#is this self deprecating? i dunno probably

[dadplagg-mamatikki]

I hope to update a fic soon!

[scarlet-bee]

[Plain text:

Wheel of Saw traps

Spin the wheel here

Are you surviving your test?

End plain text.]

WHEEL OF SAW TRAPS

Spin the wheel here

[insertfunkyusernamehere]

vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]

-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-

(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)

word count: 887

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????

god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh

you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.

you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.

you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.

you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.

you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.

"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."

you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!

you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.

"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."

you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.

as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.

it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.

you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.

"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.

was it his fault that he trusted you?

he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.

you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.

your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.

he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.

his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.

he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.

you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.

he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.

he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.

however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.

you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?

he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.

vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.

"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.

vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.

you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.

hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!

thank you for reading!

-leo :3

[frudoo]

Mister Asylum Pt. 2

Simon learns something about himself.

Warnings: Gross imagery, self-deprecating thoughts, one mention of medical abuse of power.

1 | 2 | 3

“Lights out, Mr. Riley.”

The squawking voice of the bitter nurse, ironically named ‘Sunny’, makes Simon’s eye twitch, fists clenched by his sides as he treks his way into the scarcely decorated room. There are no windows, no lights aside from the fluorescent overhead that gets switched off the second he thunks down onto the rickety bed. A couple of motivational posters hang high on the walls, held up by sticky tack and pure spite, at this point. The cheery words mock him, contort into vicious reminders of how useless he is in this place, in this world.

There’s not even a clock on any of the four taunting walls surrounding him and his roommate. His roommate, who talks to himself more often than not, only getting out of bed to get his vitals checked or slurping down the scrambled eggs he sneaks into his pockets at breakfast. Simon actually misses the smell of gunpowder and blood—anything is better than the vile stench of rotten food and day-old feces. The sorry fucker can’t even be bothered to flush the toilet. He’s nicknamed the gremlin ‘Egghead’ since he’s unsure of his real name. Not that he’d care regardless.

It’s no use complaining, either, no matter how many times Simon tries. He’s always dismissed with an annoyed frown and a wave of whatever nurse’s hand he’s decided to bitch and moan to. If he persists, they just threaten to give him an ungodly dose of Benadryl to keep him doped-up and compliant. Fuck, prison would be paradise compared to this place.

Simon huffs and pulls his mask over his eyes rather than his nose and mouth, turning on his side to finally try his hand at sleeping. He hasn’t caught a wink in the past two days he’s been here, and whatever little teaser of a nap he manages to fall into gets destroyed by the nightmares he’s plagued by. He’s lost count of how many times nurses have been sent to his room to try and calm him down to no avail—he just has to ride the terrifying wave the way he always does. It’s his own personal form of torture.

He’s nearly halfway asleep in a record time of fifteen short minutes when he hears rustling beside him. Simon stirs but ultimately ignores it, sniffing and allowing his body to relax once again. He probably just imagined it. No threats in this place. He’s safe.

He’s on the brink of blissful slumber when he feels it again. This time, he knows it’s not a figment of his imagination—that much is proven by the weight that settles on his waist. The unmistakable odor behind him proves his suspicions as his roommate cuddles up behind him like it’s his birthright, a pleased sigh escaping his filthy mouth.

“I jus’ wanna know when ya plan ta kill me,” he rasps, and Simon nearly loses it.

Fucking hell. Enough is enough. Simon elbows the freaky little greaseball in the stomach and skyrockets out of the bed, storming into the hallway where the night shift nurses are making their rounds. He spots the one who forced him back into his room and strides over to her, furiously pulling the mask back over his mouth and nose.

“No’ stayin’ in there w’him,” Simon growls, staring down the much shorter woman whose glare is equally as sharp.

“And what do you expect me to do about it?” Sunny cocks an eyebrow, arms crossed and one hip popped to the side to show she’s not intimidated.

“Dunno, but I ain’t goin’ back,” he squints, large foot tapping against the linoleum floor impatiently, looking much more like an angsty teenager than a battle-ruined soldier. “Can I switch rooms?”

“This isn’t a hotel, Mr. Riley,” the older woman exhales heavily and pinches the bridge of her nose before her eyes meet his again. “But I’ll see what I can do. For now, you’re gonna go back in that room and sit on the bed. Understood?”

Simon groans in disapproval but nods, moping his way back into the torture chamber where Egghead has made himself at home on his bed, sprawled out like a damn prostitute. The freaky bastard’s not even sleeping, just staring up at the ceiling with a cavernous grin on his oily face, acknowledging Simon’s presence with a squeal. The lieutenant actually flinches, reaching behind him habitually as if to retrieve a knife, despite having nothing but his pajamas on his person.

“M’ready,” Egghead giggles, lifting his arms and plopping them down again childishly. “How ya gonna do it?”

Simon peeks down the hall, hoping to find Sunny making her way towards him with that wonderful news so he doesn’t have to respond to this madman. No such luck, to his dismay. When he turns his head back, Egghead is standing right in front of him, jaundiced eyes wide and bloodshot.

“Answer me!” He shrieks, his grubby hands grabbing onto Simon’s shirt and tugging him so close that the taller man can see the plaque on his teeth.

Utterly repulsed, Simon shoves the fun-sized ogre back, fully intent on beating him to a pulp for ever daring to touch him in the first place. Egghead hits the edge of the bed with a grunt, palms rested on the mattress behind him to brace himself. The soldier raises a clenched fist, wild brown eyes locked on his target, but he can’t bring himself to plummet his knuckles onto the smaller man’s face. There’s no fear in the poor bloke’s expression, something more akin to relief, and it makes Simon question everything about himself.

Had he been on the field, Simon wouldn’t have hesitated to dig a knife into the enemy’s neck. But here, in the quiet of the hospital where he can hear the whimpers coming from the pitiful throat before him, where there’s no pressure on him to keep his team alive, he finds himself incapable of the violence he’s always known to resort to. If it wasn’t for the rapid fluttering beneath his chest, he wouldn’t be sure he even still had a heart. The feeling is foreign and it scares the hell out of him.

“M’not gonna kill you,” Simon grumbles, smoothing his rough palms over the mess of overgrown hair on the top of his head. “Stand up, mate.”

Egghead whines dramatically before following orders, using the heel of his palms to push himself back onto his feet. He trails back over to his own bed where he starts reciting his usual bedtime story to himself, like nothing had happened. Simon settles for kicking the wall to release his frustrations, not even flinching at the shooting pain that resonates through his foot. The rubber slipper that the hospital provided snaps in half, rendered useless in his rage. Funny, he thinks, that he can relate to such an inferior object.

“Mr. Riley, if you’re finished damaging property, I’d like to speak to you,” Sunny’s unimpressed voice rings out from behind him, and he turns around hopefully.

“Sorry,” he mutters, nodding for her to continue.

“There’s a room on the floor above us that the director herself has offered up. No roommates. You will still be on our schedule, but the nurses will be different. And, Simon?”

“Hm?”

“Just because we’re making this one exception does not mean you will be treated specially. It is simply a different floor. You will proceed treatments like normal,” her voice is firm as ever but holds a depth of sympathy that wasn’t there previously.

“Understood, ma’am,” he fiddles with the hem of his cotton tee, avoiding her steely gaze. “Thank you.”

“Grab your belongings, I’ll escort you.”

𝝑𝝔

Taglist: @thesevi0lentdelights @rejectedbytheempty @whitetiger846

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, cw: self-deprecation, lack of self-worth

Soap was bright, he was 141's personal sunshine

but...

sometimes he was saying worrying things. He would braid those things into daily conversations and move on like no one heard, like no one gave a damn.

And it was partially true, he did it so casually that often no one really batted an eye.

He would talk during gym exercises about getting reprimanded by some other officer because of some minor thing and finish it off with "He didn't have to, ah know I am stupid"

Another soldier while on the phone bumped into him spilling hot coffee on him and Soap said "No, no, no sorry. It was ma' fault."

When Gaz mentioned that Soap is his best friend, probably the best person he ever met the response he got was a bright smile that didn't meet his eyes and a laugh that sounded just wrong "Ye can't be serious, mate. I am no one's favourite"

When joking around with Ghost he would say from nowhere "I am fucking dumb." laughing. And Ghost would ask "And...?" waiting for a punch line. Because it was part of a joke, right? But Johnny would answer "There is no 'but', ah just am.".

When Price asked him for an opinion on a mission plan he gave it, but his last words were always somewhere along the "It's whatever, my ideas are not the brightest, Cap".

TF141 were worried to say the least.

So when they all sat at a bar the barman passed the wrong drink to Soap and he didn't react at all Ghost asked. He knew Soap ordered Scotch, not whatever blue shit he got. "I probably got my order wrong, I am dumb like that."

Ghost's blood boiled. "Stop doing that, Soap." he said in a serious voice.

"What do ye mean, Lt?" Soap asked.

Gaz turned to them, facing Soap as well. "You know what he means, John."

"I have no idea actually, am I missing something again?" He laughed, it sounded wrong again.

"Stop talking like that, son." Price chimed in.

"Wha-?"

"Stop, talking about yourself like this, Johnny! You keep saying bullshit about yourself like you are not one of the most brilliant people I know. I have seen you make bombs out of nothing! Calculating their placement on the go! It is not something everyone can do!" Ghost ranted, trying hard for it to get to Soap.

"No, it's-"

Gaz cut him off "If you will say 'easy' Soap, I will strangle you. Have you seen your journal?? The things you can capture with a pencil? Dude, you must have worked hard for the level of skill that you have."

"And son, not everything that happens is your fault. You can't hold the responsibilities of the whole planet.

and just like that, Soap's smile breaks. He hides his head in his hands and cries as his family gives him a hug.

It will be a long way to change his mindset, but he has support now.

Just a thing I had in my mind for some time. I dunno. Kinda projecting.

[aspectpriority]

My toxic trait is assuming I can do things and simultaneously talking myself out of them like some kind of Schrödinger's hubris ngl

no one told me making mod packs would be fun if you write things down as you go. or that i'd be up till 4am making one today. ah well-

[fanaroff]

Above the Nasty Burger Ch. 1

Ao3 Link Here Next Ch. >>

“So… you don’t know your Obsession?” Ember looked understandably confused. Maybe a little weirded out. Danny laughed. It was a small, self deprecating laugh, but a laugh none-the-less. 

“What we thought was it turned out to just be a hero-complex and the offshoot of my wanting to protect my family.” He glanced at where Ember sat beside him on the roof of the Nasty Burger. “That and you all kind of invaded my Haunt.”  

Ember gaped at him. “That’s why you were so aggressive?!”

“Hey! I wasn’t aggressive! I just had family to protect and new instincts.” Danny was only mock offended. 

“Baby Pop, you were aggressive. For a new ghost, you were aggressive.” 

“Well, that’s the other thing. I’m not a full ghost. Not completely. I didn’t immediately seek out my Obsession. I didn’t try to create a Lair in the Zone. I didn’t seek out ectoplasm the way you all did when you changed.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. 

