#just normal chocolate chips ones tho so easy enough

[broodygaming]

My nephews and neighbors all came over to help decorate! I’ve no idea how many there are I just know I hate decorating cookies and I’m so grateful they all help every year 🎄🍪

[thepringlesofblood]

banana pancakes: 1 banana, 2 eggs, dash of cinnamon (to taste), salt & vanilla optional. ripe or overripe bananas work best but if its edible it'll be fine.

smoosh banana into banana paste w fork (in a bowl but it doesn't have to be a mixing bowl it can be a normal bowl)

stir in eggs thoroughly

add cinnamon (i usually do a heavy pinch/1 tsp but its up to you)

if you got em, add a drop of vanilla and a dash of salt

cook in frying pan like you'd cook smaller-than-average pancakes.

CAUTION: they are much more delicate, and stick more easily - use a lot of butter/oil, even on a non-stick pan, and be careful when flipping to get as much of it as you can on the spatula before you flip it.

I usually eat these w a small-medium amount of butter w/out maple syrup bc they're so sweet naturally. (for comparison - when i get normal pancakes i smother that shit in butter & maple syrup. these babies actually stand on their own really well)

bam. banana pancakes.

gluten free, dairy free, nut free, soy free, one bowl one pan one spatula one fork, it's 3 things and if times are desperate you don't really need the 3rd one (cinnamon).

variants/tips under the cut

tumeric - add a lil pinch of tumeric (1/8 tsp) and a dash of salt and black pepper. if your spatula's white or you put them on a white plastic plate it WILL stain tho. my mom does this one bc her doctor wants her to have more tumeric in her diet and i gotta say its pretty tasty.

oatmeal: add 3-4 tablespoons (≈1/4 cup) oatmeal, ideally quick-cooking or other small grain oats. gives them a bit more body, especially if you only have time to make one thing for breakfast and you need some grain to start your day. not as flavorful but gets the job done - all 3 major food groups are accounted for (protein - egg, fruits/veggies - banana, carbs/grain - oats)

other spices: if you don't have cinnamon, no worries, just be sure to add a lil salt. other things that can go well in here include: vanilla, nutmeg, cardamom (but really only a tiny pinch), cloves (again, tiny pinch), a light drizzle of molasses, almond extract (tiny tiny drop), tumeric & black pepper (see above). dried ginger doesn't tend to go well unless paired with something stronger, and sesame seeds/poppy seeds get burnt before the the pancake is actually done cooking.

halving this recipe is very easy if you only have half a banana or one egg! that said bc it's only two things, you really can't substitute anything except spices.

mix-ins like chocolate chips and blueberries tend to not work out bc the pancakes are so thin - if you're going to be mixing anything in, make sure it's very finely ground or chopped.

you could use an immersion blender or food processors or something to smoosh up the bananas but i dont have one so i can't vouch for that technique. i just do fork and it works great, plus you can wash off and reuse the fork to eat the pancakes w once you're done, save on dishes.

don't add sugar. bananas, especially ripe ones, are sweet enough, trust me.

Do any of u have decent recipes that are like 5 ingredients (not including spices) and take 45 mins or less to prepare i gotta stop eating sandwiches for dinner

[batmomhoe]

Hiya! I love love LOVE your stuff! Could you please do a batsis!reader where shes just come to the manor and is super punk (like dyed hair, piercings, leather jacket, all that jazz) and everyone thinks he hates them but one day they find her baking in the kitchen at like 1 am and find out she has the baking skills of a god and she was baking for them? Idk I like baking and thought this would be Finn

I LOVE THIS IDEA I'm sorry if it's short

Genre: Fluff || Warnings: None || Characters: Batfam, Batsibling(Reader)

Honestly, not gonna lie, the first time you walk into the manor everyone is going to be kinda done with the punk attire

Tim especially is mentally like "oh great another alt sibling that's going to emotionally berate me"

But don't get me wrong, they all keep an open mind and are nice to you

Well, some are nicer than others

Dick, Steph, and Jason are more outgoing and immediately welcoming than the others

Jason just really admires your leather jacket tho tbh

Damian is already Fed Up™ with your extra attirée but per his father's request he's cordial with you though keeps his distance

Duke is about the most normal person in the house and he treats you normally

Though he's most hurt about your apparent hatred of him (besides dick that is but dick is dramatic about nearly everything)

But... The night they find you up in the kitchen changes everything...

You decided not to join in the extra curricular activities the rest of the family participates in at night. The idea of fighting crime gave you a bit of anxiety and not to mention you didn't have an inkling of proper training beyond punching a few bully's noses in. So, you found yourself alone in the ridiculously large manor, Alfred being downstairs aiding at the batcomputer. It was obvious the family was apprehensive about you and it twisted your insides knowing you came off as abrasive and unapproachable. Though granted, the rest of the family did too, but not to each other.

In your short time at the manor you observed how easy it was for them to talk with each other, to joke around and play fight. More than anything you wanted to join in but everytime you spoke your words and actions just came out wrong, making you sound angry rather than playful. To make up for the confused ill will you decided to make your new family a sort of offering.

The Wayne Manor kitchen was larger than anything you were accustomed to, but that just made it all the more fun! Your baker's heart was in absolute heaven at the sight of the four ovens and stand mixer. This was going to be a blast. And so, you set about making various treats, your music playlist bumping in the background, adding the perfect soundtrack to your escapades.

An hour later and you had a perfect batch of muffins and tray of chocolate chip cookies setting on the counter. That was just the beginning too as you slid the banana bread and second batch of cookies into an oven each. After reassuring yourself that it was definitely enough food, you set about cleaning up the kitchen a bit.

"What the- Oh, (Y/N), it's you," Jason's voice boomed through the kitchen, his first words worrying that he was readying to attack an intruder.

A few of the siblings trailed into the kitchen after him, Dick taking a moment to inhale deeply, "Mmmm, oh my god that smells good. I didn't know you bake!"

"You never asked," you replied flatly before mentally cursing yourself you were supposed to be nicer, "I uh, I made this stuff for you guys."

"Tch, for us? Why?" Damian scoffed and planted himself on a barstool behind the marble island.

You took the dish towel off the blueberry muffins and moved them onto a plate, "To thank you. I appreciate you accepting me into the family. And I wanted to show that..."

Behind you, Duke gently approached you and held his arms open for a hug, which you accepted happily, "(Y/N)! You didn't need to thank us! We're just happy you're here!"

"Shut up Duke! Holy fucking shit. You can bake as appreciation any time you want this is literally like god tier," Steph proclaimed as she savored the warm muffin in her mouth and you almost thought you saw tears in her eyes.

The rest of your new siblings looked quizzically at the blonde and caved, each reaching for one of your goodies. As they tasted the creations you got an overwhelming amount of praise. Once again reminding you why you immediately loved this family. And as you watched them simultaneously scarf and savor your treats you knew just the way into their hearts: their stomachs! Though, unbeknownst to you, you had no baking to do, already firmly planted on the list of people they cared about, despite your short time spent with them.

[raitrolling]

Present Day, Present Time

[Easy Reading Version on Toyhou.se]

-- alluringMisdirection [AM] began trolling autonomousMachinations [AM] --

AM: Oh shlt slnce when was lt your bday??

AM: All g tho, l got a place ln mlnd ;)

AM: Obvlously lt’s gonna be a secret, so don’t even bother asklng! Surprlse partles are the best partles, y’know. And lt’s gotta be good for the blg 1-0!

AM: So you better get hype- or, as hype as whatever’s posslble for you 8)

-- alluringMisdirection [AM] ceased trolling autonomousMachinations [AM] --

Callan stood in the homewares section of one of Block 136’s many low-end department stores, hands on his hips and tapping his foot in mild irritation. Predictably, he’d be caught off-guard by Gerrel’s mentioning of his wriggling day coming up. He didn’t forget, of course, he just- Wait, did Gerrel ever mention it before? They’ve known each other for a while and Callan had definitely made him put his wriggling day into his stupidly busy schedule, but he legitimately cannot recall if the redblood had brought up his own before. Huh. Well, whatever, Callan’s going to say that’s Gerrel’s problem to work out, because right now he’s got his own problem. What the hell kind of present does someone with no hobbies want? Most of the time when it comes to presents, Callan would simply grab whatever silly novelty he could find in the clearance sections - A hat with a funny saying on it, some desktop USB gadget, all those stocking stuffer toys made specifically for office 12th Perigees party gifts, the impulse buy bottle openers and fidget spinners at the registers, - it didn’t matter what the gift was, if it was a gift from him then clearly it was the most important! But this time it’s different. It’s not just a gift for someone’s 10th wriggling day, but the wriggling day of someone who it wouldn’t be inaccurate to call Callan’s best friend (who would’ve thought? Of all people!). A real pro at gift-giving too, the photo book he gave last Quadrants’ Day had touched Callan’s heart far greater than any novelty chocolate or humorous greeting card ever could. So now he’s obligated to be thoughtful. Ugh, thinking.

He acknowledges that the logical gift would be something practical, Gerrel does seem to like things that are useful and would make him more productive. With how much he goes on about ‘healthy eating’ and ‘cooking your own meals’, he’d probably be over the moon if he unwrapped one of those air fryer things people keep talking about. But as Callan stared the boxes of kitchen appliances down, he couldn’t help but think one thing...

An air fryer is fucking boring.

Yes, sure, it’s the perfect gift for someone like him. He’d appreciate it! He’d appreciate it a lot more than the corner store chocolates he received from the greenblood for Quadrants’ Day, or the reindeer antler hat from 12th Perigees. He’d probably get a lot of use out of it too, if what the recipe books conveniently placed next to the display says is true. You can cook chicken, vegetables, brownies and muffins, fish and chips, mozzarella sticks… But, it may be a gift from Callan, but it’s not a gift from Callan. There’s no pizzaz, no style, nothing that screams “This is a gift from the one and only Callan Ranpoe, the best troll you’ve ever known! Accept no substitutes!''. It’s a gift someone would buy for a hivewarming party, or something his rich boss would slip in with the weekly wages just to remind everyone of how much money he has. Not a gift from someone known for their sense of humour and great taste in, well, everything.

Callan’s train of thought is interrupted by an employee asking if he needs a hand. Some tired-looking brownblood who knows that if they don’t ask every customer who has spent more than thirty seconds standing on one spot this question their boss will have them thrown out on the streets. He dismisses the employee with a wave of his hand, who only responds by parroting that the tea towels and oven mitts have a two-for-one deal tonight only.

Two-for-one… That’s it! Cheap and more fun than some boring appliance!

Not wanting to make it seem like he was inspired by the employee’s suggestion, Callan continues to mull about the appliances section pretending to be interested in the breadmakers and slow cookers before stealthily slipping over to the kitchen accessories section. Sure enough, the tea towels and oven mitts are already looking more to the greenblood’s liking. There’s the towels with funny cooking-related puns (Haha, “Let’s give them something to taco ‘bout”! It’s funny because it’s got tacos on it!), towels covered in cute animal prints (and a very un-cute one covered in horses. Sorry Gerrel, but you truly have the worst lusus), and towels covered in sayings one would find on a Facebook Minions group (which unfortunately, would probably appeal to the redblood’s sense of humour more than anything else…). There’s oven mitts shaped like crab claws and dinosaur heads, some pop culture-themed mitts with references that’d definitely fly over his head, and one that just says the word ‘butter’ repeated on every inch of the fabric. Callan starts picking a couple off the rack, already congratulating himself on his head about how genius this gift is.

But… As he stares down at the dinosaur oven mitt and the tea towels with food puns, the gift still didn’t feel right. There should probably be something… More? To this? If the last present idea was thoughtful but lacks ‘Callan vibes’, then this idea is more Him but less thoughtful or really, wanted. Who wants tea towels for their wriggling day? That’s like giving someone socks and underwear. Callan sighs, dumping the chosen items onto the shelf below instead of hanging them back onto the rack. Putting in the effort for a perfect gift sucks.

Why is this so important? Why does a gift need to be thoughtful, personal, and most importantly, something that would make him think of Callan every time? Maybe it’s to make every moment as memorable as possible to combat the reality that all of Callan’s relationships are fleeting at best. Gerrel seems to be able to recognise him through his psiionics, most likely because altering one’s voice, speech patterns, and quirks in their posture and body language are difficult without specific training that Callan doesn’t have. But a friendship cannot be perpetuated on vaguely familiar quirks alone. What if one night Callan decides he wants to cut his hair? Change the way he dresses- hell, just happens to wear a waistcoat with his symbol printed on the opposite side? Doesn’t tie the bow around his neck correctly? Gerrel would fail to recognise him, and they’d be back at square one. And that’s not to mention the major elephant in the room being Callan’s stints as the prolific Phantom Thief. That wouldn’t be something he could just shrug off and accept, especially when his boss has been one of the thief’s major targets. He doesn’t come across as someone who would be angry to find out about this secret, but… He’s very honest and loyal. It would make sense for him to dob Callan into his boss, someone who values working as much as he does would definitely put his own job over anything else.

But then again… He’s selfless, in that way that makes Callan almost feel bad at letting him take over all the chores in his hive when he probably could do them himself if he could be bothered. Almost. Thank god he doesn’t have to wash dishes any more, and the food Gerrel cooks is way better than anything he could ever make even if he put his mind to it. So maybe he wouldn’t do that. Of course he wouldn’t do that! Even if it doesn’t last, he’s Callan’s friend now. And maybe they might continue to be friends, and- If the greenblood’s ego allows it- Gerrel could learn the truth of his psiionics, and try to work with it. Just as he works with every other eccentricity that makes up Callan’s personality.

… Nothing in this long moment of introspection has given him any more ideas for the perfect 10th wriggling day gift. Goddammit. 

The brownblood continues floating around the aisles, keeping an eye on Callan in the way one would monitor a known shoplifter or rowdy group of teenagers. Now’s probably the best chance to get that advice they’re paid to give out.

“Hey,” Callan addresses the employee with a nod, “Got any ideas for a 10th wriggling day gift? I need one for a guy who’s into like, cooking and shit. Practical, but fun, y’know?”

The brownblood silently casts their eyes over to the appliances, and settles on the most expensive item they can spot.

“Air fryer.”

Of course.

Once again, we’re back to square one. This is going to take more than an hour’s worth of thinking, which is well more than Callan has ever done in his life. But, that’s fine. He’s got time, and it’s for someone worth spending time on. And there’s still the entirety of the department store to meander about like what everyone else does at this time of night. Maybe he could look into finding some outfits so Gerrel can be at least half as stylish as him, maybe some instructional books on building projects that would normally bore Callan to death because they lack funny pictures, maybe some crafts to make something (he can paint a mean self-portrait, so a portrait of someone else wouldn’t be that much more difficult)...

Now, if only Gerrel didn’t steal his other non-kitchen appliance idea of putting together a photo book already, that could’ve been perfect. Who wouldn’t want their own collection of Official Callan selfies?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took another couple hours and some trips to a few nearby shops, but finally the search for the perfect present was over. Callan stood at the kitchen table, putting together the finishing touches on the now-wrapped gift’s presentation. The homewares idea was thrown out the window in favour of something just as practical, but in a way that feels more personal. A blazer sits folded on the table (Callan made sure to not unfold it after the cashier slipped it into the shopping bag, there’s no way he’d ever be able to get it right), in a similar style to the one usually worn by Gerrel albeit with gold buttons and a green trim on the collar and cuffs. A voucher to get his symbol printed on the jacket has also been slipped into the breast pocket. It felt right to give something with his hue, it’s a common sign of friendship between a higherblood and a lowblood. He may not have a particularly intimidating shade of blue or purple, but it’s still an indication of protecting a friend. And, it’s something picked out by Callan himself so clearly it’s peak fashion.

There was an attempt at tying up the gift in a bow - one of the spare green neckties identical to the one he wore, to be precise - but there was certainly little effort into making it look perfect. The bow was uneven and sat nowhere close to the centre, and Callan couldn’t figure out how to do that fancy criss-cross tie most presents are wrapped in. Not that the presentation mattered to him, and he’s sure that’s the level of effort Gerrel would expect from him. He probably doesn’t expect much from the greenblood, honestly, so perhaps this modicum of effort will make this gift even more special. 

[mascaratearsnlipsticksmears]

1..Who was the last person you held hands with? Probably My son

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Shy until I’m

Comfortable

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My surgeon

4. Are you easy to get along with? I try to Be. Don’t give me a reason to not Like you 😉

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Never had someone take care of me from drinking .....I’m usually taking care of everyone else

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Loyal. Chill. Down to earth .

