell me where he—“ Patton looked at the hero, handcuffed to a poll, curled up in a very familiar grey cardigan.

“Is that my sweater?”

“You weren’t using it.” The hero, Artemis, said in a far too cheerful tone for someone who was supposed to be captured.

“How did you even get a hold of it?”

He shrugged, “I have my ways, why didn’t you put a heater in this place?”

“It wasn’t like I planned this!” Patton said, suddenly completely thrown off his rhythm. What was this hero doing? Trying to set up a conversation, trying to be somewhat friendly to Patton, it didn’t make a single bit of sense.

“So you just kidnapped a superhero, without a plan?”

The howling winds outside shook the windows in the same way Patton shook with frustration. He didn’t want to kidnap a hero but Virgil was missing and he needed his best friend back.

“Look, just tell me what you did with him and I will let you go!” Though he knew it wasn’t much of a threat, this man obviously thought he held all of the cards even though he was chained up.

“I mean, I don’t even know who you are talking about.”

“Virgil!” Patton shouted, voice going horse as he fought back his own tears. He thought he had better control than this. He knew he had better control. He had long since mastered the art of hiding his own emotions and yet over the past few months, Virgil had become so important to him that there was no way for him to hide his frustration. “Tell me where he is, what did you do with him?!”

“Who?”

“Tall man, purple fringe, eyes that could melt your soul, Virgil!”

“Oh, the civilian? Yeah, I talked to him, but then I took him home.”

He hadn’t been there when Patton checked, and the last time Patton called, he hadn’t gotten an answer. Scrambling for his phone, Patton attempted to call Virgil, any confirmation that what the hero was saying was true. His breath shone in the air as he tapped his foot impatiently, only to freeze as he heard a soft muttered “Hello.”

“Virgil, you’re okay!” It came out more as a sigh of thankfulness than as a question, but Patton waited for an answer nonetheless.

“Yeah P, I’m fine, why did you think I wasn’t?”

“I saw you talking to some hero, and then you weren’t at home, and your job said you called out, and I couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“Shit, I forgot to call you back. I’m sorry Patton, the hero thing was no big deal. He wanted information on you but I didn’t tell him anything, other than that, I got sick. Been at home most of the past two days except for when I went to get some medicine. Saw your call, but kinda forgot about it when I fell back to sleep.”

Patton slid to his knees, heaving out a sigh but quickly covering his mouth.

“Good, good, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He could hear a yawn on Virgil’s end and he tried not to worry too much.

“Are you still tired?”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna go back to bed. There’s a snow storm coming in, so be careful, okay?”

“I’ll be okay, I promise, you get some rest.”

“Alright, 'night, P.” He heard the line go dead and felt a warmth over his back.

“See, he’s okay.”

Patton looked up at the hero who was standing over him who was smirking lightly. However, Patton no longer had the energy to fight or figure out how the hero had escaped the handcuffs.

“You really care about him?”

“Yeah… I do.” It was probably a mistake to admit that, but Patton wasn’t trying to be an enemy anymore, not really.

The hero sat down next to him, curling against Patton and sharing his warmth. Despite complaining about the cold, he was actually very warm, almost like a small heater.

“That’s good, it’s important to have people you care about, Patton.”

“You know my name?” He was quiet, the building was getting colder and Patton could hear the wind outside.

“Well yeah, people think my brother is the smart one, but I’m really the brains of the operations. My name’s Remus, and I want to talk to you about a few things.”

He wrapped his arms around Patton, pulling him closer, “After we survive this storm.”

Patton sighed, slowly nodding his head. He guessed he owed the hero that much, as long as he managed to survive the storm.

Tag List: @tsshipmonth2020 @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky

[sunnywritesstuff34]

Illusions

(Yayyyy. Another one. It’s been a while, sorry. just wanna preface this by saying that like... I usually don’t really give a shit about Obito, but I figured this was a natural progression of the story and I kinda wanted to try and dive into Obito’s psyche a little so. here we go. tell me what you think. @ghostjellyfishheart here’s the next chapter lol. pls mind the tw’s)

TW and CW for: MAJOR UNREALITY, seriously stay safe, Obito is kinda spiraling a lot, grieving, struggling with morality, drinking, alcohol, less then stellar coping mechanisms of all kinds, don’t do this kids, child death, ghost child, dead kid, you don’t like... see her die but Rin is very much not alive, references to suicide, implied suicide, the uchiha massacre is its own warning, murder, its bad. its just. its just bad. did I mention unreality? a lot of that, death of a family member, obito is having a hard time with feelings, probably dis@ssociation, pretentious symbolism, scratch that, definitely dis@ssociation

Obito Uchiha is upset. 

And that is, frankly, ridiculous. Obito does not get upset. What does upset even mean? Is he sad? Mourning, perhaps? Or is he just worried? Either way, its borderline impossible. He shouldn’t be feeling anything. Obito doesn’t feel anything. Sure, he plays at it, when he’s Tobi. He feigns and pretends, he’s good at that. That is what he is, that is all he is. To Itachi, he is Madara. To Konan and Nagito, he is Obito. To everyone else, he is Tobi. Obito has taken on mask after mask after mask on in his life, both figuratively and literally. Sometimes he doesn't know where Obito ends and another begins. Obito does not feel anything, not for anyone that isn't Rin. Never for anyone that isn't Rin, and he left her behind a long time ago. And yet this boy, this child, has him reeling somehow. Has him… well, like before, the only word he can use is upset. He is rattled. And it has been so long, so long since he’s felt anything at all, that he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to fix it. He kept seeing Sasuke in his head, kept remembering memories from years ago when he thought about the kid being gone forever. He remembered the first few years Itachi brought Sasuke to the compound, he remembered spontaneously discovering his obsession with tomatoes by accident with Kisame (who would not stop laughing. He had just never seen anybody. Put an entire tomato in their mouth. And Sasuke did it like it was the most natural thing in the world! Kisame wouldn't shut up about it for at least a week). He remembered helping the boy train with his newly forged chokuto, he remembered the grim determination towards his family and how much it reminded Obito of himself, he remembered all of it. And none of that should have mattered, because it wasn't real. None of it was real, the next world would be. The next world with Rin and Kakashi and Minato-sensei still alive, a world without… without Sasuke. Or any of the other Akatsuki. And that was what he wanted. He was sure that was what he wanted. Only in his room could he show the weakness tightly coiled in his stomach. But there was a knock on his door and it made him straighten up, instantly putting the mask that he just took off back on his face. He walked to the door and opened it, only to find the older Uchiha brother staring back at him. Obito blinked. 

“Itachi-san. What are you… what are you doing here? I- uh… come in.” Obito and Itachi sat down at the small table in Obito’s room and stared at each other awkwardly. “So… how can I help you?” Obito tried to ask, unsure of whether to say it like Tobi or just let his guard down and talk like himself (whoever that was). Itachi cleared his throat. 

“You are the only person in this godforsaken place that has sake that's worth a damn,” Itachi explained calmly. He looked away. “It has… been a long week.” Obito could tell the truth in that statement just from his cousin’s voice. Itachi sounded exhausted, and the perpetual mask of indifference had begun to slip when his little brother went missing. The two of them looked at each other and came to an understanding. For the next few minutes, there was no talking. Obito grabbed some glasses and poured his strongest sake out for the both of them, and they drank in silence. They only actually picked up a conversation once they were both drunk enough for the awkwardness to melt away. 

“He’s likely not dead,” Obito commented bluntly. Itachi only sighed. 

“If he is, I have no idea what I'd do,” Itachi grumbled casually, like it was an ordinary thing to say. “Certainly wouldn't stick around here. Probably follow in Shisui’s footsteps.” Obito only nodded, knowing better than to pry on that particular bit of insight into Itachi’s life. They were silent for a few more minutes before Obito spoke again. 

“The massacre,” Obito started. “I was long gone by the time it happened. What… are you and Sasuke really the only survivors as the rumors say?” Itachi nodded, throwing back another glass. Obito thought about that bitterly, about his grandmother who wouldn't have been spared. Itachi sighed. 

“Right. I've never really talked about this with anyone, and Sasuke and I don't speak about it much. You know how sharingan awakening works, yes?” Obito nodded, mind involuntarily flashing to his own experience. 

“Well I made some genuine friends on my genin team. It was the first time I ever had any friends.” Obito closed his eyes and took another sip. Friends, sharingan awakening. Being crushed under a boulder with your crying teammates looming over you. Thinking, no, don't cry, it doesn't hurt. It really doesn't hurt. I can't feel anything, please don't cry. Watching a particular white haired individual (a traitor, that traitor) desperately try to save you. Losing a part of yourself, a part of yourself you didn't even know you had, and giving it to someone else. Forever living with that, knowing that your other eye is somewhere, because you can still feel it, but not knowing much else. The aching absence that grows from that. He opened his eyes again. “I watched them die, right in front of my eyes. That awakened my Sharingan, and when I went home, my father congratulated me. He congratulated me. It was a nightmare and he was proud. I don't know, that always stuck with me. But anyway,” Itachi paused to drink more sake as the room spun. “Sasuke’s eyes woke during the massacre. I didn't get there in time. He watched our parents die, managed to hide in the closet and keep quiet the whole time so they didn't find him. I got there in time to stop them from killing him, and realized his sharingan had awakened because of everything. I wasn't able to save anyone, but I was able to save him, and that's all that matters.”

“I understand,” Obito replied evenly. “I know what it's like to be too late.”

Itachi’s eyes slid over to him. “Yeah well… whatever. The Uchiha had been planning a coup for a while. Danzo, he gave me a choice. Either kill everyone myself and have Sasuke be spared to live happily in the village. Or, to let them kill everyone, Sasuke included. I didn't… I refused either option and tried to get there but I was too late. They killed everyone in one night, a bunch of Anbu who were deployed for the massacre. Like I said, Sasuke managed to hide. I knew that Danzo would be after us, so I grabbed Sasuke and we got the hell out of dodge. He didn't speak for months afterwards. Not a single word, other than screaming during his nightmares. It was probably a little selfish, but I… I missed him. There was no more ‘Itachi, look at the score I got at the academy!’ or ‘Itachi look, look I learned a new move!’ There was just… nothing. He was so vacant. If he's dead- if he’s dead after everything we’ve been through, I don't- I have no idea what I'll do. We have to find him, and we have to kill the people who took him away from us. We have to.” I know, he wanted to shout. I know, I feel the same way, but I don't know why! Itachi left not long after that, stumbled back to his room, and Obito fell asleep in his armchair. That night he had a dream, a dream of Rin. it had been years since he dreamed of her, usually they were memories and bits and pieces, but this was different. He opened his eyes in his dream to a dark plane filled with ink, darkness stretching in every direction. It was a frequent setting he found himself in, usually the dream would be about him sinking into the oily substance until he couldn't breath. But this time it was low enough to wade in, his feet touching the ground, whatever that was. In the middle of the expanse, there was a bone white skeleton of some creature he didn't recognize, and Rin. He staggered towards her, and she hugged him without a word. In dreams like this he was always covered in blood, the Obito from years past. But now he was just him, and he was maskless.

“Just what have you gotten yourself into now, Obito?” she asked, and it sounded just like her. It wasn't her, he was fairly sure of that, he was dreaming for god’s sake, but it sounded like her. It seemed like her, and that was enough. “It's okay to be worried about the kid,” she said, running fingers through his hair while he tried to calm his breathing. 

“It's not real,” he managed hoarsely. “None of it. Nothing in this world is real, I shouldn't feel anything. So why… Why do I…”

“Does it matter if it's real?” she asked. “It feels real. Maybe it is, Obito.”

“Obito is dead,” he whispered. “At least the one you knew- Obito doesn't exist anymore.” Rin only shook her head, looking past him at nothing at all and smiling sadly.

“I don't believe you,” she said evenly. “You're still Obito. No matter how many names you take or how many masks you wear, I know who you are. And I think you do too.”

“It's not real,” he tried again, weakly. 

“If it's not real, then why do you help Konan with the dishes? If it's not real, then why do you want to save Itachi’s brother so badly? Why do you make plans for Nagato’s dream in the supposed next world when you don't have to? Why do you stick around Deidara to make sure he doesn't get killed? Why do you help Sasori with his puppets? Why, Obito?”

“I can't be Obito,” he muttered quietly. “He’s dead. He died with you.”

“He is right here. He is sitting here with me. You're still you. You'll always be you.”

“B-But…. But Madara-”

“Madara is dead,” she said with finality, shaking her head. “Madara is a dead man now. You are the only thing that can bring him back, and you have a choice.”

“I've never had a choice.”

“You do now. Madara isn't here.”

“This is all just an illusion.” She smiled sadly. 

“I'm an illusion, Obito. Your world is not.”

His dream didn't fade out from there. One second he was sitting in a dark dreamscape with his dead friend, and the next he was in the Akatsuki lair, laying in an armchair, sitting up and gasping for breath. His back hurt and his neck was aching from the weird position he dozed off in, and Obito could already feel the nausea of an inevitable hangover coming on. Still, he sat up properly, stretching his neck and running a hand through his short hair. Itachi was probably passed out in his room or throwing up already, and Obito had a hunch that he’d be feeling the same way pretty soon. He looked down at the floor and forced his eyes to focus. He didn't have time for a drunken hallucination within a drunken hallucination. But when he turned his head, he felt himself recoil and raise his hands to his face. The orange plastic from the ground winked back at him. Obito had taken his mask off. And now it was cracked. 

[thebadchoicemachine]

For the writing prompt, what about ghost!Robin and Catboy!Corpse seeing present day Cornelius/Dream? Like Dream being confused and happy about his Partner and Son’s Ghosts being there and everyone else being v confused about the two random people calling him Cornelius and knowing him from a hundred years ago.

anon im so sorry. This has been sitting in my inbox for months now but I just cannot finish this story. it a really cool idea though. Here’s my incomplete first draft. I just copy and paste it from my wip to here so this is it, notes and cuts and typos and all. 

The idea is Karl shows up when they’re in the prison and they see the false timeline where Cornelius was a killer and are forced to accept he sucks

_________________

- The execution cell was supposed to be merciful, a more civilized solution than being beat to death, but everything about it made Robin gag. He hoped he would never ever end up in it. 

tw: implied indirect suicide, major death but they’re ghosts(?) 

--•-•-*-•-•-- 

Colors and colors and colors wouldn’t stop melting and mixing and swirling. They surrounded him. They were in him. They were him. He breathed them in without breathing, he bled them without blood, he was falling and flying and stood completely still. 

And then it was dark. No, then it was light. White and clean like the marble of a palace Robin knew he would never get to see. 

Where... where was he? He’d won hadn’t he? They’d... killed... him. They’d killed everyone. 

He wanted to die. He had to. There was boiling in his blood he couldn’t ease, he had to die, he needed them to hate him. To end him. The Jester’s Curse. Cursed to be wronged, to be hurt, to be freed. 

He’d always had it, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t know why he resisted for so long. Perhaps, despite everything, he’d enjoyed living at one point. Despite what he was, despite his curse, despite bring a jester, he wanted to live! At some point he couldn’t care less about tricking others into condemning him to the grave. 

After Cornelius, after Cat, he didn’t even fight it nor could he fight for it. He didn’t even care. Even as the ground swallowed him up in flames of the execution he held no harmony. No peace. There was no joy in his victory, there was no meaning to his death. Even in fulfilling it, he’d denied his curse. 

That’s why he was still here, wasn’t it? Jesters want to die, they want to transform, to be released into vengeful spirits of lies and trickery. He was... dead. He was also... still here... why? He knew why. He didn’t think he liked the answer. 

Robin couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand to bother mourning anymore. Not himself, not his long-dead family, not his new fath- he choked. He didn’t know know on what, he had no air, no lungs. He just couldn’t finish the thought. 

“We never did make it official, did we?” A solemn, comforting, voice rang out.

Robin spun around. No. What? No, it’s not. It is. He is. Right there. Standing- no, not standing. Neither of them can stand. Not floating either just… there… was Cat. 

Robin felt his eyes fill up with tears, he didn’t know how, he didn’t care. He flew into his friend’s arms. 

“Woah! Ah, be careful, child.”

“H-how,” Robin sobbed into his chest. “How are you…”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I th-thought that was because of my c-curse.”

Cat sighed, gently ruffling the child’s hair.  

“No,” he spoke, finally. “I don’t think that’s why any of us are here.”

“Then-”

“No, I don’t think it’s what happens to everyone either. I’ve been alone as far as I can tell. I haven’t found anyone else. Not even…” he sighed again. 

Robin understood. Cornelius was gone. 

“I’m so sorry, Robin.” Cat tightened his grip. “I’m so sorry for what we put you through. We promised we would give you a better life, a safer one, but we left you in the worst way possible. You were executed because... because of me.”

“Oh,” Robin stared down at his feet. “You... were there for that?”

“No. I wasn’t- I can’t- I don’t know how to explain it, I only know what happened. Exactly what happened. It was like living a story being told to you, as though a nar- narrating...

Narration. Something clicked in both of their minds. Wasn’t there some strange… the spirals… the colors… he didn’t have a name, not one he ever told them. He had simply showed up one day, right before it all began. He wasn’t there, not properly anyway,. but he was there. He was there in the backs of everyone’s minds. He was there as he explained away every awful thing like it was a footnote in a novel. He was there as he made and told truth. He was the Narrator. 

He had such an air of control, such an air of change. 

Thoughts (memories?) of a past that never happened flashed through Robin’s mind. Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk- NO. No. He swept the distraction from his mind. He wouldn’t get carried away, not this time.

The narrator. The Narrator. He had a book. A swirling and swishing mash of colors cover on his book he scribed all their horrors into. That’s where they were. 

“Cat, we need to go. He made a mistake. This… was his first time. We are not supposed to be here. We were never meant to leave. We should try to get out.”

Cat only nodded. Robin didn’t know why he understood or how deeply, but he did. This was a mistake.

The two began wandering the halls. It was strange, being able to think and move again as though his body was still his. To have his mind and thoughts working in a stream of consciousness instead of a thick muddy bog of echos. If he didn’t know any better he’d describe it as feeling more… alive.

He even reached out to guide Cat out of habit. How amazing was it that he had habits again? Cat allowed him to because he knew the comfort it gave him to have something so familiar. Although, of course, not really needing him to. They were both still dead, spirits, memories. Living- not living like this, detached, was like existing with a million tiny radars reaching out all around you. It wasn’t a matter of seeing or feeling, simply knowing. When you were so disconnected from life and itself you were able to get a much clearer and instant idea of the world, he supposed.

They walked and wandered in silence for a while. At least, a while from their perspective. Even with no real idea what or where they were Robin could tell time was… off… here. 

Eventually, they found their way out. There was no exit or pathway they walked through nor was it a sudden jump. They had just… made it out. They were standing beneath the shelter of some trees. It was raining. They were surrounded by unfamiliar structures and landscapes. Of course they were, but this wasn’t just some distant biome or kingdom it was…

“Robin? Are you alright?” 