“I knew there was something weird with me from the beginning, kind of. But considering my experiences, I didn’t know what to classify as ‘normal.’ When Sam, Tucker, and I first learned about Obsessions, we thought that maybe I was a protective spirit or something that just kind of tied itself to Amity Park.” 

“You are a protective spirit. But…?” 

Danny uncurled and leaned back on his hands, eyes trailing up to the sky, seeking out the constellations he knows are there but are covered by the light pollution from the city. 

“But there were times where things happened that totally should have set me off if that was my Obsession.” He looked at Ember. “That time that you controlled me to ‘fall in love with Sam’ and I got my heart broken? She was in danger the whole time. Especially when she was about to fall off of the building and me in that hypnosis state just made it worse. If my Obsession was protection, that shouldn’t have worked. ” 

Ember made a drawn out ‘o’ with her mouth. “Oooooh…. That… that makes much more sense Baby Pop. We all thought something similar was your Obsession too, so I was actually kind of freaking out inside when it did work. I had actually been planning to do what I did to you to Tucker as a distraction but he wasn’t there.” 

Danny snorted into his hand. “Oh Ancients! I’m imagining Tucker just drooling after Sam and her planting a boot in his face!”

“From what I’ve seen, she’d probably have done worse.” Ember grinned.

“Very true actually! She probably would have broken his PDA and then booted him in the face!”

The two ghosts shared a laugh before lapsing into a not-quite comfortable silence. 

“I do want to say sorry, again.” Ember started hesitantly a few beats in. “We just kept pushing at you out of curiosity when we found out you were out here. It wasn’t obvious that you were a halfa at first. Most new ghosts still look pretty human when they form and then slowly start to come into themselves . We were very confused when you never did. Then we starting getting into what I at least know now was your Haunt and getting into your territory and things just started to escalate.” 

Danny scratched the back of his head sheepishly and waved out to a passing child on the sidewalk who was pointing him out to their parent. 

“Yeaaaaah, I know now that not all of you were intending harm. I dunno, I guess I just kind of reacted? So, sorry for that too on my end.” 

“Nah, don’t be sorry for protecting your Haunt. It’s something that you were supposed to do. It just wasn’t something we expected. Then we assumed your Obsession kept you tied to the human world. Then we found out that you were a halfa. Then it made things more interesting. And now we come to find out that was all just naturally you?” Ember let out a loud and short laugh.  

“Gosh, Baby Pop! We were amazed! And still are! To think you’ve done all that you have before you even found your Obsession! And to top it off, you’re in line for the throne and you still haven’t even come into your full power!” 

Danny groaned at this and ran his hands through his bangs. “Please don’t remind me! Clockwork and Frostbite have been teaching me everything that I have been missing this whole time and on top of learning basic knowledge about the Zone that everyone instinctually already seems to know, I have to learn to do something that I never wanted to do in the first place!” He threw his hands into the air and let himself fall backwards to lay on the roof. 

Ember was silent beside him as stared at the sky. 

“I’m still so confused about a lot, Ember. I don’t even really know exactly what I’m doing. I have to be King only because I somehow won a battle by the skin of my teeth. One that I really, really should have fully died in. And to top it off…” 

“-And to top it off, you need to be fully dead to claim the throne.” 

“Even though I don’t want to.”

“Even though you don’t want to.” Ember confirmed. “That’s gotta be scary, man.” 

“Terrifying.”

“I bet.”

“I mean… I’ve already died once-“

“Half-died really, but it counts.”

“-and I have to die again ! Then the big question is, how and when? Because the portal definitely tried its best but apparently not hard enough. Twice, now that I think about it.” 

Ember raised an eyebrow as she leaned over to look down at him. “Twice?” 

“I’ll tell you that story at another time, but it has to do with Desiree.”

“Ah. Carry on with your moping then.” 

“I’m not moping!”

“Certainly looks like it.” 

Danny huffed out a breath that blew his bangs out of his face. “Whatever. Anyways, I’m scared about what will happen when I’m dead dead and more than just dead inside. There’s also a lot of other things I’m scared about that has to do with it too, but I think actually having to find my Obsession is another part of it.” He sat up to look Ember in the eye. 

“Clockwork said that whatever my Obsession turns out to be, the Zone will shape itself to it whenever I finally take the throne.” 

Ember was silent a moment, processing this. 

“Welll…” she started slowly. “I don’t think that is something you will need to worry about. If it was something dangerous, then Clockwork would have already seen to you never taking the throne or getting into a situation where you somehow won the throne, right?” 

Danny shuddered as this sparked the memory of Dan. He was surely glad that guy was never the Ghost King. He shuddered again. That would have turned out very badly for everyone. 

“You’re a good person, Danny. All of us can see that. I doubt your Obsession would be anything but good for the Zone.” 

“It’s more than that, I think. I don’t know exactly how to put it into words.” He sighed and took a breath. “Frostbite has a theory that Clockwork neither confirms nor denies. And it’s the denying part that gets me because if it wasn’t true, he would have said outright.” Danny opened his mouth and stopped, unsure how to proceed. 

“It still boggles me that you’ve somehow ended up with two of the most powerful ghosts as your mentors.” Ember remarked. Danny shot her a wry smile before frowning again. 

“Frostbite thinks that the Zone made me.” 

“What!? What does that mean?” 

“It means that he thinks that when the portal in my parents’ basement opened up with me in it, the Zone kind of… chose me to be its new core. That it gave me my powers and didn’t let me fully die for this reason. Because it made me compatible with the Zone in a way that many other Kings weren’t.” 

Ember let out a loud groan. “And Clockwork didn’t deny this?”

“Nope.” Danny popped the ‘p.’ 

“Uuuuuugh, what is your life, Baby Pop?” 

“My half-life.” Danny corrected as he sat back up. He received a painful punch in the shoulder for his pun. 

“Okay, so, yeah. I see now why you needed to get that all of your chest. How long have you known?” 

He shrugged. “About four months now.” That earned him another punch in the shoulder. “I know I know! I shouldn’t have hidden it as long as I did! But I didn’t know what else to do!! And then we were chatting and I just sort of spilled it all out to you and now here we are!” 

“I still don’t know why you told me over your human friends.” 

A shrug was Ember’s only answer this time. 

Ember sighed. “We’ll, I guess the next step would be for you to actually figure out your Obsession and then talk to Clockwork about what needs to be done or how things will go. But you’ve got to remember that all of us are with you every step of the way now. I care, Baby Pop. And I know that dying is a terrifying feeling. I can’t imagine going through it twice.” 

“I just feel like a dead guy walking.” 

“Danny, you are a dead guy walking.” 

“Haha, very funny.” 

“Thanks, I thought it was.” 

“Seriously, though. I don’t really know how to process all of this still. It’s just so much and there’s still going to be more .” 

Ember gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t think too many steps ahead. Think with the information you know now and stick to it until you have more. You can’t plan the next step if you don’t know what it is. You’re just gonna drive yourself insane that way. “

“Who’s to say I already haven’t?” 

“Valid. You are actually pretty insane.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Good.” 

There were a few beats of silence before Ember stood up and started to float several feet in the air. “Welp, I’ve got some gossip to go spread around the Zone about your previous aggression” 

Danny didn’t protest at this but he did give her a surly frown. 

“I know it’s a sensitive topic and all, but if you need help figuring out how to find your Obsession, I don’t mind hanging around sometime to help out. Your human friends may not be able to understand it completely, but I will. Besides, if you do find it, you’ll probably need another ghost to snap you out of Obsession Trance. It’s always wild the first time.” 

Danny smiled, thankful for the offer. “Thanks, Ember. I’ll be sure to find you when I’m ready then.” 

It only took a flick of his hand and a bit of focusing, but with that simple movement he used his power to create a portal just big enough for Ember to pop through. She waved a thanks and vanished into the swirling green. 

After he let it close, Danny looked down at his own hands with a sigh. While Ember may have understood the ghost side of things, she didn’t seem to get why he hadn’t told his friends and family. How was he supposed to tell them that some day soon he would be gone and to a place they would no longer be able to reach him until they themselves died? 

The one thing he didn’t tell Ember was the one thing that worried him the most. Because when he takes the throne, all ghosts would be called back to the Zone, and then all holes and portals in the Infinite Realms would close and there would be no way back. Next Ch. >>

>>I finally decided to start moving some of my works onto here and interacting in some of the fandoms I most enjoy. It's been a little while. I'll be posting chapters, blurbos, fanart, and designs from my own fics, so keep an eye out for those if you're interested. I love discussing these things, so feel free to reach out at any time! I have a lot of Thoughts on the Danny Phantom lore and an absolute love of the Ghost King!Danny trope. I do want to preface, Ember and Danny are not going to be a couple. This is a purely platonic focus and giving Danny an emotional support that he needs outside of the expectations of Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. Someone inhuman needs someone inhuman.

[whumpiary]

soft landing (part 3)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 content warnings: referenced intimate partner violence, referenced suicide, referenced family violence, caretaker pov

-

They both commit to a nap after lunch that Mal is more than grateful for. He walks Cass to the spare bedroom, asks if he needs anything, and finally goes to crash in his own bed for a few hours. He wakes up to the late afternoon sun just barely leaking through the blinds, and the sound of a guitar being played very quietly down the hall.

When he gets to the spare bedroom, he watches for a minute through the cracked open door. Cass with an old teal acoustic balanced on his knee, awkwardly plucking at strings like he’s trying to remember how a song goes. It pulls at Mal’s heart to see it.

For a moment, suddenly all he wants is to hear a proper song from the old thing.

And that’s when Cass seems to notice him, looking up like he’s been caught out in the middle of something, a sheepish smile on his face as he turns the guitar flat on his lap. “Ah shit, sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Mal waves a hand, “Nah not a bit. Would’ve needed to get up soon anyway.”

“Sorry,” Cass says again. His voice still has the low husk to it of someone barely awake from sleep himself. He gestures to the guitar in his lap. “Wasn’t tryna snoop or anything, just saw it in the corner.”

“All good. Probably good for it to get a work out,” Mal says, stepping into the room. Even from here, he can see the dust built up on the thing, parts polished clean by the brush of Cass’ hands. “Did you sleep any?”

“Little bit,” Cass says. “Moxie kept waking me up though.”

“Nooo,” Mal laughs, “She bop you on the nose?”

“Yeah, then hid under the bed.”

“Sounds about right. She must’ve decided she likes you.”

Cass laughs softly and looks back at the guitar, looking like he’s trying to remember the right hand-shape for a chord. Mal finds himself looking over the room, wondering if Cass did actually sleep or if he just said it because it was the right thing to say. The bed is still made. He could’ve slept on top of the sheets though, Mal supposes. 

It’s then that he spots the phone on the bedside table, sleek and black and clearly new. A much needed upgrade from the third-hand, cracked to smithereens thing Cass’d been toting around just a few weeks ago.

He points to it, smiling, using the excuse for a conversation stoker, “Hey, finally got an update. Well done.”

Cass looks across at it, and then away again, and suddenly shame seems to be etched into every inch of his skin. Mal bites down on his tongue so he doesn't cringe, and makes the mental note to surgically remove the foot from his mouth a little later.