7. Are you married? No.

8. Do you want to get married? Eventually . I do , but I need it to be for the right reason.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Makes me feel Lonely lately believe it or not.... 😔

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Steve

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “Oh cool 😎”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

lil peep- star shopper

Brand new-Jesus Christ

Bebe rexha- I’m a mess

Anything Billie eillish

Doja cat -rules

Ashnikko-daisy

That’s more than 5, Idc

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Only certain people

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? I don’t know anymore

15. What good thing happened this summer? Got a tan and not covid 👌🏼👌🏼

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? My little guy? I will kiss him when ever I can cause one day he’s not gonna want me to and I’ll be sad

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Absolutely

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Yes

19. Do you like bubble baths? 110%

20. Do you like your neighbors? Yea

21. What are you bad habits? Overthinking, caring to much.

22. Where would you like to travel? Anywhere

23. Do you have trust issues? No, people that scumbag me Normally get cut off so I only keep ppl around I trust.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Coffee & a bowl

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? Uhhh everything from the chin down 😔

26. What do you do when you wake up? Set gage up for class in the living room

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?darker

28. Who are you most comfortable around? Lauren Rayza

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? They don’t get the chance, yes a few tried to contact me but my mentality is fuck them.... one even tried emailing my friends to reach me 🙄🙄🖕🏼

30. Do you ever want to get married? I do, one day. Didn’t I just answer this

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Yes

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Idk I’d have to think about it

33. Spell your name with your chin. The fuck?

34. Do you play sports? What sports? Bought a bike yesterday Lol. I used to be on the swim team and I played soccer~ also took dance for 7 years.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Depends on my mood

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Absolutely.

37. What do you say during awkward silences? Try to avoid them at all Costs

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? No.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Sephora Ulta Victoria secret

40. What do you want to do after high school? Lol I think that bridge has been crosses already

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Not everyone , no.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? Normally bad anxiety and hurting , or extremely chill

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Yea I do.... but now I forget I have a mask on and look like a retard

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Can I just going fishing ?

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? My son.

46. What are you paranoid about? Money

47. Have you ever been high? There’s a joint in my hand.

48. Have you ever been drunk? Who writes these things??

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? No.

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Navy

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Eh wish I was still me with more $$$

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? I don’t have to wish, I’m doing it.

53. Favourite makeup brand? Tarte, morphs, fenty

54. Favourite store? Didn’t I answer this?

55. Favourite blog? My own💚

56. Favourite colour? Black, Periwinkle , light lavender ,pink

57. Favourite food? Japanese

58. Last thing you ate? 8 hours slow cooked ribs

59. First thing you ate this morning? Coffee

60. Ever won a competition? For what? Probably & Idr

61. Been suspended/expelled? Started a food fight in the science lab and they suspended the wrong Angela ~Womp womp...I did get detention a lot cause my shirt was too low in the front tho.

62. Been arrested? No

63. Ever been in love? Yea I think so

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? No. ☺️

65. Are you hungry right now? I could eat.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? Meh

67. Facebook or Twitter? Fb

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?yes

70. Names of your bestfriends? Stephanie Lauren Rayza Kat Christina

71. Craving something? A simple hand hold...😔.... compliment here or there . To not have to do everything myself... I crave the help I constantly ask for and never get. I crave dick, I just don’t understand this shit anymore.... damnit tumblr u struck a nerve .

72. What colour are your towels? Mixed

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? 1

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?idk

75. Favourite animal? So many..... tigers maybe? & Lynx. Sharks.

76. What colour is your underwear? Not wearing any 😬

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Mint chocolate chip

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Olive green

80. What colour pants? None on.

81. Favourite tv show? In the dark

82. Favourite movie? All 50 shades.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? First one

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? How do these compare

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? The Lebanese chick

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Turtles

87. First person you talked to today? Gage

88. Last person you talked to today? Myself

89. Name a person you hate? Hate is a strong word.

90. Name a person you love? Gage

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Lol Geoff

92. In a fight with someone? No

93. How many sweatpants do you have? No idea

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?Too many

95. Last movie you watched? “What if”

96. Favourite actress? Perry Mattfeld

97. Favourite actor? Hmmmm

98. Do you tan a lot?yassss

99. Have any pets? A zoo

100. How are you feeling? Confused, tired burning out ..

101. Do you type fast? I try

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Yes

103. Can you spell well? Eh

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yes

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yes

106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Yes

107. Have you ever been on a horse? Yes

108. What should you be doing? Listing stuff on Etsy

109. Is something irritating you right now? No

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Absolutely

111. Do you have trust issues? No, just don’t give me a reason too.

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Ohhhh I don’t cry in front of ppl,cause then there’s a witness... did cry today tho, but you couldn’t see me.

113. What was your childhood nickname? Angiefur

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yes

115. Do you play the Wii?not really

116. Are you listening to music right now? No

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Yes

118. Do you like Chinese food? Yes

119. Favourite book? Crank

120. Are you afraid of the dark?some times

121. Are you mean? Don’t cross me 😘

122. Do you believe in “the one that got away”? Yes.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? I try

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? Idk

125. Do you believe in true love? Yes

126. Are you currently bored? Yes

127. What makes you happy? Attention lol romance? I think romance is dead tho...

128. Would you change your name? My last name? If I were getting married, yes

129. What your zodiac sign? Leo

130. Do you like subway? Food yes, smelly train no....

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? All my besties have vaginas, nothing to worry about.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? Steve

133. Favourite lyrics right now? Brand new : Jesus Christ

134. Can you count to one million? Yea but why

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I don’t lie so I don’t have that problem

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed Cause only 1 Of my 4 asshole cats I allowed in my room

137. How tall are you? Oh how short am I? 5’1

138. Curly or Straight hair? Straight

139. Brunette or Blonde? Right now black

140. Summer or Winter?summer

141. Night or Day? Summer nights

142. Favourite month? August

143. Are you a vegetarian? Keto

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Dark

145. Tea or Coffee? Coffee

146. Was today a good day? I think so

147. Mars or Snickers? Dark chocolate Milky Way

148. What’s your favourite quote? I’d have to think about it

149. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“His thumb brushes my lower lip, and his breath hitches. He’s staring into my eyes, and I hold his anxious, burning gaze for a moment, or maybe it’s forever…but eventually, my attention is drawn to his beautiful mouth. And for the first time in twenty-one years, I want to be kissed.”

Excerpt From

Fifty Shades Trilogy Bundle: Fifty Shades of Grey; Fifty Shades Darker; Fifty Shades Freed

E L James

This material may be protected by copyright.

[ff-imagines]

General headcanons: salty tofu

I saw a man so beautiful I started crying?

• baby boy.... baby boy....

• salty having a crush on you is... gonna make things difficult for both of you

• he’d rather walk a mile barefoot over legos that are actively on fire than admit he has feelings for anyone

• so as a result he’s... very defensive and quick to end your conversations

• he’s essentially the third grader who’s mean to you cause they have a crush on you lol

• honestly it doesn’t take much to break down that wall though

• even the most basic kindness has him looking at you differently

• but he’s still gonna be high and mighty about it lol

• “don’t you have other duties? Or is this you submitting to being my toy?”

• “I don’t need your attention. Go find someone else to dote on.”

• proceeds to get sad cause you’re not paying attention to him

• you’re gonna have to make the first move, baby boy is a lil bit oblivious when it comes to romance

• and general social interaction

• the second you do, his walls come completely down and he’s a big ol’ cuddly softie

• he also drops the whole toy thing pretty quickly when he sees you’re not happy with it

• “Oh? Do you want to be my toy forever? ... Eh? Why is your expression so unsightly? ... Darn it, okay I was wrong, I won't call you a toy again... So... smile.”

• gets frustrated super easily over small stuff

• most of the time it has to do with people making him feel uncomfortable, or hurt

• he likes to pretend words don’t hurt him, but they really do.

• sometimes if he’s hurt enough, he’ll tear up

• he’s got a sorta hiccup-y cry, his throat locks up making it hard to talk, and he hugs himself tightly. Sometimes he’ll wipe at his face to get rid of the tears.

• if you tease him or poke fun at him for crying he’ll loose his shit

• he can dish out teasing, but he cant really take it in return, especially when he’s vulnerable like that

• but he’d also never tease you for crying either, he mostly just starts feeling angry at whatever made you cry

• “salty you can’t fight a tv screen” “W A T C H M E“

• the best way to cheer him up when’s he’s sad/grumpy?

• be needy

• he likes that you rely on him, even for small things like a hug

• another quick way to get him in a good mood?

• spa day!

• face masks, bath bombs, cucumbers on your eyes, diy manicures, he loves it all!

• his favorite bath bomb is black with just enough glitter that it’s not excessive, and it smells like apricots

• he can’t really relax unless he has some kind of white noise, so you both take turns picking a music playlist

• on days where you just can’t come to an agreement on what to play or who’s turn it is, you both just settle on the 24 hour lo-fi stream.

• likes the water skin boilingly hot, so good luck lmao

• sometimes sits across from you in the tub and just chills, but mostly prefers to have you back against him as to two lean back and enjoy the smells and feeling of the water.

• likes manicures, but can’t paint his nails well himself without making a mess on his fingers

• his hands are just a little shaky as a default, so hes gonna appreciate any help he can get

• won’t admit it tho so you’ve gotta being it up

• “hey maybe we should do each other’s nails!” And run before he does yours

• he also loves getting his hair played with

• there have been times where he’s actually fallen alseep while you messed with his hair because of how relaxed it made him

• he doesn’t like messing with makeup as much

• don’t get me wrong, on himself he wings eyeliner so sharp it can stab someone

• but on someone else? His hands are twitchy as ever and he’s too worried about stabbing you in the eye

• he just sticks to styling your hair

• he’s not absolutely phenomenal with hair, but it doesn’t look bad either, and he tries his best.

• as time goes on he’ll get better with it, and his styles will slowly get more and more impressive.

• chews on his tongue piercing somtimes when idleing

• also he talks a lot, that causes the metal to knock against his teeth somtimes

• because of that his teeth are a little sensitive, so he doesn’t like ice cream or any cold food that much cause like.... ouch

• prefers marzipan and punishingly dark chocolate

• plays his guitar often, would love if you did too!

• if you don’t know how to play very well, for your sake and his, don’t ask for lessons from him.

• he won’t be mean to you, just light teasing

• but his patience level is -18393024 so uhm

• he’s not a very good teacher :(

• he’ll try!

• he can help you with a few chords, but frankly?

• he’s not only been doing this for a long ass time, he’s also just naturally gifted when it comes to music and pitch recognition

• so if you take a while to get it he’s just gonna be “????? Why confusion this easy ?????”

• he tries his best but eventually just sighs and pulls out his phone to play a YouTube tutorial lol

• if you’ve not already got piercings, he’d love to see you with some!

• if you asked about getting them he’d at first tease a little about you wanting to be like him

• then he’d tell you basic care etc cause he’s not a healer, he can’t really help you if you get infected

• he gets really upset to see you in pain so he kinda dotes on you a lot, getting a piercing does nothing but encourage him to make sure you’re doing ok.

• honestly he’s cool with whatever you wanna do, don’t want piercings? “That’s fine, now listen to three days grace with me I’m bored”

• honestly is very laid back when it comes to hanging out with you alone.

• he trusts you with everything he has, why have worries when you’re right here?

• he likes to talk, but he enjoys just sitting in comfortable silence with some kinda white noise just as much.

• literally anything you want to do, he’ll go with you

• not without complaints, but he’ll go

• you don’t even really have to warn him either

• “ I wanna go hiking up an active volcano” “aight lemme grab some snacks and some bug spray”

• normally doesn’t really have a ‘schedule’, just kinda goes wherever. He lives day by day, making time for his basic needs.

• on rare days he’ll drag you around town looking for something to do

• but for the most part he looks to you for plans and schedules because he legit can’t be assed what you two do as long as he’s doing it with you.

• he kinda has this weird thing with math

• that being that he’s freakishly good at it

• it’s just another thing that he just gets

• he also knows that he’s good at it and he’s pretty proud of that

• will be beaming if you ask for help with any kind of math

• will also be proud if you ask him for help with really anything

• gives the classic “ what, can’t handle it yourself?” line and then immediately gets whatever you need done

• very much likes to hug you

• very very much likes to hug you

• his fav is wrapping his arms around you from behind, and if you’re short enough, placing his head on the top of yours. If you’re a bit on the taller side, he settles for your shoulder.

• but there is one thing he likes more than hugs

• cuddling!!!!

• “tonight, I want to hold you as you fall asleep~”

• and he definitely means that.

• he sleeps on his side, only on his back if he’s tired enough to pass out immediately, never on his stomach as it makes him feel weirdly queasy.

• he loves when you’re on your side facing him, and he’s got you in an arm prison.

• tuck your head under his chin and he’ll actually melt into a puddle

• he’s always very warm but he has this weird tick where no matter how hot a room is, he thinks it’s cold

• “cold...” “salty it’s 94 degrees” “c o l d . . . ”

• cuddling with him is pretty pleasant as long as you don’t get hot to easy, cause he piles on the blankets and curls into you like you’re a fire on a -27 degree night.

• honestly when it comes to you, sweet tofu is obsession, salty tofu is possession.

• don’t get me wrong, he’s not keeping you on lockdown

• but he gets jealous very easy lol

• of course more reasonably, he’s not gonna be crying while holding up your phone going “WhO tHe FuCk iS mOm??”

• it’s more that if you’re in public and someone’s gaze lingers just a little to long

• he’s got an arm around you pulling you closer to his side and he’s glaring

• he might be your living teddy bear, but he knows how to make himself look very menacing

• he doesn’t like random strangers talking to you, mainly because he doesn’t know them and therefore does not trust that they don’t have bad intentions

• “He was asking for directions to the chip isle salty” “didn’t like the look in his eye” “he was 15” “and”

• he finds the stories you bring home of being hit on or asked out off putting, but he mostly laughs, saying “did they really think they had a chance with what’s mine?”

• he feels safer knowing that not only will you turn down others flirting, but you’ll openly laugh with him at that person for even trying.

• it’s an ego boost, but it also makes him proud of you for being able to stand your ground.

• but... if someone ever makes advancements toward you on front of him?

• oh no.

• The fool. The buffoon. They have no idea the absolute hell they’ve just unleashed upon themselves.

• he has no qualms defending you with actual violence

• if the time ever comes where he turns his back for a few minutes and comes back to see you looking uncomfortable while some person is trying a little too obviously to flirt with you?

• beat someone’s ass mode: engaged

• he’d come up beside the person and just grab onto their forearm with one hand, the other hand is at his side in such a firm fist that his palms are turning white

• he’s squeezing them punishingly tight as he leans close to their face and asks what the fuck they think they are doing

• safe to say the creep is no longer bothering you.

• poor baby kinda stands for a bit and just pulls you tight into his side, shaking his head and muttering about how shameless some people are

• call him your knight while he’s muttering, it’ll catch him off guard and you’ll get a rare blush from him

• just take him home and cuddle the teddy bear. His poor heart can’t take the thought of some gross stranger taking you away from him.

• the only reason for his jealously is because of his insecurities.

• “what if one day I’m not enough?”

• those thoughts happen less and less as he spends more and more time with you.

• you’ve only proven that you’ll stick with him till the bitter end.

• with your love, and his rock playlist at full blast, can’t really ask for anything else.

[mcwriting]

before, during, after (tyrus)

Everything that happened before, during, and after (as the title implies) the Tyrus confession, even tho I’m a little late to the party :)

I’m afraid Josh is gonna read this so I hope you like it if you do haha

Fandom: Andi Mack (my first time writing this fandom!)

Ship: TJ x Cyrus aka Tyrus

Setting: Shadyside at Cece’s house. Takes place at Andi’s party in the finale

Word Count: 2802 (wowwww this was long winded whoops)

Warnings: sexual tension (p sure that’s obvious tho...), a couple of “bad” words but they’re mild

Rating: eh maybe like K? There’s not a lot that’s worth worrying about lol

Background: well I was a bit disappointed in how the tyrus scene kinda just... ended? and then wasn’t brought up again after the party ended and just the ghc and andi’s fam were outside?? So I thought I would put my take on it out there for y’all. The part immediately after the canon confession is what I initially imagined happening and what I wrote this fic for lolol.

%%%%

Cyrus was tired of worrying so much about TJ and Kira.

And he was tried of dancing. 

His time singing on stage had been fun, but his friends had somehow scattered in the time it took him to go to the bathroom and back.

Buffy had disappeared out the front door, though Cyrus noticed Marty not far behind. Meanwhile Andi was also nowhere to be seen, and suspiciously Jonah couldn’t be found either. 