“I- yes. I’m fine, Cat. This is- I mean, that place is just… wow.”

“It’s... different, yes. This rain is- hmm, it’s weird. I can’t feel it but I know it’s there. It’s making everything fuzzy.”

Robin stuck his hand out. The raindrops sizzled against his skin. He was so focused on the odd sensation he jumped when Cat yanked his arm back.

“What was that? Are you alright?”

“The rain, it stings.”

“Badly? Are you hurt?”

“Not really. It feels like I’m a bar of soap being whittled down by the drops but I’m fine. It only feels strange.”

“Oh, good,” Cat breathed a sigh of relief. “In that case, let’s keep moving.” 

Robin agreed. They didn’t have anywhere to go but neither felt like standing under the tree for all eternity. Besides, they were in a whole new world, maybe even a whole new dimension, and Robin was really curious to see what was with those strange building 

It all seemed impossible. 

His breath was taken away at every turn as they walked. Structures like nothing he’d ever seen before. There were so many colors, so many shapes, so many mechanics, so many things, and all so high and huge. It was amazing. 

“Slow down a little, this rain is really disorienting.”

“Sorry! Sorry, this place is just… wow.”

“So you’ve said,” Cat laughed. “What exactly is so amazing about it? Describe it to me.”

“Well, there’s so much of it. It’s like a town but nothing like a town at all. More like a whole kingdom. A very strange kingdom.  There’s no uniform to it, every build is unique. There was a castle we passed, it was huge and had so many colors! There were just rainbows and rainbows pouring out of every-”

“Mmm, interesting.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“This castle though, it felt like regret, didn’t it?”

“Y-yeah? Kinda,” Robbin had been trying to avoid thinking about that, how he could feel every building. “Uh, over to your side there is a pit, a giant crater bigger than our entire town! It’s tragic. It’s refreshing a little. It’s kind of…”

“Familiar. I- I don’t want to be near that, Robin. Let’s keep moving.”

Robin didn’t agree. He wanted to get closer, to feel what was so sad, so new, so ended, what about whatever tragedy there was familiar. He wanted to understand what he knew would hurt him, and why. 

*****

“No! He would never!” Cat’s voice was rising. It was honestly scary, Robin had never seen him so wrathful. “He is the kindest person you will ever know! He is a protector! He’s- he is-”

“Do you really believe that?” The Narrator asked, calm and unfazed, sorrow creeping into his question. Robin couldn’t shake it from his mind. His thoughts were ruffles like pages flipping backward in a book. Like a pencil rubbing revealing words erased and undone but that had still been written. He was sent back to his flashing memories, his lies, unable to stop them.  

Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk choosing wrong tonight. He’d been right to focus on himself. No, he’d been lucky. He’d panicked. Cat was out to the town now. Robin was out now. The killers knew they could stop them, they would be targets. The killers…

Part of him wanted to ignore it, to go back to thinking it couldn’t be one of them. That no one would do something like that, that is must be some outside force but Jimmy… they’d gotten him right. Robin winced at the memory of Helga, at how it had almost been him, but they’d gotten Jimmy right. He knew they had, the Narrator said so. 

The next morning, no one had died. Robin hadn’t needed to heal anyone. Cat reported Jack hadn’t left his home. It seemed like, well, it must be Jack. It just had to be, didn’t it? Robin frowned. He liked Jack enough, he didn’t want to kill anyone. He didn’t want to be wrong again but what choice did he have?

Jack was fighting. He was shouting, angry, scared. He was in the exact same place Robin had been a few nights ago. The familiarity burned inside his chest. He couldn’t stand any more of this, it needed to end tonight. 

“IT’S CORNELIUS!  IT’S HIM! IT HAS TO BE! Look at me. Look at me! You know me, I’m simple, I farm potatoes. If Helga was still here she’d remind yall I ain’t good for much else. You really think I could do this?”

Robin couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to spare everyone he could but… Cornelius? Could he really condemn him any more than he could Jack? Could he any less? 

“What makes you think it’s me and not one of them? I know you’re a killer, Jack. You guessed Cat would be on your trail tonight and didn’t kill. Why else wouldn’t someone be dead today?” Cornelius’s voice was as calm and upbeat as ever, if not a bit exasperated. 

“He’s smart! He’s too smart. Look at his freaky, calculatin’ eyes, if you can ever see them. Look at him! Hiding behind that mask, wearing that ridiculous green hood, what’s that smile for, huh? None of us should have trusted him the day he set foot in this town, make up for it now. C’mon! Cat, I know you’re better than murderin’ folks for mayhem. Bob, you’re as simple as me! Robin,” Robin froze up as he was addressed directly “You’re a child, a sweet one. I’m sorry you have to live through this. I’m sorry you’ve been where I am now but I only hope that gives you the empathy you need to make the right choice. It’s him. I swear it’s not me!”

Everything felt stifled. He muffled the distraught protests of Cat in favor of listening to his own. No. No, it couldn’t be.  Everyone in town used to be friendly but Cornelius was a friend. He and Cat had been there for Robin. They’d taken him in, cared for him, treated him as their own son. Well, Cat had. 

Robin slowly blinked. What had Cornelius done for him? Thinking this way made him sick but he needed to be rational here. Did he really believe Cornelius was innocent, truly? He trusted Cat. Cat had proof he was safe, even if he wasn’t an investigator he had years and years of kindness to back him up. What did Cornelius have, really? He was kind, decent enough, but so was Jack. So were Jimmy and Helga. That wasn’t something he could base his vote on. 

So what did make him so sure it wasn’t Cornelius? The only… he realized the only thing holding him up was Cat. Cat loved him. Robin wanted that to be enough. He wanted desperately to go back home, to lay in Cat’s lap while Cornelius told them stories. He wanted to retreat into his memories but when he tried they felt corrupted, tainted, hollow. 

Every time he tried to imagine the kind way Cornelius had ruffled his hair, how he’d giggle and blush after a kiss from Cat, how he’d take off his mask at home and join Robin sitting on the porch, every time he tried to lose himself in the memory of that soft, humored, smile he was frozen inside by the eyes. Even when they were sad or kind his eyes were always vibrant, sharp… calculating. 

Robin took a shaky breath. He didn’t like this, he didn’t want to do this, any of it. He was filled with a numb resolve as he cast his vote. He had no proof either was innocent but he had no reason to believe Jack was capable of this… he knew Cornelius was. 

“The voting has finished,” The Narrator began. “Jack... Jack is the most suspected but this means nothing. Cornelius, by 3/5ths of the vote you have been found guilty. Please, step into the chamber.”

-

“NO!” A scream cut through the faux memory, just barely. Just enough for Robin to hear it. Who had yelled? Cat? Cor- Dream? Himself? He didn’t know, he was still lost.

-

Lost… Robin was so lost. 3/5ths. Cornelius obviously voted for Jack and vice versa, Bob was on Jack’s side, Cat must have voted for Jack even if only to save his love. Robin had been the deciding vote. What had he done? Was he right? Cornelius gave him no answer as he calmly stepped into the cell. The Narrator blabbed on, explaining the votes and who and what but for the first time since the colorful stranger arrived Robin couldn't listen to a word he said, instead focusing on Cat. 

Cat had run to the jail, his hands reaching desperately through the bars. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this,” he kept repeating. His voice was calm and low but Robin could tell that was desperate. He was putting on an act, trying to reassure Cornelius as though it would all solve itself if he just kept together. Cornelius still didn’t speak. He took Cat’s hand and rested it on his face, under his mask.

Then the grate snaped close and Cat was forced to pull his hand back. He barely moved though, pressing his hands against the wire through the bars. Cornelius pressed his hand up from the other side. Maybe Cat could feel it, maybe he couldn’t, Robin didn’t know which he preferred. 

Part of Robin wanted to put him to back away, to warn him the bars and fence was there for a reason, but the rest of him knew he couldn’t. The least- the only thing he could do was allow Cat this brief moment of closure, if you could even call it that. 

Cornelius still kept silent, for just the briefest of moments Robin hated him. How dare he? How dare he sit there, keeping Cat suffering in silence? How dare he keep Robin in this horrid suspense? How dare he not admit his crimes or keep pleading his innocence? How dare he… how dare… then Robin heard Cat whimper and the anger was gone. 

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We-”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” The Narrator laughed, almost callously. If he wasn’t so detached from the world, so different from them he felt innocent even in cruelty, Robin might’ve felt like spitting on him. He couldn’t though, he was different. He was detached. He was like a child who didn’t know any better than to hurt others’ feelings. Like a child except instead of not knowing any better he knew too much. 

Maybe that’s why Robin didn’t lash out or protest as the narrator pulled the lever. Maybe that’s why he didn’t scream as the pistons shifted. Maybe that’s why he only closed his eyes and ignored the shouts of triumph. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at Jack and Bob for celebrating, at the moment he was only glad their cries drowned out the sizzle. 

[sword-of-the-writer]

It's so great that you're getting more confident in your own writing!! Can I request “I kept every letter…” (72) with Yuri please? Maybe it had something to do with a reunion after the timeskip? Ooh, maybe include a letter or two (but only if you want)! Also if you haven't done the DLC then maybe Sylvain? Ily 💖💖💖🥺🥺🥺

I kinda hate how this ended up but at the same time I’m aware of the fact that I’m currently in a a mindset where I don’t like anything I do soooo yeah. But it was fun to write! So thats a plus! I just didn’t bother proof reading ngl...

Also omg am I ever bad at naming fics ugh don’t look at it

Disclaimer: The way I wrote the reader character implies a lot that they are experiencing depression due to the losing time, general melancholy, and so on. Please don’t push yourself to read this if that could be triggering to you! Its not worth it!

—

The Letters You Sent || Yuri Leclerc

Days seemed to turn to night every time you blinked, and months seem to pass with every breath.

It all seemed to blur together, those five years of many battles and little hope, except for the only thing that seemed to keep you tethered to reality.

Every so often, about 2-3 weeks apart, you would receive a letter from one of your old classmates.

The first had more than caught you by surprise. A traveling merchant had said something strange to you, strange yet oh so familiar... you quickly returned to him and his wares once you had pinpointed where you had first heard such a phrase, but the man only laughed and insisted you take a beautiful porcelain jar.

Later that night you had opened it up, finding a curious little letter inside.

You only knew of one person who would have the influence to get a merchant on board with such a clever plan, especially considering how heavily monitored mail and trade had been by the empire.

Thus your discreet correspondence with Yuri Leclerc had begun.

The two of you tended to talk about everything but the war. It was almost as if you were exchanging amorous notes back and forth like school children. Almost as if there was no war to speak of.

And truthfully, it’s all you had to hold on to the world around you.

Until the letters stopped

—

You swayed and stumbled through the next four and a half months, barely remembering any of it.

At one point, you were visited by another old classmate, Ashe, who helped pull you away from your melancholic routine. He had come to visit between battles, insisting that the two of you go back to the monastery for the promised reunion. You shrugged in indifference, to which Ashe pouted.

You gave in with little protest, as you didn’t have enough strength to fight against Ashe’s decisions. This only worried the freckled boy more and more as he saw just how hard the war had hit you. You were almost lifeless... nothing like what he remembered from your academy days.

You stopped to put up a makeshift camp when night fell, and thats when Ashe pulled an actual response from you. Finally, something more than a shrug!

“What happened, [Y/N]? Clearly, something happened.” Ashe asked softly, face downcast as he anticipated a reply

“I’ve never been much of a solitary person, being alone for so long has really gotten to me.” You admitted, though skipping the details about losing time as you thought it’d only worry the boy further

“I... I’m sorry. We all went our separate ways... but I...”

You knew now that Ashe was consumed with guilt by this. He looked to you not with pity in his eyes, but guilt and concern.

“Well I.. I was exchanging letters with Yuri for a time. Through an old merchant.”

“Oh?” He looked up, “Well, lead it to Yuri to find a clever loop hole. We barely have been able to send letters between the kingdom territories not controlled by the empire.”

“It’s that bad, huh? I suppose I really took the letters for granted.” You sigh

“When was the last time he wrote?”

“The last one I received was...” you paused to think. How many days had past? “Four... four and a half I think?”

“Weeks? Well—“

“Months”

“Oh, I see.” He nodded, “though that doesn’t mean—“

“Whatever it does mean, isn’t anything in my favor. He’s dead... He’s captured... He just doesn’t want to talk to me anymore... the options aren’t good.”

Ashe fell silent, unable to muster a counter argument that made any sense. Looking away, you sigh.

“You won’t be alone anymore, though.” Ashe spoke up

“What?” You turn back, eyes wide with curiosity

“You won’t be alone. I’ve heard that both Sylvain and Felix intend on making it to the reunion, and so I can only imagine who else will be there. You’ll be surrounded by people who care about you.”

“I—“ you pause, sighing “you sound like you’re trying to convince me to go, despite us being halfway there.”

Ashe chuckled “ah, you’re right.”

“Lets just get some rest.”

—

The next day also seemed to blur by, but that was more in the sense that Ashe’s horse was going so damn fast. And then, of course, there were the thieves.

You were the most excited you had been since you read the neat and loopy words scrawled across the parchment neatly placed in that porcelain pot. It really made you fight with more vigor than you had felt since you left.

In the aftermath, you a familiar mint haired silhouette.

“The professor is alive?” You gasped, pushing past your other classmates “oh professor! I’m so glad you’re alive!”

“I’m glad to find that all of you are alive as well,” they answered back “I’m sorry for being away for so long.”

Everyone’s spirits seemed high, including your own. You even seemed to forget about the letters sent by a certain someone! At this point, everyone started to crowd the previously dead professor to question them, and so you shirked away to the back of the crowd.

“Well now, you were quite concerned for the professor, but not me? Thats harsh.” A familiar sing-songy voice teased

You were paralyzed in your spot, unknowing what to do as your thoughts raced a mile a minute. So he was alive? You were overjoyed!

Except that meant... the letters...

You turned on your heal to face the man. He was still taller than you despite how you had grown, his hair had grown out somewhat, and by the goddess he was still stunning!

“Yuri?” You had to mumble, almost as if you were sure he was only your imagination

“Who else? You seriously didn’t forget such a pretty face, did you?”

Disbelief turned to anger the longer you looked at his teasing smile. Why had he stopped sending letters? And then why is he picking on you now? It didn’t make sense.

“Why are you saying such things when you were the one who cut contact with me! Did none of it matter to you.”

Yuri didn’t seem surprised by your words, though clearly they still rubbed him the wrong way.

To avoid causing a fuss, Yuri pulled you aside.

“They did. Do, I mean. I kept every letter.” He huffs

You felt a flutter in your heart from his response, but you still pressed him for answers, “Then what was with the last few months?”

“The last— right.” An exasperated sigh left the man’s lips as he held his head in his hands “the merchant demanded more and more money each time— I had to think about Abyss first.”

“Oh.”

“I wish I said something in my last letter, I do, but I didn’t think it would be the last.”

“I... I’m sorry for thinking the worst.” You admit, the anger now long gone “I just... thought you were... y’know?”

Yuri’s hands lifted to your shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. You melted at his touch.

“You think I’d die that easily?” He laughed “while I was waiting this whole time for you to come back?”

[carnoshin]

hh im kinda new to this so i hope it's okay! how would bubba, billy and stu (poly if that's okay?) and brahms react to having like, a super affectionate s/o who often shys away when she thinks shes being too clingy? thank u! love ur stuff!! ♡

U are an angle, omg thank uuuu

Also, I know that life, bro. Got long, so it’s under the cut~ 

(...Assuming ‘the cut’ doesn’t decide to not work on mobile. For the fifth time.)

Bubba

He can’t get enough affection ever-- even if he’s mid-kill and you’re like “Bubba, I’m gonna kiss you.” he’ll stop dead in his tracks and get that much needed love from you.

It’s probably not Bubba who makes you feel like you’re being clingy, but his brothers. Drayton and Chop-Top especially: sometimes they can get a little too harsh.

Usually Bubba isn’t one to initiate physical affection, so if you suddenly stop touching him, he'll just be plain confused. 

He’ll follow you around and grab the back of your clothes, but he won’t even imply that he’s asking anything. Even if you ask him “What?” he’ll just stare at you nervously and try to figure out how to show what he wants to ask without embarrassing himself, which usually just ends in you turning away to return to what you were doing.

The thing he struggles the most with initiating is holding hands, funnily enough: he doesn’t mind coming up behind you to hug you or petting your hair (given the right atmosphere), but trying to hold your hand is nerve-wracking for him.

He’ll think you’re upset with him, that maybe he did something wrong and you don’t like him anymore-- like I’ve said before, he’s quick to catastrophize. He’s just like a kicked puppy.

If he can get the nerve, he’ll slip his hand into your’s and just. Wait for you to say something, anything.

Billy+Stu (Ghostface)

Both of these boys are kind of clingy themselves, Stu especially.

Billy is more likely to act cool and collected, but he’s totally freaking out (in a good way) internally. He’ll never complain about you being sweet on him.

It probably grosses out their friends how lovey-dovey you three can be. Billy will tell you to ignore them, Stu will call them jealous-- that’s always how it goes.

Maybe one time Stu pulls away from an embrace too fast or he rushes out of bed and forgets to say anything to the extent of “I’ll be right back, I love you, I’ll miss you” or whatever. Or that happens multiple times in a row. Since Stu is so affectionate in the first place, it’s kind of off-putting when he just. Isn’t affectionate?

Billy gives off a certain vibe. That vibe being “back tf off.” He’s got resting bitch face, so. Ya know.

They won’t notice at first-- it’s a three-person relationship, so it can be a bit hard to pick something up when 2/3 people are acting like usual. The boys are probably just as cuddly as usual too with each other, so. It can certainly feel like being a... Third wheel in a two-person relationship.

They’ll only notice after you cancel two dates in a row, at which point they will more or less force their way into talking with you. These dumbasses will absolutely use the phrase “Can we talk about something?” before pulling you aside to show their genuine concern.

Even if you’re not a crier (God, what’s that like? Is it nice?), they’ll act like you are when you’re explaining why you have been withdrawing your affection. Even if you’re more than emotionally alright by the time the conversation is over, you’ll end up at Stu’s place to be Held(TM).

(Honestly, the boys can be quick to forget what your specific brand of presence+touch is like, so they’re just. In heaven. When you’re being affectionate again.)

Brahms

This boy is touch-starved. He almost melts into any physical attention he gets. He craves attention in general.

It’ll take him a while to notice that you’re not returning his touch. Because he will seriously press himself to you that much. Plus, he has no shame when it comes to asking for affection, though he usually just does it in one word: “hug?” or “kiss.”

(Sidenote: “kiss” is almost always a demand, whereas “hug” is almost always a request.)