“...He likes buying me stuff,” he says after a few moments, tone somewhere between defence and confession. “New clothes. Dinners out, shit like that.”

Mal sucks in a slow breath. It’s the sort of thing that maybe wouldn’t be worrying in and of itself but it certainly paints… a particular picture. 

“I thought it was kinda sweet at first,” Cass says, soft-sad smile on his face. “Kinda reminds me of Josiah, that sort of thing, you know? The take-care-of-you thing.”

Mal nods. Gives half shrug, leaning against the doorway, “I get that.”

“Yeah, but you know how it goes,” Cass says, tone light like he’s setting up for a punchline. “One day they’re buying you nice shoes and shouting you dinner, the next day they’re covering your rent and you're wondering when your blowjobs went premium.”

He tosses across a devil may care grin that doesn’t land even a little. Mal presses his lips together. It’s the sort of thing, he knows, that would be easier and smoothed over if he laughed along with the joke. But it’s not really a joke. It’s curdled, razor-edged, self deprecating. Insult dressed up. 

Cass seems to catch the hint. He sobers a little, sniffs, his thumb running along the grain of the blanket. He shrugs. Maybe trying for nonchalant in lieu of humour. That doesn’t land either. 

“Dunno,” he says, the sickly smile wilting on his face. “Seemed okay at the time. I was missing shifts because we were hanging out a lot and, I dunno, he felt bad I guess, so he offered to help out. And I figured it’s kinda him paying my bills one way or the other, right? So, whatever. But, um…” He shrugs, bottom lip trembling until he bites down to stop it. “I don’t know. Started making me feel...”

“Dependent?” Mal offers, after a beat.

Cass breathes a laugh, looking up with a grin and dead eyes. “Like a fucking whore, actually.”

Mal presses his lips together. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” Cass says with a shrug, looking back down to the guitar. He plucks the E string with thumb and forefinger, sound reverberating out to the walls and back. “Not your fault.”

“No, I’m sorry someone made you feel like that,” he corrects. “You deserve better.”

Cass seems to still at that; the absent, tertiary movements of his body pausing unnaturally like he’s caught in time for a moment. He glances somewhere at Mal’s knee, and then goes back to plucking at the same string again. 

“I don’t want you thinking he’s a bad guy or something,” Cass says, like the thought has been poking at him the whole conversation. “He wasn’t making me feel like that on purpose, you know? He was just trying to look after me.”

“You don’t have to defend him.”

“I’m not defending, I just don’t want you thinking it was something that it wasn’t,” he says, insistent. “He’s a good guy.”

Mal gives him a look. Can’t help himself. “I mean he hit you, mate.”

“Yeah, but even that… That was mostly an accident anyway, you know? Like he apologised and stuff. He didn’t mean it.”

Inhale. “Right.”

“Like that’s my whole point, it was over the line but he didn’t mean to go over the line.”

Exhale. “Okay.”

“We’d both done a couple lines, you know? Had a few. And we were arguing and I was egging him on and shit, being an asshole. And it just… you know, it escalated. It wasn’t a big deal.”

So why are you here then, Cass? Why were you crying on my couch? 

The words keep coming. 

“And I’m not… look, I’m not stupid, alright? I know he shouldn’t have hit me. I know it’s fucked up that he’s my boss, and, and older, whatever, I know all that I’m just saying he’s not like, some psychopath abuser or something you know, he’s, he’s fine, he’s-”

“A good guy.”

“A good guy,” Cass echoes. “Right.”

“Right,” Mal echoes back. He can practically feel the clap on his shoulder, a firm handshake of one of his parents’ colleagues. Good guy, that dad of yours, isn’t he?

Cass doesn’t look at him, just frowns at the guitar in his lap like he’s seeing something else, thumb brushing the strings without quite strumming. He plucks a single string and the sound reverberates in the quiet like a stone down a well.

Mal nods to it, suddenly desperate for any other topic. “Do you play?”

“Not really,” Cass says, screwing his nose up. Another dull pluck. “Bits and pieces I guess.” He looks up, half-expectant. “You do though?”

Mal blows his cheeks out. “Not in about a million years.” He absently reaches his hand out for the guitar at the same time as Cass absently offers it up to him. He dusts the body with the heel of his hand as he positions it against his chest. “Poor bloody thing’s been so neglected I’m surprised it’s in tune.”

“Pretty sure it’s not,” Cass says, tucking his hands under his thighs. “Tried to fix it but...”

Mal hums and makes one broad, open strum, only to wince at the clash of it. Definitely out of tune. But not as bad as it could be. He fiddles with the tension of the strings, tuning by ear. 

“Who’s Becks?” 

Mal’s stomach flips and he looks up, alarmed at the question. Cass searches his face before pointing to the body of the guitar, along the side, beneath, “The stickers.”

Mal exhales, knot in the middle of his gut loosening just a fraction. Right. Course.

“Old friend of mine,” he says. Old grief pangs in his chest like a second heartbeat, sure and steady. He goes back to tuning the last two strings. 

“She get a new guitar or something or she just didn’t want to play anymore?”

“No, she, um.” He breathes a soft, sad laugh, just to unwind the tension around his ribs. Just breathe. No big deal. Years old wound. Just say it, “She didn’t make it.”

“As in…?”

“As in she didn’t make it,” he repeats, looking up to give Cass a sad smile. “We were kids. Life was hard. She didn’t make it.”

Cass holds his gaze for a few moments, soft frown on his face as he processes what he’s being told. Mal can see the moment it clicks.

“Oh,” Cass says softly. “Sorry.”

Mal waves him off and goes back to tuning, “Don’t be. All good. Happened a long time ago.” He glances up to give what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “She’d be pissed at me, actually, that it’s so out of tune.”

For a few minutes there’s no sound in the room but the tuning of it. It sounds like a lonely thing, glad for company again. Or maybe Mal’s just projecting a little hard.

“Nice that she left it to you,” Cass offers up.

“Yeah. Well...” he goes to shrug it off and then glances across. He smiles. Cass would probably appreciate this story, actually. “She didn’t have a will exactly. I asked her parents if I could have it. That and a few other things at her place. Knick knacks. Presents I’d bought her. Nothing worth much but they meant something to me. But they hated my guts. Anything to keep me from her. Said no. But to be honest Becks hated their guts. So I figured the only fair thing to do was…”

He looks up, thumb hovering over the C string, and gives Cass a grin.

Cass’ brows shoot up and he laughs in surprise, “Shit, you stole it?”

“Just about, yeah. Had a whole plan. We used to sneak into each other's houses all the time so it wasn’t like it was new territory. Just break in, grab the guitar, go.” 

He can still see that house. Smell it. Remember the exact number of steps between the back fence and her bedroom window.

Cass prompts him, “But…?”

He sucks in a breath and sighs it out. “But when I got there, I didn’t need to bother. They’d put it out for hard rubbish. Hadn’t even bothered trying to sell the thing just… out on the nature strip next to a bedframe and a broken set of drawers.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence. And then Cass scoffs. “Fuckin’ hell…”

Mal smiles. The incredulity is kind of sweet. “But… Luckily, I saw it before collection. Saved it. Cleaned it up. She’d be chuffed you picked it up, actually. She loved teaching people.” He finishes tweaking the E string and picks the riff in Heartbreak Hotel to test the tuning. He passes it back to Cass, “Should be right for you now if you wanna have a proper play.”

But Cass’ hands are gripping tight to the edge of the bed, that same ready-to-bolt look to him he’d had when he’d first arrived. “I… was actually thinking I’d head off soon.”

Mal blinks, a little surprised. They’d talked over lunch about him maybe staying for a couple days.

But Cass has the reasons all ready, “I have some stuff still at Andrew’s. Clothes. And my wallet and stuff. And I was just thinking about it and I’d prefer to just… you know. Go and get it now before shit gets weird.”

“Sure,” Mal says. He feels like something is slipping between his fingers. Like trying to hold onto a rope that’s being taken by the tide.

“Or, you know,” Cass continues with a laugh, visibly jittery, putting the guitar to the side. “Before he puts it out for hard rubbish…”

Fuck the tide. Mal grabs the rope. “Would you like a lift?”

Cass pauses. That’s something, at least. Even if the next second he’s shaking his head, “Um, nah. All good. It’s not that far on the bus, and you’ve had a long day…”

Mal tries again, “Would it be easier if you had a lift?”

He hesitates. Chews his cheek. He runs his thumb down the top string of the guitar, just barely enough contact to make a sound. “...Yeah. Yeah, it would.” He can’t make eye contact and his voice is small but it doesn’t matter. He’s saying yes to help. That’s everything. “Please.”

“Too easy, then,” Mal says with a nod. “I’ll go grab my keys.”

[loveaboveeverything]

BOO GET SCARED AAAAAAAAAAA im here to jumpscare you with an ask like we're back in september/silly BUUUUTTT since ive been thinking abt my s41 ocs id like to hear about your guys :3

do/did u have anything fun planned with them ?? any fun tidbits to share abt them ?? and would any of them get along with my guys...(atomu kaaya my son we won't name/silly)

RAAAAAAAAA WE ARE SO BACK!!!!!!!!!! the good ol days ....

teehee the silly thing is that i have nothing planned for anyone except for their basic backstories T-T i was thinking about the tsukacchako inspired ocs being the first "three person round" of alien stage cause normally weve seen them do only two but thats just an idea OR something would happen with one of them causing them to pull out of the competition but id really like for the three of them to compete ....

i know i definitely need to start thinking about how the tsukacchako ocs (i need a name for the three of them T-T) got together, that could be fun to write in the future .... i also need to think more about their like characters without making them copies of tsukacchako, cause like i said before theyre just like skeleton versions right now they need more MEAT

now onto ur sillies .... i def think hoshiko would get along with all of them!!! in my head rn shes kinda like cindy but way less naive and not AS nice (like, not "make flower crowns for everyone in the class" nice but still "goes up to everyone and starts a conversation" nice). i think shed like kaaya the most out of ur sillies, i can see her going up to her and saying "ur hairs pink like mine!! and i love ur clips!! do you like space?" shed prob like minwoo the least tho, shed think his attitude would ruin the vibes

amane is definitely civil with the three of them, but i dont think amane would be like FRIENDS with them. i dunno how secretive the siblings would be about their lil things but i can see amane figuring it out at some point i dunno what amane would do about it but amane would find out

nariko doesnt really like anyone so she wouldnt like them T-T if theyre around minwoo when he says something self-deprecating theyd probably be like "yeah thats right youll never be like me IM the main character!!!" i can see her liking (altho liking is a strong word) atomu the most, she sees his determination and dedication and if atomu ever asked for help with singing or like rehearsing shed probably (after a while) say yes

you already know this but out of the three wade is interested in minwoo the most. hed definitely make comments about the siblings' secrets though, just to tick them off a little :3 hed make comments about minwoo too but they wouldnt be with the intention to hurt just to be a little silly goofy

WHAT ABOUT YOU!!!!!! anything about ur sillies? what would they think of mine?