Cyrus didn’t feel like searching around for Amber, and instead went to grab a little snack and maybe sit down. Then he turned his head to the back yard, where TJ was leaned against a bench talking to a couple of his old friends.

There’s no better time then the present, I guess he thought, finishing the pizza rolls he had grabbed and heading towards the door.

%%%%

TJ was tired of Kira’s tricks.

She had spent way too long manipulating and hitting on him, and he wondered why he’d let it go on for so long. 

I never would’ve let someone walk all over me before, but that Underdog makes me do some stupid things for him.

After sending Kira away (hopefully once and for all), he stormed away to grab a cup of punch to cool off, wishing someone had been brave enough to spike it so he could loosen up.

It wasn’t too long ago that he would have been the one to do it, or at least been with the people that would bring the booze.

Of course Cyrus changed that for him too, but it was definitely for the better.

After a while, he had been roped into showing off his piano playing skills, something no person at the party but his sister would have known about if it weren’t for the strong urge to show off for Cyrus.

Born this way hadn’t been his initial choice, but Amber told everyone that he knew how to play it from memory and so they begged him to do it.

Sure it was a good time, but after Cyrus ran off saying he’d be right back, TJ panicked and went to talk to a couple of people he knew that were getting ready to head out. 

They went into the back yard to get away from the loud music and after a nice conversation, his friends decided to leave.

With that, TJ was alone again, so he thought the bench he’d been sitting on the arm of would provide him a place to catch his breath. 

And then Cyrus showed up as soon as his butt hit the wooden planks and his heart rate spiked the way it always did when his crush walked up.

Cyrus was also freaking out a little too, but if someone was comparing the pair, it was nothing like TJ. Cyrus was more or less just mildly nervous, knowing anything said tonight could change everything.

So he started with something easy:

“Can I sit?”

They both looked at the empty spot, then at each other.

“Sure,” TJ gestured loosely with his hand as he tried to distract from his heart pounding so hard it almost matched the bass line of the music inside. 

With no hesitation, Cyrus slid into the spot, then asked a question he didn’t expect to fly out of his mouth so candidly.

“What happened to Kira?”

“I poured water on her and she melted,” he quipped back, cracking his “sarcasm smile” before looking away. Cyrus found it endearing and played along.

“I actually buy that,” he nodded. 

A lot of people liked to call her the worse version of witch, but really Cyrus saw her as both and wouldn’t be too surprised if she ended up putting a curse on him one day. 

TJ was still anxious but glad Cyrus was asking about the bitchy manipulator so he could set the record straight. 

He had even made sure to watch his language just for Cyrus, but if someone had asked Cy, he would’ve said he found it cute when TJ swore.

“She isn’t a nice person,” TJ shook his head, looking back at Cyrus once again.

Cyrus furrowed his brows before responding.

“You know people used to say that about you?” 

He grinned sincerely at TJ, who seemed to be in serous thought.

“Well, sometimes there’s a nice person on the inside trying to get out,” he confessed. 

TJ’s heart was still racing but he was never afraid to be real with Cy, except for the one thing he still feared confessing.

“I know that now,” they locked eyes and smiled, “but there’s still a lot of things I don’t know.”

Cyrus was really getting risky now, and he could feel it in how his pulse picked up.

“Like what?” TJ asked as he turned his shoulders to Cyrus, sliding his right leg a bit closer to Cyrus. He was hyper aware that their hands rested only inches apart on the seat.

“Like that you play piano.”

“My mom’s a piano teacher,” TJ mentioned slyly, like it was nothing, breath caught up in his throat a little.

“Didn’t know that either.” 

TJ decided to get bold too.

“I’m not mysterious, ask me anything,” he said, breathing out a light laugh.

“Okay!” Cyrus said, features brightening up as he angled more to TJ. “What does TJ stand for?”

Oh God, oh no, TJ thought, He did not just ask that. Now I’m gonna have to answer because it’s my muffin that’s asking.

“Except that!”

“You won’t tell me your name?” Cyrus grinned, truly wondering what the problem was ad TJ rolled his eyes. “And you think that’s not mysterious?”

“Okay there’s like... five people in the world who know it, and they’re all named Kippen.”

It’s a good thing Amber wasn’t there to hear their conversation. TJ knew he could trust her, but he also knew his sister well enough to know that she would’ve dropped hints left and right until Cy figured it out or TJ just said it.

“You should know that if you don’t tell me,” Cyrus started seriously, making TJ extra nervous again, “I will be the first person to ever literally die of curiosity!”

TJ held back a snort and instead let out a sigh.

“I don’t know, I... alright,” he turned even more towards Cyrus, his body almost facing the Jewish boy completely now, “if I tell you, you can never use it.”

“I won’t.”

“Or tell anyone else-”

“I promise!”

“Like, Cyrus, you gotta swear-”

“I do! I do! I swear!” Cyrus paused before lowering his voice slightly, “I swear.”

TJ studied Cyrus’s face for a moment before rolling his eyes again and continuing. 

“Alright. My parents are way into music, and they named me for their favorite artists,”

“That’s not so strange,” Cyrus added, unsure of why he was so worried about a measly name.

TJ hesitated again, heart pounding and stomach fluttering.

“TJ stands for...” 

There was a long pause this time.

“... Thelonious. Jagger.”

Cyrus furrowed his brows. He was shocked, blown away, and a little impressed that TJ actually told him. 

“Thelonious Jagger?!” he repeated, uncertain of how to react. “Are you kidding?!”

TJ was panicking inside. He shouldn’t have said anything. At this point he was ready to get up and leave when Cyrus kept talking. 

“That is a great name!” he exclaimed. “I love that name,” he finished sincerely, the widest smile on his face.

TJ was the one to be shocked now. He had never really heard “love” paired with his name, and never expected Cyrus to be the first to say it. He lightly snorted.

“You do?” he asked incredulously, mimicking his crush’s grin. 

“Yes!”

“Well my grandparents didn’t, they were like ‘that’s a ridiculous name, we’re calling him TJ!’“ he joked in a raspy voice, chuckled, then continued as normal. “So I’ve been TJ since I was three days old.”

There was another moment of silence, and suddenly both boys took on serious demeanors again. 

“Is there anything else you wanna know?” TJ questioned. His hand started to slide off his knee and towards Cyrus’s.

This is it, teej. It’s now or never.

Cyrus couldn’t help but look down and saw his crush’s hand had moved closer.

Omg. Stay calm Cyrus, this is it. It’s happening.

He looked back into TJ’s eyes, his butterflies erupted into his stomach.

“Is there anything else you wanna tell me?” he countered with a grin. 

TJ knew could feel his palms sweating, even though it was probably about 45 degrees outside and he could see his own breath in the night air. He answered truthfully, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah,” his fingers slid closer again, the tips now lightly brushing the back of Cyrus’s hand and knuckles, “Is there anything you wanna tell me?”

“Yes,” Cyrus whispered, not wanting anyone to hear but TJ.

A weight had been lifted off of their shoulders, and TJ felt more free than ever before. He decided to seal the deal.

He grabbed Cyrus’s hand, not just cupping it, but fully interlacing their fingers.

TJ let loose a sigh he had been holding in since the moment he realized that Cyrus was more than just chocolate chocolate chip muffin guy. Cy followed suit.

They beamed at each other, soaking in the fact that their hands fit perfectly together. 

Cyrus took the opportunity to get clarity, even though words obviously weren’t necessary.

“You wanna tell each other at the same time?” 

His voice was still quiet even though they were completely alone in the yard. 

All TJ could do was nod in response. 

“Okay,” Cyrus said, squeezing TJ’s hand, “One, two, three...”

“I like you,” the both confessed in sync, lighting up upon realizing they had both said the same thing. They couldn’t help but chuckle at their confessions.

Cyrus wanted to cry. This was the happiest day of his life. 

TJ didn’t necessarily feel like he would cry, but another weight had definitely been lifted off of him. 

Before tears could well up, Cyrus leaned forward, letting go of TJ’s hand to wrap it around his back in a hug, the blonde boy following suit. 

The embraced for a few seconds, each of their eyes closed in excitement as they buried their chins in each other’s shoulders. 

Upon pulling away, TJ decided to take their friendship a step further once and for all.

“Cyrus, would you maybe wanna go out with me?” 

“Are you kidding? Absolutely!”

They sat there for the next hour, planning an official date and talking about anything and everything.

%%%%

The party had died down quite a bit, and the newly minted couple had scooted closer over time, eventually Cyrus leaning into his boyfriend (man was that hard for him to believe) and TJ wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

They were content in their positions when something caused the bench to vibrate.

TJ rolled his eyes knowing it was his phone, thinking it must be Kira being annoying again. He was going to leave it until it buzzed a few more times.

Cyrus looked up at him and told him to just check, removing himself from TJ’s warm side so he could reach the device.

“Ugh, it’s Amber. I guess mom’s on her ass about us not being home yet.”

TJ slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry, Cy. I know you hate swearing,” he apologized.

“I was afraid to tell you before, but I actually think it’s kinda cute when you do it. Just maybe keep the language to a minimum when we’re around other people.”

They both had lovestruck looks at when they were interrupted by another buzz.

“Geez she’s persistent. She wants me to meet her out front.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Cyrus offered.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to.”

They stood up and TJ instinctively reached for Cyrus‘s hand. After months of resisting it, he was glad to finally be about to do even this small act without worrying what the other might think.

Cyrus’s heart was bursting at the seams, and his smile was unmatched. He looked up at the other boy with that lovey grin as they started walking inside.

In the living room, only a few people outside of their friend group were still there, most of them putting on coats or talking on the phone with parents. 

TJ’s heart suddenly began racing and cheeks heated up when a few people noticed the boys holding hands, even though most of them had knowing smiles. 

He wasn’t sure how ready he was to out himself to the rest of the world after playing straight man for so long.

He felt a reassuring squeeze from Cyrus and relaxed a bit.

It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks except for me and Cy. No one can come between us again.

TJ gave a a quick wave to Andi, Buffy, Jonah, and Marty, who were all gathered by the stairs talking. They all waved back and grinned, whispering to each other and pointing out the couple’s hands.

He thought back to a conversation they’d had earlier about when they’d be willing to tell more people. It was a given for them to share the news with what Cyrus dubbed the “good hair crew” and Amber, but everyone else was a mystery.

They’d have to talk about it later, because Amber was just in sight on the front lawn, texting. She looked flustered when she caught sight of the boys.

“There you are TJ! Finally! Mom wants us home asap,” she immediately began, not registering how close the boys were or that they were touching.

“Okay okay! Let me just say goodbye to Cyrus real quick.”

Amber perked up, then glanced at their hands. Realization hit her face and she opened her mouth to say something before closing it again, nodding, and turning to the sidewalk. 

The couple unlaced their fingers and turned to each other.

“So I’ll see you Sunday at the swings?” TJ asked, shifting weight between his feet.

“Of course. I’m sure everyone is gonna want to hang out at the spoon tomorrow too so I’ll let you know all the deets,” Cyrus replied with his usual chipper tone.

Both boys chuckled, and then TJ held his arms open awkwardly. Cyrus did the same and they embraced once again, squeezing each other firmly for much longer that normal.

After an acceptable amount of time, they separated.

“Well, goodnight,” TJ began.

“Goodnight.” Cyrus replied, wringing his fingers. TJ started heading to his impatient sister when confidence bubbled out of him.

“Wait!”

TJ stopped and Cyrus ran in front of him.

“You forgot something.”

“What are you talki-” 

TJ stopped abruptly when he felt Cyrus’s lips on his cheek, which suddenly heated up with the gesture.

“I know that was really cheesy but I thought it was a good idea,” Cyrus babbled after pulling away. He went to continue when TJ stopped him by pressing a kiss to the slightly shorter boy’s forehead.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” TJ breathed. 

“Only if you text me first,” Cyrus winked.

Finally, the two separated for good that night, waving to each other as the Kippen siblings began walking.

Once out of sight, Amber smirked and nudged at her younger brother, trying to pry the story about the night out of him the whole walk home.

Meanwhile, Cyrus made his way back inside to join the people left, promising to his friends that he’d spill the details eventually.

Eventually the partygoers had made their own ways home and the good hair crew was sat at the fire pit with Bex and Bowie, Cyrus finally got his text from TJ and grinned like mad.

Someone make a joking reference to who he might me texting and one joke led to another that ended with them all laughing.

Once they calmed down, Andi pulled out a childhood photo and things got serious again.

%%%%

“Great party.”

“Life-changing even.”

“I think I missed some stuff!?” 

Everyone had to laugh at Jonah’s oblivious nature as they all unwrapped themselves from the group hug. 

“Tomorrow? At the spoon?” Andi asked.

Everyone nodded and Cyrus stepped forward to say bye. 

“Later, tater.”

He went out the gate to the front yard, finally making his way home for the night. He shot TJ a quick text to let him know he was heading home and that they would be meeting at the spoon the next day. 

Upon finally arriving at this mom’s house, he flopped into bed, let TJ know he was safe, and fell asleep with a wide smile.

TJ instead was laying in his bed, replaying the night over and over. 

Sure he was losing sleep over that boy, but finally it was for good reason.

%%%%

A/N: Wow I can’t believe this was my first Tyrus story! I’ve loved them for a long time and am so happy for Luke and Josh for portraying these boys the way that they have. They are so sweet and I am sad that we had to see it end, but glad it ended with them together. 

I also have an idea for a series called “The space between” that touches on times between tyrus moments from the beginning leading up to this. Like non canon moments from when Buffy first met TJ until this fic. Idk lol.

Ps. Josh if you’re reading this say hi to Luke for me :) lol

[spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence]

I’m feline fine (Sanders sides)

Sanders sides spiderverse au fic based on @sugarglider9603’s au. Hope you enjoy!

Tw: kind of sensory overload, fear of a loved one getting hurt.

It’s a thing??? Not much plot just an idea that became a lead up to a fight.

____________________

"Alright. Last thing! Remember that grammatical mistakes do not make someone a villain and you cannot punch them for it." All eyes trail to Logan, "And! If a villain is already down and they make a grammatical mistake it is not okay to punch the correct usage out of them." All eyes stare at Logan, "And finally! For god sakes Logan. If someone insults Patton you cannot punch them! You have super strength. That hurts!" Thomas finishes off his speech, all eyes staring at Logan.

"It was one time!"

Swiftly ignoring Logan's outburst, Virgil raises his hand, "What if the bad guy insults Patton?"

"Then by all means. Punch them in the face. Now are you ready kids?" Thomas grins, "Aye aye captain!" Patton cheers, a bright smile taking over his face after spending quite some time frowning and concerned for his friends and their seemingly violent natures. "I can't hear yooou-"

"We're not doing this." Virgil hastily interrupted. "You're no fuuuuuuuuun!" Thomas groaned before finally pulling down his mask. "Aw Virgil! You ruined dad's fun!" Roman complained, poking his side. Virgil yelped and jumped back sticking to the wall not as gracefully as he would have hoped. Logan stifled a laugh at his best friends antics whilst Patton giggled softly. Thomas fondly rolled his eyes, an action hidden by his rainbow weaver mask before climbing out of his attics window and onto the roof, "Alright! Patrolling time."

Soon all the kids had popped up wearing their costumes, "Can you say that again but in your story time voice?" Roman pleaded and god- Thomas was so weak for these kids. They were like his family and he knew behind that mask Roman was doing his best attempt at puppy dog eyes. He always caved for his kiddos. "Alright buddy, Patro—"

"Patrolling time!" Roman exclaimed dramatically, his body posed as such to create a movie like effect. His hands on his hips and his anime-like scarf blowing gently in the autumn wind. "Ok, elasti-hurl. We get it. Now can we go?" Roman gasped in mock offence and turned a suit covered finger towards Virgil, "That's my thing! Tho- Rainbow Weaver! Tell him! That's my thing!" Roman stomped his foot down, Virgil was certain he would be pouting if that mask wasn't covering his annoyingly perfect face. "Ok. So I have a plan. We're going to split up to patrol different parts of the city. I would go alone. Roman would be with Virgil and Logan would be with Patton. Sound good?" Virgil scoffed, "Yeah like that's not how every horror movie starts." He continues in a mocking voice, "Let's split up to find the dangerous people!" He raised an eyebrow at Thomas, daring him to say Virgil was wrong. Logan snickered in the background, purely here for the show- plus working with Patton all evening sounded satisfactory. "What's the worst that could happen? ("Oh he's done it now.") I mean really. You're all trained. You'll be fine."