He will notice if you start to avoid him. Pretty immediately. After all, it takes conscious effort to do it: going outside more often, shutting and/or locking doors, going into rooms that don’t connect to the crawlspace, etc.

As such, he’ll basically. Talk to you within the day. He doesn’t like being seen when he’s speaking, however, so he’ll ask why you’re avoiding him from outside the closed door of a room you’re in.

He’d be very intentional in every word he says-- in the last several hours this has been happening, he’s been thinking over what exactly to say and he’s wound down from being so annoyed he’s almost angry to genuinely afraid you’re going to leave him. 

Being violent didn’t work with Greta, so he imagines it wouldn’t work with you either-- what worked with Greta was standing outside the door and asking her why she wasn’t following the rules. So that’s what he’ll do with you too.

If you just unlock the door and head back to sit down, he’ll immediately come over and practically envelope you in a hug. First, he’ll move your hands to hold him. If you’re still hesitant about actually touching him, he’ll just say “Please. Hold me.” in the quietest little voice-- his adult voice, which he specifically doesn’t like using.

If he’s having a particularly bad day (as in his behavior is just terrible) or if his first attempt doesn’t convince you, he might just forgo all this and wait until you’re moving between rooms before holding you so tightly it hurts-- which is very much his intention. And he’ll very lowly ask you-- not even in his child voice, which is honestly the main way you know he’s serious and that a situation may be dangerous-- “what exactly is it you think you’re doing?” or something along those lines. Note that he’s holding you so tightly that it’s hard to breathe, so you probably can’t respond either. 

This whole encounter is basically a warning from him-- he’s one entitled little bastard and sometimes it can come from nowhere. He’ll then release his grip and act like nothing happened, then ask for you to hug him-- most likely by stretching his arms out and tilting his head, not actually saying anything verbally.

If you reject him there, he will pause for a second before starting to sob. Whether it’s real or not is up for debate, but he doesn’t exactly know what to do at that point. He doesn’t want to hurt you, frankly-- the thought of getting angry and hurting you scares him.

Hopefully, you’re holding him by now, because otherwise he’s going to be wailing the entire night-- again, whether it’s real or not is up for debate. At worst, he’ll intentionally hurt himself so that you’ll touch him.

[kurowrites]

Snow - Chapter 13

Entire fic. AO3.

Since it’s chapter 13, I’ve prepared something special for y’all. :D

---

Wei Ying sits there for a while with his head in his hands, trying to collect himself. He has just made a complete ass of himself, and as if that isn’t enough, he’s done it in Lan Zhan’s own home. He’s sent Lan Zhan out of his own bedroom. He’d be surprised if Lan Zhan ever wanted to see him again. Couldn’t he have been nice about it, at least.

But maybe it’s better like that. This is the perfect moment to end whatever relationship they have, learn some lessons, and go back to their lives before it all happened. No, it’s even better than that. Because now, Lan Zhan doesn’t have to worry and feel guilty about Wei Ying anymore, and he’s finally able to get those rabbits he’s been wanting since he was a child. It all works out perfectly.

Wei Ying feels a stab of guilt. He promised Lan Zhan to help him with picking the rabbits.

Oh no, what a thought in retrospective! The person who has been keeping Lan Zhan from getting the rabbits offering him help to pick them out! He wonders just how many times he’s inadvertently hurt Lan Zhan because he didn’t know. About anything.

He really should leave. The sooner, the better. He doesn’t want to face Lan Zhan again, and he certainly doesn’t want to face Lan Huan. He doesn’t want to think about what Lan Huan thinks about him now.

The thought comes too late, however. The door opens, and there stands – Lan Zhan, with a large mug in his hands. He doesn’t look at Wei Ying, not directly, but he enters the room and walks straight to Wei Ying’s bedside. He makes sure Wei Ying is sat up properly, with a pillow at his back so he’s sitting comfortable, and then hands him the mug with hot tea.

“Drink,” he only says.

Wei Ying quietly wonders if Lan Zhan is trying to poison him in retribution for all the hurt he’s caused, but he raises the mug to his lips and drinks, anyway. The tea has the perfect temperature, and the taste of it is smooth and calming, because like everything else, Lan Zhan excels at brewing tea. The warmth of the beverage loosens the knot in his chest slightly. No painful death for Wei Ying, then. Not yet.

After all, Lan Zhan is here, and he isn’t throwing him out on his ear like he really should. It’s reassuring in a way Wei Ying really doesn’t deserve. Lan Zhan should be angry at him, if anything. Not brewing him tea.

“Have you calmed down?” Lan Zhan asks after he’s drunk half of the tea. “Are you ready to listen?”

Wei Ying lifts his eyes from his tea in confusion. Listen to what? Everything that needs to be said has been said, he thinks.

But Lan Zhan still isn’t looking at him.

“Do you have any idea,” he asks, “how I felt?”

“You said it before, no?” Wei Ying replies, still confused. He isn’t sure what’s happening right now. What exactly Lan Zhan is trying to imply. “You were shocked when you saw me at the bus station. And you felt guilty.”

But Lan Wangji shakes his head.

“I said ‘How could I not take care of you, after all that has happened?’” he says. “Have I not taken care of you before? Even when you were being a brat about it, arguing with me that a slightly squashed peach does not constitute theft.”

Wei Ying tries to object to that, but Lan Zhan quells his protest with a single look. He closes his mouth and lets Lan Zhan go on.

“There was never a feeling of guilt needed for me to want to take care of you. I would have done it even if we had parted amicably.”

Wei Ying has finished his tea, and Lan Zhan takes the mug out of his hands and places it on the sideboard. And this time, he looks at Wei Ying directly.

“Do you have any idea, Wei Ying,” he asks again, “how I felt?”

“No,” Wei Ying whispers. He can only be honest, now. He has no idea how Lan Zhan has felt – is feeling – any longer.

He crushes the bedcovers in his hands. This is all so confusing. What is Lan Zhan trying to say? Why does he want Wei Ying to know?

Lan Zhan reaches out and gently peels his fingers off the no doubt expensive silken fabric, one by one.

“The person that I thought I lost so many years ago unexpectedly returned to my side,” Lan Zhan says as he does so. “I will not lie – I was gratified that I was able to take care of you once again. I was happy to finally be able to do what I was unable to do back then. It was selfish of me, perhaps, to feel that way, but I will not lie about it. But even more than that… do you have any idea what I saw? The last time I had seen you, you were living on the streets, malnourished and evidently neglected. And now that I had found you again – you looked good. Healthy, once you had recovered from your fever. Your memory of me seemed to be gone, but… You seemed happy, Wei Ying. Do you understand what that meant to me? I left you at your lowest point, and you returned as a healthy, happy adult. And you looked at me with affection, with playfulness, with desire. I–”

He is holding Wei Ying’s hands in his own now, squeezing them. With surprise, Wei Ying notices that there are actual tears in Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“You were whole, Wei Ying. Your suffering was gone. To me, you shone brighter than any star in the night sky. This was the very person I had hoped to see one day, all those years ago. I wanted to do everything in my power to keep it that way. If you didn’t remember all those terrible things from back then, how could I be the person to remind you of these things? How could I justify causing you pain, again? You have moved so far beyond everything I have hoped for you. You are so much better now. I wanted to protect that, and give you every chance to flourish even more. And I had fallen in love with you once. It needed nothing more than a touch and a smile for it to blossom into something deeper. How could I resist you, when you had finally returned to me? How could I not want you? You, who are everything?”

Wei Ying is speechless. Is Lan Zhan– is Lan Zhan actually telling him that he’s in love with Wei Ying? That he wanted him, desired him all along? Did that just come out of his mouth? He must be gaping at Lan Zhan, and it must all be rather unseemly, but he can’t help it. He’s currently trying to remember how to process words. He cannot be blamed from looking like a fish out of water right now.

“Lan Zhan, I–” he stutters. “Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan–”

He takes a deep breath. Tries to centre himself, and fails.

You were whole, Wei Ying.

Oh, Lan Zhan, Wei Ying thinks to himself. How wrong you are. I was breaking to pieces all the while.

He takes another deep breath, and then looks Lan Zhan in the eyes with determination.

“You should have told me.”

He reaches forward and flicks him into the forehead with his fingers. Lan Zhan jerks back, surprised.

“You stupid, stupid man!” he cries. “How are we supposed to get anything right if we’re not seeing eye to eye? What pain, what selfishness, Lan Zhan? I don’t care about the pain! But I care about knowing that you’re that Wangji! I thought the entire time that you see me as nothing more than a sugar baby!”

This time, it’s Lan Zhan’s turn to stare in shock.

“No,” he says eventually, empathically. “No, Wei Ying, I would never–”

“I know that now,” Wei Ying sighs, and he takes Lan Zhan’s hands again and squeezes them. “I know that now, Lan Zhan.”

Both of them fall silent for a moment, staring at their joined hands. It still feels right, somehow, even now, when everything is brittle and cracking.  

“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan,” Wie Ying says, eventually. “I want to take it all back. I’ve said so many awful things and I didn’t even mean them. I didn’t mean them, believe me. It’s me who was selfish, trying to protect myself by hurting you. If I take it back… can I have a hug, please?”

He’s just exhausted right now, and he wants some kind of comfort. And if Lan Zhan really loves him, then he can’t possibly mind hugging Wei Ying… right?

He’s suddenly attacked with a wave of insecurity. What if he got it all wrong? What if Lan Zhan just said that to clear everything up between the two of them, before he finally lets him go? What if–

But then Lan Zhan moves closer to him and leans in, and a moment later, his arms wrap tightly around Wei Ying, holding him fast.

“I am sorry, too, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replies. “I only wanted to keep you safe and happy. Instead, I caused you pain.”

“You fool,” Wei Ying says, but it’s not said meanly. He smiles into Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “When I’m with you, I’m always safe and happy, aren’t I? You are allowed to tell me about things that distress or concern you. In fact, you should. You are required to! I’ll be fine! I’m not that delicate! I’m a real workhorse! I’ve gone through worse. You should now that!”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agrees. “Wei Ying is strong. But then, Wei Ying has to do the same.”

Ack, he walked right into that one, didn’t he?

Wei Ying sighs. He can only acquiesce here, can he?

“I promise. And while we’re at it, I reserve the right to challenge your uncle to a fist fight. He kinda deserves it, you know.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lan Zhan assures him. “I will speak to him personally.”

Wei Ying doesn’t debate it, but secretly, he decides he’ll simply have to do it when Lan Zhan isn’t looking. There’s just no way he’s going to let that slip.

They fall silent again, and Wei Ying does his best to melt into Lan Zhan. There are things he should do and say, but he really doesn’t have the energy for it right now.

Lan Zhan likes him. Lan Zhan told him he likes Wei Ying.

“Do you really like me, Lan Zhan?” he asks. He needs the confirmation, just once more.

“Hn.”

“Do you love me?”

“Hn.”

“That’s good, then. ‘Cause I love you, too.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t reply, but the arms around Wei Ying hold him tighter, and there it is – a kiss pressed his temple.

It’s Lan Zhan’s way of telling him he loves him, Wei Ying realizes. He’s been doing it for such a long time. He’s probably wanting to do it for an even longer time.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, eventually, once he’s swallowed back the tears. “Tell me about the rabbits.”

Lan Zhan does.

---

As nice as it would be, they cannot keep hiding away in Lan Zhan’s bedroom for the rest of the day. Lan Huan is still there, no doubt still waiting for them. And the food that Lan Zhan prepared is still there, as well, waiting to be eaten. Indeed, Wei Ying is starting to feel rather peckish.

“The food is no problem,” Lan Zhan assures Wei Ying as they leave the bedroom. “I can reheat most of it.”

They find Lan Huan waiting for them in the dining room. He looks up from the book he’s been reading as they enter, and smiles up at them as if he hasn’t been made to wait for the continuation of his meal for at least two hours.

“You’ve returned! Have you managed to resolve your misunderstanding?”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan says decisively, guiding Wei Ying to his seat. “I will reheat the food.”

Lan Huan waits until Lan Zhan is out of the room before he gives Wei Ying another smile.

“That’s good, then. I’m very relieved. Just remember that next time you hurt my brother, I might not be inclined to sit by and look on.”

Wei Ying sends him a considering glance. Those are harsh words from a man like Lan Huan.

“There won’t be a next time,” he replies with conviction.

Well, if he’s honest, he still can’t quite bring himself to believe that Lan Zhan could truly want him, not as a sugar baby, but as an actual lover. Partner. Whatever. The sheer thought, the presumption is too great for him to really be able to believe it. The doubtful voice in his head is still there, hammering away at his confidence. But if he can’t trust himself, he can trust Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan wouldn’t have said all that if he hadn’t meant it. He wouldn’t have committed everything to Wei Ying if he wasn’t sure about it.

He can trust Lan Zhan.

And Lan Zhan evidently chose him years ago.

Lan Huan seems to be able to read Wei Ying’s determination for what it is, because his smile grows bigger and more genuinely happy.

“Excellent. I wish you all the best.”

 Lan Zhan returns with the warm food, and this time, they have a pretty good time decimating the food without any sudden revelations of a traumatic past.

Wei Ying keeps looking over to Lan Zhan, trying to make sure that Lan Zhan is still there and hasn’t suddenly changed his mind about Wei Ying. Isn’t going to chuck him out onto the street, anyway.

But every time Wei Ying looks over, Lan Zhan is already looking back at him, and there’s a small smile on his face that never wanes. Wei Ying could melt.

Lan Zhan must really like him a great, great deal.

I love you, he mouths to Lan Zhan, and laughs a little when Lan Zhan’s ears turn red.

So he does it again and again, delighting in Lan Zhan’s steadily spreading blush, until Lan Huan delicately clears his throat and sends both of them a look.

“Hehehe,” Wei Ying laughs, because he has no shame. “You can’t blame me, Lan Huan. After all, your brother is the best.”

[gaylotusthatexists]

hidden

pairing: moxiety

summary: Virgil has been in a relationship with Patton for a month now, but isn’t sure how much longer he can keep it up whilst closeted.

trigger warnings: implied homophobia, talks of breaking up, please let me know if i need to add anything

word count: 1489

a/n: it’s day fourteen of pride month!!! today’s prompt was ‘boundaries’. i had a lot of fun with this one tbh, and i’m just a little bit sorry but i hope y’all enjoy!!!

ao3

Virgil had been with Patton for a month now, and things were... okay. He was still trying to settle into it. This was his first boyfriend, and, whilst Patton was certainly more experienced, having been in a few relationships himself, they were still trying to figure things out between them. Virgil loved Patton, he really did - he'd known that way before they were even dating, back when he could only ever see them as friends, even Patton knew that Virgil loved him back then. But dating was different than just being friends, and Virgil wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep this up.

Patton was very physical, he always had been, and he was loud and wanted everyone to know just how much Virgil meant to him. And that was fine, it wasn't much different to when they were just friends, but... Virgil was still scared, sort of. He didn't know how any of this worked, didn't know how to give back to Patton, didn't like the way that people were always staring at him. He knew they probably weren't, knew that he was just paranoid, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that every time Patton brushed against him, every time they held hand, every time they embraced, they were being watched.

It didn't help that Virgil was still very much closeted. Of course, Patton knew, and so did a few of Patton's friends, but Virgil's (all straight, as far as he was aware) friend group had no idea, and neither did his family. Coming out to any of them seemed like a daunting task - he imagined his friends wouldn't care that much, although they did occasionally make 'jokes' that were, well, jokes that didn't exactly give Virgil much faith. And then his family... He couldn't come out to them, not yet, he was terrified that it would go terribly wrong, and he knew his parents feelings about the queer community, and...

He breathed in and out as he walked down the hall, hand in hand with Patton, on their way out the building. A Friday afternoon, the end of the week. The two would usually hang out in the local park on a Friday, as both of Virgil's parents worked late and Patton's younger sister’s friends always went round to his house. What Virgil hadn't been expecting that day was for his other friends to be waiting outside the building for him.

"Virgil!" one said, hopping down from the steps and walking besides him. "You coming to the party tonight?"

Virgil let go of Patton's hand, wiping it against his jeans. "Not tonight, sorry," he mumbled.

His friend seemed disappointed. "Why not?"

"I, um, kinda already have plans?" he said, motioning his head towards Patton, who awkwardly waved at his friend.

"Who's this?"

"This is Patton," Virgil introduced. "We're, uh, we have a science project together." They weren't even in the same science class, but his friend didn't know that. Virgil had to think of some excuse.

"Oh." His friend hummed. "Well, I'll text you tomorrow, yeah? Think we're heading down into town, you should come with."

"Y-Yeah, definitely." Virgil nodded. "Just let me know what's happening."

"Yup." His friend smiled. "See ya!" He walked off, joining Virgil's other friends again. Once Patton and Virgil had left the school gate and turned the corner, he let out a breath.

"Sorry," he said, talking Patton's hand again. "I, um..."

"Why did you tell him we're working on a science project together?" Patton asked, innocently.

"I, uh..." Virgil tapped his fingers on his leg. "He doesn't know."

"You could just tell him we're dating," Patton said.

"No, I- He doesn't know that I'm..." He trailed off.

After a few moments of silence, Patton let out, "Oh."

"Yeah." They turned into a park, going to sit on their usual bench.

"Are you planning on telling them?" Patton asked, after a while.

"Not really."

"Oh."

Silence again. Virgil breathed in. Patton seemed to get the idea that Virgil wasn't going to speak anymore. He nuzzled into Virgil's side, as he usually did, and for a moment Virgil relaxed. He felt, for a moment, like the world wasn't watching him, like he could just be himself and nobody would care.

But then he remembered his friend staring at Patton, confused, concerned. He must have seen them holding hands when they walked out the school. What if he'd followed them? What if he was that desperate to know what was going on that he was spying on them now? What if he knew that they were a thing, what would happen to Virgil? Would he be kicked out the friend group? Would he tell his parents? Would he tell the whole school?

Patton kissed Virgil's cheek, and Virgil scooted away, trying not to look at the confused, slightly hurt look on Patton's face.

"I can't do this," Virgil whispered, trying to get his heart rate under control. He knew he probably wasn't being watched, but didn't even want to risk it. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, how much longer he could stay hidden when all he wanted to do was hold Patton, allow Patton to show his affection, but he couldn't let go of the anxiety surrounding everything, the fear pulling him down deeper and deeper.

"Can't do what?" Patton asked, moving closer again.

Virgil turned away. He didn't want to look at Patton, couldn't look at Patton when he said this. "This. I... I can't do us. I'm scared, every second of my existence, that one day the wrong person will find out and everything will turn to shit. And I... You don't deserve that. You deserve someone who isn't afraid of the world knowing what goes on between you and them."

Silence, lasting much longer than Virgil was comfortable with. He felt like he could cry. He didn't want to, didn't want Patton to think he was upset, didn't want to hurt Patton. But maybe there was no other way out of this.

"You're not... You're not breaking up with me, are you?"