[thelampisaflashlight]

From your socially awkward Dewdrop post:

“he's overwhelmed and trying not to have a breakdown in the kitchen at 7am”.

… what if he did have a breakdown in the kitchen at 7am? What if he’s trying to keep it together as his bandmates are talking loudly/shouting in the background and he just can’t. What if the ghouls suddenly sees their aloof and stoic ghoulfriend having a breakdown at the kitchen counter?

I have had many thoughts on this.

I'm imagining it being, like, the first time it actually happens in front of them all like that, because he can usually just walk off somewhere or distract himself.

But, like, this time he's stuck in the back corner of the kitchen.

He's boxed in by the coffee machine and he just.

He can't get out, and, like, normally that would be fine, but it's suffocating.

He's not awake enough to really process the world around him yet, and he doesn't feel good.

He can't even get to the sink to get a glass of water, because someone is blocking it, and he could ask them to move, but then he has to actually talk and then they might realize he's not looking too good and ask too many questions and honestly?

He feels like that would be so much worse than just standing around and suffering like this.

But it's... it's nauseating just standing there, and Sunny, fuck he loves her, but she hasn't stopped talking in almost ten minutes now and Swiss is chattering right along with her, and whatever Rain is cooking smells off on an empty, churning stomach and he just...

He can't.

He can't.

He's at his limit, and if he can't get out-

Thinking too hard is making his heart rate jump, and that's making him feel too warm, being too warm is making his stomach feel worse, and, fuck it's too much all at once and he...

"Dew?"

"Dew are you okay?"

"Is he... is he crying?"

He's so pathetic.

Aether tries to reach out, touch his shoulder and he can't.

The feeling of his warm palm sitting there makes him flinch, overloads his senses and he wants-

"Move."

"Dew-"

"Let me out!"

"Dew, it's-"

"Just get out of the way! Just fucking move, okay?!"

The kitchen goes quiet.

Awkward shuffling, bodies pressed together to make room for him to pass by.

And, fuck, does that feel so upsetting in and of itself.

He starts shaking just trying to put one foot in front of the other.

And when he finally gets out of the room, he just wobbles his way out of there until he's somewhere out of sight and can curl up on the floor.

Stomach turning.

His hands feel cold, but his head feels hot, and he's stuck between trying to warm himself and needing to cool down.

The world is spinning and closing his eyes both makes him feel better and infinitely more awful as he just...

Tries to exist.

And when he starts to come down from the rush of it all, he just feels guilty.

Feels bad for yelling.

Starts thinking about how the others are probably saying shit, like how he's being a real brat this morning, or calling him bitchy or something else and he just...

He hates it.

And somewhere between kneeling there, unable to do more than cry and worry, and self deprecate...

He tries to regain his indifference.

Push it all back down.

But he can't.

He can't do it this time.

"Dew?"

He breathes.

"Dewy bear... You okay?"

Cumulus.

"That's a silly question, huh. I know you're not... Can I touch you?"

Dew sniffles.

"Y-Yeahh..."

Cumulus rubs his back in soothing circles, scratching along his spine every now and then.

"It's a lot today, huh?"

Dew whimpers, "Mn..."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"...I dunno..."

"We can take it slow... You want a hug?"

Dew unfolds enough to wrap his arms around Cumulus, who lets him settle against her before moving to pet his hair.

"What set you off in the kitchen, gumdrop? Huh?"

Dew fiddles with a strand of Cumulus' hair, "...Loud."

"Louder than usual?"

"No... just... a lot."

Cumulus rocks him a bit.

"Anything else?"

"...Smells..."

"Mn, yeah, Rainy was making sausage." she hums, "Food's kinda hard in the morning when you're not awake yet, yeah?"

Dew nods.

"And the room was pretty full, so you couldn't get away from it, and it was noisy on top of all of that. Pretty overwhelming."

"Yeah..."

"How'd you sleep last night?"

Dew yawns.

"Off and on..."

Cumulus nods.

"Do you need to go back to bed? You think it'll help?"

Dew shakes his head, "Maybe... water?"

"Water? Okay. Yeah, we'll get you some water..." she says, "Do you want me to get it, or do you want me to stay here?"

"Stay here."

"Okay, okay... I'm gonna text Aeth, unless you would prefer someone else brings it?"

"...Don't wanna get lectured..."

"He knows better than to do that, but I'll personally kick his butt if he does, yeah?"

"Okay..."

[literaticat]

A while ago I was in a social setting with an editor who said that they "had to" acquire a romantasy to "fill a gap in my list" even though they felt meh about the genre, because their imprint was pressuring them to take on books with more commercial potential. Is this a common thing? It seems contradictory with what editors and agents are always saying about having to fall in love with a book to work on it. I feel bad for that author, ngl.

Editors do have to work on books that are successful if they want to continue to be gainfully employed. It is fairly common that an editor would have certain kinds of "quotas" they might be looking to fill, based on what they have acquired in the past and the makeup of their list and the imprint's list as a whole.

Like let's say that an editor has mostly acquired Picture Books, but their imprint doesn't have any Big Fantasy MG scheduled for 2027 -- that's a hole in the list, and sure, their boss might say something like "you should look for a Big Fantasy MG!"

Just as, if an agent has A LOT of one kind of book on their list, it stands to reason that they would want to diversify and be actively trying to get DIFFERENT kinds of books signed up! You can't have all your eggs in one basket, right?

(It's a little less likely that an agent would feel OUTSIDE pressure to do that -- most agents kind of can create whatever list they want -- but I'm sure it would have crossed their OWN mind even without a boss saying so, it just feels like common sense).

So if this editor's own taste is more "literary" or "esoteric", and they have acquired lots of those books already, it could well be that their boss encouraged them to look for a more highly commercial book. That doesn't mean they hate that book, or they ONLY acquired it because they were told they had to, or anything like that -- just that it kinda goes against the grain of what they ordinarily might look for.

(That's actually GOOD for them -- hey, I used to say I ONLY wanted to work on YA books, and now I do all kinds of books -- growth is a good thing! We find things we love in unexpected places!)

It sounds like that wasn't great phrasing on the editor's part, and I'm guessing they'd be mortified if they realized that what they probably intended to be just a nothingy kind of small talk or a lightly sardonic kind of comment about the market generally came across as publicly complaining about a specific book or author on their list.

Like, I have definitely said something like: "Too bad I don't like ROMANTASY instead of all these weird little-kid books, I guess I'll never be RICH!" -- which I intend to be a semi-self-deprecating and also semi-market-deprecating joke, not an insult to any romantasy author OR to my "weird" authors! But I could see, if the person I was talking to didn't know that, that it could sound mean-spirited or something.

I dunno, basically, TL;DR, sure, editors sometimes are encouraged to pursue projects that are not their "normal" things in order to fulfill the broader goals of their imprint, but that isn't a bad thing, and it doesn't negate the "falling in love" part. They still do have to feel like they will be able to read this book over and over, and believe that it will be successful, and all that good stuff!

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP Wednesday

A longish one for a WIP but have been toying with this conversion for a fair old while and it contains one of my most persistent headcanons for Scott.

Set in mine and @sofasurf’s ‘Scott finds a friend he can talk to’ story but you don’t need much of the backstory for this part only that ten years beforehand he saves her in Bereznik but thought he’d failed and made things worse and got her killed.

Is fairly dialogue heavy and that might need some adjustment and it possibly suffers from not including the first half of the conversation but that is less well progressed is is more backstory dependent so I’ll leave it out for today and… <insert more disclaimers and self deprecating blathering here> eh… *throws words*.

If you read it me know what you think? Do you agree?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“So… we covered my fatal flaw and I think we’ve established I would be a very tragic but ultimately tedious Greek hero. Your turn… what do you think yours might be?”

“Probably the same as yours.”

“Uh uh no, that’s cheating, you don’t get to steal mine. Pick your own. Or… I guess you could pick Dare but I warn you I have some pretty evil ideas for those.”

He spun the question card between his finger and thumb for a few moments then placed it down carefully and picked up the cafetière and topped up their coffee cups in a transparent effect to buy time. Estera was surprised to see him absent-mindedly adding a lump of sugar into his. Scott never had sugar! She was about to question this deviation but he suddenly spoke up:

“Alright I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?”

“Because I’m not good at explaining these things and it might sound like something it isn’t. But it’s not that. It’s just… people tend to panic.”

“At this rate you’re more likely to freak me out with the disclaimers, Blue. But sure, I promise.”

He emitted a short sharp laugh and then downed half his cup of coffee, his eyebrows twisting comically as he registered it tasting sweeter than usual.

“I live in the here and now.”

Not what she was expecting. Estera did her best to maintain a neutral expression so as to not give him reason to think she wouldn’t keep her promise.

“Ok. Tell me why you think that is a flaw.”

His lips twitched silently as he appeared to be about to speak then caught himself three or four times before:

“I mean I don’t have a very clear concept of anything beyond now. I don’t imagine my future like most people seem to… like my brothers do.”

She went to speak but held back sensing there was more.

“I’ve never really pictured myself as old, for example. Or with kids… I do love kids, you probably figured that out by now… but I figure I had my shot at parenting with Alan and Gordon and… well they turned out ok I guess so… you know… I did my bit there.”

“I think you’d be a be a great father.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it! Sorry that sounds weirdly big headed… um… I mean I think it would come naturally to me but I just can’t… see it? I don’t think I’m destined to see it.”

“Why not?”

“Dunno. Just always had the feeling I wasn’t here for the long haul? Live fast die young, you know? Had a bit of a hedonistic streak in my late teens which, uh, the less said about that the better I think. But then after… when I thought you…”

He paused and downed the rest of the cup and returned it to the saucer with a clatter than made them both flinch

“Sorry! Uh, when I thought you were dead, that I’d failed you by storming into a situation like the arrogant flyboy I was” he held up a hand to forestall her objection “And I still didn’t die out there against all the odds… Well, I figured that whatever time I had left I had to use it well. I wanted to make up for failing you by helping as many people, doing as much good as I could. Actually thought about training as a paramedic but then Dad came up with the Big International Rescue Idea and everything suddenly made sense.”

Estera was struggling to keep the promise about not freaking out.

“Are you saying you’re only planning to be here as long as you are useful?”

“No! No, see, that’s not what I mean. I would never… I have no desire to, stop. That’s not what it is. I know I’m needed. I can do good. I want to be here. I’ve not got a death wish, whatever Virgil yells at me down the comm.”

Estera suddenly had a vivid recollection of the voice in the cave, before Scott had cut him off. At the time she’d thought the almost-growl she heard over the comm had betrayed barely-contained irritation and had wondered a little at the professionalism of that but now she’d met Virgil… now she really thought about it she wondered if in fact the tension in his voice had been fear.

“So why would you say that is your fatal flaw?”

“I guess maybe it means when I have a decision to make in the moment I only make it based on that moment. Can I make a difference or not? Can I save them or not? I believe my brothers have other considerations, dreams they instinctively hold on to, which complicate those decisions.”

“I see.”

She sipped her own coffee and watched him slump into his chair.