"That's awfully ominous of you. Really setting us up for some bad karma here Thomas." Virgil was not backing down apparently. Sure, this was technically their first ever patrol without Thomas by their sides but really, what could go wrong? Eventually after a little (a lot of) coaxing from Thomas, they all set off to patrol. All going different directions. Thomas loved the spider-kids, don't get him wrong, but sometimes it was nice to have a bit of peace and quiet. Readying up his web slinger he walked to the back of his roof before running across the tiles, feeling the air whipping against his face as he leapt off of the roof to go do what he loves. The web latched on to a tall building and his arm grabbed the strong matter. He swung with ease towards an unknown location. Just him and the city he loved. Each swing increased in momentum. Each leap, grab and roll left a searing pain in his muscles that was both burning and yet exhilarating. A feeling he had felt so much through the years and had grown to love. Screw working out when the entire work was your jungle gym. He perched atop stark tower with a massive grin, the view never got old. The experience never got old. It filled him with a thrill he never before knew he was craving. His line of work was dangerous but it was also an escape from reality. It was freedom and power. It was like flying, or walking on the clouds- the stuff of dreams. He gently pulled up his mask and let his senses flood him. His eyes slowly shut and by doing so his mind opened. He could hear every noise in the city. Children's laughter, the clinking of glasses, the beeping of cars, the whirring of expresso machines late into the evening rush. Soon his mind was absorbed with MJ. The beautiful ginger locks flowing gently across snowy white skin. The assortment of freckles dotted far and wide- showstopping sprinkles scattered on top of the perfect cupcake. Each unique and beautiful like snowflakes. Geez, Thomas was hopelessly gay for that man. His boyfriend. His boyfriend! He could here the coffee pouring, trickling like a river stream. A soothing melody that only Thomas could really hear. Flowing and flowing until it stopped. Abruptly.

And Thomas opened his eyes, only for a second but his black and white world was in technicolour now. Bright lights blaring and that one thought in his head screaming. Something is wrong. Something is very very wrong. Suddenly, the swings weren't as graceful, the city wasn't as beautiful and the world was too bright. Too loud. His aching muscles couldn't get him to MJ fast enough and he needed to check. He needed to see that his world was fine.

It wasn't long until he was swinging to a lamppost, perched on the top watching over the coffee shop with hawk like eyes. He scanned every inch of that shop for abnormalities. Watched each customer, each member of staff. Thomas locked eyes with MJ from across the street. An unreadable expression crossing his face. Thomas knows he hadn't revealed his identity to MJ so he just didn't understand the look at all. He'd never seen MJ with such an expression. Was it shock? Fear maybe? Thomas didn't know until the door to the shop opened. Thomas could hear the familiar chime. He could hear the sharp intake of breath from MJ and the realisation hit him like a flood. That look was a plea. 'Danger' it screamed. A word Thomas was all too acquainted with. MJ was in danger. That person entering the shop was dangerous.

Now of course there was no proof of this at all. This person seemed harmless. The hood covering their face was quite strange but it was raining outside so it made sense in a way. He had no proof. No proof but MJ's intuition. Thomas trusted MJ. He was incredibly smart and had a sort of sixth sense about these things. He also always managed to get himself into tricky situations. His bombshell barista. Thomas (Or Rainbow Weaver) hopped down from the lamppost and walked into the coffee shop as casually as he could in his costume. MJ was serving the hooded customer with his normal fiery eyes and bold smile but below the protective shell Thomas could see the shaking, he could hear the slightly higher frequency. This person was definitely the thing MJ feared. Thomas stood behind them in the queue and waited. Eventually, the person slowly turned. He had the face of a man Thomas was well acquainted with. A man Thomas greeted every day in the mirror. It was himself. Of course Thomas knew this was a fake but how did MJ know? Just from a glance how could MJ tell? He stepped toward the front and whispered, "Are you ok, sir?" to MJ.

"Easy tiger. I'm feline fine, thanks babe."

Did MJ flirt with everyone?

"I can see those cogs whirring behind the mask hun. That's not you over there. He's a fantastic copy- really must of studied your mannerisms from your videos.”

“H-How did you..?”

“Same height, same size, same smell.” MJ listed off with a grin, “Plus I’ve watched the interviews. You talk to me like no one else. You talk to me like Thomas does.” MJ gives a toothy grin and pops a chocolate chip in his mouth, “Now go get that imposter, tiger.”

Thomas grins, turning to go take down Thomas Slanders but first he takes a long look at MJ.

“I love you.” Thomas whispers, smiling warmly.

“I love you too.. Rainbow Weaver.”

[fantastique-bastard]

I’m so awful at writing but I had some ideas for Sheith/Allurance first Valentine’s Day

Allura had no idea there was a specific day for this on earth

Keith obviously did but he’s never been in a romantic relationship or cared enough to celebrate.

Lance and Shiro get very excited about it

Allura and Keith try to act normal but as the day approaches they start losing their cool because “what if something goes wrong? what if we get them the wrong gifts? what if we fight? what if we say something wrong? WHAT IF WE BREAK UP?”

Lance and Shiro realize their situation and they decide that they’re gonna take it easy. Maybe next year they’ll do something more special. Not now, tho. 

That year, instead, they stay in, eat chocolate chip pancakes (those are Allura’s favorite) and watch movies. They don’t need over the top stuff, just be with their loved ones. 

[likeabulletyoucanhurtme]

Do you put sugar on your Coco Krispies? No, but definitely on corn flakes, they're bland postkellogsgeneralmillsitsthecerealwar

If you had a pet anteater, what would you name it? Antubis, obviously

Do you prefer house phones or cell phones? I do not have a house phone. But tbh I hate talking on any phone and prefer using messenger

Don’t you just love it when guys sing to you? Only if they're on stage and holding a microphone and in a band

Are your nails long or short? Long enough to paint :)

Do you ever wear headbands? Nah.

Ever taken dance lessons? I don't dance, I headbang

What does your hair look like right now? increasingly greying

What is your favorite show to watch on Food Network? I don't watch anything on the food network

What type of mp3 player do you have? iTunes on my laptop but transportable music I've put on my phone

What is your favorite kind of cookie? Millies <3

What was the last compliment you received? Someone just messaged me saying "smile you are a very funny man" but its our first convo, I know they'll get bored of me eventually

What are your thoughts on destroying rainforests? It was the start of the end of our species and the only good thing is that when we are gone they will grow back :)

Are you a bookworm? Most definitley. If it wasn't for goodreads I'd forget everything

What did you have for dinner yesterday? mini sausage rolls and onion rings at dinner time, but then I also had salt and chili chickenballs at half 12

Who was the fifth person to call you today? No one has called me today. And I doubt five different people have ever tired to call me in the one day

Pick up a book. Open it to page 89. What does the first sentence say? "Always wanted one of those."

Can you play the saxophone? About as well as Homer Simpson can sax-i-ma-phonesax-i-ma-phone

Have you ever heard the song Can’t Be Saved, by Senses Fail? I have not, no but I'll add it to my list. Love their cover of institutionalised tho :) theysaytheyregonnafixmybrainalleviatemysufferingandpainbutbythetimetheyfixmyheadmentallyillbedead

What colour carpet is in your living room? Some kinda weird browny grey bland thing idk it was here when we moved in andnothecarpetdoesntmatchthedrapes

Ever eaten an entire can of whipped cream in one sitting? No I have not, and now I am wondering why I have never tried this. I think I could.

Do you like sunglasses? Not particularly no

Have you ever been sung to on your birthday in a restaurant? No I have not. And my life has been immeasurably better as a result. I'd probably leave or go to the toilet and hide for ten minutes

Do you have any gray hairs? More and more each day

Do you like black olives? I don’t like any olives

Do you own a pair of toe socks? I think I did and they were rainbow patterened but I don't know where they are I've not worn them for a while :(

How about a designer purse? No. Or a man bag either

What kind of camera do you have? Haweewee cameraphone

Do you love pancakes? They’re okay, but tbh when I was in florida I had them everyday for breakfast.

What about chips and dip? Not a big fan of dips. Or sauce either. Salt and chili seasoning tho mmmh iknowthiswasreallyaskingaboutcrispsbutimnotamericanalsoidontlikecrispswithdipeither

Did I get you hungry? Nope

What time is it? 22.14

Have you ever lived with a friend? Nah. A fiance and a baby mama but not a friend

What are a few of your favorite TV shows? I watch too much to have a favourite. Like my TV Time app says I've watched over 11 months of tele so how can I have favourites

What kind of socks do you like to wear? Knee high stripey socks are always the favourite, right now I have Iron Man ones though

Ever wear lipstick? At Halloween yes but not normally.

Do you have your own house key, and how often do you actually use it? I do, but we never really lock the door cause someones normally in

How often do you eat chocolate? Not that often, but I don't eat chocolate because I don't buy chocolate. If I ever have any its gone in minutes galaxycaramelislife

Have you ever only liked someone because you found out they liked you? My type has always been people that are into me first. I did ask someone out in high school but they nicely rejected me and I've decided that obviously I can't read signs and so will wait for you to show your intrest

Ever baked a pie? Never

How often do you wash dishes at your house? Once a week maybe? We have a lot of dishes so we don't need to do them everyday

Does spell-check on Word or Mac computers ever annoy you when it underlines the word? I turn it off for this exact reason

Do you know what time you were born, and what day of the week it was? 1.11am and it was a Saturday

What colors of nail polish do you like best? Black, obvii. I do also have a metallic purple though madgoffff

Like to take pictures on the Photobooth program on Macs? I don't like macs. And I don't think thats a thing anymore

What is a recurring thought on your mind today? Ow my ear is so sore ffs of all the places to get a cut/scab/spot the inside of my ear has to be one of the worst

Have you had any confrontations with anyone lately? nope. Probably building up to one

What was the last charity you donated to? I did the ice bucket challenge 6 years ago and donated to that charity

Would you say you have an infectious laugh? Not at all no

Shouldn’t you be doing something else right now? I should be sleeping or doing something productive

Do you have anything planned for the summer? I have gigs that were rescheduled to summer but will probably fail due to the 'rona isweartogodgreendaythisisthethirdtime

Are there any mountains nearby where you live? Nope wayuptonthemountainiseedownbelowlifecanbesuchagreatshow

Did you like to collect frogspawn as a kid? No I did not. That's a very American, and also very weird thing to do

Do you walk fast or slow? Fast. Like 8.47minutes/km on average this month, which is basically 4.4mph

Do you keep birthday cards or throw them out? I throw them out tbh

Does sitting in waiting rooms drive you insane? Nope. Boredom is an old acquaintance of mine alsoyoucantdrivemeinsanewhenimalreadythere

Do you ever put sticky notes around the place to remind yourself of things? Nah I just keep it in my phone, and then forget to look there

Are you easy to talk to? I can be but I'm not very approachable in the first place so most don't bother to try

Can you juggle with more than two items? I can't even juggle with two items

At airports do you ever worry your luggage won’t arrive? I've not been in an airport in 20yrs so not really

Do your parents ever call you ‘pet’ or ‘sweetheart’ etc? No, that would be weird

Do you like jalapenos? Not really. I ate like 5 of them in pizza hut in 2005 before they were big and they made me throw up

What other windows have you currently got opened? Facebook

What woke you up this morning? I woke myself up

Would you ever consider visiting Ireland? Maybe. I'd visit someone but that's too much effort for what would end up being an awkward walk around town again

Would you like to visit Venice? I would. Idk what id do there but it might be nice. Probably go on a gondola like a right tourist and then sit in my room the rest of the time

What is the largest body of water near your hometown? They clyde, but not like a major part of it just a small bit

Do you have any flags in your house? Nope

Are there any ‘Keep Off the Grass’ signs where you live? No, thank god

[smuttyfairy]

Squares [2.]

if you've never been alone how you know yourself? If you ain't up on the water how you grow yourself? You should love you so much that you go Marylin Manson and blow yourself It's some things that you gotta learn that only you can show yourself - Mick Jenkins (feat. Noname & Xavier Omar) “Angles” [1.] Genre: Angst (Smut later) Summary: You’ve ran away and tried to start over, but the demons you run from keep you up at night. The only thing to comfort you is cancer sticks and mind tricks. But this guy isn’t a mind trick, he’s a wake up call. (Yoongi x Reader) [2: They say you should love yourself, but why should you? ] Warnings: Smoking, Trauma, Possible Triggers. Word Count: 2,576 Written by: Smutty Jaefairy A/N: Don’t smoke kids, third chapter sometime soon.

Disappointment, regret. They go hand in hand. You expect the most from people, that if you put in enough time that they will do the same. It's hard, because life is unfair. You have to do everything you can, but that doesn't mean that others will. You're expected to go to classes to help your emotions, therapy, a psychiatrist, a social worker, and keep you caseworker in the know. Oh, don't forget your job. Those 20 hours a week to satisfy people who don't care about your well being. They just want to buy their items and get out. You have to be on top of everything, even if everyone else isn't. You've done a great job, you keep on the ball with everything. Mostly. But something has to give sometimes.

Sometimes your therapist lies. She tells you she'll see you every two weeks, but it's always just once a month. So you use your coping skills. You distract yourself, you change your train of thought, you surround yourself around people who care. It's not as if she's doing it on purpose, you know this. It still hurts. Whenever someone changes an appointment, or something gets canceled, it hurts. Nodding and giving approval that it's okay is the only thing you can do. Why tell anyone why you feel the way you do?

Because it's irrational. People have lives and you can't expect everything from them. It's selfish. Just shut up and smile, don't fuck this up.

When your caseworker calls you friend, some days it makes you feel better, sometimes it feels like a stab in the chest. Why would anyone want to be your friend? Is she lying?

Everyone lies, because you know inside you're not good enough.

You're disappointed in yourself, you regret living.

But you keep on going, you have to.

Don't. fuck. this. up.

---

Jimin sat across from you in the small cafe shop down the street from where you were staying. He was sensitive to your situation, so he would always call it "The Program."

"How is the program going, Y/n? I haven't seen you in forever. You should let me take you to lunch sometimes." He sipped his iced americano, his dirty blonde hair sticking up in some places. This was always comforting. Jimin would come to see you some days as soon as he woke up. He never left the house unless he looked presentable, but for you he'd show his relaxed side. Grey sweatpants snugged to his waist, you both wearing generic black hoodies. He hadn't washed his face yet, little crusty eye sand sticking to the duct in his eye. He glanced out the window, watching the morning traffic as he sipped the coffee lazily.

"It's going okay, I'm doing well. " You said, sipping your iced chai tea. You both were quirky, opting for something cold in the mornings and something warm in the evenings. " I'm allowed to do overnight passes now."

Jimin looked at you, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he took the straw out of his mouth. "We should do something fun then. "

"No drugs, no drinking." You warned. He nodded, understanding you couldn't indulge in those types of things anymore. Not like you wanted to anyway. It was easy to slip into your dark place with the wrongs things in your system. It was also a reminder that you weren't likeable. When you were high and/or drunk, you were completely different. Y/n is so much fun when she's drunk.

Disappointing you couldn't be as much fun sober. Oh, well.

"Not even cigarettes and wine?" Jimin sipped again, raising an eyebrow. He knew you weaknesses too well.

"Well..just those two." Something has to give, once in a while could be alright.

"Hehe, okay." He broke his chocolate doughnut in two, giving you one half. The coffee shop was dim lit, rundown couches and love seats decorated the place. It was a little mellow, the place didn't take itself seriously. The barista was a chill dude with muscles and eyes that seemed to twinkle everytime he laughed. He was big on the gym and fitness, but never shoved it down anyone throat. This place was what you needed sometimes. To get away from the chaos of everything and to just breathe. As you bit into your half of the doughnut, you wiped your mouth, the taste of cinnamon and chocolate filling your mouth.

"Chim chim, when would you want to hang out?" You asked, swallowing the sugary pastry.

"Well, friday I'm hanging out with some college friends. Namjoon would be there, tho."

Oh, dear. Your kind of, sort of ex. Kim Namjoon. You both were very much alike. Intellectuals with a habit of breaking things on accident. When you both expressed mutual feelings you were on cloud nine. It was really nice. Really, really nice. But you both were busy, and after the first time having sex, the usual routine set in. Things got stale, you ended up making the move more than once. He was depressed, you were depressed. He said he wasn't ready for a relationship. The person you felt so comfortable with became a stranger. That was life, it was just another scar that needed to heal.

"That's fine, I'm not mad at him or anything like that. I can be civil. " You took another sip, pushing every feeling down. It would grow, but you'd worry about that later. You'd be fine for now. Your fingers fished your pockets, you felt your pack of cigarettes. It was light, meaning that you probably had three or four left.