Virgil could feel himself shaking, and maybe he was going to cry. Brilliant. "I... I don't want to," he admitted, "but... we might have to. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and part of him wanted to swipe it away but the other part was just happy for human contact, for warmth, and for a moment his shaking calmed down.

"Is this because you aren't out?" Patton asked. "Because, really, there's no pressure for you to come out, if you aren't ready or if it isn't safe, or..."

Virgil breathed in and out. "I do want to stay with you," he promised. "I just... I just think that it's better for both of us if we..."

"Virgil," Patton said, moving closer again and trying to twist his body around to look Virgil in the eyes. "If... If there's anything I can do at all to help you feel safe in this relationship, you can tell me, y'know?" He smiled, softly, and Virgil melted. He loved Patton's smile. "I know I can be a little much sometimes, so... just tell me, okay? We can work out some boundaries if it makes you feel more comfortable. I don't mind staying hidden, I just... I want to be with you."

Virgil stared at Patton for a while longer, unsure what to do. He didn't want to have to leave Patton, but he also didn't want to be hard work, didn't want to have to force Patton to stop doing everything that he wanted to. Patton deserved so much better than Virgil. But...

"Please, Virgil," Patton said, quietly. "Just tell me, whatever I have to do. I'll do it. I want you to feel safe."

Virgil breathed in. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Virgil." Patton took his hands, squeezing them tight. "Whatever will make you feel comfortable, just tell me."

Virgil's eyes drifted to the ground. "Public affection is a little much, sometimes," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't mind in private, do whatever you want in private, but... when there are people around, especially in school, I'd rather you not touch me constantly. Short hugs are fine, and hand holding is okay sometimes, but... kisses and cuddles are..."

Patton nodded. "I get it, Virgil. I understand."

The tips of Virgil's lips tilted up. "Are you sure this is...?"

"It's okay, Virgil," Patton said, smiling. "We don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, yeah?"

Virgil smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks."

They stared at each other a moment longer, before Patton hummed. "How about we go back to my house? No one will see us there."

Virgil nodded, a little too quickly. "Yes. Yes, yeah that'd be good."

"I love you, y'know?"

"Yeah. I love you too, Pat."

[unsympathetic-core-sides]

14. “You’re safe here, I keep you safe! What else could you want?” (I hope you are doing better)

Yeah, I am doing better now, thanks! This is 1460 words, and Im actually kinda proud of it! Here you go, hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Unsympathetic Roman, victim Patton, possessiveness, ghosting, implied abuse, abuse, implied murder, kidnapping, drugging (?). Just ask if you want anything else tagged!

Patton was your regular secondary school student. He got good enough grades, he had a big group of friends, he was in the art club, he helped out at the community theatre on the weekends, and he did volleyball three times a week. Perfectly regular life. Sure he got sad sometimes, and sometimes he didn’t want to get up in the mornings, but his family was always there to help him in those moments, so it wasn’t a big deal. 

During those weekends he helped out at the theatre, he met tons of new people. One of those people was a very talented boy called Roman Regal. Roman was always the lead and was pretty popular, everyone at least knew OF him. Recently there had been some disgusting rumors about his past relationships, but Patton was sure it was just rumors! After all Roman seemed so nice!

All of Patton’s friends said he was naive to believe that Roman was truly just misunderstood, and not the monster that people have claimed he is. But, if anything serious happened, Roman would have been punished. Right?

So when Roman started trying to get closer to Patton, Patton didn’t think it was weird and surprisingly, they hit it off right away! Roman was really charming and made Patton feel so special, it didn’t take much for Roman to convince Patton to give him his phone number. Over the course of as couple weeks, they started texting more and more, until eventually they were texting every day. Then they were calling every day. Then they were hanging out constantly.

It wasn’t weird! Patton was simply hanging out with his crush. Patton’s friends were becoming more and more convinced that Roman was a good guy and that those rumors were false. 

He was nice and kind, he bought Patton gifts and always tried to include people. He seemed perfect, and it didn’t feel fake. So everyone in that group started trusting him more and more, until he was just part of the group, and it felt like he has been there since forever ago.

And then Roman asked him out.

And then Patton said yes.

All was well for a while. Roman and Patton’s friends were getting along well. Everyone was happy.

At least, until the incident.

They were hanging out at Patton’s. They were home alone. Roman was angry that day. Patton was not the target of his anger, he just got caught in the crossfire. 

“How dare he talk to me like that?! I’m the best actor he has! I don’t deserve to be treated like garbage, like trash! I am the best thing that has happened to that theatre!” He went off on one of his usual rants about how he was being mistreated while pacing the room. Patton never saw anybody being rude to Roman, but he trusted him that something must be happening. 

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re not, well, um, a little, overexaggerating?” Patton asked cautiously during a break in the rant.

 He regretted it instantly when he saw Roman’s shocked expression. Roman’s dark green eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Roman scoffed and his fists curled.

“What? Do you not believe? Do you not trust me?” Roman questioned him, looking him up and down as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

Patton lowered his head and started playing with the sleeve of his baby blue sweater. “No, I just never saw anybody acting, like…that… and I’m just wondering. It’s not that I   trust you…”

“Fine. I believe you.” Those words felt in genuine and mocking. Roman glanced down at his watch and shook his head. “Whatever. I need to go anyway, I’ve got…homework to do.” It felt like that was a lie but Patton didn’t want to point it out.

“Oh. Are you sure? You could do it here?” Patton stood up, watching Roman pack up his school bag and get ready to leave. 

Roman rolled his eyes “No. I’ll be good. See ya.” He was already closing the door by the time Patton opened his mouth to say bye.

And so Patton was left standing alone in his house at 5:30 on a Thursday with nothing to do.

Over the course of the next few days, Patton tried to text and call Roman constantly, but he never replied, and Patton was pretty sure he was avoiding him as well. He wasn’t really sure why, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Patton was really starting to worry. He had asked Logan and Virgil, if either of them had talked to him, but neither of them had.

By Wednesday, Patton was staring to feel the worry start affecting him more, he couldn’t sleep and had eye bags he had to cover with makeup every morning, he started biting his nails again after not biting them for 2 years, and he had started paying less attention in class. Was Roman even at school? He didn’t share any classes with him, so he didn’t know if he was in. On the weekend Roman wasn’t at the theatre either. Roman never missed rehearsals, not even when he was sick.

Logan and Virgil tried to assure him that he was probably just sick, and at home resting. 

Patton was still worried however and that day, after school, he went to Roman’s house to see if he was alright.

He stood in front of the door, he didn’t hear anything inside, and he was worried that maybe he was just overreacting, being possessive or something. Roman had mentioned a time or two that he could be a bit controlling, maybe he was right. But then again, better safe than sorry, right? 

He knocked on the door.

The door opened.

And there he was. Roman Regal, looking perfectly normal. Not sick. Not away somewhere.

“Patton! Darling, how are you? What are you doing here, my angel?” He said, smiling brightly at him, as if he was the only good thing in the world.

“I was worried about you Ro! You didn’t answer my calls or anything for nearly a week! I was scared that something had happened!” Patton jumped at him, hugging him with all his might. Roman laughed at Pat’s antics.

“Aww. Darling, don’t worry about me, I just needed some time. Now come on in! Let’s hang out, huh?” Roman pulled Patton in and closed the door, before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Patton smiled. Of course there was nothing to be worried about. Roman was perfectly safe and nothing was amiss. He was just being paranoid. They walked into the living room and sat down, Roman started talking about what they should, and Patton finally could clearly focus on Roman’s face, which unlike the usual clean perfection, had spots of dirt on it. Which shouldn’t be suspicious but there was something uncanny about it. 

Now that Patton was paying attention, there was something uncanny about all of this. Like, where were Roman’s parents and his brother, they should be home, but it was silent. Then he noticed the open back door, and the dirty shovel propping it open.

It seemed that Roman had noticed Patton’s distress because he paused for a moment. “Are you okay, my angel? Something wrong?” He put his hand on Patton’s face, stroking it lightly.

“No. Its just that, well, where is your family, Ro?” Patton looked into Roman’s eyes and felt himself become even more uncomfortable.

“Nowhere you would need to worry about. You’re safe here, I’ll keep you safe. What else could you want, sweetie?” His hand ventured higher, and he started stroking Patton’s dark brown curls. Roman’s breath seemed to become heavier. “As long as you’re a good boy, nothing will harm you okay?” Roman tugged on his hair, pulling Patton closer, “Okay?” It was more forceful than before.

“What? Roman, that hurt and you’re creeping me out. Can you please let me go?” Patton tried to pull himself out of Roman’s grip, but it held strong.

“No. Say that you’ll be a good little boy. Now.” Roman’s smile never left his face, but something in his eyes flickered and broke, like an illusion finally melting away and revealing a monster’s true form. He tugged harder.

Tears built up in Patton’s eyes. “Okay! Okay, Ill, um, I’ll be a good boy…” Patton gulped as he said, feeling gross about saying it.

Suddenly Roman tugged sharply and threw Patton on the floor, standing up above him, and then pulling something out of his pocket. Patton wasn’t able to catch a good luck before it was shoved in his neck, and he slowly faded away into a deep sleep.

When Patton woke up, he wasn’t the same person anymore, and he would never be again.

[jack-kellys]

thank u, next

CHAPTER THREE HAS ARRIVED IN THEATERS AT LAST THAnks tumblr for literally melting down yikes

sorry I’ve been RIDICULOUSLY MIA guys requests are coming soon after this :)

—————

chapters one (x) and two (x)

warnings: cursing, implied past NSFW things, death mention

words: 1800+ sorry not as much as I’d HOPED

—————

Three

Race woke up happy, which was bad.

That hadn’t happened in a century.

He was also tangled in someone’s warm arms and laying against someone’s tanned chest, which happened a lot, but the fact that Race regretted it in a different kind of way this time was definitely a strange feeling. And bad.

“Mornin’,” said the someone, voice groggy.

Race shifted slightly, looking at Al’s face.

This poor, poor boy.

The first thing Race noticed were his eyes—unfocused and cloudy with something, but content. His cheeks were a bit more flushed than normal, too. Al looked hazy so say the least, but he was smiling through it.

Guilt crashed down onto Race and he curled back into Albert’s chest, unable to meet his eyes. Al didn't deserve this. He wished he hadn’t gotten involved, wish he never stepped through that door.

But now here Al was anyway, much to Race’s dismay. The first person he truly felt bad for, despite the hundreds before him.

Over his years, Race had learned that most people weren’t…good. Most people had an edge to them, or such a lack thereof that they turned uninteresting, and nearly everyone he had come across were never a good balance of the two. And then Al happened. Race didn’t understand. His streak had suddenly broke like that, his heart was suddenly beating like that, he suddenly wanted to touch someone like that. Albert somehow made him want to try and be more of himself, more real, more honest, just like that.

“Hey, Albie, I...should tell you something—important—about me,” Race said quietly into Al’s chest, tracing down his side to distract his racing mind.

“Does this important something require pants?” Al sighed, starting to untangle himself from Race, who couldn’t help huffing out a slight giggle.

“No, I guess not, but get ‘em anyway,” Race shrugged, lugging himself out of the bed to put his own back on too, then flopping back down face-first.

He couldn’t just...tell Albert, right? Not everything at least. There would probably be some consequence for that. He mumbled into the mattress instead, opting for stalling, before Al moved Race into his lap.

“What’s wrong, Race? Actually,” Albert added, his expression much clearer than it was before. His brown eyes were sharp and worried instead of dazed and dreamy. They flitted around Race’s face, almost protectively, and Race could tell that it was instinct and not just Race’s effect. That made him a little more comfortable.

“It’s just really, really weird, okay? Like nothing you’ve heard before,” Race mumbled.

“Then out with it,” Al urged. “It’s easier to just get it out of you than to just sit with it, I swear. I won’t judge you or nothin’.”

“But you will. You’ll kinda have to.”

“But I won’t.”

“Well, you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” Race burst, “because—because I’m not…” He took a deep breath.

“I’m not like you, on a metaphysical level. Meaning, like, um…”

Al’s expression had turned slightly confused and only more worried. Race let out a short sigh.

“I’m not technically a person. A human. Anymore. Ya know?”

Race shrunk down at his own confession, not meeting Al’s intense gaze. He was putting pieces together, Race could tell.

“So, what, you’re like dead or somethin’?” Al said after a minute. Then he gasped lightly. “Race, I better not’ve committed necrophilia, oh my god, Race, this might be bad, like really bad, god...” Al’s voice grew slightly frantic, pulling himself away from Race.

“Al, hey, wait…” Race tried, but Al had drawn back, muttering ‘I just fucked a ghost’ over a few times. Race rolled his eyes and grabbed onto Albert’s hands, locking eyes with him.

“You didn’t just fuck a ghost, okay?” Race said, saying his words slowly.

“I didn’t?” Albert’s eyes were wide, and a little scared. Race winced.

“No, you didn’t. I’m not dead—anymore. Just, um, lemme explain.”

After a beat, Albert nodded slightly, looking at Race expectantly.

Oh, shit. Obviously he had to follow through. Race let himself think a moment before speaking again.

“So, um, all the way back in the late 1800s, my mom brought me and my siblings here from Italy. That apartment—when it was a tenement, I mean—was where we lived for a while. But it was really shitty, and gross, you know. Our landlord didn’t give a shit, just like everyone else. The city was really disgusting then—and now, but then was...real bad, Al. And so I got sick. And died.”

Race watched Al rest his chin in his hand, contemplating the first part of Race’s history. Race couldn’t read his expression, which was new.

“No, keep going,” Al murmured with a nod. “Can’t just stop there, right?”

He smiled, which made Race smile. “Right.

“So I died in, uh, that apartment. But my mom was...kind of a witch by today’s definition. And she put this spell on my, like, body, is what I gather. So when she died, I would be revived, and generally haunt this area. Specifically the apartment.”

Albert nodded, not speaking for a few moments. He was taking this surprisingly well for just some guy, Race thought.

“But we’re at your apartment. You own your own apartment…” Albert trailed off for a second. “Are you not... tied to the other apartment? Metaphorically?”

Race shrugged. “Haven’t really thought of it that way. Uh, I guess...only...a little, ‘cause I’ve been the realtor since...yeah. I kind of still don’t know what the hell I am, since this was all done to me when I was...dead,” Race said quietly.

“Right, yeah. Sorry,” Al added. “This just ain’t usual ghost stuff as far as I know. So we can rule that out.”

“Yeah, we can rule that out,” Race laughed softly.

“One thing doesn’t make sense—or, well. Makes less sense than the rest of this,” Al said, unsure of his words and unknowing of Race’s heart slamming against his chest as he said those words. “Why would your mom do that? Why not just bring you back to life so you could be with your family?” Albert’s nose was slightly scrunched in thought, his gaze lowered. Race could tell he was thinking; maybe too much thinking.

Race bit his lip. He knew why his mother had done this to him, but there wasn’t any way in hell he was saying that.

Quick, Race, c’mon.

“Maybe I’m here to make sure...” Race briefly lost his thought before grabbing hold of the lie again. “To make sure that anyone who buys that place doesn’t end up like me?”

Al’s eyebrow raised at Race’s inflection. “Ain’t you sure?” he asked Race.

Al looked alarmingly skeptical, making Race irritatingly nervous. He still wasn’t used to feeling outdone, not used to others feeling unimpressed by him; even if Al normally was impressed, he did have moments when he doubted things too much.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Race nodded, Albert’s expression still remaining.

“You realize that implies that anyone who buys that apartment would die, right? Without you?”

“Yeah, yeah, the place was probably cursed before me and my family moved into it,” Race tried to clarify. “I’m like a blockade. Against it.”

But Al’s expression only furrowed further. “Well, then that implies that...that supernatural people before your mom occupied that building, which...I have trouble wrapping my head around,” Al sighed. “Like, okay, whatever, you’re a mix between zombie and reincarnation, sure—long as I didn’t commit necrophilia. But the weirdest thing to me is that your mom wouldn’t just bring you back to life in your time, and instead make you stay behind for...who knows how long. You’re her family, I just…the motive is wacked out. It’s not a good enough reason to leave her own son behind...” Albert thought out loud, then he flinched at his words and muttered an apology.

Race scoffed, heart hammering. “Thought you said you were a physics major, not an investigative journalist.”

“It just so happens,” Albert said, raising his eyebrow again, “that I took a course in legal studies ‘cause my friend dared me too, and paranormal stuff was kind of, like, my shit.”

“Really,” Race said, pulling at his hands nervously.

“Yeah. Really. I don't wanna push anything, but there's definitely something you ain't telling me,” Al said quietly, his serious expression unwavering. “Don’t worry—I get it, a lot, I’m just telling you that I can tell somethin’s up.”

Race’s eyes narrowed, pulled back into business mode. He shouldn’t have told Al anything, he was too smart. Race had to control this—control him.

Race reluctantly crawled forward, Albert glancing up and down at him looking like he wanted to say something. Race sat himself right in front of Al, then placed his index and middle fingers on Albert’s temple, his ring and pinkie fingers on the corner of his jaw, and rested his thumb on his cheek, Race biting down hard on his own lip to will himself to keep to it, to stay strong.

This was just business. Always business.

“Race, what are you…” Al said, trailing off and gazing at the position of Race’s hand.

Race leaned towards Albert’s ear. “You will accept my words and only think desperately of me, my love,” he whispered faintly, kissing beneath Al’s ear gently before pulling away, feeling like his insides were eating away at themselves.

Race had always hated this part before, but it was even worse with Albert.

Al’s face had slackened, his expression an empty page on which Race had just written instructions. His eyes were glazed over, and he stared straight ahead at nothing. Race knew that the only thought running circles through Albert’s head was Race’s sickening, sweet-toned command.

“I will accept your words,” Albert murmured, his voice like a recording, head swaying slightly from the trance, “and only think desperately of you, my love.”

“Thank you, my heart,” Race choked out before removing his hand and throwing his arms around Al, crying into his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He cried for a small while, only quieting himself when he felt Al’s arms wrap around him.

“It’s okay, Race, oh,” Albert mumbled, “I just spaced for a sec, I’m sorry. You’re okay, it’s okay.” He kissed Race’s hair, rubbing his hand up and down his back.

“I just dumped all that onto you, I don’t know why, it-it just made me feel worse..” Race breathed, closing his eyes and putting his head into the crook of Al’s neck. “I’m so sorry, you don’t even know…”

Albert shook his head gently, placing a kiss on the back of Race’s neck. “I could never be mad at you, y’know that?” Al said softly, only causing Race’s heart to break even further. “You had to let that out. It’s heavy stuff, you don’t wanna keep that inside. All I ever wanna do is help you…”

Race tore himself away a moment to look Al in the face. His concern looked so honest and real that Race nearly started sobbing again. Al’s eyebrows were scrunched together in a grimace, but smiling through it, trying to reassure Race. After all, his brain was telling him that that was his only job.