“You think I’m crazy don’t you?”

“No.”

“But…?”

“But… nothing. I can see how your logic works and it matches what I’ve seen of your personality and your actions.”

“Mmmmm and you’ve told me off for it before.”

“I have.”

She nudged the last scone in his direction and then cleared her throat.

“The part I don’t agree with is that not being able to see past the short term means you won’t have… or don’t deserve a long term. I wonder if you’ve been telling yourself a lie all these years because you were afraid of not being able to predict every outcome of your actions. So you told yourself that if you don’t see it it doesn’t exist so it doesn’t matter.”

He frowned, but didn’t disagree.

“What future do you see for your brothers?”

He snorted “Oh, Virgil will have about twelve children if he has any say in it.” His shoulders relaxed as he smiled fondly “Gordon too would love a family I am sure of that. John… I think when space gets too much for him, academia will call. Alan… I don’t know yet. He’s a little too much like me” Scott’s jaw twitched slightly “but I’m trying to encourage his other interests, he likes racing cars and his gaming stuff. And he’s smarter than any of us so he could be anything he wanted. Maybe he’ll make incredible discoveries or be an explorer.” He chuckled affectionately “Or he’ll go entirely rogue and be world president or something.”

“I’ll remember to stay on his good side then!”

“Probably for the best.”

Scott chuckled and the smile remained on his face but seemed to leave his eyes. He had stopped eating the scone but was rapidly turning it into a pile of jammy crumbs. Estera reached over and took hold of one of his sticky hands, resisting the urge to pull out a wet wipe to deal with it.

“Ok how about this… can you imagine yourself watching them achieve these dreams and cheering them on? Being crazy uncle Scott who allows the kids to do all the dangerous stunts their parents would ground them for… buying John’s incomprehensible books to display in your bookcase and pretend you totally read and understood, and cheering Alan on as he’s inaugurated?”

The genuine smile crept back on to his face. “Yeah.”

“Hold on to that then. Next time you’re out. As a reason to stay. Until you find your own.”

He looked up at her in surprise and appeared about to say something when he was thrown nearly off his chair by a small human cannonball slamming into his side.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[kingtrash-fox]

Thinking about infinite and Mephiles in a they can see through the 4th wall very far in a meta sense kinda way again and infinite 100% hates himself after forces. Especially if he knows he’s actively being mocked over stupid things like a non canon fight or a corny line he said once.

Like whatever self hype he had for himself died the moment Sonic came back along with another version of himself and that one guy he actively could not kill for done reason.

He knows damn well he’s an idiot for leaving Sonic alive but after forces he knows damn well 90% of the other villain have done the same and yet he’s the exception cause he was too edgy.

He 100% hates seeing ship art of him and gadget as a couple especially considering that Mobian was more a gnat that kept messing up every step of the way,

(This isn’t me hating on the ship, I don’t see the appeal but yall do yall but I know damn well he would hate it)

He hates everyone that mocks him for being in the “meta era” whatever that means and he hates being mocked for exsisting. His inferiority complex just evolves into self deprecation cause even when handed a chance in the calendar event to get back at everyone he’s like “what’s the fucking point the shit ain’t gonna go well” and just stays in Null Space.

He had one chance to make him proud of himself and honor his fallen teammates, and be cool as a bonus, and immediately became the butt of the joke unceremoniously.

On the opposite side of the coin we have Mephiles who’s more remembered for being named after a state or city and Fortnite (no hate to the dubs i just have this gut feeling you mention Tennessee he will kill you) rather than his role in throwing reality to hell in 06.

The worst part is he has been trapped in goddamn limbo for a nearly 2 decades and knows that one half of him is in another dimension entirely, the shell of his true self (this is a theory btw) became the time eater, and he’s been trapped in the thing ever since his timeline was erased.

And the worst part is everyone is glad he’s gone even if they don’t remember him. Shadow didn’t recognize him and not only kicked his ass within 2 minutes, he also knew exactly how to mock him, at this point he probably doesn’t even wanna destroy anything he just wants to leave this hell and exist again only for him to be permanently condemned until hopefully maybe 06 gets remade from the ground up and that’s a big if since we know how Sonic Team feels about half the shit in 06 that isnt Mephiles

What I’m building up to is that these two would be the perfect duo because they would be the only ones to truly understand each other: the mockery, the parody’s, the outright ignorance of their debut existences. Infinite and Mephiles remind me of Goku black and Zamasu but instead of it being like “we have the same goal and vibe” it’s more “you are the only one who can understand and respect me”

Both lost their other parts, their minds, even their chance to exist.

It would be foolish not to try and make this team up work, to make themselves known in the best light of the present, rather than the black light of the past.

Or they would hate each other on sight cause ego or sumthin I dunno with how everyone perceives these two

But like if you exist outside of time and space…

You 100% know how people see you even if you’re not there

[strawbubbysugar]

Hero In Shining Flannel

Y/N x June Sullivan (and hopefully Hello and Goodbye later lol)

CW: Indications of toxic relationship, mentions of bullying/harassment, as well as self-deprecating/depressive/anxious thoughts

_____________ Put under a readmore - PLEASE READ THIS ITS SO AMAZING AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH IVE READ IT A DOZEN TIMES!!!!!!

<3<3<3

~

Buzz.

Marshmallow🧡: Why didn’t you invite me??

A small pit forms in your stomach as you see the text message pop up on your phone. Of course you made another mistake. But…couldn’t you go to the mall by yourself? Is there an unspoken rule that you have to bring your partner with you everywhere you go?

You have no clue. Social rules and relationship rules are confusing and hard to maneuver. Sigh. You adjust your body on the edge of the fountain to a more comfortable position and text them back.

You: Sorry about that, I was just gonna do a quick purchase and leave. I know you like longer trips to the mall but I’m not feeling up to that today

The 3 bubbles pop up on your screen, indicating that they are typing. Not soon after, another text appears.

Marshmallow🧡: Dude it only would’ve been like an extra 20 minutes or something. I’m really hurt that you didn’t bring me with you ☹️

The pit grows larger. You furrow your brows at the “20 minutes” part of the text. Last time they said “20 minutes”, the two of you were there for an hour, and you almost had a meltdown right there in the mall because you needed to leave and get out of that overstimulating environment and they just wanted to keep shopping. But you were their ride, you couldn’t just leave them there. It’s a good thing you had your earbuds with you so you could ground yourself in your music. If you hadn’t had them…well. Let’s just say the trip would’ve gone a lot differently, and not in a good way. That trip only reinforced your rule of “always have earbuds or headphones with you”.

With a resigned sigh, you do the only thing you can. Your fingers shakily type out your response.

You: I’m sorry that you’re feeling hurt. I’ll invite you next time I promise.

The 3 bubbles appear again, and your body tenses in anticipation. After about 30 seconds, the bubbles disappear. You wait for about 10 seconds. Maybe the message is just taking longer to send from a spotty connection or something.

You realize after another 20 seconds that you’re probably not getting a message back for awhile. That’s bad, right? That probably means they’re really mad at you. Your stomach feels like it’s going to implode in on itself.

You hate this. You’re not cut out for this. This is just like high school all over again. Why can’t you do anything right? You should’ve known that they would see your location and want to come along. Why didn’t you invite them in the first place? You know they have anxiety about being left behind! What is wrong with you?? You’re a terrible partner. You don’t deserve-

“Hey, you alright?”

Your eyes snap up to a young blond man standing above you, looking slightly concerned. No no no, you can’t burden a stranger with your issues! You put on your best smile, hoping it’s convincing.

“Oh yeah, I’m good! Thanks for asking.” Please go away, I can’t talk to anybody right now…

The young man’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks like he’s pondering something. After a moment, he gives you a kind smile.

“I dunno if most people who are doing okay cry in the middle of a mall.” He sits down on the edge of the fountain next to you, facing towards you.

Wait, you’re crying right now? When did that happen? Great. Now you’re crying in public and making a stranger worry for you. Goddammit.

Before you can say anything, he speaks again. “Look, you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’ll totally listen!” He taps his fingers absentmindedly. “Or maybe we could go get a smoothie or something and not think about it.”

You just look at this guy, dumbfounded. He would just…do that for you? You try to think and make a decision in the span of a few seconds. You’re now really stressed about the situation with your partner, and you were planning on leaving the mall as soon as possible to get to a safe and controlled environment. But on the flip side, this guy is offering a distraction because he saw you were upset. You get a very kind aura from him, if you’re reading him correctly. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? You know you’d just spiral in anxiety if you went back home right now, anyway. Maybe a good smoothie and talking to someone who isn’t Marshmallow will be good for you.

You can’t bring yourself to keep up the forced smile, so you let yourself just look as anxious as you feel. “I mean…I guess a smoothie sounds good. But…you’re sure? I don’t want to get in the way of your mall trip.”

The man waves his hand dismissively. “It’s no problem at all! I want to help if I can. I’d much rather make someone feel better than mindlessly wander around stores.” He stands up and offers his hand to you with a sympathetic smile.

You take his hand and he gently helps you up before letting go. He puts his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the light, squinting and looking around. “Alright, smoothie smoothie smoothie, show me…smoothies.” He mumbles in a slightly silly voice.

You can’t help but sniffle and chuckle a little bit. “Do you…not know where it is?”

He looks at you, not dropping his smile at all. “I’m gonna be so honest with you, I don’t even know if this mall even has a smoothie place. I just assumed there is one. ‘Cause there’s gotta be, right?”

You softly chuckle again and gesture for him to follow you. “Well, you’d be right. It’s this way.” The two of you start walking down the large corridor towards the food court.

“So,” The man begins. “It’s not lost on me that I’m a total stranger offering smoothies. In our generation, that’s like, unheard of I think.” He chuckles before continuing. “So I just wanted to say here and now that if you get uncomfortable or your social battery dies, you can totally tell me to leave. The last thing I want is to make your day worse. So just do what’s best for you, alright?” He gives you that kind smile again.

You return his smile. For real, this time. Not forced. “Thanks. I appreciate that. A lot.”

“Of course!” He chirps. He suddenly sticks his hand out to you. “By the way, I’m June.”

You shake his hand politely and tell him your name. “Nice to meet you, June.”

You two break the handshake and he just doesn’t stop smiling. His positivity is infectious. “Likewise.”

The two of you walk in semi-comfortable silence for a minute or so until you make it to the food court. You scan for a moment before pointing off to the left. “There’s the smoothie place. Well, it’s not only a smoothie place. But you know what I mean.”

You look over at June, and notice he’s still staring around at the food court, and he’s finally lost his smile. Your brow furrows in slight concern. “June? You okay?”

That breaks him out of whatever thoughts he was having. “Yeah,” He shakes his head a bit and smiles again, though this time it’s a bit…sadder than before. “Just kinda reminds me of my old food court.”

He starts walking towards the smoothie place, and you quickly catch up and keep pace with him. “Oh, so you’re not from around here then?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. New around here, kinda getting a lay of the land.”