"Well, alright. I think you two should clear up everything anyways. You guys were good friends." Jimin sucked on the remains of his coffee ice through his straw, the annoying sound distracting your thoughts.

"Jimin, walk with me to the gas station? I need some more cigarettes."  You asked, finishing your half. He nodded, pushing back his chair as he threw away his cup. You followed, waving bye to the barista. He gave you both a smile as you left, the warm city air hitting you slowly.

As the two of you strolled towards the gas station, you both chatted about nonsense. Jimin was telling you about his boyfriend and how he was really into painting right now.

"Man, it's such a pain to get the paint out of the carpet, but it makes him happy so I put up with it. " He gave a carefree giggle, sighing.

Absentmindedly, you lit a cigarette. Namjoon was still in the back of your mind, neighboring other unwanted thoughts. "You could always put a plastic tablecloth down or some newspaper. Save you both some time. "

"That's a good idea, Y/n! You're always giving good advice." He patted your back, a bright smile on his face. You felt your lips grow into a shy smile, nudging away from him.

"Shut up, Jimin. " You murmured, sucking into your cigarette.

"You really gotta give yourself more credit. Did you start the five good things about yourself every week thing?"

Oh yeah, your therapist wanted you to do that. Well, your first therapist. Then she quit for a better job. Ever since she left, you forget half of what she told you. What did it matter? You were meeting a new therapist next week anyways. You gave jimin a shrug, exhaling as you two crossed the road. He frowned, poking you in the head.

"It's not for her, Y/n. It's for you."

You looked at him, a serious look on his face.

"You keep thinking you're not good for anyone, but once you can get out of that you can see otherwise. No one can want it for you. You gotta want it yourself."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who wants it."

"Hm." That's all Jimin said, holding the door open for you.

As you picked up some random snacks, Jimin asked the cashier for some black and milds. Which meant Jimin started smoking weed again. You weren't against it, but you knew your best friend well. He only smoked when he was under alot of pressure. You never were one to prod, but so was he. You both had an unspoken rule; Let me come to you about my baggage when I'm ready. Just be ready to unpack it and help me put it back. You both were good at keeping it. So you observed, and kept to yourself. You bought some extra juices and chips. As you finished, Jimin noticed your bag was a little heavier than usual.

"Are you having a party?" He asked as you handed him some chips. Shaking your head, you handed him a pepsi.

"Nah, just stocking up." You bought it for Suga, but you hadn't mentioned him to Jimin yet.

You started seeing each other normally. Usually two or three times a week. It took a few weeks to warm up to him, but you both were somewhat friendly now. As friendly as two morbid and quiet people could be. Before you stepped out, you forgot the reason why you came.

"Fuck, gimme a second Jimin. I need to go back and get cigarettes." Handing him your bag, you walked back in. Behind the register, in an organized fashion, stood different colored boxes. Different brands and different types. Bold, Menthol, light. No matter the packaging, at the end of the day you were killing yourself. Whatever you got just fancied you. If you like a minty aftertaste with your suicide, get menthol. If you're watching your health, get light. You don't give a fuck? Get non-menthol. You're riding the one way train to hell with broken brakes? Get bold.

"Pack of Newport 100's. Red please."

As the Cashier handed you the pack and you handed him the money you glanced at them longingly. What fancied you about these, were these were the pack you first smoked. The first time you ever smoked, you were in his car. Half naked with the windows halfway down and his drunken eyes staring into yours. It was a reminder of what you were, It was a trigger. You knew you should have given them up, but it was the one thing you could control. It kept the dark place from growing, but it was also a catalyst.

It was a vicious cycle, just like he was.

You took your change and walked out the store, you eye catching the gaze Jimin gave you. He glanced at the pack, then at you. You knew in your heart that he knew, and that he was disappointed everytime you bought them.

Well, that just made two of you.

---

The smoke danced in the air, floating to the moon and fading into the darkness. Tonight the moon filled the sky on it's own, no stars. You smoked while Suga sat across from you. Next to him was his pack and the lukewarm Pepsi you brought him.

"You're really quiet tonight." His head was laying on the table, his arms folding into a cushion for his head. He already smoked his cigarette and was indulging in your secondhand smoke.

"Something my best friend said is on my mind." You let the filter hang from your lips, the ash falling onto your cupped hands.

"Is that why you couldn't sleep tonight?" Suga raised his head, resting his face in his hand. His eyes watched you inhaling and exhaling.

"Sort of."

"So what did they say?" He asked, his tongue prodding the side of his cheek. He did that a lot.

"He says that I need to see that I'm good enough for others. But they always disappoint me, I'm starting to think it's me."

"What if it isn't?" He took another cigarette out, lighting up and joining you.

"What if it is?"

"Do you love yourself, Y/n?"

You took out your cigarette and thought about the question. You couldn't remember the last time you could say you did. Man, If you had a chance to die right now, you probably would take it. He didn't need to know that.

"I don't know." You settled on that answer and stubbed out what was left of your cigarette.

"Why not? You should love yourself." You snorted at his comment, and he raised an eyebrow. "How do you expect anyone else to care if you don't?"

"I don't know." There were moments where you both would have these kind of conversations. Suga wasn't surprised at your answer, you loved to shut down when he gave advice. Maybe because you knew he was running from something also. You wished he was good at reading you, that he wouldn't try to prod. It made you uncomfortable, but you weren't anxious around him.

"You could try. It's a struggle, though." Tilting your head to his statement, he licked his lips and continued. "You could hate yourself, but then it just makes you hate everything. You suck, so life sucks. Get it?"

It made sense. Maybe if you felt a little better about yourself you wouldn't feel like your life was shit. There had to be a silver lining. Something had to give.

"Do you love yourself, Suga?" He laughed dryly, the last of his cigarette falling to the table, losing it's glow.

"I love parts of me. I hate parts of me. I'm working on it. Life is great sometimes, Life is shitty sometimes. " You smiled at him and nodded, you could feel that. Part of you felt somewhat at ease, reason taking over. There were people that cared, even if they were busy. You sat in silent, watching the moon's glow for a few moments. After a while you got up, dusting off your pants.

"I think I'm gonna go. I'll see you later, Suga."  As you walked off, your heard his shoes crunch on the ground.  

"Hey Y/n. If you want to see a change in your atmosphere, you should start with yourself." You looked back at him, open to anything he said at this moment. "We should start with ourselves."

"Ourselves?" It felt as if he was going to make you do some emotional exercise. You groaned and he scoffed, walking towards you.

"Yeah, start with this." He stepped closer. You noticed how thin his black hair was, also how you both could see each other eye to eye. His breath smelled like cinnamon candies and cigarettes. "Look at yourself in the mirror. Look at the way your eyes shine. The way your nose crinkles when you laugh. The way your teeth stick out a little, but not too much. They're cute. Look at yourself in the mirror and just have a conversation. See what you like. Talk to yourself. "

"You say it as if you've done it before."

"I do it everyday, I don't have anyone else to talk to." He stepped back and walked off, giving you a half wave. Suga disappeared into the night and left you feeling a weird pain in your chest.

That following morning you looked at yourself in the mirror. You gazed at the rings under your eyes, the way your hair looked when it was dry. You found yourself wanting to take care of the girl in the mirror, that she should look her best. Without thinking, words spilled from your lips.

"Man, you deserve better than this. Let's fix you up."

[lil-loucifer]

1-100 unusual asks ;)

Bruh how long ago did I reblog this?

1: Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? 

Spotify

2: is your room messy or clean?

Messy af

3: what color are your eyes?

Plain-ass brown

4: do you like your name? why?

I don’t not like it? I guess? I can’t really see myself as anything else, so yea

5: what is your relationship status?

Kinda single, kinda not

6: describe your personality in 3 words or less

Impassive as fuck

7: what color hair do you have?

Black, normally with a shock of blue at the top

8: what kind of car do you drive? color?

Hey guys guess who still doesn’t have his license yet

While I’m learning tho I drive my mom’s silver jeep, and when I get my license, I’m inherit my shitty cousin’s shittier old blue sedan

9: where do you shop?

Gamestop

10: how would you describe your style?

Dark as shit, in more ways than

11: favorite social media account

I only ever use tumblr, so...

12: what size bed do you have?

Twin size? I think?

13: any siblings?

One (1) sister

14: if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

The moon

Because fuck humanity

15: favorite snapchat filter?

I don’t... use snapchat??

16: favorite makeup brand(s)

I don’t really know makeup lmao

17: how many times a week do you shower?

Five, normally. For school days.

18: favorite tv show?

Uhhhhhh fuckin Young Justice I guess??

19: shoe size?

9 1/2 I think in mens, and whatever my mom’s size is in womens

20: how tall are you?

About 5′10

21: sandals or sneakers?

Sneakers 100%

22: do you go to the gym?

...no

23: describe your dream date

At home, under a blanket or some shit, netflix and cuddles?? I dunno man I don’t like going out

24: how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

About $15.

25: what color socks are you wearing?

Right now? Barefoot

26: how many pillows do you sleep with?

Two 

27: do you have a job? what do you do?

I am and will continue to be a useless member of society

28: how many friends do you have?

Like

Three

29: whats the worst thing you have ever done?

That’s personal

30: whats your favorite candle scent?

Candles have scents?

32: 3 favorite boy names

Honestly I don’t really have any

33: 3 favorite girl names

^^ Same

34: favorite actor?

^^ Ditto

35: favorite actress?

^^ Yup

36: who is your celebrity crush?

Uhhh I dunno I guess Sebastian Stan is hot??

37: favorite movie?

Probably Patch Adams

38: do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

I read a fuck ton of books and I don’t really have a favorite

39: money or brains?

I mean, if you have brains, you can probably make money...

40: do you have a nickname? what is it?

Lou is in itself a nickname, but I’ve got several others. Like Hayden, or you I guess, calls me Lulu sometimes (but he spells it as “loulou”) 

41: how many times have you been to the hospital?

Never been there for an injury to myself, but I’ve visited family members a ton of times

42: top 10 favorite songs

Bruhhhh don’t expect me to choose

43: do you take any medications daily?

No

44: what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

Dry af 

45: what is your biggest fear?

Being unwanted?? Like, if people don’t want me around anymore, I guess

Lmao I’ve got this irrational fear that a bunch of people just tolerate me and that every one of my friends from high school or some shit is glad I’m gone

Maybe I’m just bad at keeping in touch

46: how many kids do you want?

None honestly

47: whats your go to hair style?

Undercut, sometimes with a ponytail

48: what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

Average?

49: who is your role model?

I don’t really have any that I know of

50: what was the last compliment you received?

...I have recently realized that I can never remember compliments

51: what was the last text you sent?

“Thank”

(my sister offered me her chicken nuggets)

52: how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

I never really believed in Santa lmao

53: what is your dream car?

Functioning?? 

54: opinion on smoking?

Neutral

55: do you go to college?

Yep!

56: what is your dream job?

Pays me enough to live in relative comfort

57: would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

Suburbs, probably

58: do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

I haven’t been to a hotel in years 

59: do you have freckles?

Not to my knowledge

60: do you smile for pictures?

I prefer to make a silly face

61: how many pictures do you have on your phone?

A couple years’ worth

62: have you ever peed in the woods?

Nope

63: do you still watch cartoons?

Sometimes, yeah

64: do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

Wendy’s sells chicken nuggets?

65: Favorite dipping sauce?

Probably just ketchup lmao

God forbid I say szechuan sauce

66: what do you wear to bed?

S k i n

Sometimes underwear

67: have you ever won a spelling bee?

Never even been in one

68: what are your hobbies?

I come up with stories, but suck ass at writing them

Also I play video games a lot

69: can you draw?

Poorly, but yeah

70: do you play an instrument?

Nope lmao I suck

71: what was the last concert you saw?

My own middle school choir concert??

72: tea or coffee?

Covfefe

73: Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Starbucks

74: do you want to get married?

I dunno

75: what is your crush’s first and last initial?

H. E. 

76: are you going to change your last name when you get married?

It’s a possibility?

77: what color looks best on you?

Everything looks like shit on me

78: do you miss anyone right now?

You

79: do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Closed as fuck

80: do you believe in ghosts?

Kinda?? Like I’ve never seen one but like... Anything’s possible

81: what is your biggest pet peeve?

I dunno I’m a pretty tolerant guy

82: last person you called`

@slightlyunofficial just to chat

83: favorite ice cream flavor?

Either chocolate chip cookie dough or cookies & cream

84: regular oreos or golden oreos?

Regular

85: chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

Both?

86: what shirt are you wearing?

That dank-ass Punisher t-shirt that’s been through so much

87: what is your phone background?

A drawing of a cat that Cassandra Jean posted on her blog

The artist, not the actor

88: are you outgoing or shy?

Shy as fuuuuuuck

89: do you like it when people play with your hair?

Depends on who does it 

Like, an old lady who tries to reach for it while I’m not looking? Hell fucking no

A close friend or loved one (or just someone cute lmao)? Fuck yea

90: do you like your neighbors?

Y’know, all of eighteen years of life, and I’ve never really talked to them

91: do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

...no I’m a dirty boy

92: have you ever been high?

Lmao no

93: have you ever been drunk?

No

94: last thing you ate?

My sister’s chicken nuggets

95: favorite lyrics right now

“Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts,

It’s not easy facing up when your whole world is black”

96: summer or winter?

Winter!!

97: day or night?

Night

98: dark, milk, or white chocolate?

Milk chocolate ;u;

99: favorite month?

December?? I dunno, I just like how the word sounds lmao

100: what is your zodiac sign

Cancer

101: who was the last person you cried in front of?

Okay so I never cry in front of anyone because I hate showing emotion to people, it makes me feel super vulnerable and I hate it lmao

But once after watching the movie “Patch Adams” in class it gave off such a bittersweet ending feel to me that I actual shed one single tear

This girl happened to glance over and I’m like “I’m not crying you’re crying shut up” 

[songofsaraneth]

WHEPHEW what a busy weekend. journal-blogging it up bc it was a Good one and i wanna remember it

friday after work started with the birthday party for the town multicultural center!! one of my housemates plays in a marching/brass band and they performed at it, everyone drank free margaritas and had chips/salsa/cupcakes, and then we tried to play a pretty unsucessful game of 4-square with some children and made me realize what a difference height makes in that sport (we had to play in like, Ultra Squat position to be on the same level as the kids, so basically Leg Day).

friday night was ALSO the first Bike Party of the year, where everyone puts on costumes for that month’s theme (this one was “safari”), meet up behind the bike shop and the guy with the solar powered speakers on a bike trailer starts playing a bunch of music, and then we bike up and down main st and wave to the tourists and then have a roving dance party around town. usually in the culverts below the roads, under the highway bridge north of town, or along the bike path past the campgrounds (sometimes picking up extra people from the campsites who feel like partyin). generally you get to an area, dance for 30-45minutes, then bike to the next, dance more, etc. VERY EXERCISE I always forget how tiring it is ;_; but this is the last time it’ll be on a friday for a while cause Tourist Season, so it’s probably the last one me and all my housemates could get to together. we wore our matching zebra onesies (that we got for our blanket fort house party back in february) and there were two other zebras also in attendance. another friend dressed up as “the jungle” and i’m jealous I didn’t think of that first. it was VERY COLD THOUGH like FUCK it snowed for twenty whole minutes in the morning. luckily the onesie is  pretty warm. but we didn’t bike home till about midnight and i was So Sore the next day

saturday!! i was lazy and slept forever which was Excellent and then in the afternoon, met up with another mermaid visiting from Salt Lake with her family! i met up with her at her hotel and we swam in the pool for like 40 minutes before Noping out because it was cold and just sitting in the hot tub to chat instead lol. it was fun though! i’ve never met up with another mermaid for swimming before (the other time i tried we were rained out, but went to the aquarium instead, which was also super awesome) so that was neat! she had a Kariel sequin tail, which i’ve never seen up close before (40,000 sequins!!!!!), so that was cool. 

after that i went to a friends bday party! which started out totally normal (chatting, lots of food, his dad was in town so talked to him a bit), then did a pinata (did u know adults trying to smack a pinata is even more hilarious than than when children do it), then chatted a bit more and at like 10pm people started dancin. except three dudes were sort of alternating selecting songs were like, trying to make the styles as opposing as possible (hardcore rap followed by slow lyrical ballad followed by bouncy disney) and it became kind of a competition to... keep dancing anyway??? no matter how weird the songs got?? culminating in a swaying Hug Circle to My Heart Will Go On, squiggling amoeba-like through the living room and kitchen to envelop Music Selection Dude #2 Who Hated That Song but was standing by the computer and we were worried he was gonna change it, and then everyone just... slowly grabbed his body and held it horizontally, then lifted him into the air and slowly spun him in circles just below the ceiling before gently lowering him onto the floor (where he remained perfectly motionless) and doing synchronized hand waving over his body. IT GOT REALLY WEIRD. but no one questioned it everyone was perfectly silent or singing along to the lyrics until the song ended. what the fuck. i haven’t been part of something That bizarre since college (tho to be fair, there were a Lot of those moments in college). anyway party lasted until a bit after midnight.