“You’re too good,” Race whispered. “So, so good.”

Albert smiled shyly, but shook his head again. He gently kissed Race’s cheek, pausing briefly before continuing lazily onto and down his neck. Race couldn’t help leaning into it.

“No one could ever be good enough for you,” Al mumbled over Race’s skin, glancing up for a moment. There was that cloudy look again.

“You’re perfect, Race.”

Race didn’t resist as Albert pulled him into his lap for a tighter embrace. There wasn’t any way Al’s arms could be more crushing than this guilt was coming to be.

And Race wished it couldn’t be any worse than it was right then. But after so much time, he knew.

Of course it would be.

It always got worse.

————

some tea huh. anYWAY IM BACK SORRY EEK

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[fictioninmyblood]

Protector of Her Heart

Chapter Four

Note: I am new to writing fanfic (this is my first one). I welcome constructive criticism as well as pointers and tips for bettering my blog. Thank you for reading :) Also, I am sorry I took so long to post this. Thank you for understanding.

Summary: Elinora is an empath’s version of Professor X, only a lot more powerful. She is an enhanced human with the ability to read the world’s emotions. Nick Fury has welcomed her into the fold, but with a fear of herself she has been quite reserved. A forced bonding night with the newly discovered Wakandan royalty brings her out of the shadows of fear and into the light of lust.

Warning: some language, implied smut, 18+

Ingcuka - white wolf

Ndiyazi ukuba uyothuka, kodwa nceda ungahambi. Andiyi kukulimaza. - I know you're scared, but please do not go. I will not hurt you.

umfana wam omncinane - my little warrior

Previous Chapter

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Three days. Three fucking days! If he ever got his hands on her she was definitely going to get a spanking. This woman was driving him up a wall with her antics. For the first day he was beside himself with worry since he could not feel her emotions anymore. Whatever connection they had started to create was gone when he awoke. So he resorted to basically stalking her bedroom door, always checking up on her despite the lack of response when he knocked and the fact that she never came out of the damn room. On the second day, he felt relief at her being alive since Natasha had reassured him that she was just back to avoiding everybody. Now he was just purely frustrated and angry at her for denying him the one thing he craved.

T’Challa found M’Baku pacing in the kitchen with determined strides mumbling to himself.

“I must presume with the way you are still going about that she has not graced us with her presence yet.”

M’Baku stopped pacing momentarily to look at the king and grunt in acknowledgement.

“You know, I understand what you are going through maybe I can help.”

“I will figure this out on my own.”

“Suit yourself.”

James walked in catching the conversation, hesitating slightly in his decision.

“Listen, I probably shouldn’t tell you this since she would most likely see this as a betrayal of trust, but I think I know a way for you to get to her.”

M’Baku perked up at those words, giving James his undivided attention.

“I would greatly appreciate any opportunity to speak with her again.”

T’Challa butt in earning himself a glare that could melt the polar caps, “Are sure ingcuka?”

“Well, I kinda know what she is going through, she doesn’t see herself like we do. She thinks she is cursed and HE is the first person to reach her and really connect. I am not going to ignore that, especially since she needs the love and affection he is offering.”

“But you are probably the only one in your group she even talks to. You would give that up for this stranger?”

“T’Challa, if you do not cease your meddling I will crush you.”

“You can’t just force yourself on the girl, it needs to happen naturally. There is always another way, especially in the face of destroying what little she has in the way of relationships.”

“Is that your offer to put our lives and timetable on hold so that we can allow things to happen naturally?”

At T’Challa’s sigh of defeat, “I thought not.”

In light of his very valid points, James gave him the one secret she had yet to disclose with anyone else, “If you want to see her, tonight would be the best opportunity. For one she is a serious night owl so seeing her during the day is a rarity. And two, she loves the rain, there is a thunderstorm coming and she usually goes out in them.”

“How do you get her to tell you things like this?”

“Well, she didn’t exactly tell me. I have trouble sleeping sometimes too and I found her dancing out in the middle of a storm a couple of weeks ago. After some coercing, she explained that it helps her feel calm and herself. After yesterday’s formal introduction I started to suspect that the storms probably help block off the emotions of everybody although I haven’t verified this with her yet. And the dancing is a telltale of her letting go and just living in the moment.”

T’Challa folded his arms and stroking his beard in thought, “hmph, this girl gets more interesting the longer we stay.”

“She is one of the most interesting people I've ever known and I've come to love her like a sister in the short time she's been here. So since we're basically her family now, if you hurt her M’Baku, I will kill you slowly and in a tortuous way.”

“Do not worry, for I M’Baku, leader of the Jabari tribe, shall protect her with all that I am.”

T’Challa shook his head, “must you always be this dramatic?”

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Nora had been antsy for the last few days. Avoiding everyone seemed so hard now that she had connected a little bit more. She now knew they weren't going to get hurt by her, unless she tried to intentionally, which brought about a fierce hunger for affection she was not entirely prepared for. M’Baku made it worse than it needed to be with his presence. He had basically taken up residence at her door whenever they came back after various meetings, press conferences, and whatever else they had going on. The man was resilient and seeing him asleep outside her door each night made it that much harder.

His constant persistence on top of the rising emotions of the world, especially in this country was really weighing on her. So when she woke up to the smell of rain in the air she breathed a sigh of relief and relished in the knowledge that she would soon be able to feel free from the burden of emotions people carelessly projected into the world.

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Same as the previous nights, she walked out of her room to the sight of M’Baku sleeping in front of her door, or so she thought. She laid a blanket over him to stave off the cold seeping in from the floors and tiptoed around him in order to avoid confrontation. She went outside and walked into the rain relishing the cleansing feeling she got to experience each time, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Twirling around and down into criss-cross applesauce, she started her meditation process, breathing the cleansing air of the storm in and the negative emotions cluttering her spirit out.

M’Baku watched her actions from inside the house, the night sky providing cover in its darkness. Whatever she was doing opened her up to M’Baku for he felt what she did once again. Though the sight and feeling combined was something he had never witnessed before, he knew it was something to behold.

After Nora finished meditating she danced as if she was a child again. Not caring that she was soaked to the bone, she let herself go, crying through each movement over and over until she felt tired enough to go back inside and hopefully sleep.

She passed right by M’Baku not realizing that she was caught until he spoke up. “You will be needing this, you do not want to catch a sickness” he said as he held up a towel for her dry off. Startled, she jumped and just barely held back her scream. “Why are you sneaking up on me?!” Her heart was pounding so hard she wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear it. “Well, when the love of my life avoids me like the plague, one must revert to hunting tactics. We need to talk Elinora.”

Looking down she mumbled, “I don’t wanna talk to you.” Taking his forefinger and thumb, he grasped her chin gently but firm, tilting her head up until she had no choice but to look him in the eye, “Ndiyazi ukuba uyothuka, ungashiyi. Andiyi kukulimaza..” Nora pulled away from him despite the incessant need to lean in, “I can’t do this, whatever it is, please just leave it alone.” She looked back up and the determination in M’Baku’s eyes both scared and thrilled her, he wasn't going to be giving up anytime soon.

Pulling away, she solidified her decision that they shouldn’t be together, but the big brute was obviously not letting this go and she was not having this conversation with him so she did the only thing she thought she could do in that moment, she ran. Probably not the smartest idea, but she was desperate to not have to deal with this situation. Stunned, it took M’Baku a second to process what was happening, but once he did, he thanked Hanuman for his training. Moving faster than should be possible for someone his size, he caught up in three strides grabbing her by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder. He continued on to his way as if he didn’t just lift her over his shoulder.

“You seem to have an affinity for fleeing and have yet to understand that I will not tolerate you running away from us.” Smacking his back in protest, Nora replied, “Put me down you big brute! Can’t you take a freaking hint! I don’t want to talk to you and I don’t want whatever this is!” M’Baku grunted and smacked her bottom in reply continuing the journey to his room. Stunned at the action and her body’s response Nora stopped her antics since moving at all caused her body to perk up even more and take notice of the power now underneath her.

“I thought we would have a civil conversation, but it seems you want to fight me and us every step of the way.” M’Baku walked into his room and locked the doors. “That is fine, I am just as stubborn and twice as resilient.” Walking to his drawer he pulled out a shirt and handcuffs. Catching the glint of metal made heat pool low in her belly.

M’Baku walked into his closet, closing that door as well before depositing Nora on unsteady legs.

“I am going to turn my back, you are going to strip and put this shirt on. I will not have you catching a cold.” She shivered at his demand. “See? You are already shivering.” Thankful for the scapegoat she said nothing to indicate it was him having an effect on her and not her drenched clothes. After he turned around she moved as quickly as possible, not risking him seeing her in all her naked glory.

Once she was done changing, M’Baku picked her up in the same manner not trusting the little minx after realizing her tendency to run. “I am too heavy for you to constantly be picking me up like this just let me walk.” He gave her another swat eliciting a low moan that did not go unnoticed, “I do no not know who told you such lies, but for me you are the equivalent of a feather.” Easing her onto the bed as gently as possible while trapping her underneath him he looked at her as if he was searching for the secrets of her soul. She looked away, not accustomed to such intense attention focused solely on her. Pushing her hair to the side M’Baku leaned down and whispered in her ear, “give me your hands umfana wam omncinane.” With him staring at her again, it seemed as if she no longer had control over her body because she followed his instruction without question, lost in his gaze.

M’Baku handcuffed her to the bed with her arms above her head. After she was secure he took one finger and traced her body starting from her fingertips, down her arms and sides, to her luscious thighs and finally her toes. Starting back up from her instep, he worked his way back up stopping a few centimeters from where she craved his touch most. Looking up and licking his lips, speaking in a voice deepened by lust and longing, “now that I have your undivided attention…”

Chapter Five

Tags: @skysynclair19 @biglipsandafropicks

[mx-requests-forum]

[Fulfilled] (Truth or) Dare

Prompt: ShowKi + Kihyun giving Shownu a lapdance because of a dare (M)

Fulfilled by Moderator M~

Words: 4,413

Warnings: explicit rating

AO3 Link

“Okaaaaay Kihyunnie-hyung, it’s your turn, truth or daaare,” Changkyun slurred out, leaning drunkenly against the beige-brown colored couch in Kihyun and Minhyuk’s dorm. Kihyun hummed thoughtfully, glancing around the motley crew that surrounded him… and how nobody had actually picked dare in several turns. Kihyun was definitely drunk enough for whatever Changkyun could possibly throw at him, and he leaned forward, shooting Changkyun a confident smirk.

“Dare.” Changkyun laughed, and there was something… evil twinkling in his eyes. Maybe it was just all those shots of tequila finally hitting Kihyun, but he was almost scared.

“I want you to give somebody a lap-dance,” Changkyun began, and Kihyun busted out laughing, giving his younger friend a bemused expression. “But I don’t know whooo~” he continued, playing with a strand of his hair cutely as he spoke. There was a beer bottle right in the center of the group of 7, flipped on its side and looking all too inspiring…

“Spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on…” Changkyun smirked conspiratorially before continuing. “Give them a lap-dance~” Kihyun glanced around the people surrounding him, seeing the myriad of attractive men all sitting in a circle, and then, the hottest one of them all: Hyunwoo. Truthfully, Kihyun had a crush on the man for a few weeks now, and this could potentially be a great opportunity to see if Hyunwoo liked him back. The chances of it actually landing on Hyunwoo were slim at best, but Kihyun was willing to take that chance.

“Alright let’s do it,” Kihyun replied, grabbing his pre-filled shot glass and downing it, his expression unchanging as he guzzled down the bitter liquid. The vibe of the whole room took a lighter, more entertained tone as they watched the antics unfold. Minhyuk, Hoseok, and Changkyun were beside themselves with amusement, while Jooheon and Hyungwon decided to join Kihyun in taking another shot. They both knew what could potentially transpire from this dare, especially when it was Kihyun giving the lap dance. Drunk Kihyun.

Hyunwoo, meanwhile, could feel his heart pound in his chest. His cheeks were already flushed red from the alcohol, so hopefully nobody could tell how much hotter he just got from the thought of Kihyun giving somebody a lap dance. If he was being honest with himself, Hyunwoo wouldn’t be able to deny how much he wanted to get Kihyun’s gorgeous body shoved in his face, but he was a little too shy for that. He could only blush and smile nervously, his plump red lips parted cutely.

Scooting the bottle more into the center of the circle, Kihyun licked his lips, glancing around the room to make sure everyone was watching before he spun it. Seeing the sea of eyes staring expectantly down at him, Kihyun leaned forward, spinning the bottle with all of his might. He watched as the bottle gave quite the enthusiastic spin, until it slowed down, spinning painfully slow as it circled around the room… until it petered to a stop.

Right in front of Hyunwoo.

“WHOA, looks like you’re giving Hyunwoo-hyung a lap-dance~” Changkyun stated, giggling cutely. Beside the young man, Hyungwon started laughing rancorously, smacking Changkyun’s shoulder. Kihyun let out a tiny puff of air, trying to smile even though he was suddenly hit in the face with what could either be his dream come true or his worst nightmare. Swallowing thickly, Kihyun patted his legs, trying to regain feeling in them before he got up.

“Can somebody put on some music?” Kihyun requested, chuckling awkwardly and spurring another round of drunken laughter from his friends. Standing up, Kihyun glanced over at Hyunwoo, noticing the slightly shy look on the older boy’s face. A little curious as to what this could imply, Kihyun gestures for Hyunwoo to get up and sit on the chair on the other side of the room- and in perfect view of the whole crowd.

At the sound of Danity Kane’s “Strip Tease”, Kihyun choked, sparking another round of laughter. Changkyun quickly paused the song to wait for them to get into position, however, and a false semblance of calm came over the group. Hyunwoo damn near tripped as he walked towards the chair, skirting past Kihyun and avoiding eye-contact. Taking a seat in the chair, Hyunwoo stared up into Kihyun’s face, spreading his thighs instinctively and looking absolutely poised and prepped to receive the lap dance of his life.

The song restarted, and Kihyun sighed through his nose, his cheeks turning a shade pinker as he mounted Hyunwoo’s lap. The room roared in a sea of cheers and laughter, and Kihyun smirked, his confidence hiking up at the enthusiastic crowd behind him. Eyes staring down into Hyunwoo’s face, Kihyun began rocking his hips, his tight body moving and swaying to the beat. Hyunwoo’s pupils were blown wide, heart racing as he watched how smooth and luxuriously Kihyun was dancing… right in his face. Clearly the younger man was taking this dare seriously, and Hyunwoo didn’t know what to do with himself.

Kihyun was having the time of his life, grinding his little body against Hyunwoo’s, but there was just one thing… Hyunwoo wasn’t looking into his face. Kihyun had unwaveringly been staring into Hyunwoo’s eyes, but the man hadn’t even noticed. Grabbing Hyunwoo by the face and tilting his chin up, Kihyun smirked, his bright smile greeting Hyunwoo as he was forced to look up. Now that Hyunwoo was looking into his face, Kihyun held the eye-contact, lifting his hips and shaking his ass, his fingers curling around Hyunwoo’s shoulders.

Hyunwoo’s breath caught in his throat, unable to tear his eyes away from Kihyun’s, and his body on fire from the intense combination of sight and sensation. Kihyun absolutely knew what he was doing; there was no way his ass could accidentally press against Hyunwoo’s cock so many times. Leaning back further in the chair, Hyunwoo let out a deep exhale, praying that the rest of the group couldn’t see how hard he was already starting to get.

As the chorus pounded through the air, Kihyun got up, turning around so that his face was to the crowd and his ass was facing Hyunwoo, and started grinding even more blatantly against him. Hyunwoo breathed out a groan, trying to resist the urge to grab Kihyun by the hips and shove the tempting man even closer to his lap, his eyes raking over the slender body against his. Rubbing his ass against the rough denim of Hyunwoo’s jeans, Kihyun’s lips parted in a smile, his eyes staring hard at the ground and avoiding the intense gazes of all the men in front of him. He’d never done something so daring and sexual in front of an audience- and it was overwhelming. It was hot as hell, too.

As the chorus ended and the song melted into the next verse, Kihyun turned back around, facing Hyunwoo again. Smirking breathlessly at the erotic, clearly aroused expression his eyes were greeted with, Kihyun spreads his legs wide, raising his arms and waving his body gracefully. He could feel something hard press against him, and his heart raced as he realized that Hyunwoo was actually get aroused from this. Now gazing down into Hyunwoo’s eyes again, Kihyun couldn’t even hear the cheers of the crowd behind him. The song mutely played in his ears, but Kihyun found it harder and harder to even listen to it- the only thing that mattered now was Hyunwoo.

The amount of concentration it took Hyunwoo not to just outright rock his hips up into Kihyun’s ass was ridiculous. Watching this stunning, elegant man on his lap was like being graced by some ethereal creature of seduction, mesmerizing Hyunwoo until the only thought in his head was Kihyun’s incredible body. Craning his neck, Kihyun leaned his face closer to Hyunwoo’s, his lips parted in slight pants. God, Hyunwoo’s lips were so tempting- so plump and red, Kihyun could just kiss him right now-

“Okay, ahah, that’s enough~” Changkyun said, pausing the song before it inevitably got out of hand. As Kihyun demounted Hyunwoo’s lap, he suddenly became aware of the steamy, slightly tense vibe of the room. Apparently they were being a little more obvious than he anticipated, because Kihyun couldn’t see a single person with their eyes not turned towards the floor. Well, aside from Minhyuk, who shot him a cheeky wink.

The two boys both sat down and the game of truth or dare continued… but only for a few more minutes. After the lap dance, the vibe had gotten a little strained, and the drunken shenanigans had now died down to a rather sober evening. Kihyun couldn’t avoid the tension in the room, but he also couldn’t help but keep sending lingering glances to Hyunwoo. To be interrupted mid-song… it kinda put a damper on their good time, and Kihyun definitely wasn’t ready to end it. He wanted to get back onto Hyunwoo’s lap, but this time: without his pants.

Hyunwoo wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to anyone else, his mind still going crazy from everything that had just passed between him and Kihyun. He couldn’t seem to calm down at all, the need to escape the room and jerk off overwhelming him. Across the circle, Kihyun couldn’t even focus on the game anymore; he could tell that somebody had picked truth, but his eyes were staring exclusively at Hyunwoo. He couldn’t even think straight, his brain filling with lewd images, and, dear god- was Hyunwoo still hard?

“So… y’all wanna watch a movie or something?” Minhyuk offered, sensing the strange vibe taking over the room and deciding to change the subject. Everyone agreed, and began moving positions, getting within view of the small television. Seeing this is an opportunity, Kihyun jumped up, grabbing Hyunwoo by the arm and dragging him up with him. Feeling the curious gazes of everyone in the room pointed at them, Kihyun smiled awkwardly, trying desperately to come up with an excuse that wasn’t ‘I need to fuck this man or I’ll lose my mind’.