“Oh! I’d be happy to show you around.” You offer, surprising yourself. You can’t believe you just offered to do that for a total stranger. He could be dangerous, for all you know! But looking at him in his little blue flannel jacket and those headphones around his neck, the way he fidgets and speaks, and just the overall positive vibes he emits, you can tell. He’s a trustworthy dude.

June’s eyes light up upon your offer. “Oh shit, really? That’d be awesome!”

“Sure!” You smile.

The two of you order your smoothies and find a quiet table to sit at and chat.

“So-“ The both of you start at the same time.

“Oh sorry, you can go!” You say first.

June shakes his head. “Nah nah that’s okay, what were you going to say?”

“As much as I want to say ‘no, you go’, I don’t want us to be going in a circle for who knows how long,” You giggle. “So, alright. I’ll go. I just wanted to say ‘Welcome’, I guess. I think that’s what one is supposed to say in situations like this?” You look away, feeling like maybe that’s not the right thing to say.

“But like I’m not saying that specifically because I feel like I’m supposed to, I genuinely am welcoming you here because you seem cool.” You awkwardly freeze, expecting June to laugh at you or make fun of you.

“Thanks! I appreciate the welcome. And for being called cool!” He smiles. “Always nice when people boost my already overinflated ego,” he obviously jokes.

You both laugh for a few moments. It feels…really nice. “So what were you gonna say?” You ask, taking a sip of your smoothie as June answers.

“Ah, I was just going to ask what you do around here. Job, school, that kind of thing! If you don’t mind me asking.”

You shake your head. “I don’t mind at all! I work part-time at a general store kinda near here. It has a dumb name. ‘Everything Ya Need’.” You roll your eyes with a smile just thinking about it.

June snickers a bit. “Ah yeah, I remember seeing that place and loving the name!”

The two of you smile wider at that. “That’s actually really close to where I work. That new repair and parts place, ya seen it?”

You nod your head. “Mhm! Yeah, I know that place. Haven’t been ‘cause I haven’t had a need to, but I think it’s good we’ll have a shop like that around here. Do you like working there so far?”

June puts his chin in his hands and takes a large gulp of smoothie. “Oh definitely!” He nods. “Couldn’t ask for a better job or coworkers.”

“Awe, that’s so good to hear!” You smile, genuinely happy for him.

“What about your job?” June asks. “Do you like your coworkers?”

You clench your teeth and look away for a couple moments. “Um…I guess it’s not as bad now that this one dude got fired. But the store was so desperate for people that at first, they didn’t fire him even when he was literally harassing and bullying me. And you might be thinking ‘well, why didn’t you quit?’ And it’s because I was too scared to. I know my tasks there, I know the people, it’s comfortable. I didn’t want to have to do more job searching and the terrifying interview and go into the unknown where I would have no clue what to expect. Sad, I know.” You sigh and take an ashamed sip of loser smoothie.

June’s eyebrows furrow in sympathy, and he gives you a reassuring smile. “Hey, come on now. That’s not sad, I totally get it. The comfort of routine and the fear of the unknown are super valid. Even if a routine may have something that hurts you, it’s easier…and feels safer to stay with that than to risk doing something new that could…go wrong.” His voice and his smile oddly faltered a bit by the end there. His blue eyes cloud for a moment, seeming distant, as if he’s remembering something.

“Right, yeah. You get it!” You try to break him out of whatever potential bad memories he might be reliving. “Thanks for validating me.”

June’s eyes flicker back to you, and his cute smile comes back.

Wait. What did you just call his smile??

“Of course!” He says, and you hope to heaven above that your face looks normal.

“So, um…” you try to think of something to talk about before you start accidentally making yourself blush more or something. “Is it alright if I ask you why you don’t tie your shoes? At least, I assume it’s on purpose, given that you’ve had a couple chances to tie them. If that is a rude question or too intrusive, I apologize!” You try not to wince at the anticipation of him getting upset with you for asking him that question.

After June swallows a sip of smoothie, he waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, no it’s not rude! You’re all good. I just don’t like them feeling uneven.”

Your eyes widen, and you subconsciously lean a little towards him over the table. “Wait, you hate uneven shoes too?? Oh my gosh, I’m so glad I’m not alone in that!”

June tilts his head to the side a bit with a reassuring smile. “Of course you’re not alone in that!”

You look down at your slip-on shoes, just wanting to peek at them due to them now being the topic of conversation. “Well, that makes me feel better. Nobody I know has ever talked about it. I’ve been late to class a couple times because I had to re-tie my shoes like, 4-6 times to try to make them feel even. It’s so annoying. I’m very thankful for slip-on shoes, that’s for sure.”

June takes another sip of smoothie, and you follow suit. “Geez, yeah that’s rough. I’m glad you got some slip-ons, though!”

“Thanks! I’m glad that I know a fellow even-feeling shoe enjoyer now. It’s validating as hell,” you chuckle, and June chuckles with you.

The nice moment between you two is interrupted by a loud buzz from your pocket. June looks at you curiously as you tense up.

“Oh boy.” You slowly start pulling your phone out of your pocket, cursing your hand for shaking.

You take a moment to gather the courage to look at it, and…you slump down in your chair with relief when you see it’s just a text from your mom asking how your day is going.

“Oh thank fuck,” you exhale.

June looks at you curiously, but obviously seems conflicted due to not wanting to intrude on your personal life. You give him a knowing look.

“It was my mom. I was worried it was going to be my partner,” you take an awkward sip of smoothie.

June’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly, but he quickly composes himself. “Oof.” He also takes an awkward sip of smoothie.

You’re not liking the tense silence now, so you decide to move on. “I don’t really want to spill all of my relationship issues onto you when we just met, even if you’re willing to listen. Which I appreciate, by the way. I’d like for you to associate my presence with…well, not trauma-dumping, that’s for sure!” You chuckle.

June looks a little concerned again for a moment, but lets it go. “I get it. I’d probably do the same thing in your shoes. So…do you want to not think about it for a while?”

You nod your head eagerly. “Definitely. How about that tour I offered?” You ask, slightly desperately.

June shoots you a solid thumbs up while sipping his drink. “Sounds good to me!”

After the finishing of smoothies, you and June throw your cups away and start walking around the mall. You show him your favorite shops, what kinds of other shops are available, and the quietest times of the week. Luckily, June has no problem having a fast tour of the mall so the both of you can leave and explore the quieter town.

As you walk around, you two pass both your workplace as well as the shop June works at, and you end up exchanging some work stories.

“Yeah, I have a knack for scaring the shit out of Matt,” June laughs. “I swear that I try to let him know I’m there before I tap his shoulder! He’s just so easy to spook.”

You giggle at that, imagining a gruff and rugged 40 year old man jumping 10 feet in the air from a little shoulder tap.

“Poor Matt!” You can’t help but smile.

June waves off your sympathy. “Ah, he’s fine. Don’t worry about him!”

“Okay,” you laugh. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You end up telling June a couple of work stories that don’t involve the guy that harassed you, or basically just any negative stories in general. I don’t want to be a Debbie downer. I gotta make sure I’m somewhat pleasant to be around so that I don’t ruin things right out of the gate with him.

The more you walk around town with June, the more you properly forget about your partner being mad at you, and the anxiety in your stomach subsides for a while. Talking with June feels really nice, he’s super understanding, and the conversations flow so easily. You have trouble remembering the last time you had such a pleasant time with someone other than Marshmallow. You furrow your brow as you think about the fact that you don’t really spend time with anyone other than them. Even if you’re with friends or acquaintances, they’re there.

Don’t ignore their anxiety. Their last partner really messed with their head, it’s okay if they want to come with you to places. How selfish can you be?

You’re pulled out of your spiral when June says your name.

“Huh? What?” You ask, hoping you didn’t space out for too long. Ugh, June must think you’re such a scatterbrain!!

“You good?” He asks, with that concerned look again. You hate making him look like that. You want him to smile, you don’t want him to worry about you.

“Yes, thank you.” You smile and shake your head in a futile attempt to clear it. “Um, so…ah.” You gesture to the park that the two of you are currently walking past. “This park is a nice place to chill and relax, at least when there’s not too many people. It’s nice to watch the birds.”

June looks around at the park’s trees with a soft smile. “Hmm. Good to know! Love me a good birb.”

You chuckle at that, focusing on his smile. “Well,” you clap your hands together gently. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, it’s been-“ you check your phone’s clock and your eyes widen. “Holy shit, 2 hours. Damn.” Time really flew by, it felt like 45 minutes…

June holds his hands up reassuringly. “Hey, it’s no problem at all! I really appreciate you taking me around town and showing me where stuff is.”

You nod at him with a small smile. “Absolutely!” You hold out your hand to him, offering a handshake. “Well, June, it was really nice to meet you! Thank you for being kind enough to check in on a distressed stranger. You’re a good dude.”

June returns the handshake, his face looking slightly bashful. Adorable, you can’t help thinking to yourself.

“Of course! Wasn’t just gonna pass you by. It was really nice to meet you as well!” He smiles politely, but it doesn’t look forced, to your relief.

You and June let go of the handshake, and you point your thumb in the general direction of your apartment. “I’m walking this way, which direction are you going in? ‘Cause I don’t wanna do that thing where we say goodbye and then we awkwardly end up walking in the same direction.”

June laughs, and it’s a wonderful laugh. Not one of judgement, not one of teasing, but one of understanding. He points his thumb in a different direction. “I totally getcha! I’m going that way, so we’re good on that front.”

“Okay, cool. Well June, it’s been a pleasure. Maybe I’ll see you around town again sometime.” You shrug casually, hoping you’re giving the correct signal that you don’t expect him to give you more of his time, but letting him know you’re open to spending more time with him.

“Yeah, for sure! That’d be cool.” He gives you a friendly wave and gently says your name. “Take care!”

You grin and wave back at him. “You too!” You watch him walk away, and let out a quiet, contented sigh. You watch June stick his hands in his pockets, just looking at stuff around him as he walks, as if everything he passes deserves to be acknowledged and observed.

You don’t want to be weird, so you turn towards the direction of your apartment and start walking home. Instead of having anxiety again about your partner as you make your way back, you instead think about June. The way he made you feel so validated and understood. How he didn’t judge you, how he was laughing with you, not at you, and how it felt so easy to talk to him. You can’t help but feel really happy at the possibility of seeing him again sometime.

Even if your relationship never makes it past acquaintance status, even if you never talk with him again, you’re thankful for the time you got to spend with him today. He made you feel a little less alone, and made you feel better about some things you were either ashamed of or worried about.

You look over your shoulder, spotting him one last time as he grows further in the distance. Your lips curl into a small smile, your heart feeling full.

Thank you, June.

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Twenty-Eight

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 4712

Harry was quiet during breakfast. He was quiet while I packed and when he took my bags and carried them downstairs. It wasn’t until I joined him in the living room after making sure I had everything that I finally noticed the pained expression in his eyes.

“Harry…” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“God, I hate this part,” he choked, blinking hard and looking at the floor.

“I know,” I agreed.

He let out a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is even harder than last time.”