TODAY SUNDAY!! at 9am met up with folks to go WHITE WATER RAFTING! it was the going away party for a friend, so we got a bunch of gear together/a pal’s free boat rental for working at a river company, and some personal boats, so 3 boats and about 12 people. second time ive been on the river this season, the first was february and Very cold/total splash guards against the water, but today was the first decent day this week! about 50-60F all day, though the water was a lot colder (although what the fuck is going ON this is the DESERT we should be like in the 70-80s range this time of year). everything went great at first, the rapids were easy, we rafted for a couple hours and then docked at a winery with a helpful pier, and jumped inside for buffet lunch and optional wine tasting. which like, WHAT an excellent concept, i hear they’re doing brunches soon, and whitewater rafting into/out of a fancy brunch seems IDEAL tbh.

...buuuuut we got to the first rapid after the winery/last rapid we were gonna hit of the day and just. totally flipped. we lost back left paddler (who took a drink of wine from his beer can like RIGHT as we went into the rapid smh) almost immediately, and i turned to see what happened to him (i was back right), and noticed that our captain/acting guide was just ALSO GONE??? I still don’t know HOW he fell out i guess he just catapulted on the first big wave... everyone (sans myself) was pretty drunk and at high water level (~15,000cfs) you can go straight through (or, RDTFM, aka “right down the fucking middle”, thats ur whitewater lingo for the day), but it was only at like ~8000cfs today so instead there was just... a rock. so chuck (acting captain) pops up a second later and manages to grab the boat, i haul him in, turn around to see charlie (back left paddle) somehow on the other side of our raft now floating the rapid, and two of the front paddlers trying unsuccessfully to reach him.

 then i look forward and OH GOD there is ANOTHER huge dip in front of us leading to aforementioned rock, and I sort of leapt to the left side/charlie’s spot to try to paddle off it, but no one was paying enough attention to coordinate and so we slammed it and the boat went riiiiiiight over. like, the most dramatic long-ways flip i’ve ever seen, threw/shoved us all down into the water. mostly i was thinking “OH FUCK” but also “SHOULDN’T HAVE BOTHERED PULL CHUCK BACK IN”, was under for maybe 5 seconds total, then popped up right behind the raft. pretty much everyone managed to hold onto the tie line and somehow i guess we also landed on charlie again so he had a hold as well. until we hit the next rock anyway, which popped the boat up for a second/swept me underwater and under the boat, and i ended up hand-over-handing it out onto the front side. which was easier for visibility/expectations but also i could see 10 feet in front of me that my backpack had come unsecured and was floating down the river without me, holding my phone (thankfully in a lifeproof/very waterproof case bc i’m not a Fool who takes electronics on rafting trips with no backup) and driver’s license and glasses hostage. and like 80% of me was ready to dive after it but while i’m an idiot i’m not That much of an idiot so i held onto the boat instead and watched it get farther and farther off. the first of our boats that went through (a  dinghy with two passengers) was waiting for us downstream and seemed like they were gonna get it, but then one of our people got swept way downstream so they were on mission Rescue Susan instead. but anyway after a very charged minute or so that felt more like ten, we managed to kick ourselves into an eddy and get over to the shore. 

at which point i became very confused bc our group now had 3 more people in it than were in our boat??? which is when i realized that our third boat, whcih had been behind us, had also capsized and dunked all passengers. but theirs was still trapped in the current (for like 5 whole minutes just bouncing on top of the first big rapid) so they all swam sans gear to where we ended up. anyway i sloshed to a nearby beach where some concerned rafters were watching (turned out to be our #3 boat guide’s coworkers, who’s company we were renting gear from, whoops), and over a ridge, and saw that boat #1 had sucessfully reclaimed susan, and a kind kayaker had saved both my backpack and one of our paddles. we dried off for a bit and checked everything over miraculously, the only casualties were some hats and sunglasses, one item per every person who flipped. the river gods were kind in their choice of sacrifices today. then we boated the last mile out and lay in the sand warming up until our car shuttle finished, and my friend who’s bday party i went to the night before & his gf & dad boated up RIGHT after us (they were also all at the multicultural center event friday) and laughed at us for having flipped. ah tiny desert towns. you see Everyone everywhere all the time. and i’ll see them again on wednesday for D&D so more mockery inbound.

anyway i got home and me n my roommate (also on the trip) took some VERY long/hot showers, drank some hot chocolate, and then watched cop drama tv shows in bed under the covers for 2 hours before ordering takeout soup and laying in bed some more. now i am laying in bed and about to go to sleep bc i’m exhausted but apparently still enough of an insomniac to never go to bed before midnight.

[adiseaselikeyouspreads]

They start meeting just about every day after school, at Regan’s house. The first few times, it’s a lot of demonstrations and a lot of Jason getting knocked on his back. He’s sorer than he’s been since he finished his physical education requirements.

It’s still worth it, though. Both for knowing he’ll have a better chance of defending himself, and for when he successfully gets out of Regan’s grip and feels a swell of pride, earns a big grin.

“You’re a quick learner,” Regan compliments, when Jason manages to successfully counter a grapple. Jason’s top is drenched with sweat and Regan barely looks tired, so that’s still a problem, but Jason can already feel himself getting stronger.

“Or you’re a good teacher,” Jason counters, using his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead.

“Let’s go with both, then we can both feel good.”

Jason laughs a little. Over the course of the last week, he’s gotten increasingly comfortable with Regan. It’d been awkward to be around him without his binder on at first, but Regan hadn’t even seemed to note it. And it’s easy to get comfortable with someone who unquestioningly backs off when you call uncle in a sparring match.

“How long did it take you to get good at this?” Jason asks, going to get a sip of water.

“Well, I’ve been in sports on and off since I was pretty young.”

“So I’m as good as you were when you were eight?” He guesses.

“Pff. More like eleven.”

“That’s sooo much better.”

“Hey, if you keep up the good work, you’ll close the gap eventually.”

“Eventually,” Jason sighs. “Guess we should get back to work, then.”

The next day, he feels a bit like his arms are about to fall off. Lugging his backpack around all day is hellish. At least it’s a satisfying sort of burn. The kind he knows means he worked hard.

Still, he can’t help but be relieved that there’s no film club today. He gets picked up and dropped off at home and gets to flop down on the couch and just breathe. It’s a recovery day, so he’s going to do approximately nothing but watch T.V. Maybe study a little, if the news doesn’t stop popping on talking about the Camera Killer’s most recent video.

At least, that’d been the plan. His dad starts to fumble around in the kitchen, walks into the living room, back into the kitchen, then back out, juggling a number of files, floorplans, a thermos, his wallet, and his cellphone.  

“You alright there?” Jason asks, watching his dad struggle to sort through a couple papers.

“Yeah, just-” He checks his phone, quickly, then pulls some money out of his wallet and holds it out to Jason. “Some problem came up at the house I’m working on and I need to go check it out. Ask my contractor how it is going to affect the budget. I didn’t get to go grocery shopping, so just run down to the 7/11 and grab something. I’ll bring you late dinner when I get this worked out.”

“I…” Jason stares at the money, then looks up at his dad nervously.

His dad is confused for a second, and then the gears start turning. “Hey,” he says, sympathetically, “it’s only a fifteen minute walk there and back. I’ve got my phone on me, you’ve been doing your self defense stuff. Just make sure to go while it’s still light out.”

“Right…” Even though he takes the money, he doesn’t look too pleased about it.

“I’ll probably be home around eight,” his dad informs him before rushing out.

Jason puts it off for as long as he can, before he actually has to start worrying about the sun going down. Before he steps out the door, he messages Regan.

Jason: walking down to 7/11. let’s hope I don’t have to use my new skillset. :^/

Regan: you got this jj

Jason smiles a little at the nickname, wondering if he could make an equivalent for Regan. R.A.? No. That’s what you call the dorm advisor in college.

Regan: remember if a big guy comes at you, use his weight against him

Jason: what do I do if a small guy comes at me?

Regan: tell him you know dmitri and he’ll have to stop. short guy code

Regan: fr tho momentum is ur friend

Regan: hmm. maybe i should draft dmitri for short guy sparring practice

Jason: I feel like he would bite me.

Regan: he would definitely bite you

Jason: how would I explain that to my parents?

Regan: tell them ur new gf is kinky

Jason: I’m pretty sure that’s how you get grounded.

Talking with him is making this walk a lot less nerve-wracking. Constant communication, focusing on anything but his paranoia.

Regan: wat are you buying?

Jason: chips, probably. or ice cream.

Regan: bro

Jason: what?

Regan: bro youre trashing ur body

Jason: omfg. what healthy thing could i buy from 7/11!!

Regan: multigrain bar or some nuts

Jason: what swamp did your tastebuds crawl out of?

Jason: creature from the black legume.

Regan: dont diss legumes dude

Jason: I’m buying a slushie out of spite.

He walks into the store, hearing the jingle of the bell overhead. He’s got just enough to buy himself a slushie, a bag of chips, and a candy bar.

Jason: mission success- bought junk food without dying.

Regan: 🎉

Jason: now for the encore.

Jason steps out of the 7/11 and starts the short journey home. Drinking from his slushie makes texting a little harder, but he’s so got this.

Jason: so what’re you up to?

Regan: just got home from riley’s

Regan: gonna make myself a salad like a responsible teen

Jason: meanwhile I’ve got chocolate.

Regan: i should make a chocolate vinaigrette

Jason: you cook?

Regan: hell yeah dude

Regan: i dont know how to make a chocolate vinaigrette tho

Regan: that was a joke  

Regan: i guess i could look it up

Regan: i make a mean half moon pie i should make some for you sometime

Jason: I don’t know what that is but it has pie in it so I’m in.

He takes another big slurp of his drink and grins around his straw when Regan starts to ramble about how to make this dessert.

Then something is wrapped around his throat. A presence suddenly behind him, a taut rope wrapped around his neck, strong arms pulling back. Everything falls out of his hands when he yelps in surprise.

He wasn’t paying attention.

His mind races. Choking. How to- he tries to tuck his chin, but the rope is under it, that doesn’t help, this isn’t a choke hold.

The rope is digging in and up, any time he tries to get solid footing, another yank almost makes his feet almost leave the ground. He flails, elbows, grabs at the unknown assailant’s face. The more effort he exerts, the more his lungs scream in protest.

Unfortunately, he can’t do the same; his voice coming out rasped and restricted.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. None of Regan’s lessons prepared him for this.

He tries to dig his fingers under the rope, shift his weight to ease the pressure, throw off the attacker’s center of balance, but none of it works. His vision slowly gets dark around the edges. His brain is still on full panic, heart hammering rapidly. But his consciousness goes soft and for the second time in very few days, he blacks out.

Waking up this time isn’t like last time. It isn’t a slow climb out of a muddled state. It’s sharp, disorienting; he was in one place but now he’s in another.

And this place is very dark and this time there’s no Sidney kicking walls or silly harmless clocks.

There’s just frigid cold. Pale light coming in through high windows, casting long shadows. He can barely look around. He’s strapped to a chair. With mild horror, he realises it’s a dentist’s chair. Modified, his legs and arms bound. The bindings are tight. No silly amatuer stuff, no pulling at the right angle to get out. Fear seizes him. His stomach is doing flips.

He’s alone, for quite some time. He doesn’t know how long. The light outside is fading fast. He dropped his cellphone. What if the killer has it? What if he texts his friends, parents? No one will even know he’s missing. Not until tomorrow.

A door creaks from somewhere and he tries to twist and look, but his mobility is a little limited right now. There’s a sound of rolling wheels, along with heavy, booted footsteps.

“Hey,” Jason croaks, before he can even consider if it’s a good idea to speak.

“Mr. Joon-ho, you’re awake,” comes a low southern drawl from somewhere behind him. “I hope you had a nice nap, because we are going to be very busy.” The voice slowly rounds round until Jason can see its owner. It’s deep and rich, the kind of voice that would be soothing, if not for the fact that it is coming from behind what is clearly a mask of cured human skin.

The rest of his clothes look too normal. Jean jacket, plaid shirt...hunting gloves. He’s pushing a cart with what can only be described as an array of sharp tools on it.

That comes to a stop a good five feet away, but the man paces closer.

Jason can see his chapped lips and dark eyes through the rough cuts in the mask, hear his heavy, unfiltered breathing, imagining the humidity inside the mask; he feels nauseous, wants to cry.

“Let me out of here,” he demands, tries to sound insistent, but he knows how scared he sounds. He gets a laugh in return. A short one, a facsimile of politeness, like he’s chuckling at a dear friend’s witty joke.

“Bless your heart,” the killer says, and Jason’s skin itches. “Can’t do that, little buddy. You see, you’re a delicacy.” He plants a hand on Jason’s arm. “Surviving five murder attempts? That’s some kinda record. I’d love to let you marinate for a bit longer. Seen how you’ve been strengthening up. Would taste a lot better with some meat on you.”

His other gloved hand pats Jason’s face and Jason’s brain goes haywire as he realizes who this is. He jerks and tries to curl in on himself, but he can’t. He can’t protect his squishy middle bits from what this fucker is no doubt about to do to them.

“But let’s face it. You’re just a pit stop on my cross country tour. Can’t wait around any longer.” The Cannibal withdraws both his hands and taps his chin. “In fact-” And he’s moving back to that cart.

“Help!” Jason shouts, as loud as he can, jerking against his restraints. The sounds bounce uselessly off the walls.  

“Hey now,” the Cannibal says, turning around, walking back towards him with some nondescript item in his hand. Jason can only see the handle. “None of that. There’s no one out here, anyways. And you should save your voice. There will be plenty of time for screaming later.”

“Fuck you,” Jason says, throat tight. Before he knows what happens, he feels a burst of pain. The Cannibal just punched him in the face with a meaty fist. His head is spinning.

“Watch your language,” the Cannibal comments, even voice turning acidic for just a second. Jason laughs as he feels the blood flow from his nose, tastes it on his lips. This guy’s about to carve him up like a Christmas ham and he doesn’t want to hear him swear. Incredible.

The object shifts from one of the Cannibal’s hands to the other and Jason can see, now, through skewed glasses, that it’s a potato peeler. Just a run of the mill potato peeler. His stomach sinks.

“Any gourmet worth his salt is always going to sample his ingredients,” the Cannibal jokes as he seems to test the sturdiness of the peeler against his glove.

“Why do you do this?” Jason asks.

The peeler halts. “I already told you you’re a delicacy. A rare treat.”

“No, why do you do this?! This sh- stuff, why do you-”

“Well aren’t you precious?” The Cannibal asks. “You still believe in motives.” He presses the peeler to the side of Jason’s face. When Jason tries to turn his head, the other hand comes to hold him still. “I do it because I want to, and because no one can stop me.”

The peeler doesn’t rake down fast. It digs in, and carves, slicing off a strip on his right cheek in a slow, agonizing pull. It hurts, sears, like the world’s worst rugburn.

He can’t help that it pulls chokes and sobs from him even when he grits his teeth.

The Cannibal releases his face and takes the strip of skin between two fingers. Jason can feel his pulse pounding in his cheek, can feel the fresh blood.

Without preamble, the Cannibal lifts the sliver to the hole in his mask and pops it in his mouth, like it’s nothing, like he didn’t just tear it off of someone. Jason gags.

“Sorry to say, squirt, but I’ve had better,” he jokes, wiping the peeler off on a handkerchief he draws out of his pocket. “I can work with you, though.”

The Cannibal returns to his cart.

“Please don’t do this,” Jason begs.

“I worked up quite an appetite bringing you all the way here,” he answers nonchalantly, while examining knives, like he’s trying to decide which one will do the best job.

There’s a very loud sound from outside the room.

Like the sound of a door being kicked in.

The Cannibal tilts his head, like one would when confused. His hand slides to a particularly large knife and he takes it up, walking towards the door.

“Stay right there, peaches,” he hisses, sounding less like his fake-polite persona and more like an angry serial killer.

He opens the door and peeks his head out. Almost immediately, there’s a gunshot. He hears the Cannibal grunt and stumble back, but not fall.