“Kihyunnie wanted to show me something,” Hyunwoo offered before Kihyun even had the chance to open his mouth, and Kihyun resisted the urge to slap his forehead. Well, it’ll do.

“Y-yeah,” Kihyun awkwardly replied, and then quickly drug Hyunwoo into his room, shutting the door behind them before anyone could even think about questioning it. Now alone in the same room as Hyunwoo, Kihyun exhaled, finally able to relax without having to worry about appearing unaroused. His eyes flickered up into Hyunwoo’s, and Kihyun smiled breathlessly, cheeks turning pink.

“So….” Kihyun began, a slight tenseness in the air. Hyunwoo chuckled warmly, walking closer to Kihyun and staring at the boy, the sound of their friends in the adjacent room loudly laughing and talking. “I never got to finish my dance…” he continued, his voice taking a higher, almost playful tone as he stared over at Hyunwoo.

“W-would you really want to keep going?” Hyunwoo asked, an obvious eagerness in his voice. He wasn’t even counting on getting one lap dance from Kihyun to begin with- let alone two. And now they were completely alone together, still a bit tipsy, and Kihyun wanted to give him another one. If it was anything like the first, then Hyunwoo was very glad they were alone.

“If you want me to~” Kihyun answered, even though he could clearly see that Hyunwoo was interested. Hyunwoo nodded eagerly, and Kihyun swallowed, pulling out his chair for Hyunwoo to sit on. Honestly, he was pretty proud of himself for actually mustering up the nerve to do this with his intimidatingly sexy friend, and now that he was here- he was going to go all out.

Sitting down onto the chair and staring up into Kihyun’s face, Hyunwoo licked his lips, his cheeks turning red with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Not even bothering with music, Kihyun mounted himself onto Hyunwoo’s lap, smiling shyly down at the older man before grinding his hips down. Without music and an audience, this position became shockingly intimate, and Kihyun swallowed nervously, his eyes staring directly into Hyunwoo’s.

Now that they weren’t preforming for a crowd, Kihyun didn’t feel the need to keep up the pretense of a lap dance any longer, instead deciding to just outright grind against Hyunwoo’s lap, in the lewdest way he knew how. Kihyun could hear Hyunwoo’s deep, low breaths; he could see the way Hyunwoo’s eyes raked over his body- making Kihyun want to take off his clothes to reveal more skin for Hyunwoo to ogle.

As they got more into the dance, Kihyun flushed as he realized that they were both seriously feeling this, Hyunwoo’s cock pressing into his ass at every single grind and motion informing him of this fact. Licking his lips, Kihyun rolled his body, blinking nervously at the intense gaze Hyunwoo was searing into him. The atmosphere in Kihyun’s cramped dorm room heats up, and Hyunwoo outright groans, unable to stop himself from grabbing onto Kihyun’s hips and kneading into the entirely too tempting flesh. Eyes widening at the sudden skin-contact, Kihyun whimpers, spreading his thighs wider and rubbing his ass against Hyunwoo’s crotch in fast, hard circles.

Kihyun could hear the chair squeaking from the quick speed, which meant the other room could probably hear it too. This knowledge did nothing to slow Kihyun’s motions, however, and he merely flushed, lips parting in a lewd moan that he hoped wouldn’t travel to the ears of his friends in other room. Hyunwoo couldn’t help but push Kihyun closer to him, his chin tilting up and staring into Kihyun’s face, taking in the erotic, clearly aroused look in his eyes.

Kihyun was actually starting to sweat now, the realization hitting him that he was, at the moment, literally and outright humping his college friend- and they both were completely hard. He couldn’t even fathom how he got into this position, but by god, he was so glad he did. The more he grinded against Hyunwoo, the more he wanted to feel him closer, and Kihyun bit his lip sexily, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Upper body now completely exposed, Kihyun continued rocking his hips, his arms moving to wrap around Hyunwoo’s shoulders.

Actually gasping at the sight of Kihyun’s slender, nude torso, Hyunwoo groaned, pulling Kihyun closer to him by the hips. He pressed his cheek against Kihyun’s chest, feeling his warmth and heartbeat underneath his skin and desperately craving more. His cock was so hard it was actually throbbing in his pants, and the fact that Kihyun was still grinding against him was driving Hyunwoo crazy.

“Closer,” Hyunwoo mumbled, almost inaudibly. Kihyun raised his eyebrows, not quite sure what Hyunwoo meant. Cheeks flushing bright red, Hyunwoo swallowed, eyes flickering to stare honestly up at Kihyun’s. “No clothes,” he explained, hands groping Kihyun’s hips absently. He wanted to feel Kihyun’s bare body against his with nothing between them. Flustering at the straight-forward request, Kihyun blinks rapidly, not quite sure where that came from… but, judging by Hyunwoo’s honest expression, it probably came from the heart.

“O-Okay,” Kihyun replied, licking his lips. Standing up, Kihyun began unbuttoning his pants, watching as Hyunwoo started stripping alongside him. A tiny bit surprised that Hyunwoo was getting undressed too, Kihyun’s mind is suddenly filled with the myriad of erotic things that would absolutely result from the both of them being naked and grinding against each other. His heart raced, and Kihyun pulled down his pants and briefs, the cool air breezing against his warm skin.

Now that they were both naked, Hyunwoo walked over to Kihyun, his eyes burning with a passion and intensity that startled Kihyun, surprising him even further when Hyunwoo suddenly grabbed him by the waist, pulling their nude bodies close together. Hyunwoo laughed a bit, smiling as he realized just how different this situation was compared to their usual dynamic. Honestly, Hyunwoo considered Kihyun to be his friend, his very attractive friend, but he certainly would have never expected them to be in this position- especially not tonight. They weren’t dating, they hadn’t even been flirting, but here they were.

Sitting back down onto the chair, now completely nude, Hyunwoo gestured for Kihyun to get back onto his lap, his eyes burning into Kihyun’s. He was obviously and completely hard, and Kihyun shakily inhaled, mounting Hyunwoo’s lap for the third time that night. Eyes widening as he feels Hyunwoo’s cock slide from his entrance to the underside of his balls, Kihyun gasps, giving Hyunwoo an obviously turned on but also startled look. Honestly, if they were going this far… Kihyun quickly demounts from Hyunwoo’s lap, surprising the older man.

“…Did I go too far?” Hyunwoo asked, blinking innocently over at Kihyun. Quickly easing Hyunwoo’s worries, Kihyun flashed the man a bright grin, grabbing something from a drawer under his bed that, upon closer inspection, was a bottle of lube.

“No of course not! I just thought, since we’re naked and all, this might help,” Kihyun explained, a little too embarrassed to say anything else about it. The tantalizing thought of Hyunwoo’s wet cock sliding against his entrance was already too much for Kihyun to resist, and he popped open the lid, pumping out a few squirts of lube onto his hand.

Hyunwoo silently nodded his reply, watching with rapt attention as Kihyun pressed his lube-covered fingers against his own entrance, eyes turning hazy with lust as he prepared himself. Hyunwoo could almost swear he saw Kihyun’s fingertips dip inside himself, but it was over so quickly he couldn’t say for sure. Now sufficiently wet, Kihyun mounted Hyunwoo’s lap, groaning blissfully at the wet, slick feeling.

The friction was incredible, Hyunwoo’s cock practically glided against Kihyun’s ass and the underside of his balls, and now that they were both naked- Hyunwoo couldn’t stop himself from groping Kihyun’s body. His large hands trailed over Kihyun’s shoulders, down his chest and torso until he gripped the younger man’s hips, forcing them to grind harder and faster against him. The feeling of their hot, sweaty skin touching was like electricity passing between them, creating a hot, fiery atmosphere that quickly overwhelmed their other senses. The chair was squeaking ceaselessly from their motions, but neither seemed to care- too far gone to even think about the possible consequences.

The more Kihyun moved against Hyunwoo, the more he noticed how close he was to actually getting penetrated by the older boy. If he tilted his hips up and lowered them down at just the right angle, he’d be fucking Hyunwoo. Staring down into Hyunwoo’s eyes, Kihyun breathlessly smiled, licking his lips as he felt sweat drip down his back.

“You know… if I moved just right, your cock would just slip right in~” Kihyun teasingly declared, making a shiver visible run down Hyunwoo’s body. Heart pounding, Hyunwoo gripped Kihyun’s hips harder, his heart pounding in his chest. What did Kihyun want him to say…?

“Would it?” Hyunwoo prompted, unsure as to what else he could possibly say to that. Kihyun raised his eyebrows, laughing softly as he lifted his hips, pressing Hyunwoo’s wet cock right against his entrance in the perfect position to ride him.

“What do you think now?” Kihyun asked, slowly lowering his hips. He didn’t move enough to actually insert Hyunwoo’s cock, but it pressed against the tight ring of muscle more and more. With another good push, it could definitely go inside. Both knew this.

“Do you want me to do it?” Kihyun offered, making sure to get Hyunwoo’s content before he fucked him. Taking a deep inhale, Hyunwoo ran his eyes up Kihyun’s gorgeous body until he reached his face, eyes staring honestly into the boy’s pretty features. He looked a bit tentative, but Hyunwoo could feel that the moment he gave Kihyun the okay, that timidity would melt away. Getting excited by that content, Hyunwoo nodded.

“I want it,” he confirmed, and Kihyun smiled, nodding his head. Now with the go-ahead, Kihyun reached his hands down and spread his ass cheeks as he lowered himself down onto Hyunwoo’s cock. The very first penetration of the night was always the hardest, even when Kihyun was much more prepared than he was currently, and he clenched his jaw, letting out an uncontrollable groan as Hyunwoo slowly slides inside.

Moaning hotly, Hyunwoo leans his head back, plump lips parting in a deep, satisfied groan. Kihyun was so wet and tight, Hyunwoo could hardly believe that he was actually inside him right now. Above him, Kihyun bit his lip, pleased that he was able to get Hyunwoo inside with minimal discomfort. After letting himself adjust for a few seconds, Kihyun starts slowly lowering himself onto Hyunwoo’s cock, getting about halfway before sliding back up. Getting a rhythm going, Kihyun whimpers, overwhelmed with how hard and big Hyunwoo felt inside him.

Ready for something a little more stimulating, Kihyun takes a steadying breath, arranging himself on Hyunwoo’s lap in a way that he could stare into the man’s face while fully seated on his lap, his hips grinding against him. Hyunwoo looked like he was damn near losing his mind, his face so red it looked like he just came back from running a marathon, sweat dripping in drops from his chin. Kihyun smirked, pleased that he was able to evoke such a reaction from him.

Tilting his chin back and moaning lavishly, Kihyun starts outright fucking Hyunwoo, his slender body rocking against Hyunwoo’s strong thighs. Hyunwoo was staring at him like he was a god, and Kihyun’s pride swelled along with his incredibly neglected cock. Biting his lip, Kihyun spreads his thighs, popping his hips up and down on Hyunwoo’s cock while his hands use Hyunwoo’s formidable shoulders as support.

Hands skirting along Kihyun’s waist, Hyunwoo sighs thickly, rocking his hips into Kihyun’s entrance quickly, his pace fast and hard as he refuses to tease himself. Kihyun’s body was absolutely stunning, his spread thighs and pink cock, paired with his sharp, beautiful eyes pointed down at him. Hyunwoo didn’t know how much longer he could last, not with the way Kihyun was grinding onto him.  

“I’m gonna cum-” Hyunwoo groaned out, his lips parting in a deep, luscious groan, unable to hold on to his self-restraint any longer. They never actually bothered to grab a condom, and considering their position- Kihyun would have to get off his lap for Hyunwoo to avoid cumming inside him. Breathing deeply, Hyunwoo grips Kihyun’s hips, massaging the flesh roughly as he grinds into Kihyun’s ass.

“Mm,” Kihyun replied, smiling down at Hyunwoo. Sweat was dripping down his face, making his hair stick to his forehead, but he refused to slow his pace. They were both aware of the situation, and when Hyunwoo stared up into Kihyun’s face, he blinked rapidly as he processed the glint in the younger man’s eyes. Groaning deeply, Hyunwoo whimpered, his body trembling slightly as he lost his control bit by bit.

“Kihyunnie, please, let me pull out,” Hyunwoo begged, his eyes burning into Kihyun’s. He couldn’t believe how addictive Kihyun’s ass was, how tight and deep he was, like he was sucking him in and not letting him out. He didn’t trust himself to be able to pull out on his own anymore, not when Kihyun was fucking him this incredibly.

“Just do it inside~” Kihyun replied, inching closer to his orgasm as well. Unable to hold back when Kihyun was just letting him do it, Hyunwoo groans loudly, shoving Kihyun’s ass flush against his hips as he came inside him. Whimpering, Kihyun’s eyes roll back, and he moans brokenly at the feeling of Hyunwoo’s cock filling him up with hot cum. Milking Hyunwoo out as much as he can, Kihyun gasps, staring down at Hyunwoo as he starts to gather himself bit by bit. Beneath him, Hyunwoo is obviously still blissing out, his face overcome with pleasure. Kihyun smirks, swallowing thickly as he tries catching his breath.

“How was it?” Kihyun asks, wiggling off Hyunwoo’s lap and flushing at the feeling of cum dripping down his thigh. Hyunwoo blinks a few times, trying to process Kihyun’s question as he’s still recovering from his orgasm.

“Incredible,” Hyunwoo replied, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he watched Kihyun move about his room. Kihyun smiles, but his fingers are pressing against his entrance, trying to keep any more cum from spilling out.

“That’s great~” Kihyun replies, his voice a little strained. Trying to figure out why Kihyun was acting a little off, Hyunwoo suddenly realizes something.

“Oh, you never came, I can-” he began to offer his assistance, but Kihyun cut him off.

“It’s okay, hyung~ I’m pretty tired now anyway,” he insists- which was true. He wore himself ragged riding Hyunwoo. Humming, Hyunwoo nods his head, watching as Kihyun shyly starts putting his clothes back on.

“Well, then next time you can cum first,” Hyunwoo suggests, sparking a flustered blush from Kihyun. In his surprise, Kihyun starts absently putting on his underwear and pants, realizing midway through that he still had cum dripping out of his hole. Cheeks flushing, Kihyun buttons his pants, taking a step towards Hyunwoo and immediately feeling another stream trickle out.

“I-I would like that,” Kihyun replies, a little surprised that Hyunwoo was so confident in there being a ‘next time’. Smiling earnestly, Hyunwoo stands up on shaky legs, walking towards Kihyun and giving him a short hug.

“We should go back out there soon, though,” Kihyun says, and Hyunwoo nods, starting to put his clothes on too. They’d been gone from the party for quite a while now, and if the others somehow hadn’t heard them loudly fucking, they were definitely going to be suspicious with how long they’d been in there.

Now both fully clothed, Kihyun shot Hyunwoo a smile and a wink, and the two walked back into the main room of Kihyun’s dorm, seeing the pile of their friends all sitting around the TV. Taking a seat next to Minhyuk, Kihyun curled his legs to his chest, cheeks flaring as he feels the seat of his pants get wet from Hyunwoo’s cum. Minhyuk leaned towards him, whispering in his ear.

“So how was he?” Minhyuk asked, quiet enough so that nobody else in the room could hear them. Kihyun smiled, swallowing before answering.

“Perfection.”

[deadmandairyland]

This really long rant is probably going to feel like it came out of nowhere, but...

I watched My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU this past week. Before this, I only really heard about it on occasion here and there. And from what I gathered from the Internet (and what was mostly confirmed from watching the first few episodes of the anime) was that the premise was basically “Harem anime series with a twist where the protagonist is a pessimistic antisocial loner, doesn’t think anyone’s capable of liking him at all, and is far more interested in one of the boys in his class than any of the girls in the ‘harem’.” A premise I thought was actually kind of interesting.

And after watching it, well, I kinda liked it for a while (even with some of its flaws), but then I got kinda bored near the end. I felt like some arcs dragged on longer than they needed to, and some of the conflicts I actually liked seemed to be resolved in ways I thought could have been resolved better. I’m not even entirely sure if half of those conflicts were even resolved, to be honest.

And while I can’t say for sure what it was that caused me to stop caring, I’m just going to strongly imply that, considering my interest started to wane about part way through the second season, there may be a correlation between that and the moment I realized that these two

and this girl (who had just recently acquired actual depth, by the way)

were pretty much replaced by this girl (who seems to only exist to make Hachiman’s life a living hell)

and this girl (who seemed to come completely out of nowhere and also seems to only exist to make Hachiman’s life a living hell)

and some guy that flails his arms a lot and talks a lot of nothing (which granted is the only thing at this point in the anime that fulfills the “Comedy” portion of the title, so I’ll let that one pass).

In fact, I’m not gonna lie. Here’s more or less a breakdown of what I wanted to see in the end as I was watching the anime. You may notice some bias, but that’s fine. This is an opinion, after all.

Most of season one: Hachiman saying “You know what? Fuck it,” and actually going the Totsuka route.

Cultural festival arc: Whoever Hachiman ends up with, I hope he at least finds out at some point he’s actually a better person than he thinks he is and betters himself.

Season one, episode 13: Same as #1. Also this is one of my top two favorite episodes of the anime, just throwing that out there now. It had pretty much everything I was expecting to see from this anime and more--it was funny, it was clever, it was fucking ridiculous, and surprise surprise but the three people up there that seemed to fuck off on their own later on are prominent in this episode--so if there’s any episode I’m sure I will rewatch in the future, it’s this one. I will be talking about my other favorite in more detail in just a moment.

Beginning of season two: Same as #2, with an emphasis on Hachiman realizing and acknowledging all the friendships he’s made along the way. Also will not complain if #1 also happens.

Most of season two: ...Look, I just want Hachiman to be happy by the end of all of this, alright?

Season two, episode 11: Oh my god, I actually really like this episode. And wouldn’t you know it? Totsuka’s playing a prominent role, and the conflict is between Hachiman and Hayama, which is what the show was initially building up from the start. Not that I’m saying stories have to be simple but I think I just figured out another reason why I got so bored near the end. It seemed like the series went from one plot to another but tried to act like it didn’t, and it made it hard for me to stay invested in what was happening. This sort of thing might work for a world-driven action series like Black Lagoon where all kinds of crazy shit are happening all the time, but not so much for a character-driven slice-of-life series where very little happens in a given episode, in my opinion. I mean so many potentially great characters and relationships given almost no development because the plot decided to go in a random direction and focus on new characters instead. Man, this episode was a sight for sore eyes.

The rest of season two: I really don’t care what happens anymore. The thing I’m most invested in now is “I hope Komachi does well on her exams” and I stopped caring about anything else. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of love triangles featuring ships I’m honestly not emotionally invested in. Maybe I’m just bored of seeing “let’s melt the Ice Queen’s heart” plots, or plot threads that involve vague words like “genuine” that everyone has to contemplate on for like five hours. I don’t know. All I know is I don’t really care and half the time I don’t even really understand what their conflict actually is. Was anything even really resolved here? I have no idea.