I nodded, my nose twitching with the threat of tears. I scratched it, pretending that it was only an itch. When I lowered my hand, Harry stepped closer and reached for me. Taking me into his arms, he pressed me against his chest so tightly I could barely breathe. I wound my arms around his back, taking in his scent in order to make a memory. I needed to remember this feeling, his aroma, his heartbeat.

“Have a wonderful tour, sugar,” I whispered as I ran my hands up and down his back. “You’re going to be amazing.”

His chest shook with heavy breaths, and he kissed the top of my head. “Baby, I’m gonna miss you so much,” he declared.

“Harry,” I warned. “I thought we weren’t going to say things like that.”

“Can’t help it now.”

I lifted my face to look at his. Two wet tears trickled down his cheeks and I brought my fingers to them to wipe them away. It shook me to the core to see him cry.

“Stacey, I…” he began with a pause. “I feel like there’s so much I haven’t said.”

I tilted my head. “Like what?”

“I…” Harry seemed to search for his answer but found none. “I dunno. But I worry I’ve run out of time.”

I sucked in my lips, unsure how to respond. Finally, I shook my head and ran my palms down his chest.

“If you think of it...I’ll just be a phone call away.”

“Nothing for me,” I shook my head when the flight attendant asked if I wanted anything to drink.

I bundled myself in my hoodie, the only jacket I’d thought to bring with me as I turned my head back to the right, grateful for the window seat. I blew my nose again in my ratted-up tissue, knowing I’d have to grab another from my purse soon.

My chest shook as I began to sob again, recalling our goodbyes. I wished I’d said something else, something more, something different. But then again, I knew if I had, I’d have watched my world crash and shatter all around me. Perhaps not quite that dramatically, but I knew it had been best not to try to pull words out of Harry that he wasn’t ready to say. Or worse, watch him come to the realization that this relationship wasn’t going to work.

He had so much going for him. He was going to embark on his first solo tour, first of many I was sure. I was going back home to my family, to my job and my writing. I wondered for a fleeting second as I gazed out the window of the plane if Harry would eventually forget about me if I didn’t make any contact of my own. It was a selfish and self-deprecating thought, but one that made me wonder nonetheless.

I thought of the look on his face when I’d released my hand from his grip and followed the driver to the car as he loaded my suitcase into the trunk. Harry looked as though he still had something on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t quite form the words on his lips. He gave a tight smile as he blinked rapidly and waved at me from the doorway. I was holding back my own tears as I sat in the back seat, hoping the driver would drive away before I did something stupid like run back into his arms and tell him I never wanted to leave him.

As another breath shook from my chest, I knew it was no use in reliving the moment. I was on the plane, probably over Arizona by then, and Harry was probably on the phone with Jeffrey or at rehearsals with his band mates, both of us starting the next chapter in our lives.

Wiping my cheeks, I leaned over to pull my headphones out of my bag. I let Stevie soothe me the way she had so many times before in moments of heartbreak. My throat now dry, I wished I had ordered something to drink. But after a couple songs, I felt my eyelids get heavy and I drifted off.

We stood in the middle of the dancefloor. I could hear the music playing, though it sounded far away. Harry’s arms were wrapped around me. I felt safe. I felt secure. But…

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” I heard him say.

I lifted my head to look at him, though I couldn’t read his face.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Don’t...don’t what?”

“Don’t leave.”

My eyes widened as he brushed the back of his hand across my cheek. Then he lowered his lips onto mine, kissing me tenderly.

“Harry…” I whispered as our lips parted. “What...what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t want you to leave. Ever. Stay with me.”

I looked into his eyes that seemed to plead with me silently.

“Harry, I...I can’t. I...have to get home.”

“Your home is with me,” he declared.

“But you’re leaving too,” I argued.

He sighed before leaning his forehead against mine. Then he danced me around in a circle, bringing us back to our original spot.

“Come with me,” he said.

“What?”

“Come along with me, Stacey. Be with me.”

“For the tour?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes. God, yes baby, and for everything else. I can’t be without you.”

“Harry, I have children. I have a job. I can’t just-”

“Bring them too,” he interrupted. “We’ll make it work.”

“Harry, you’re being ridiculous.”

All other sound stopped then, and it felt as though we were both frozen in time, or perhaps in a snow globe, everything around us spinning while we stood still.

“Am I?” he asked.

I made a stop at the restrooms before heading to baggage claim. My eyes were puffy, and I had a line across my right cheek from my hoodie when I slept on it. I looked like a hot mess, and though Lorelei had seen me in much worse conditions, I didn’t want her to know I’d been crying when she picked me up. Originally, the plan was for my mother to pick me up, but she’d taken a shift at her job that morning since the girls were in school. To make up for it, she offered to pick up Jaz and Em and bring them home. I was fine with that, and under the circumstances, I was glad to be facing Lorelei instead.

After touching up my makeup and swallowing some Advil, I made my way to the turnstiles, watching for my suitcase. I pulled out my phone to text Lorelei that I’d arrived when I noticed I had two short texts from Harry.

I miss you already.

Call me tonight if you can.

I figured he meant later tonight after the girls had gone to bed. Not wanting to send a long message for fear I’d start crying again, but still wanting to acknowledge his, I simply replied with an okay. Then I texted Lorelei.

“Hey girl!” she greeted me when I met her at the pick up lane.

She popped open her trunk and I shoved my suitcase inside before joining her in the front seat.

“Hey,” I said with a tight smile.

“How was your flight?” she asked as I buckled my seatbelt and she pulled out of the lane and into the exiting traffic.

“It was okay. Slept most of the way.”

“Oh. That’s good I guess.”

“Hmm,” I sounded.

We were halfway down the block and almost to the freeway before Lorelei spoke again.

“So are you gonna tell me, or not?”

“Tell you what?”

“How did it go? I mean, I know about the party and everything. But...how was it saying goodbye?”

“Awful,” I admitted.

“Oh God, really?” my best friend gasped. “What happened?”

I turned my head and glared at her. “Nothing happened, Lor. We’re okay. It was just...hard to leave.”

“Oh. Well, of course it was. You poor thing.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand before taking the entrance ramp to the freeway. She was courteous enough not to ask me more questions until we neared my apartment, which seemed to only take a few minutes.

“So, Harry’s okay?” she asked. “With the whole paparazzi thing, I mean?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, scratching my nose. “He’s...surprisingly okay with all of it.”

“What do you mean, surprisingly?”

I shrugged. “I just mean...he’s fine with the public knowing about me now. I guess maybe...I figured he’d have some reservations.”

“But why would he? I mean, you are an official couple, are you not? You didn’t just fly out there from some secret rendezvous.”

I nodded, biting my lip.

“As far as I’m concerned,” she added, “he should be thrilled as hell to be seen with you. Plus, and I know this is uncharacteristic of me to say, but you guys are so in love. You’re like a dream couple.”

I managed a slight chuckle as Lorelei turned onto my street. Letting out a sigh, I combed my fingers through my hair.

“He loves you, right?” Lor asked softly.

“‘Course he does. In fact, he doesn’t stop telling me.”

We pulled into a parking spot beside my building and I opened my door. Lorelei, however, stayed sitting behind the wheel, staring at me as though I had snakes crawling out of my ears.

“What?”

“Woman! I adore you, but sometimes I think you’ve a roo loose in the top paddock.”

I snorted and shook my head. “Forgive my lack of Aussie slang knowledge, but what the fuck did you just say?”

“You’re being daft, doll. A bit stupid.”

My face fell as I swallowed, grabbing my purse from the floorboard. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Stacey!” Lorelei called as I rounded the car and waited for her to open the trunk.

I cringed at the humidity as I stood there in my jeans, hating Texas and the heat and everything else. I wanted to be back in California, with the palm trees and the cool breeze. And Harry.

“Stacey, I’m sorry, hon,” Lorelei repeated after she popped the trunk.

I grabbed my suitcase and heaved it onto the ground.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” she continued. “I just think...something happened you’re not telling me.”

“Nothing happened, Lor,” I said. “I already told you. Look, I’m tired. And it’s hot out here. It’s fucking March, for God’s sake! Isn’t it supposed to still be cold?”

“Stace!” she interjected, ignoring my complaints. I stared at her with wide eyes. “Do you wanna talk, maybe? I’m your best friend, doll. I’m here for you!”

The barriers crumbled then and the flood gates opened. Dropping my head and my arms, I began to sob uncontrollably.

“Oh, honey,” Lorelei cooed opening her arms to me. I walked into them and let her envelope me as my shoulders shook. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

Lorelei made a pot of coffee, though it was really the last thing I wanted. What I wanted was sleep. What I wanted was to not be aware that I was here, and he was there, and I wouldn’t see him for a long time. What I wanted was to turn off my brain.

“Talk to me, Stace,” she said softly, setting the mug in front of me before taking the chair across from me at the dining table.

I traced the edge of the placemat, folding it over several times before releasing it and starting again. Finally, I looked up at my friend, her patient face awaiting my first words.

“I really love him, Lorelei,” I mumbled.

“I know that,” she nodded. “And we’ve established he loves you. So what’s the deal?”

“I’m just gonna miss him, is all,” I shifted my eyes to my mug, lifting the hot coffee to my mouth.

“I know that too,” Lorelei insisted. “But that’s not all. Something else had you crying your eyes out just moments ago. Something that happened in California.”

“I told you, nothing happened. Nothing...specific.”

My mind traveled to the incident in the pool when I’d gotten angry, but I decided not to bring that up. I caught the quirk of Lorelei’s brow as I set my mug back down. With a sigh, I rested my elbows on the table.

“Lor…” I began with a pause. “Imagine you’ve set your life on a path, one you thought was what you wanted and what was best for you. But eventually you realized that wasn’t working out, and you changed paths. And along that path something came along that was...different. Something that...made you feel things you didn’t know you could ever feel again. And you start to think...maybe this was the life I was supposed to have...except it came along too late.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes and folded her arms on the table.

“First of all, Stacey, don’t use imaginary scenarios with me. I’m a writer, just like you.”

I scoffed, knowing she was right.

“Second of all, what do you mean by too late? Stace, you have your dream man! How is that too late? Who cares if he’s younger than you. You’re not an old woman! And more than anything, you deserve to be happy! No matter how long it took to find that happiness.”

“But I still have this life to think about, Lor,” I argued. “The life I have here, with my kids.”

“And?” Lorelei shook her head.

“And...Harry’s just getting started. He has a big tour and he’ll be away for months.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lorelei took a sip of her coffee. “So is this really just about you missing him? I don’t buy it. You can be selfish, doll, but not that selfish.”

“I’m not trying to be selfish at all,” I argued. “Just the opposite in fact.”

I sat back and crossed my arms. Then with a shaky breath, I muttered, “I don’t wanna get in the way.”

“The way?”

“Of his dreams, his goals. His life! He has so much going for him. If I ruined any part of it, or kept him from something he always wanted...I’d never forgive myself.”

This time it was Lorelei’s turn to sigh.

“My dear friend,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I think you need to talk to him about this. Obviously I don’t know his feelings on this, but it doesn’t look like you do either. My guess would be that he’s all in. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had you fly out to his home and meet his manager, his friends...his mother! He loves you, and he wants you as part of his life.”