Another slamming sound, probably someone kicking the door the rest of the way open, then a second gunshot. This time, there is a solid thump as the Cannibal hits the floor. A third gunshot comes anyways, and then there’s quiet. If Jason strains his ears, he can hear the mechanical rasp of the Plague Doctor, breathing heavily.

Jason closes his eyes, tears welling up. He doesn’t want to be relieved. He doesn’t want to be relieved that they’re here, but he is.

“Are you in here?” They ask, after a moment.

“What took you so long?” Jason responds, voice shaking.

“This is a big place.” They walk over, footsteps more hurried than usual. It’s the tall one. When they see him, they stop. Jason wonders if it’s really that bad, or if all the blood is misleading. Instead of commenting, they use their free hand to undo Jason’s bindings. He can’t help but note that they’re holding Christian’s gun. He doesn’t want to think about it.

When he’s free, he rubs his wrists and sits up, slinging his legs off the side of the chair.

“Do you need me to call 911?” Funny. It’s the first time they’ve asked.

“Do I need stitches?” Jason returns.

“Probably.”

He sighs, and pushes himself to his feet, despite the tremors in his legs. “Alright.”

The Plague Doctor returns to the body of the Cannibal, crumpled in the corner, and searches him. He doesn’t have a phone of his own on him, but he does have Jason’s. So they hand the phone to him and he gets to dial the number himself.

“911 operator, what’s your emergency?”

“It’s Jason Joon-ho. I was kidnapped by the Cannibal. The Plague Doctor saved me, but I’m hurt. I’m currently in…”

“In Warehouse number fifteen,” the Plague Doctor informs him.

“Warehouse fifteen,” he repeats.

The Plague Doctor turns to go.

“That’s not your gun,” Jason finds himself saying, before he can stop himself. The Plague Doctor looks at Jason, then at their hand.

“Better in my hands than in one of theirs,” they state.

“Better in no one’s. Better if you leave it here.” Jason stays firm.

They test the weight of the gun, like they’re still unfamiliar with it.

“Hopefully we’ll reach the point where I can give it up, soon,” they say, lowering their arm. That gives Jason pause.

“How do you sleep at night, after doing shit like this?” He asks.

“With all my windows locked.” They leave.

The police and paramedics come and his brain sets on autopilot. He barely thinks. Even when his dad gathers him up in a tight hug and apologizes.

Getting home feels weirder than after the previous attacks. He goes to bed without eating. No appetite. And as he lies there, he thinks about how every other time, there’d been some sliver of a chance, some way he could’ve hoped to have gotten out. But this time, he really would’ve died without the Plague Doctor.

[bluegrasshole]

Adam Birkholtz’s Foolproof Guide to the Perfect Birthday

because i never posted it on tumblr in full and i’m craving that sweet validation. holsom fluff ???? two words i never thought i’d say. there are dick jokes tho so don’t worry i haven’t been kidnapped. 6k and rated T for “total drama holster”. content warning: ABBA

ao3

As far back as he can remember, people have told Adam Birkholtz that he is too dramatic. It’s usually said in an exasperated tone, by his parents and schoolteachers and coaches -- that Birkholtz boy is quite the character, or Adam, do you have to be so loud? they say, and then sigh. Sometimes it’s said with amusement, often when he first meets new teammates or people at parties -- is he always like this? And someone -- ok, usually Jack or Dex -- nods and rolls their eyes and says you have no idea. Point is, people say it all the time, even though it’s definitely not true. And now he’ll never, ever get the chance to prove them wrong, because on March 28th, 2016, Holster’s going to die.

March 28th, 2016, Justin Oluransi, co-captain of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team and love of Holster’s life, is turning 23, and Holster doesn’t know what to do about it. It’s in a week, and he’s got nothing.

They’ve long since had a rule for holidays and birthdays and anniversaries to forego gift-giving in favour of less stressful things like dates and hat tricks, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about that. It’s just, he’s been busy – being co-captain and co-Haus-supervisor is a lot of work, and his fourth year classes have been kicking his ass, and they’ve been practicing more than ever trying to rebuild the team post-Jack, and playing too, and he and Ransom been having like, a lot of sex, and – fuck. So he hasn’t had much time to plan anything for Ransom. And it’s kind of freaking Holster out.

The thing is, he wants it to be perfect. Because, well, he loves Ransom. Duh. They’ve only been together for 152 days (and 3 hours) but really, they’re both on the same page about the whole together-forever thing. Even when they weren’t dating, being apart for any length of time was never going to be an option. They’re like, soulmates or something. Swolemates, if you will. They put the romance in bromance. And the sex is swawesome. Double duh. So Holster just wants this birthday to be unforgettable, because it’s a first out of many firsts and also their last year as students in the place they met, and just – he needs it to be good. Alright?

On the 20th, Holster does what any desperate man in his position would do: he turns to sitcoms for help.

It only takes four episodes of Full House, six of Modern Family, and a whole season and a half of Friends to conclude that really, Ross never deserved Rachel at all, and that this plan is a totally inefficient use of his time. He’s still exactly where he started, with his heart rate sitting between light jog and Chowder touching a puck off the ice, and getting closer to that time Nursey spilled some vodka-cran on Dex’s laptop by the minute.

He walks into the Haus after his afternoon class on the 22nd to find Bitty struggling through some French grammar with Jack on Skype, as has become a normal sight in the past few months.

“Hey guys,” he says, properly dejected, and throws his bag down and thumps into a chair. It creaks ominously but he ignores it to lean his chin on his arms and sigh.

“Holster?” Jack says. Bitty nods and turns the screen so it captures half of each of them. Jack waggles his fingers at him and Holster can only muster up the will to show his teeth and nothing more.

“Everything alright?” Bitty says.

“No,” he says, and then, like a stroke of brilliance, it comes to him. Why does he have to do all the thinking and planning? He’s surrounded by people who know Ransom nearly as well he does, isn’t he? He sits up fast, and both Jack and Bitty blink at him, frowning.

“It isn’t?” says Bitty slowly.

“Uh, not yet, but it’s fine, I think. Hey,” Holster says, “what is like, your ideal date? Hypothetically.”

Bitty reddens instantly and glances at Jack, whose frown has turned into a confused smile.

“Oh,” Bitty says, “um. Hypothetically? Maybe, uh, cooking together, then bringing what we made to have a picnic in the sun. You know. Bring a few beers, some sandwiches, pie. There’s a nice river by my house with a clearing that’s kind of hidden from -- oh. Um. Hypothetically, that kind of thing.”

In Providence, Jack coughs. “We did that this summer,” he says.

“And wasn’t it nice?”

“It was,” Jack says. They share a heated glance, which is impressive given that Jack’s face is on a computer screen. Sounds like it was probably nice and naked, Holster thinks, which honestly sounds like right up his and Ransom’s alley. Except, well, they don’t cook much, and it’s March. There’s snow on the ground. So. That’s out of the question.

Bitty’s phone trills and he jumps up. “Alarm for my laundry. I’ll be right back.” He pats Holsters shoulder quickly and leaves.

“Nothing planned for Rans’ birthday, huh,” Jack says, leaning closer to the screen. Holster knows for a fact that Jack has all his friends’ birthdays in his phone and the alarms are set to ring a week in advance, the day before, and the morning of. Goddamn organized bastard.

“Don’t wanna hear it,” Holster grumbles, crossing his arms. “What’s your answer?”

“Okay, okay. Don’t tell Bittle but,” Jack says, lowering his voice, “I’ve rented out the rink at the Rockefeller for a private hour-long session for us around midnight on New Year’s Eve.”

Holster isn’t able to describe the sound that comes out of his mouth -- half laughter, half squeak, half snort. Oh, whatever. So he’s never been that great at fractions.

“How much did that cost you?” he says, his voice sounding strangled even to his ears. “That’s in nine months!”

Jack just shrugs. “Think it’ll top a picnic?”

Holster gapes. “I -- Jesus, Jack. I can’t do that for Rans.”

Just then, Bitty walks back into the kitchen with a laundry basket full of hot clothes and sets it down with a clatter next to the table. He cracks open a can of beer he must have brought from downstairs, and takes another from the top of the basket and waves it at Holster. A drink sounds nice right about now, actually. He takes it gratefully.

“Hm? Can’t do what?” Bitty asks.

“Hiking,” Jack says rapidly.

“It’s true. I hate hiking,” Holster says. “And nature. Fuck trees.”

Bitty frowns. “You and Ransom went on a camping trip in August. You said, and I quote, that you are the Kings of the Forest, Sires of the Squirrels, and Lords of the Leaves, and that if you could take the earth’s hand in marriage, you would, and you’d ask the rivers to marry all three of you as Justice of the Peace. Actually, I think I have a screenshot. Here, look--”

“Uh, I developed an allergy to dirt over the winter. Gives me this rash, like, down there. Super painful.” Ignoring once more the creak of the chair under his weight, Holster slides it back. “Gotta go. Thanks for the help!”

He drains the can of beer in thirty seconds -- not quite a record but fast enough that he’ll have to tell Rans about it later -- and runs out to the tinny sound of Jack’s laughter before Bitty can ask any more questions.

The next day finds him following the frogs to Annie’s after practice, because Dex has a shift and Chowder and Nursey need to study, and Holster still has a capital-P-Problem.

“Oh! I’m so excited you’re going to study with us,” Chowder says as he pushes the door open to the sound of the tinkling bell. The warmth and the scent of coffee wraps around them and Holster breathes in deep. “I’ve been meaning to pick your brain actually, about this stats project I think you did last year? With that cool prof, Daigle?”

“Hm?” Holster’s momentarily distracted by the sweets display, but shakes his head to clear his head of chocolate chips and turns back to Chowder and Nursey. Dex goes behind the counter. “Oh, yeah, I’ve still got it on my computer. Yo, uh, I’ve got a question.”

“So do I,” Dex says, tying his apron around his waist and making his way to the register. “What do you want?”

Nursey leans on the counter and winks. “Surprise me.”

“You’re getting black coffee,” Dex says without pause. He types it into the POS quickly and doesn’t look up.

“With a surprise?”

“No.”

“A surprise shot of hazelnut?”

“I guess you’ll find out,” Dex says. “What about you two? Nursey’s treat.”

Holster orders something sweet as Nursey splutters a half-hearted protest and Chowder gets something that has a colour vaguely reminiscent of milky tub juice (never again, he reminds himself), and they stand at the counter watching Dex make their drinks with the same agility and confidence that makes him a great player on the ice. For a second, Holster is envious of that calm, because he himself hasn’t felt very calm lately, and then remembers that this is Dex, and calm is the opposite of his natural state of being anywhere else.

Five days, he repeats over and over in his mind. Five days left to plan something for Ransom.

“What is like,” Holster starts, readjusting his laptop bag on his shoulder, “your ideal date.”

“Sharks game!” Chowder says immediately, to no one’s surprise. “Or, huh, maybe bowling. Bowling’s fun. Cait and I love bowling.”

“Mm, nothing says romance quite like putting your feet in stinky shoes worn by hundreds of other people,” Dex says. He hands Nursey his drink -- decidedly not just black coffee -- and starts in on whatever grassy thing Chowder wants. It probably has kale or something in it. Ew.

“What do you know about romance?” Nursey asks.

Dex ignores him. “Look, Holster. It’s easy. Go to Jerry’s. You can sit for a while, it’s cheap, there’s food, good beer, a pool table for when the conversation gets awkward, and if you’re lucky there’s live music. Dinner and entertainment, all in one place,” he says.

“Hm. A truly optimal bird-to-stone ratio,” Holster says. “And I do appreciate efficiency. I’m just looking for something a bit more, uh, special? Rans and I go to Jerry’s all the time.”

“You asked, bro,” Dex says, shrugging. He scoops something neon green into a cup of ice and Holster barely holds back a grimace, choosing instead to turn to Nursey with what he hopes is a beseeching look on his face. It’s one thing practicing your most convincing expressions in the comfort of your own shared bathroom in a frathaus, but it’s another to actually use them.

“Derek Malik Nurse. My favourite, most fanciest man. What about you?”

Nursey barely has the time to open his mouth before Dex and Chowder answer at the same time: “Poetry reading.”

“Hey! That’s not -- it’s -- okay, yeah, probably.” Nursey takes a sip from his mug and comes away with a whipped cream mustache on top of his regular facial hair. “But in my defence, it’s a nice relaxing environment and a great opportunity to move past small talk and delve into the deeper questions of essentialism and our purpose in life and what comes after death.”

“In reality nothing gets him hot like a poem with a good rhyme scheme,” Chowder fake-whispers into Holster’s ear.

“Second only to one without a rhyme scheme at all,” Dex says.

“Aw, fuck you guys. Who paid for your drinks again?”

“And left me a nice tip. Twenty-five percent, Nursey? Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” Dex says. “By the way, you’ve got a little -- yeah -- oh, no, you made it worse. Oh well. Tough luck.”

“Goddamn it!”

Chowder laughs all the way to their table, and Holster, well, Holster still has nothing.

He corners Ollie and Wicks behind the cafeteria salad bar at suppertime when he tells Ransom he’s going to get more tartar sauce for his fish sticks, and asks them his question. They hesitate for a second, nod simultaneously, then fist bump without even looking at each other. A level of synchronicity he and Ransom strive to achieve, but probably never will.

“Paris,” they say together.

Holster snorts. “For real, come on.”

“Bro,” Wicks says, “you said ideal, not realistic.”

“Yeah. That Eiffel tower shit is like, wicked ideal. The ultimate.”

They fist-bump again, of course. In his amusement and slight confusion (amusion, he decides in his head -- or, confusement, maybe), Holster forgets the tartar sauce completely, but distracts Ransom with a well-timed kiss and the whispered promise of a backrub when they get back to the Haus. Across the table Bitty rolls his eyes at the sight and opens his mouth to say something that will most definitely start with F and rhyme with Chris Pine, and in his haste to stick his tongue out at him, Holster accidentally puts it in Ransom’s ear. Instead of the expected indignant squawking he gets a half-shiver which is like, ok, weird, definitely getting filed in his head for... later.

“You doing okay?” Ransom asks that night, after later. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other much these past few days.”

They’re naked and sweat-sticky but warm and wrapped up in each other and blankets in the bottom bunk, Holster’s feet hanging off the edge through the hole they cut in the frame for this specific purpose. He feels like he’s the sleepiest he’s ever been, probably, so he burrows his face deeper into Ransom’s neck and sighs.

“M’just busy,” he mumbles, unwilling to put the effort into making himself more understandable than he has to. Ransom will get him. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Ransom says. Holster doesn’t remember answering -- the next thing he knows, it’s morning, and Ransom is scrambling to turn off their alarm as George Michael asks them to wake him up before he go-goes. After a second of relative silence -- there’s the shower squealing below them and a few loud thumps of someone coming up the stairs and Bitty singing Ariana Grande somewhere -- Ransom groans, leans over to kiss Holster on the cheek, then rolls out of bed to get ready for the day.

Holster’s walking to class an hour later with March and one of their other econ friends, regretting mostly every decision in his life that has led him to this point. He’s only got a few days left and is no closer to finding anything worthy of Justin-Love-of-Holster’s-Life-Oluransi. Actually, he’s less and less sure that anything worthy exists.

“--and then the prof said… Adam! Holster?” March says, and Holster shakes himself.

“Huh?”

“What’s up with you, bro?” says Jimmy Jeffers. Nice guy, but what else would you expect from a guy named Jimmy? It’s a good name. There’s a shortage of Jimmys in the world, Holster thinks.

“Adam!” March repeats.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. I’ve been distracted lately, I guess,” he says.

March squints up at him then nods decisively. “Justin’s birthday,” she says, though it seems to be mostly for Jimmy’s benefit. “Next week. He’s got nothing.”

“Who’s Justin?” Jimmy asks.

Holster gasps and brings his hand to his heart. “Bro, how can you not know who Justin is? Everyone knows who Justin is. I can’t believe this.”

“Check your Facebook, he’s on there,” March says, rolling her eyes and waving a hand in dismissal at Jimmy, who immediately takes out his phone. “Talk to me, Birkholtz.”

“You dated him. What do you think I should do?” Holster asks, recognizing the desperation in his tone and unable to stop it.

“Weird,” Jimmy mutters.

“Dated is a strong word for what we did,” she says, “which, by the way, you were there for most of.”

“Weirder,” says Jimmy again, jumping over what looks to be a fallen snowcorgi and twisting to avoid someone on a bicycle riding by. The sidewalk is filling with people making their way to and from class, kicking their way through the slush and salt that’s built up on the ground.