I don’t know, it’s just... with a title like "My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU”, I kinda expected, I don’t know, more of what the final episode of the first season had to offer, and less of whatever was happening for much of the second season. Maybe the “Comedy” part of the title threw me off. I was expecting more of that. Or maybe this went from feeling like it could be a subversion of your usual harem anime and ended up being, well, a harem anime. I don’t know. But what I do know is that this youth romantic comedy felt wrong, as I should have expected.

...

See--see what I did there? Yeah. Yeah you read that. Comedy gold. A+

But yeah, maybe I’m being a little too harsh. I mean it feels like this isn’t supposed to be the end of the series, and I hope that if a third season is ever made that it’s much better than the second one. And from what I’ve been seeing here and there, the light novels are better than the anime. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Deadman Wonderland, it’s that you shouldn’t judge what might be a really great series by its disappointing anime adaptation.

Also I saw this on the series’ wiki

and realized that there is, in fact, stuff I was missing the whole time that I actually wanted to see. Hachiman with friends that care about him and, I’m assuming, him being happy. Could’ve used more of that in the anime, is what I’m saying.

On a positive note, in the video I watched of the last episode of the second season somebody had edited the opening to have Hachiman wearing a Batman helmet throughout it, and if I were to be completely honest with you guys, that made it all worth watching. Thank you, whoever did that. That made my week.

[bizarrebird]

make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely

Prompt from @secretlystephaniebrown -  Diner AU: Tex and York being asshole friends who love each other

So there’s not really any of the actual ‘diner’ part in this, but it’s set in the same au as ‘pour some sugar on me’ and ‘cherry bomb’. 

Also on ao3 here

Warnings: Implied abuse

Rating: T

Pairings: Background Yorkalina, background Chex, platonic York & Tex

It starts on a playground.

“Get off him, you big dummy!”

The girl is half the size of the boy pinning York to the bark chips, but that doesn’t stop her from sending him running off crying, hand pressed to his bleeding nose. She’s got a grin with a missing front tooth and a hand covered in dirt and bandaids that she sticks in his face to pull him up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, that was so cool, you were like pow! And he was like ‘waaaah mommy help me’ and it was awesome!” York bounces on the spot, not even caring about his stupid lisp for once.

The girl giggles and beams at him. She brushes imaginary dust off her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal. Why was that guy picking on you anyway?”

Shrugging, York shoves his hands into his pockets. “He said I stole something out of his cubby.”

“Did you?” This girl’s a smart one.

“Maybe. But he didn’t see me, so he can’t prove it and he got all mad.” York should probably feel a little guilty, his mom always says stealing is wrong. But he would’ve put it back if the jerk hadn’t made such a fuss about it.

So it’s his now.

“What’d you take?” The girl doesn’t sound like she’s accusing him of anything, she just seems curious, her big gray eyes blinking up at him.

York hesitates for a moment before grinning as he pulls a small model spaceship from his pocket. “Pretty cool, right? He was waving it all around before, bragging about how no one else could see it unless they gave him the best stuff outta their lunch.”

“What a cockbite.”

Eyes widening a little, York can’t quite stop himself gasping. The girl cocks an eyebrow at him, looking like she’s trying not to laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, just… your parents let you swear?” He glances around, almost as if expecting someone to be there listening, waiting to get her in trouble. But there’s no teachers, no parents.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Where d’you think I learned that? My mom says it all’a time. ‘S no big deal.”

“Cool.” York can’t stop the little giggle that sneaks out. He holds the ship out to her. “You wanna play with it? I don’t really like space stuff, just thought it was too cool for him to have, y’know?”

“I get’cha.” She eyes the ship for a moment before snatching it, making sound effects as she waves it around. “I’ll give it to my brother, he likes this nerd stuff.”

She shoves it into her pocket and then gives him a good, long look before offering her hand. “I’m Allison.”

Her hand is a little grubby and gross, but York takes it anyway, grinning wide and crooked. “I’m York.”

Allison tips her head to one side, making a face. “That’s a weird name.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s my last name.” He shrugs, looking at the ground as his hand falls back to his side. “It’s kinda… hard to say my first name with my stupid lisp.”

He knows the question that’s coming, the same one as always, or the gentle assurance that Sylvester isn’t that bad a name. But they don’t come. Instead, Allison just leans her head the other way, brow furrowed in thought.

“It’s not that bad, but… you do talk kinda funny. You can call me Ally if you want, that doesn’t have an ‘s’.”

York blinks, eyebrows rising a little. This is weird. People don’t make things easier for him. Try harder, they say. You can do better if you just work harder. “Really?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “I don’t really like ‘Allison’ anyway.”

“Okay, cool.” York tries to bite back the big crooked grin that’s sneaking across his face. He turns away to hide it, eyes drifting over the deserted playground. “You wanna go on the swings? I could push--”

“Hell yeah! Bet I can swing way higher than you!” And she’s already halfway there, bark chips flying through the air behind her.

It’s not until high school and Allison is Tex that they finally have a class together. As much as York likes giving her and Wash shit for being little baby freshmen, it’s so fucking nice having Tex behind him in Astronomy. Even if she likes throwing crumpled bits of paper at the back of his head when he tries to take a well deserved nap.

“So, your place today or are we crashing at North’s again?” he asks as they head for the lockers, Tex on his left, Wash on his right. They’re both a head shorter than him, so it’s easy for him to drape an arm around both of their shoulders.

“I’d rather go to North’s.” There’s a little blush dusting across Wash’s freckles.

Tex snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you would.”

“Aw, Washy wants to see his booooyfriend.” York coos at him, shifting his grip to a loose headlock, pulling Wash closer.

Wash splutters and goes bright red, squirming until he shoves his way free. “Shut up! He’s not! I just… I just don’t wanna go home today.”

And the air changes around them in an instant as Wash’s gaze drops to his shoes and Tex goes tense at York’s side. He instinctively pulls her a little closer, and she goes, leaning against his shoulder a little.

“Go grab your stuff.” Tex’s voice is calm and even, because of course it is. She does angry and annoyed in public, but not… whatever this is. York doesn’t quite have a word for it.

Wash nods and moves down the hall to his locker. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek, York stands on tiptoe, trying to watch, but that kid moves fast when he wants to and is lost quickly in a sea of students. “He doing okay?”

“Hell if I know.” He feels Tex shrug against him. “He doesn’t talk to me about that stuff. C’mon, you’ve gotta open my locker again, I put the wrong lock on this morning.”

“Why do you even keep that old one?” He knows why. It takes him less than a minute to get the fiddly old thing off Tex’s locker, but that means they get to walk halfway across the school together, talking about whatever for an extra five minutes.

She shrugs and flashes him a little grin. “Cause if I get a better new one, you might not be able to get it open if I forget the combo.”

He scoffs and presses a hand to his chest, doing his best to look deeply offended. “Excuse you, I’m the lock whisperer. Have you ever seen me find a lock I can’t get past?”

“Yes. Several times.”

“Okay, but besides those--”

She just laughs and tugs him along. By the time they’re out of the school to meet up with Wash and the Dakotas in the parking lot, the uncomfortable moment from before has all but left York’s mind.

In the back of his head, he knows things aren’t perfect, that there’s some pretty good reasons why Tex and Wash want to spend as little time at home as possible, why they’ve both tried to leave behind the names their parents picked. But it’s not something he can fix. There’s too much shit for any of them to wade through alone.

But he can hold both of them close when they pass out on the couch in South’s room and pretend that maybe it’s all going to turn out okay.

York stares at himself in the mirror, carefully combing his hair into perfect shape. He’s got to get this right. He needs to look good for this. Today’s the day.

There’s a pounding on the bathroom door. “Would you hurry up in there?”

“You can’t rush perfection, Ally,” he calls, smirking a little to himself, knowing he’s going to pay for that later.

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you, asshole. Get the fuck out here, teachers keep giving me dirty looks.”

“Okay, okay.” With a final glance at himself in the mirror, York tucks away the comb and steps out into the hallway. Tex is leaning against the wall, but she doesn’t seem to notice him, her eyes fixed down the hallway at the entrance of the school. She’s been doing that all day.

He gives her a little nudge. “What’s up? You waiting for something?”

She shakes her head a little then lets out a huff. “It’s nothing, just… Wash missed first period.”

York’s brow furrows and there’s a slight curl of anxiety around the already potent bundle of nervous energy that’s keeping him bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Did he come in with South?”

“No, he was going to drive himself again.” Her eyes are still on the door.

“Maybe he just… got here late and got stuck dealing with shit in the office. They held me for half the day once.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “That’s because you forged your mom’s signature on your late slip right in front of the principal.”

But a little of the concern has melted into vaguely amused annoyance and she’s not having a staring contest with the front entrance anymore, so he’s calling that a win. Clapping her on the shoulder, he steers her down the hall toward the cafeteria. “Wash’ll be fine. Now, let’s get back to worrying about me.”

Tex huffs, but lets him pull her along. They stop in the doorway of the cafeteria and York stands on his tiptoes, trying to peer over the crowds of students milling about, looking for that telltale bright red hair.

“Over there.” Tex points toward the back corner. York is never going to forgive the genetics that made Tex and Wash both shoot up over the summer, each of them getting almost five inches on him. It’s just not fair. “She’s in the back--it looks like she’s talking to that Connie girl. Ooh, looks like they’re getting cozy, you better hurry,” she says, giving him a teasing nudge.

“Very funny.” He nudges back, smile in place, though there’s a horrible lurching in his gut as he looks over where she’s pointing. Taking a breath, he shakes out his hands at his sides. “Alright, remind me of the plan.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tex sighs and pinches the bridge of her crooked nose. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she starts propelling him through the cafeteria, talking in his ear all the while. “You’re going to go up and introduce yourself--like a normal person, no stupid lines, no witty jokes, just say hi and ask her out.”

“Right. I can do that. I can talk with my mouth and make words go. I’ve got this. How’s my hair? Tex, tell me I’m pretty.”

“Out of ten, you’re at least a solid seven, maybe an eight in good lighting.” She comes to a stop several feet away and gives him a little shove and a slap on the ass. “Go get her, moron.”

York nods to himself, stumbling a little before regaining his usual stride. Dragging a hand through his hair, aiming to give it that perfect ‘sexy messy bedhead’ look, he glances back at Tex, who’s taken a seat at an empty table. She gives him two big thumbs up and a wide grin. Right, he can do this. He’s got this.

Or he would, if the school hadn’t cheaped out so much on their wet floor signs. York’s a foot away when he slips and starts sliding, just as beautiful, mystery girl turns toward him. Mystery girl has some really, really nice arms that manage to catch him and stop him landing flat on his face. She laughs as she steadies him.

“Are you alright?”

She has the greenest eyes in the world and her eyebrows don’t match her hair and York’s hands are suddenly the sweatiest anything in the universe has ever been, he could fill a swimming pool with the ridiculous amount of damp rushing out of his skin. Jesus Christ, why did he think he could do this?

“I’m super,” he says. Except, it doesn’t sound like ‘super’. He hasn’t lisped in years, years. But there it is, rising from the depths past countless hours of speech therapy and careful practice. If the ground could just open up and swallow him whole right now that would be awesome.

Wincing a little, he tries to recover. He can do this. Half the school is totally into him. Or he’s pretty sure they are anyway. It’s not like he’s mister jock popular or anything, but he definitely has that outcast bad boy thing going for him. He’s got this.

“I mean, I’m fine. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to fall for you--on you.” Nailed it. Nothing like a smooth, accidental on purpose slip of the tongue to crank up the charm.

But mystery girl looks more amused than impressed, one of her eyebrows rising, her lips curling like she’s trying not to laugh. Fine, amused is fine, he can work with that. “I’m sure. Maybe you should sit down before you get any further ahead of yourself.”

Oh no. She’s clever, and there’s a little smirk on her face and a sparkle in her eyes and he’s so doomed.

Her name is Carolina. They end up sitting and talking together for a while, it could be a few minutes, could be hours for all that York knows. She’s new this year since she just moved back in with her dad after a few years of boarding school. Her brother’s already been here a year, and York’s pretty sure he sounds like the loser who’s been trailing after Tex for months. They’re talking about classes and comparing schedules when York glances over toward Tex’s table.

And he goes still, stopping mid word.

Tex is sitting there, talking to the principal. She looks like she’s about to be sick, her hands gripping the strap of her backpack so tight he can see her knuckles turning white even from half a room away. It looks like she’s shaking.

“Uh, hey, Carolina, I’m really sorry. I’ve gotta just… go check on my friend. I’ll be right back,” he says, offering her a quick grin before getting up and moving to Tex’s side.

“Hey, is everything okay over here?” His smile is wide and easy, even when the principal shoots him a look, implying he should probably make himself scarce.

“There’s been an accident, but it’s none of your concern--”

“It’s Wash.” Tex’s voice is clipped and strangely quiet. She rises and grabs at his arm as if to steady herself. “I need a ride. Right now.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

The principal still doesn’t look like he approves, but he doesn’t stop them. That’s… so not a good sign. York waits until they’re out of the cafeteria and heading toward the parking lot before he starts asking questions. “What the hell’s going on? What happened to Wash?”

“He’s in the hospital. There was some accident, he crashed--I don’t know, he barely told me anything.”

“Holy shit.” York pulls his arm from Tex’s grip, grabbing her hand instead, squeezing as he picks up the pace, tugging her along to his shitty old truck.

It’s probably not the best idea to speed given that they’re going to check on someone who literally just got in an accident, but York doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to speed limits on the way there. His grip on Tex’s hand never lets up.

“What if I just blow it off?”

York’s sprawled out on his bed. His room is a mess, as usual. Not like his mom cares. Hell, as long as he hasn’t set the place on fire, she couldn’t give less of a shit. And it’s not like he’s going to be there too much longer. She’s probably going to turn it into a craft room or something as soon as he’s gone.

Tex looks up from where she’s sitting in his desk chair. She’s got her feet kicked up on his desk as she looks through his mail. There’s more than he’s ever gotten in his entire life. This is what he gets for applying to two dozen colleges just to make sure something stuck. He can’t believe even half of them accepted him.

It’s not like his grades are terrible, but he’s no Carolina. She’s already heard back from three Ivy Leagues who are desperate to take her. Of course, the only school her dad wanted had to be the one that waitlisted her. Such fucking bullshit.

They hadn’t accepted him either, but… he hadn’t really expected them to.

“Blow off what?” Tex’s eyes are narrowed like she already knows the answer.

“The whole college thing. It seems kinda overrated, and the loans are a total scam. Even if I get decent financial aid, I’m gonna be in debt till I’m thirty. What’s the point?”

“The point is that it gets you the fuck out of here,” she says, flicking a letter at him. “I thought you were into this?”

He shrugs. “I was when I was just applying to every school in New York for the hell of it, but I dunno…”

“Are you freaking out about this? Usually when you freak out there’s more pacing.”

“I’m not freaking out.” Except he is. So, so much. The letters make it too real. Groaning, he throws an arm over his eyes. “What if I just like… don’t go? That’s a thing I can do right?”

“No, it’s not.” He hears Tex get up and walk over and knows she’s glaring down at him. “Okay, what the hell is this about?”

York blows out a breath and sits up. There’s a stack of letters at the end of his bed, some clearly big fat acceptances, others much thinner, none of them ease the frantic churning nerves that are making him flashback to the burnt as shit grilled cheese he had earlier. Tex can’t cook for shit, but she tries, and no one burns a sandwich like she does.

“I’ve just been thinking… what if I took the money my mom’s been saving for college and just… used it to get an apartment? I can probably get a job somewhere in town, and then you can just crash at my place whenever you want, Wash too. And I mean, Lina and I were gonna end up doing the long distance thing anyway. It’ll actually be shorter if I just stay here--”

“Okay, you need to stop right fucking now.” The bed dips as Tex plops down next to him. York doesn't have to look at her to know she’s glaring. “Where the hell did this come from?”

He shrugs, pulling a few letters from the pile into his lap, flicking through them, not really reading anything written on the envelopes. “Nowhere. I’ve just been thinking it would be easier if I stuck around here a while. It’s not a big deal if I put it off a year.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tex holds up her hands. “Are you doing this cause you don’t want to go to college without me?”

York hums and shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said. Who says this is about you? Maybe it’s about Wash. Or even Church. You know the little asshole is very near and dear to my heart, maybe I want to stick around to make sure he has a shoulder to cry on the next time you dump him.”

“Oh please, he’s got people for that,” she says, rolling her eyes. “And I’ve only done that like… twice this year. But that’s not what we’re fighting about here.”

“Are we fighting? Why didn’t you tell me? I need to stretch first, you know that.”

Tex huffs and lightly shoves at his shoulder. “York, would you be serious just for five minutes here?”

“That’s a trick question.”

“Oh my god.” She groans and leans forward, her head thunking against his shoulder as he just grins at her. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

“I know I am, but what are you?”

“Gonna fucking punch you in a second here.”

“Wow, Tex, threats? What is the world coming to?” He shakes his head and tosses the letters back into the pile. “But okay, okay… I just--I guess I always thought college was one of those future things that was never going to actually happen. But now it is…”

“Ha, you’re totally freaking out, I knew it.” She lifts her head up and smirks at him a little, but it doesn’t last long before her expression gets a little softer. “It’s not as big of a deal as it seems. And it’s not like we’re going to stop talking or anything… you know that right?”

York suddenly finds the floor immensely fascinating as he shrugs. There’s an indignant squawk from Tex as she smacks at his shoulder. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think this is gonna fuck things up?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“You’re such an idiot.” The bed shifts and he feels her back press against his. “I’m gonna call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And it’s not like this is the first time--we still talk to North every other day, and even South calls once a week.”

“Yeah, they do.” He wants that to reassure him, he really does. Letting out a breath, he runs a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t like that I won’t be able to just walk over to your house any time. I know it’s stupid…”

“It kinda is.” But that doesn’t stop her from reaching to grab at his hand. “Look, it’ll be okay. Trust me. Fuck, we’ve been stuck it out this long, this isn’t gonna be what messes things up.”

“Promise?”

“You’re such a loser.” There’s a slight pause, and then she sighs, knocking her head lightly back against his. “Yeah… okay, I promise.”

When asked what he remembers about the incident years later, York will mostly say loud. After being pressed a bit more, he’ll say loud and bright and ow.

York’s woken up from enough head injuries to know when he’s got one. He comes to slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he tries to figure things out around him. There’s soft beeping that’s more familiar than it probably should be. Not for the first time, he’s suddenly sure that his particular group of friends has spent way too much time in the emergency room.

But it sounds weird. A little distant. Or like someone filled one of his ears with cotton. That’s probably not great.

He blinks, or he tries to. The left side of his face feels weird, sort of numb and covered in bandages. They must be covering his eye too for some reason. That… doesn’t seem good.