I swallowed hard, looking down at my hands. “He said that.”

I heard Lorelei groan before she rose from the table. “Sometimes, hon, you are too much in your own head. Stop reliving your old insecurities, Stacey. Embrace the now!”

Hearing those words from my best friend brought me back to reality. I knew she was right. I did relive my old insecurities, over and over.

“When does Harry leave for tour?” she asked from the kitchen.

“In a few days,” I replied.

“Talk to him,” she said. “Let it all out in the open.”

“I don’t want to upset him right before he leaves.”

“Woman, are you trying to break up with him?” she asked with her hands on her hips.

“No, certainly not.”

“Then how are you going to upset him? He deserves to know everything you feel, just as you do.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “You’re right.”

“Damn straight.”

“Mommy!”

I was nearly knocked down by Emery when she burst through the door. But I didn’t mind. I held her tight as she wound her arms around me, and we swayed from side to side.

“I missed you so much!” she exclaimed.

“I missed you too, monkey,” I declared, giving her kisses all over her pink cheeks.

Then I gave a smiling Jasmine the same treatment.

“Hello, my sweet girl,” I hummed as I hugged her. “I love you.”

“Love you,” she echoed before puckering her lips.

My mother set her purse down next to Jasmine’s backpack, which told me she’d be staying a while. I’d suspected as much, though I doubted she wanted to hear all the details of my trip but rather wanted to tell me about her weekend. She surprised me, however when the girls went to their rooms, and she followed me into the kitchen with a sly look on her face.

“So, how was it?”

“It was...good,” I replied hesitantly as I took two glasses down from the cabinet.

“Just good?” She raised her brows.

I chuckled nervously. “Okay, better than good.”

I caught the smirk on my mother’s face as I filled the glasses with ice. One thing I’d known about my mom ever since I could remember was that she had a horrible poker face.

“What’s that look for?” I asked.

“Are you not going to tell me anything?”

“I just did.”

“Stacey!”

“Mom!”

She started to laugh then, a gleeful, child-like giggle. I leaned against the counter, feeling myself blush. I was never one to be embarrassed discussing sex, even with my own mother, but for some reason I hadn’t expected her to want the details about Harry and me.

“He’s so cute, Stacey,” she grinned.

“I know he is,” I grinned back.

“I watched him on James Corden and oh…” she made a clicking sound with her tongue as she gazed at the ceiling.

She must have caught a rerun of Harry’s appearance on the Late Late Show, or perhaps caught a clip on Facebook. I figured it was the latter since she didn’t usually stay up late enough to catch it on TV. I realized then that other than maybe seeing a few pictures of him and a glimpse of him on my phone when he’d FaceTimed me on Thanksgiving, my mother probably hadn’t gotten a good look at my boyfriend. I suddenly felt...proud and giddy.

“I love his accent,” she added. “And that smile. He’s just such a hottie.”

“Mom!” I exclaimed again, this time with my own giggle.

“What? I can still think a young man is hot.”

I shook my head as I reached for another glass. “Are you staying for dinner?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, please. And tell me more about your trip.”

My mother left satisfied with my meal and our conversation. I told her more about Harry’s house in detail, as well as Anne and his friends. I had to laugh at her wide eyes when I told her I’d had lunch with Cindy Crawford and James’s wife. I left out the more personal parts of course, but overall, she seemed to be happy for me. Whenever my mother disapproved of my life choices, I didn’t let it bother me, but whether I liked it or not, I had to admit a mom’s approval held a lot of weight.

After putting the girls to bed, their tired little faces bringing me a sense of peace, I went back to the den to watch some television until it was time to call Harry. He’d texted me again earlier, but I’d been eating dinner.

Hi baby, I’ll probably be busy tonight until 10. Just in case you were wanting to call.

I’d sent him a quick reply when I was doing dishes.

No problem. Is 10 your time okay?

He must have had his phone handy because he texted back right away.

As long as it’s not too late for you. Talk to you then. I love you xx

I found an old 80s movie on TV and laughed through the first half until I felt my eyelids get heavy. I laid down with a pillow and a throw, but fatigue took me away sooner than I’d wanted. I’d had such a long, emotional day.

I heard the phone ring, but it sounded far away. Blinking my eyes, I reached for it on the coffee table. Seeing Harry’s name jarred me awake and I sat up.

“Hello?”

“Hi baby. Were you sleeping?”

“Oh, I must have fallen asleep on the couch,” I said, still groggy as I muted the TV. “What time is it?”

“Twenty after,” he replied.

“Oh, sugar, I’m sorry. I was going to call you.”

“No worries, love.” I heard the kindness in his voice. “Do you want me to let you go?”

“No way.”

He chuckled then, and I was immediately transported to L.A., to his house, to the studio, to the restaurant he’d taken me to the night before where he’d sat across from me with his dimpled grin.

“So you made it back okay?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “All in one piece.”

“How are the girls?”

“They’re great. I’m glad to be with them again.”

“I bet they missed their mum.”

“They did,” I commented. “Jaz kept looking at me with a twinkle in her eye like she knew something that she was keeping secret. It was cute.”

“She is cute,” Harry agreed. “How is she doing?”

“Perfect. They’re both perfect.”

“Good.”

“So how was your day after I left?” I asked.

Harry groaned. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what? How was your day?”

“No. Left.”

“Oh.” I laid back down on the pillow and pulled my blanket over me.

“It was okay,” Harry sighed. “Some last minute errands, meeting with Jeffrey. I was out most of the day, so it went by fast. But now…”

His words faded out and I waited for him to finish.

“But now, what?”

“The house is empty without you,” he said.

I chuckled. “I doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Um...because I was only there for a few days. So it’s the same as it was before.”

“I know. Empty.”

I swallowed hard, looking over at the television that displayed a rerun of Seinfeld.

“And lonely,” he added.

“Harry…” I sighed.

“What? I love you and miss you. I’m not allowed to say?”

“No, you are. I’m sorry.”

“Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do.” I hesitated for a moment and then added, “So much it physically hurts.”

“Baby…”

“Teach me how to be strong, Harry,” I choked. “That’s what we should have done while I was there. Because I don’t know if I can last three months.”

“Ten weeks,” he muttered.

“That makes it sound even longer.”

“It’ll be okay, love,” he urged. “The time will go by fast, and each day you’ll hurt a little less because you’ll know you’ve made through one more. Then before you know it, we’ll be together again.”

I sniffled and reached for a tissue on my table.

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” I asked.

“Have to, baby,” he replied. “‘s the only way I could survive too.”

I almost told him about my dream then, the one I’d had on the plane, but quickly decided against it. If we were going to get through this together, I didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. He didn’t need to know the little details about what I secretly wanted that he couldn’t give me.

“Maybe it hurts a little more now because it’s still new,” I commented, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, like a fresh wound because we just saw each other. We need some time to get used to it.”

“That makes sense, too,” he said softly.

Just then I heard a sound coming from the hallway. Sitting up again, I saw a shadow standing near the TV.

“Mommy.”

“Jesus, Em, you scared me. What are you doing up? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” she shook her head, coming towards me.

“Sorry, Harry,” I said into the phone.

“Oh good, you’re talking to Harry?” Emery asked as she sat beside me on the sofa. “Did you ever show him my drawing?”

“Yes I did, and he said it was brilliant. You have talent.”

“He did?” Emery beamed. I could hear Harry chuckling through the phone as my youngest continued in a whisper. “Did you tell him what I said?”

“What did you say?” I asked in a hushed tone too.

“You knowwww.” She gave me big puppy dog eyes and I laughed.

“Um...maybe you should tell him yourself,” I said, handing her my cell.

“Hi,” she giggled with the phone to her ear.

I couldn’t really hear Harry’s end of the conversation, but I figured he’d given her his ever-charming greeting which made her giggle even more.

“Thank you,” she said then. He must have told her he liked her art. She smiled and nodded a few more times, adding a couple more thank yous and yes sirs.

“Um...I told my mom something...yeah...um...I love you and I hope you marry her someday.”

My jaw dropped in shock as I stared at my little girl. I had assumed she meant the love part. I’d forgotten all about the marrying part!

“Emery!” I exclaimed.

“Uh huh….yes...good...yes sir…I love you too...goodnight...here’s my mom…” Em handed the phone back to me then before giving me a quick hug. “Goodnight Mommy.”

I sat in complete embarrassment as I watched my daughter trot back to her room and I lifted the phone to my ear.

“S-sorry about that, Harry,” I muttered. “She has a vivid imagination, you know.”

“I thought it was sweet,” he said.

“She just thinks you’re great,” I added.

“I think she’s great. I think her sister’s great. I think her mum’s great. And I love them all.”

“Harry…”

“Stacey…” I heard him sigh. “I wish-” He cut himself off, paused, then sounded like he was going to say something else but didn’t.

“You wish what?” I asked hesitantly.

“Nothing.”

“Harry. You said yourself we don’t finish our thoughts. That we let things go and then they come back. Tell me.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I wish you would allow happiness into your life.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, a little perturbed by his accusation that I don’t.

“It means...yeah, maybe we’re far apart now. And we will be for a while. And maybe your picture will show up on social media. And maybe we’ll miss each other like mad. But we’re still together. We still love each other. I mean...I’m in love with you. I’m a hundred percent committed to our happiness. Maybe…” he paused, “maybe I’m not asking to marry you right now. But it’s okay if your little girl says she hopes I will. It makes her happy. She’s not hurting anybody. She is so full of joy and happiness. I wish her mum was too.”

I hadn’t noticed the trickling tear on my cheek until his final words. I sniffled and wiped away the tear.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, baby,” Harry added softly. “I just...I want you to be as happy as you make me - all the time.”

“I am happy, Harry,” I cried. “I’m happy when I’m with you. And I’m so, so very happy for you. I’m literally excited for you and proud of you. I just have a hard time when things go right. Because I’m afraid they’ll always go wrong in the end.”

“Who says there’s an end, love?”

With a sigh, I leaned back on the couch. I felt stupid. He was absolutely correct. He knew me so well, inside and out. It scared me.

“Get some rest, baby. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Shh, don’t apologize. It’ll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK | PATREON

[kindsnob]

"how're you always so stubbornly persistent?" (@routinestripes :3c)

——— " ...Persistent? " Ted echoed, the gears in his mind coming to a halt at that one question.

He rubbed the back of his neck. Opened his mouth and closed it again. He was stalling for time; he knew this. And then he let out a chuckle, but it was an awkward, hesitant sound that he didn't know what to do with. He was stubborn, in a way, he couldn't deny that. But hearing that coming from Ozzy... was way too nice for what Theodore Huxley deserved. It just didn't make sense to him.

——— " Um, well, I wouldn't call it that... " He trailed off, searching for the right words, " I guess it's more like-- Not being good at knowing when to quit, even when I should. "

Ted shrugged helplessly, plastering on a smile that looked more self-deprecating than happy. " I dunno why I'm like this. I just... can't stop trying, I guess. That's not really answering anything, though, is it? I'm sorry... I probably sound super pathetic. "