“Don’t bring the fact that we’ve seen each other naked on multiple occasions into this. I need help!” Holster cries. He buries his face in his hands. “If I don’t find something to do for Ransom’s birthday, I’m going to die, plain and simple!”

“Adam, watch--”

March’s voice cuts off abruptly as Holster, still hiding behind his fingers, collides with another body -- a man’s, slightly past middle-aged, in a well-fitted navy suit and fluffy green earmuffs. The man blinks up at him, rubbing his forehead -- he’s very short, even by Holster’s standards, and vaguely familiar in the way that a man you’d seen on a Febreze commercial a couple times might be familiar if you walked by him in the street -- and smiles.

“Laser tag,” the man says.

Holster’s hands fly to his mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“Excellent,” the stranger says, reaching up to pat Holster on the shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Holster can see March hit Jimmy’s arm repeatedly, gaping, and Jimmy whispers something furiously and pulls out his phone. “Laser tag!”

“What?” Holster asks. Because, well, what?

“There’s a great place in the north end of town that rents out a room for birthday parties. I’m a regular there -- I go every weekend. Here, do you want their card?” The man is beaming, adjusting his suit and hitching his leather messenger bag back into position, the reaches into his breast pocket to pull out a stack of business cards, every one the same. He hands one to all three of them. “Gotta run. Good luck!”

The man dashes off into the snow and Holster is left with his mouth open, brow furrowed in confusion, unsure whether or not that was just a fluffy green hallucination. Except, well, he is holding a business card, and March and Jimmy are too.

“Oh my god,” March breathes, then bursts into laughter.

“That -- that was the president. Samwell University’s president,” Jimmy says, turning his phone around for Holster to see. Sure enough, there he is, with his own Wikipedia page and everything. “Weirdest.”

“You know,” March says later, once they’ve finally slipped into the back of their lecture hall only two minutes later, “it’s not such a bad idea. Want me to send a message?” She points to her laptop, where the laser tag place’s Facebook page is open, and Holster shrugs, because what else can he do?

Concentrating on class isn’t happening, so instead he texts Ransom a dirty limerick which could probably give Nursey a run for his money in the poetry department (There once was a d-man named Ransom / Who Holster thought very handsome / He had a big dick / Enjoyed a good lick / One half of the sexiest twosome), and doodles aimlessly in the margins of his notebook. Laser tag could work, he thinks, as long as they’re not like, in a game with a bunch of kids… but maybe he could bring the others along for some surprise team bonding, which could be fun. Ransom would enjoy the couple hours of distraction from his homework and it’s competitive enough that it would hold everyone else’s attention. Also, like, shooting shit is fun as fuck. Maybe it’s not romantic or anything, but --

“Aw hell,” March whispers. She points to her computer screen. “It’s booked up until Tuesday.”

Holster all but collapses onto the desk.

“Well, there’s always dinner and a movie,” Jimmy says, patting Holster’s arm gently.

It’s time, Holster thinks, to haul in the big guns.

Lardo’s studio space is on the other end of campus, in an old convent repurposed in the 70s as first the building for Samwell’s secretarial sciences then later as the art department. General consensus is that it sees as many if not more portraits of Jesus and Mary now as it did as a convent, because, well, art students. When Holster knocks on the door of Lardo’s designated space, he’s totally unsurprised that Shitty is the one who opens it, dressed only in what looks to be a fuschia jock strap. That probably wasn’t a very common sight for the old nuns, anyway.

“Holster! The man, the myth, the -- are you still growing, dude? I swear to fuck you weren’t this tall last time I saw you. Hey, Lards, Holtzy’s here. Seriously, brah. What’s Bitty putting in his pies?” Shitty says, mostly all in one breath. He steps aside to let Holster in, who enters to see Lardo lying on a paint-splattered tarp, an arm thrown over her eyes, a googly eye stuck to her wrist and a bag of two-bite brownies half-empty beside her. There are crumbs on her mouth, and three cans of Redbull on a table in the corner.

“You alright?” Holster asks, poking her with his toes. He plops down next to her and crosses his legs, really hoping the paint on the tarp is dry. It makes a crinkly, plasticky sound as he arranges himself.

“Just brought a piece down to the kilns,” Shitty says, falling too, more gracefully than is generally expected from a man of his aesthetic. He lays his head on Lardo’s stomach. “She worked on it for weeks.”

“Tired,” Lardo says. Her voice is hoarse. “Art. Hard.”

“Believe me, I know,” Holster says.

Lardo’s arm lifts slightly so she can squint at him. “How,” she says. “You’re not an artist.”

Holster pffts. “Just because you don’t appreciate my Abba fanfiction doesn’t mean no one does.”

“I’m more of a One Direction guy myself,” Shitty mumbles. Lardo begins petting his mustache with her thumb which would be sweet if Shitty didn’t moan softly with each downstroke (and if he wasn’t ninety five percent naked).

“Right. Okay. Well.” Holster clears his throat. “What is your ideal date?”

“Are you propositioning us? I swear I had a recurring dream of this exact situation in two different languages last year, neither of which were English. Do you speak Dutch, by any chance?” Shitty says, and Holster doesn’t quite know how to answer. Luckily, Shitty has never needed a response to continue his ramblings. “Nevermind. Stoned stargazing, definitely. Looking up at the universe, feeling small, but like, connected. Because you’re together. You feel me, brah? Like you’re part of a community. More than the sum of your parts. God, that’s beautiful. Should I write that down? Remind me to write that down.”

There’s a pause, a silence filled only by the steady drip-drip of the sink in the corner of the room and the noise of the tarp moving with each breath Lardo and Shitty take.

“Is he well?” Holster eventually asks Lardo. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“The doctors say there’s nothing we can do,” Lardo says. Her hands move up to scratch at his hair. “So, there’s this park uptown, right? Across the street from this laser tag place, I think. D’you know it?”

“I’m... familiar, yes.”

She pushes Shitty’s head down to her thighs and sits up sleepily, like a mummy awoken from her slumber. “Okay, well, it’s super gorgeous in the summer, with this river running through it,” she says. “You can rent a swan boat and shit. They have little food dispensers so you can feed the ducks. And in the winter they have an outdoor rink run by the town, and a bunch of snow tunnels at one end of the park, and like, snowman-making competitions. There’s a hot chocolate vendor too. So I always thought… No, no. It’s stupid.”

“What! What!” Holster straightens his back. This could be it.

“Well, alright… Uh, there’s this bridge at one end of the park. Beautiful wrought iron, overlooks these ice sculptures that light up when the sun sets. Super pretty.”

Of course Lardo would figure it out for him. Why did he ever ask anyone else? “Oh my god, is it one of those bridges you can put a love lock on?” he asks, incredibly excited. It might be the answer to his desperate calls for advice to the universe.

She frowns. “What? No. I’ve just always wanted to spraypaint a dick on it.”

“Nice,” Shitty says with emphasis.

“You know, bring some rum to keep you warm, go at like two in the morning, and just fucking paint it on there. It would represent how the bourgeoisie --”

Alright, so Lardo isn’t any help. Why was he kidding himself that it would be so simple? He doesn’t bother listening to the rest, choosing instead to turn and fall face forward onto the tarp. His nose lands in a splotch of paint that is definitely not dry. Just his fucking luck.

He texts his family group chat that night, because sitting across from Ransom at the library and watching the fucking adorable way he bites his lip when he’s concentrating hard isn’t accomplishing anything. In fact, with every lip-bite, Holster feels his soul hurtle towards death even faster.

Me [7:43]: Friends, family and acquaintances, what would be, in your opinion, the most romantic date ever? This is by far the most important question I have ever asked you.

TyrANNAsaurus Rex [7:43]: dibs on being an acquaintance

Mama B [7:43]: Ooohhh!!!!

Mama B [7:46]: Maybe a fancy homemade supper, some good wine, then a walk downtown

Mama B [7:47]: That’s how your father proposed, twenty-five years ago last January!!! :-)

Ransom barely looks up when Holster snorts, only furrows his brows deeper and bends so close to his paper his nose is almost touching. Which is so cute. God, his boyfriend is fucking gorgeous. Ugh. Holster feels like he’s going to explode.

TyrANNAsaurus Rex [7:49]: yikes lol

Rebecky with the good hair [7:52]: going to a fair. winning stuffies for each other. funnel cakes. kissing him at the top of the ferris wheel

Me [7:53]: It’s March

Mama B [7:54]: I thought you were dating Justin, not March????

Holster sometimes regrets telling his mother everything about his life (or, like, almost everything). This is one of those times.

TyrANNAsaurus Rex [7:55]: what’s this for anyway

Me [7:56]: It’s for Ransom’s BIRTHDAY. You should KNOW THIS. I THOUGHT I told you to put his birthday on the family calendar MOM

Rebecky with the good hair [7:58]: she just got up from the couch to go check it

Rebecky with the good hair [8:00]: ok she’s back, she says it’s not there. whoops

Rebecky with the good hair [8:01]: we’re going to the mall to get him something before it closes. anna you coming

TyrANNAsaurus Rex [8:02]: only if u buy me a pretzel. extra mustard

Rebecky with the good hair [8:03]: fine. come downstairs. i’ll go get dad in the garage

Me [8:03]: what about me!!!

Me [8:06]: UGH I’M DISOWNING YOU ALL. YOU WERE MY LAST HOPE

Me [8:07]: goodbye

Me [8:07]: f o r e v e r

“Holster?”

Holster nearly drops his phone at the sound of Ransom’s voice, and scrambles to catch it, fumbling a few times.

“Babe! It’s not time to stop yet, is it?” he says, smiling widely with his phone precariously caught between his pinky and ring finger.

“You’re. You’re humming that song,” Ransom says. His voice sounds strained. “The sad Abba one. Slipping Through My Fingers.”

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry, Rans,” Holster says, wincing. Abba has betrayed him again. “The Winner Takes It All would maybe be more appropriate thematically in this situation. Or Knowing Me, Knowing You? Actually, no, I got it. SOS. A classic. Wait, who am I kidding? They’re all classics.”

Ransom looks pained. “Babe.”

Right. Time to go be distracting somewhere else. Holster kisses Ransom on the cheek with a gentle reminder to text him when he needs a few minutes break before moping off to the Haus, determinedly in silence.

Friday they have practice again, and Saturday is spent on a bus to Connecticut, then playing, then sleeping, then driving back the next morning. Everyone’s exhausted, even on the trip up, and Holster caught the bus driver’s questioning eyes in the mirror when they first climbed aboard.

“Long season,” he said, shrugging. “And midterms.”

That’s not really the reason he’s struggling now. He’s just, well, tired, mostly. Frustrated with himself. He’s the worst boyfriend in the world probably, and should just go curl up into that weird crawl-space behind the washer and dryer in the basement that Ransom swears is where the ghosts go during the day. It’s true that it often smells like berry Lip Smackers down in that general area, though Holster’s not sure that isn’t just Chowder’s laundry detergent.

Whatever. Point is, Holster should know what to do for his boyfriend’s birthday, shouldn’t he? He knows Ransom better than anyone in the world (he knows this for a fact because he once sent Ransom’s family a questionnaire about Ransom, so he could compare answers -- none of them got Ransom’s favourite Yankee Candle scent, which is Honey Clementine, and only Dami, the eldest Oluransi sister, knew that number three on Ransom’s bucket list is to touch Serena Williams’ right bicep).

When Holster wakes from his nap on the bus, his forehead wet and cold from where he was leaning on the rattling window and a funny feeling in his stomach, he realizes there’s only one thing left to do: give up.

The bus driver drops them off at the rink, and it’s Nursey and Ransom’s turn to bring the equipment in. Normally Holster would stay and help, but it’s snowing hard and Tango looks like a puppy left out in a storm, so Holster rolls his eyes and asks if he and Whiskey would like a drive back to their rez. He can come get Ransom later. One of the only things he can do for him, apparently.

“How are you doing, Holster?” the unfailingly polite Tango asks as soon as he climbs in the back seat of Holster’s old-ass maroon Sunfire.

“Why? Does it look like I’m doing bad?” Holster says. In the rear-view mirror, Tango’s eyes go wide and concerned. Whiskey, of course, only snorts.

“Well, it does now,” he says in that drawling, bored, monotone voice of his. Though his eyebrow twitching does indicate slight interest, maybe.

“Oh no!” Tango gasps, then scoots up in the middle seat as far as his seat belt allows him so his head is nearly level with Holster and Whiskey’s. “What’s wrong, Captain?”

“I don’t deserve to be called that right now,” Holster grumbles.

“But we won yesterday,” Tango says. He sounds confused, but Holster can’t confirm if his face matches it, because it really is snowing pretty hard and he has to focus on not hitting any students or university presidents that might be out for a stroll. It probably does, though. Perpetual confusion is like, most of Tango’s personality. Sweet kid, though.

“I’m no longer captain of my own life and relationship, so I’m demoting myself. Well, metaphorically-speaking.”

“Holy fuck,” Whiskey whispers, and hits his head on the back of the seat a couple times.

Since he’s got nothing left to lose, Holster decides to ask one last time. It’s not like he’s going to get a good answer, not from a couple eighteen-year-olds, but fuck it. Right? All in.

“Um. Hey. Okay, first of all, if you tell anyone I asked you this I will, uh, turn you both upside down and pour Pepsi up your nose,” he begins, to cover his bases.

“I prefer Coke,” Tango says promptly.

“I know. So, it’s Ransom’s birthday tomorrow, and I don’t have anything planned yet, so… what sounds like the perfect date to you? I’m pretty fucking desperate.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Tango’s practically vibrating in his seat. “I love the aquarium. There’s one in Boston! Oh my god. If you go, can I come?”

Whiskey twists in his seat and rolls his eyes. “This is stupid,” he says.

“Aquariums aren’t stupid,” Tango says.

“Not that,” Whiskey says. “I mean, you’re asking the wrong question. Why does it matter what we think is the best date?”

“I don’t think I understand,” Holster says. He pulls into a parking space near the residence.

“I know I don’t understand,” Tango says.

It’s only later, when he’s picked up Ransom and Nursey from Faber and brought them back to the Haus, and he’s in the kitchen watching Ransom talk to Bitty about the moisturizing benefits of coconut oil versus shea butter, that he thinks he finally gets it.

The chair creaks one last time as he leans back to enjoy the image, and gives out under his weight with a crack! and followed by the heavy thump! of his tailbone hitting the hard floor.

“Oh my god!” Bitty cries. Ransom looks like he’s torn between laughter and concern, and the giggles are winning out. “Are you alright?”

“You know, Bitty?” Holster says, sprawled out on his back with shards of wood poking his ass and back, and Ransom’s eyes crinkling in mirth and something even warmer. “I really think I am.”

In the end, it takes a couple hours of work, some very important phone calls, and much begging and chore-switching with the other Haus-mates, but when Ransom comes home from afternoon class on March 28th, 2016, the attic has become a giant, structurally-sound blanket fort, the Haus TV has been moved upstairs along with all game consoles, there’s four different kinds of takeout on the desk, a grocery bag full of snacks, a variety of condoms laid out on the bed, and Holster, sitting in the nest he made of pillows, waiting with a birthday cupcake and a party hat, beaming.

Ransom drops his bag and immediately crawls up next to Holster. The cupcake barely makes it out of the way before Ransom attacks Holster’s mouth with his mouth.

“Babe!” he says between kisses. “This! Is! Amazing!”

“You think?” Holster says. He’s so, so happy.

“Yeah. Look at all this! Is that green curry and chicken wings? And you got me a cupcake instead of regular cake? God, you know me so well.”

Because he can, Holster kisses him again. “I know you like how tiny they look in your big hands,” he says. “Oh, and everybody cleared out for the night, so it’s just us.”

“I can’t believe you did all this,” Ransom says, collapsing onto the bed of fluffy pillows and smiling up at the polar-fleece ceiling. “How long have you been planning?”

“Oh, a little while,” Holster says, which is not even a lie. “You wanna play a round of Super Smash Bros? Winner gets to pick the sex playlist later.”

Ransom sighs happily and holds out his arms, and Holster goes easily. “Not yet. Come here and bask with me.”

“Happy birthday,” Holster says. He snuggles closer.

Everything is right in the world once more: Ransom is happy, Holster has accomplished something great, and no one died. Only one chair was harmed in the making of this birthday gift. Why did he think he needed a grand, romantic date or a fancy night out or any of those things the others suggested? This is what Ransom wants, this is what he wants, and this is just… them. Together.

As far back as he can remember, people have told Adam Birkholtz that he is too dramatic. Which actually, is kind of fine, as long as he’s still got Ransom.

“Best birthday ever,” Ransom says.

That’s all Holster ever wanted to hear.