“York?” Carolina’s voice is a little distant, but there’s no mistaking it.

He turns toward where it sounds like she’s coming from, finding her sitting to his right. It feels weird, but he still manages a smile. “Hey there Carolina. Am I dead? Cause you look like an angel.”

She snorts, but her eyes look red and tired. At least there’s no tears there now. Nothing has ever been more terrifying than seeing Carolina cry. There’s a scraping sound as she drags her chair closer to the bed. “Not funny.”

“I don’t know, I think that one was pretty good. Definitely better than the pie one.”

Carolina sighs and shakes her head, but she takes his hand when he reaches for her. “How are you feeling?”

“Mm, like I’m on some really, really awesome painkillers.” His grin grows a little when she manages a shaky smile, but it doesn’t last. “So… guess I must’ve got pretty fucked up?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” And there’s a little bit of a bite to her tone.

“Do you know what the damage is?”

Letting out a breath, she shakes her head. “Not yet. The doctors said they did what they could, but they aren’t telling me much since I’m not family.”

“Pssh, lame. You should’ve told them you’re my sister, so then we could make out and creep everyone out.”

Snorting again, she ducks her head, giving his hand a little squeeze. “They’ve definitely been giving you too much morphine if you’re making jokes that bad.”

“Got you to smile, didn’t it?”

She looks up at him, that smile still lingering as she nods. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

There’s the sound of a door opening and Carolina looks somewhere past the foot of his bed. York can’t really see what’s happening, but he notices the way Carolina’s face suddenly goes cold, her eyes narrowing, back straightening. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see if he was awake yet.” That’s Tex’s voice. Uh oh. Not good.

With a little grunt of effort, York tries to push himself up. “Tex, hey, are you here to cry at my bedside too?”

“You wish,” she says, smirking, but there’s a slight softness to her eyes. Shit, this must be really serious then. “The doctors said you might be waking up soon, figured I should make sure you weren’t dead.”

“I appreciate that.”

Carolina doesn’t look like she shares the sentiment, still glaring daggers at Tex. York squeezes her hand a little to get her attention. “Hey, Lina? Can you go see if they’ve got any good food here? I’m starving.”

She looks down at him, for a moment, it seems like she’s going to protest, but then there’s a little slump to her shoulders. “Sure. I should call North anyway. He’s been texting me every five minutes for updates.”

“Oh well, you definitely need to get that. Can’t keep Mother North waiting.”

There’s a little hint of a smile on her face as she leans down and meets him for a quick little kiss. The glare is back as she straightens up and heads out of the room, shouldering past Tex. Since day one, there’s been some… unpleasantness there. York’s always seen it, but this seems like… more somehow.

Tex isn’t glaring as she watches Carolina go though. And that’s also really fucking weird. She steps into the room, closing the door behind her as she moves to sit on the edge of his bed, apparently ignoring the chair Carolina just vacated.

York’s brow furrows. “Okay, you’ve got serious face, what’s up?”

Grimacing, Tex stares at her hands. “It’s my fault.”

Oh boy. This already. With a little groan, York pushes himself up, sitting back against his pillows. “No.”

Tex blinks at him. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean what I said. No. Not your fault, and we’re not doing this. We don’t do this, remember?” It’s been their rule since fifth grade and the time he had accidentally gotten Tex’s hand stuck in a hole puncher. They don’t blame, they don’t hold grudges. And they don’t get all guilty and shitty. It makes things so much easier.

“But it was my fault. I’m the one that got the fireworks.”

That sounds… sort of familiar. Honestly, the last thing York remembers is waiting in North’s car for him to get back with beer. He knows they were going to do something after that with fireworks, their usual Fourth of July shenanigans. Right… and then they were going to the park to see the stuff Tex had got and then… and then… a bright, bright light. And loud. Lots of loud. And pain.

And now he’s here.

“Yeah, but you weren’t the one that… did whatever happened. Uh, you might need to catch me up on that part. Things are kinda fuzzy.”

That doesn’t look like it makes her happy. But she sighs and looks at the wall. “We were setting off fireworks and one of them… I don’t know what happened, it must not have been hammered in right and it just went right at you.”

“Huh. At least it was something cool. ‘How’d you lose your eye?’ Firework to the face,” he says, playing out the conversation with himself, grinning.

Tex doesn’t look amused, and she doesn’t feel amused either when she smacks at his shoulder. “Shut up. You don’t know if you’re gonna lose it.”

Oh… is that a thing he should be worried about? Shit. He had just figured his face got kind of fucked up. Which… sucks. He likes his face. Carolina likes his face. But he’s pretty sure she’s not going to just dump him because he’s got a few new scars. If his eye’s messed up though… that’s going to be an issue.

“It’s still not your fault,” he insists, reaching his hand toward Tex. She eyes it for a moment as he wiggles his fingers at her.

After a few moments, she sighs and takes his hand. “Okay,” she says, very softly. “I still feel like shit.”

“Yeah? Well knock it off. You’re gonna have to be my seeing eye Tex.”

“That’s still not funny.” But she’s grinning a little now as she shakes their joined hands at him. At least she seems a little less sad and quiet and un-Tex like. Good, that’s good. He’d trade his other eye for that. “I guess, if we’re really pointing fingers though… I did tell you stop standing so fucking close.”

York snorts and presses his free hand to his chest. “Wow, okay, I don’t remember, but that doesn’t sound like a thing I would ever do ever, how dare you. Me do something you told me not to? How could you even think of accusing me? That’s just--how dare. I’m so offended.”

She laughs a little and shakes her head as she leans over and rests her forehead against his shoulder. “You’re such a big dummy.”

It’s a little soft and a little sad, so he wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. The hand that isn’t holding his curls into the hospital gown he’s wearing. She doesn’t say anything for several long moments, the light atmosphere drifting away. York leans his head against hers and sighs.

“I’m okay, y’know? Well… even if I’m not, I will be. I always bounce back, Ally.”

There’s a little groan and she shakes her head, still not lifting it from his shoulder. “God I hate that nickname,” she says, and her voice sounds a little close to tears, so he gives her hand another squeeze. “Why the hell did I ever say you could call me that?”

“Cause you loooooove me,” he sing songs as he kisses the side of her head.

Tex sighs. “Yeah… I do.”

And she says it in that soft, quiet way that makes him bite back any other stupid jokes rolling through his still fuzzy feeling head. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but eventually she pulls back. For a split second, York thinks he might see a tear on her face before she turns away and rubs at her face.

“You should call your roommate,” she says, voice carefully casual as she pulls his phone out of her pocket and drops it on him. “He texted a bunch last night and I told him what happened. Sounds like he probably wants to yell at you for it. North does too, by the way. And Wash.”

Groaning, York flops back against his pillows. “Why’d you tell Dee? He’s gonna give me so much shit.”

“Uh yeah, that’s why I did it,” she says, flashing him a toothy grin as she rises from the bed. “Well, I can’t just hang around here all day and you’ve got a lot of yelling coming, so I’m gonna head out. Call me when the doctors tell you what’s up.”

“Okay mom.”

Tex snorts. “Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near as mom-ish as the other guys.”

Well… he can’t exactly argue with that, so he just nods as he picks up his phone. Looking at the screen, he winces. Oh boy, twenty-seven missed calls and forty-three text messages. That’s not good.

“Yeah, you should probably get out of here before the screaming starts,” he says, picking a voicemail at random to start with. He winces again when Wash’s screeching punches its way out of the phone.

Snickering, Tex leans over and kisses the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder before heading out of the room.

“Hey?”

York looks up from the laptop. He’s sprawled over Tex’s couch, having spent the last several hours slowly slumping down it until the laptop’s on his chest and his arms are regularly cramping up trying to actually type anything.

There’s a weird look on Tex’s face, her mouth pinched a little to one corner as her hands drum on the back of the couch. “Nah, nevermind.”

Okay, that’s just bizarre. “What’s up? I’m not doing anything.”

For a long moment, Tex just pauses. Then she huffs and jumps over the back of the couch, shoving York’s legs off to make room for herself. He sits up and sets the laptop on the coffee table. Tex pulls a small box out of her pocket and flips the lid open. Inside is a silver ring, almost plain except for the very faint blue inlay. It’s gorgeous.

“What do you think of this?” She’s not looking at him.

“Tex, I’m flattered, but you know gold is more my color.”

“Oh fuck off.” She shoves at him, but he’s pretty sure he hears a faint laugh in her voice. 

He lets out a mock gasp of surprise. “I thought what we had was special.”

“Can you be serious for like five seconds?”

York shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m pretty sure that’s not physically possible for me. I had all my serious surgically removed and implanted into Delta.”

She lightly shoves him again, but makes no move to scoot away when he shifts back closer and stretches an arm along the back of the couch. “But it’s not too much, right? Some guys get all weird about jewelry and shit.”

“It’s perfect, Tex, but this is Church we’re talking about--you did get that for him, right? There’s no mystery dude you’re not telling me about?”

Tex rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. “Yes, it’s for Church, dumbass.”

“Right, yeah, like I was saying, I’m pretty sure he’d take a rubber band with a paperclip stuck to it if it came from you.”

“Yeah, probably.” There’s something fond in her eyes, as she looks at the ring, and something a little worryingly sad. Okay, maybe not the best thing to say, time to backtrack.

“So is this just… a present or?”

She looks at him like he’s one of the biggest idiots on the planet. Which is probably fair. Fancy ring in a little black, velvet lined box usually only means one thing.

“I’m asking him on Friday,” she says, a slightly forced certainty to her voice. “I figure… we’ve been together long enough, I should probably just do it.”

York frowns, one eyebrow rising. “Really?”

Tex lets out a huff and drags a hand through her hair. “Sort of? Not really. I know he wants to get married, but he’s too chicken shit to ask me, so I’ve gotta be the one to do it.”

“But do you want this?” He shifts a little on the couch, turning to face her more. Honestly, York doesn’t know all the details of the ups and downs with Tex and Church and… he doesn’t want to. Some things are tmi even for him.

For a long moment, Tex says nothing, then she very slowly nods. “I… I don’t know. I think I do? It’s weird, y’know? I never figured I’d want to settle down and all that boring bullshit, but… things have been good lately. Like really good. I know I used to mess around and stuff, but the last few years… I haven’t wanted to. Things are good with Church.”

“Have you two talked about this at all?” His hand drops onto her shoulder, thumb gently rubbing the back of her neck.

“A little, yeah. We already live together, and I mean… we’re basically already there, just not officially.”

“And… no one else is trying to talk you into this?” He doesn’t want to drop a name, but he can tell from the look on her face she knows exactly who he means.

There’s no hiding the disgust as she shakes her head. “No, he’s got nothing to do with it. Fuck, if we’re doing this, there’s no way in hell he’s invited. It’s bad enough he still sends me birthday cards,” she says, shuddering a little.

York’s arm goes around her shoulders and she moves to lean into his side. “So… you really want this? With Church?”

“Yeah… I really do. He’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s my idiot.” There’s a sweet smile on Tex’s face, her eyes on that little box. York has to look away for a second, almost feeling like he’s intruding on something here.

He lets her have her little moment before he gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Well good. I think you’re good for each other, y’know? And North owes me twenty bucks--he was so sure Wash and that Tucker guy would tie the knot first.”

Tex cocks an eyebrow at him. “Half of that twenty better be mine. You assholes need to stop betting on this shit.”

“Let us have our fun, Tex, I need something to live for,” he says, halfway toward pulling out his phone. “Am I allowed to brag yet or do I have to wait till you pop the question?”

“You should probably wait, I don’t even know if he’ll say yes.” She shrugs and tucks the ring away as York scoffs.

“We’re talking about the same Church, right? I’m pretty sure he would’ve said yes if you proposed two days after you met the guy. Don’t worry about it. So, am I the best man or what?” He gives her a little shake, smile obviously teasing to lighten the mood.

Snorting, she lightly shoves at his chest. “The groom picks the best man, dumbass. But… I was gonna ask you to be the maid of honor, or whatever.”

He taps his chin. “Do I have to wear a dress? And follow up question, can I pick it myself? Cause Vanessa has this collection of ugly bridesmaid dresses and I’m telling you right now, I love you, but you can’t do that to me. I need something that makes my eyes pop. Well, eye--you get what I mean.”

“You can wear whatever the hell Donut picks out for you. He’s got final say on all that shit, or he will once I start telling people. I figure if I don’t let him plan things, he’s going to start showing up at the foot of my bed at night and anyone else who tries to make a seating chart is gonna have a mysterious accident.”

York’s brow furrows for a second. “Donut… he’s the guy at the diner that wears all the light red stuff, right? The one who hooked up with North and redecorated his place?”

“That’s him,” she says, snorting as she nods. “He’s got all these binders about party planning, and he’s been making comments about wedding stuff ever since Church moved in here.”

He nods, and then something occurs to him. “Wait… am I the first person you’re telling?”

“Uh yeah, of course you are, genius.” Tex looks at him like he just said something amazingly stupid. Which is fair, he does that from time to time.

But right now, he can’t even be a little annoyed by that. It’s so simple, such a small thing, but she told him first. Of course she told him first. He knows he’s got a big stupid grin on his face as he reaches out and pulls her into a hug.

Tex lets out a squawk of surprise, but she doesn’t protest, wrapping an arm around him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just felt like it. Now less talking, more hugging.”

York can practically hear her roll her eyes, but she doesn’t try to squirm free. “Okay weirdo.”

The hug lasts for a few more long moments before he pulls back and starts making plans for his speech at the reception. They stay up till two making plans and laughing at each other until Tex is yawning and leaning heavily against his shoulder.

“You really think he’s gonna say yes?” Her voice is low, a tiny, tiny hint of doubt there. It doesn’t sound right.

“One hundred percent. But y’know… even if he doesn’t, it’s gonna be okay. And you know why?”

She sighs and he doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Cause I’ve got you?”

“Cause you’ve got me,” he agrees, nodding. He expects a biting comeback or a joke, but he just feels her nod against his shoulder.

“Yeah… I do.”

“Damn right you do. So… how do you feel about me playing Wonderwall as you walk down the aisle?”

“Hmm, I feel like I take back every nice thing I ever said about you.”

“C’mon, it’s a classic.”

“Maybe in your dreams,” she says. Sitting up, she stretches and yawns. “As fun as your bad ideas are, I think I’m going to bed before you come up with something even worse.”

“Just think about it.” He tips his head to grin at her as she walks around the couch and heads for her room.

“Yeah, no. Goodnight asshole.”

“Goodnight Ally.”

The door to her room shuts behind her and York stretches out on the couch, a smile on his face. He pulls his laptop back onto his chest and starts writing his speech.

It all started on a playground...

[handonhaven]

So I've been seeing people talking about howbthe producers said that the monsters are always going to part of the show even when malivore dies(I don't mind the whole monster of the week thing as long as works with the story you know). And that Landon won't be going anywhere because he's human now and can no longer be a vessel for Malivore because he wants an immortal vessel. But the thing is it was never state it that malivore want it an immortal vessel. Just that he wants one that not only more than what he is but could also have kids and that's why he wants Landon. And if Landon was human Hopes blood wouldn't have an effect on him(even though I still believe that Hopes blood wasn't the reason that he melted and that was all malivores doing. And I will go on believing that until it's proven otherwise). Also he wasn't born human so there's no way he's now. Kind of like when a witch loses there powers there still a witch. And even if Landon really isn't a Phoenix anymore then he's got to be something else.

Also what is going on with legacies getting cut short all of sudden. I mean no other show on the cw got cut short. Not even superman and lois. And they had a 6-8 week hiatus because of covid and they're getting to finish the season. Also a lot of other shows have/had the same shooting schedule as legacies but yet only legacies is getting cut short. I'm be very slaty about that for a long time if that's the case. And it would suck too because they won't be able to start the real story for the next season until they finish this seasons story. That's what happen at the beginning of this season. I mean it was still really good to me how they manage to mix both stories together in away. But would it really be to much to ask to finish a seasons story without some of it getting cut and then have to be mixed in with next seasons story. Also if they couldn't air it on tv for whatever reason. I wouldn't mind if they aired it on their Cw app/website. That wouldn't be so bad.

I just wish someone would tell us something for sure. And tell us why it had to happen that way. Or just anything really. Instead of just leaving us wondering until 3x16 comes out to know for sure.

I feel like I have heard that they intend to keep the monsters, though I haven’t heard about that happening even with Malivore dying. Because I thought they had implied that Malivore would be around for the whole show, they said he would sort of be like Voldemort in that way. So I kinda figured he wouldn’t be dying till the end of the show, but idk. I will say I’m not sure how long they can keep the monster thing going. Personally, I’m not a fan of them, never have been tbh. But this is the third season with them and it already feels a bit forced to me, so if they’re gonna continue, I’m not sure how that will work.

When it comes to Landon being a vessel, I think he still is the vessel Malivore wants. Malivore wanted him to be born for that purpose, and that’s true, we don’t know if he wanted his vessel to be immortal, the goal was for him to be able to have children. But we still don’t know if Landon is actually mortal or not, it’s pretty obvious he’s not human. Exactly, why would he have been affected by Hope’s blood if he was human? Humans don’t dissolve into goo. True, we don’t even know for sure if Hope is actually toxic to him either. And yep, he wasn’t born a human. I think he’s part human because of Seylah, but he could never be fully human when his father is made out of mud. And that’s a good point, a witch is still a witch whether they have their magic or not, so Landon is still supernatural somehow, even without his powers. I agree, Landon has to be something, even if his Phoenix side is supposedly gone.

And I have no idea what the deal is with the season supposedly getting cut short. The fact that it’s only happening to Legacies while the rest of the shows get to finish makes absolutely no sense. Because yeah, the other shows have been shooting at the same time as Legacies and some will be airing the rest of the summer, but Legacies gets cut off? I didn’t know about Superman and Lois though, wow, literally everyone else gets to finish their season. Does the CW just hate Legacies? I will be salty along with you if it really does get cut off. At least last year there was a more than good enough reason for it, for everyone’s safety. But what’s their excuse this year? The whole cast and crew have been working hard all these months to take the necessary precautions and stay safe, they’ve been working to finish the season, and then the CW does this because... why? They could at least give a reason. And yes, if they did it like this season, we’d have to wait a month for the real season to start again. Even if they are able to mix it in with the next season, it still just kinda screws everything up. But still, it really shouldn’t be too much to ask to get the whole season like we were supposed to, and the real finale that has been planned out. And I would be more than happy if they just put the episodes on the app, or even Netflix. Idk how that works or if they can even do that, but if the CW isn’t gonna let them air the episodes and they could do something like that, that would be ideal imo. Or just find times throughout the summer to air them, idc if they’re spaced out. Just don’t shove them into the beginning of season 4, don’t alter the episodes or the finale at all. I wish someone would tell us something too. We’re about a month away from when the “finale” is supposed to air, so hopefully we’ll get some kind of explanation before then.