#she SITS HIM DOWN FOR PRETEND DINNER until finally he breaks and talks to the store lady abt them!!!!

[broke-on-books]

LITERALLY this short film

[nyrasbloodyclover]

who else decodes you? (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)

cw: alcoholism, eating disorder, reader wants to fix aegon, aegon is pathetic, but i love him

a/n: i am finally writing fics again! another malachy and another aegon fic coming up, but i think i'll continue writing for daemon bc i miss him.

Targaryens were very strange. Well, I was only friends with Helaena, but being her friend also meant spending time with her family, as much as I didn't want to. She always invites me to their dinners and movie nights, so naturally, her brothers were also there. Their mother was always warm and welcoming, Alicent wasn't the issue, at least not to me. Nor was Aemond. He ignored me most of the time, which I had no problem with.

Whenever I stayed over, Aegon always found a way to bother me. When we watch a movie, he keeps tugging on my hair, or touching my neck in a very annoying way, I slapped his hand once and caused all of the attention to focus on us, which was so embarrassing  I immediately went home.

When I started dating my first and only boyfriend he somehow found out and mocked me until Helaena started yelling. She never does that.

Aegon was walking down the hallway when he saw me and Haelena sitting on her bed, with an open door, so he took that as his invite after hearing our conversation. He peeked from the door. "He's only waiting the right time. To fuck you, I mean."

My cheeks started burning. "Are you jealous?" I had no better answer to his remark.

"How could I be?" He grinned, ready for me to bite back, but when I didn't, he just giggled, "You'll just feel used after he's done with you."

Then Helaena snapped and kicked him out, cursing, which was the funniest thing, I couldn't even feel bad.

It turned out he was right, but not the way he thought. I couldn't stop thinking about his words, so I broke up with that guy. And then I found out he started dating someone, only to fuck her then leave her. Almost the whole school was talking about it, so he saved me from that humiliation. I was never going to admit it, though.

He was the strangest and most rebellious from the three of them. Aegon was drinking. Aegon was fucking. Aegon smoked and went to parties he was not supposed to. Actually, he was just harming himself, but nobody wanted to see that. It was like everybody turned their heads when it came to him, but it wasn't my place to comment on it.

He occupied my mind more than I'd like to admit. With all his unnecessary comments and devilish grins, Aegon got under my skin. 

Helaena once accidentally left her charger at my house and asked me to bring it to her. I had nothing to do, so I immediately went to her. What I didn't know was that nobody was home.

Well except for, obviously, Aegon.

I knocked once, then twice, but when no one opened I just entered. The house was empty. Or so I thought for the first few seconds. Until I heard muffled sobbing.

My whole body went rigid. I was invading someone's privacy at that very moment and I needed to go back home, but I couldn't. I knew the cries were coming from Aegon and it made everything worse. 

I went upstairs, dragging my feet towards his room. I didn't have to do anything. I could just go back and pretend I didn't hear anything. He was probably waiting to be alone, to have a moment to break down and I was ruining it.

"Aegon?" I thought he was going to be startled, yell at me to go away, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence. He was on the floor of his room, covered in vomit and spit, probably, with an empty bottle of god knows what. I wanted to cry.

His mouth was half opened, face relaxed for a second, then it became painful again, new set of tears coming through. I kneeled beside, holding his shoulders, "Aegon, can you hear me?" I wasn't panicking because it would do more harm than good. I gently pushed away his sweaty hair. 

I didn't know what was happening but I was going to help him before someone could see him like this. It was obvious that he did stuff like that when no one was near.

I ran to the bathroom first and took some towels, then to the kitchen for a glass of water. I somewhat had experience with things like this.

It was the middle of the day and he was wasted. 

I went to him and took his head into my lap while I cleaned away the vomit.

"I'm sorry." He turned his head away from me.

"It's okay," I whispered, "But please cooperate. You need to get into the shower." Aegon said nothing, but let me continue cleaning his face and neck.

"Come on, let me take off your shirt, Aegon please."

I somehow got him out of his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. He was so beautiful, and it hurt me to watch him like that. What a pretty, broken creature. He had tattoos over his arms and ribs that were much more prominent than last summer. We went to the pool together with Helaena and Aemond and I couldn't help but notice that change.

We managed to get into the bathroom and I dragged him under the shower, letting cold water shock him. His hair was soaking wet, I took another towel and tried to dry him as much as I could.

My heart was racing, he was completely depending on me in that moment and I was so scared someone was going to see us. 

We were in his room once again, Aegon on his bed, under the covers. I quickly cleaned his room, got rid of the dirty clothes and towels I used and hid the bottle. I sat beside him.

"Aegon, you need to eat something." 

"No."

"I'm afraid you have no control over that now." 

"No...don't want to..." 

"I will feed you if you don't do it yourself and I'll tell Aemond." His eyes immediately opened. 

"You wouldn't dare," he mumbled.

"I would." 

I brought him some leftover pizza from the fridge and he ate it, barely moving his jaw, he was almost unconscious. He drank some more water and finally closed his eyes, drifting away. I stroked his hair once more and then left after Sunfyre came into his room.

When I got home, a text from Haelena appeared on my screen.

Sorry for leaving my stuff, won't happen again (I think) <3

I smiled and answered her, because I knew it was going to happen but then one more message came.

Aegon says thank you

Don't know what for though 

I was realived that she didn't know about my little moment with Aegon. I wanted to keep that between us. He wasn't going to remember any of it tomorrow and I couldn't say I was glad.

A month later, Aegon moved out. He still visited home and stayed some nights, mostly when he went out. It set an alarm in my head, now that he was completely alone, he could do what he wanted as much as he wanted. It scared me.

When I started going out I started seeing him more, which didn't help. I couldn't stop thinking about the day I saw him almost poisoned, he let me take care of him in that vulnerable state. It had to mean something, right? Or nothing. He was drugged, nothing more.

When I was with my friends, sipping on my wine, trying to stay as sober as I could, I saw Aegon at the table across from us with some of his stupid friends and a girl on his lap, eating his face. He was hard to miss, with his almost white hair and eyes so blue they were practically violet. I spilled some wine on my golden shirt, but didn't care at the moment.

He stopped for a second to take a shot and then continued kissing her. I didn't know how he could drink after being so sick from alcohol that day. 

I watched him—No— I stared and all of my friends noticed, but to make everything worse, Aegon opened his eyes mid make out session with that girl and locked his gaze with mine. My stomach made a turn. The girl he was kissing didn't notice that his attention was on me. His eyes were intense, but his intention unclear, at least to me. I felt bad for the girl immediately so I broke eye contact.

She wasn't there when he needed someone. I was. Poisonous words.

One of my friends gripped my forearm, "What was that ?" 

"What was what?" I asked, my vision becoming hazy. I took the wine glass and quite literally shoved the rest of alcohol down my throat. And almost threw up.

"You, eye-fucking Aegon Targaryen from across the room?"

"I wasn't." My face was hot. Red wine. From red wine, yes.

"Oh, really?" She pulled out her phone with a photo, of me staring at something, someone, you couldn't see clearly who on the picture, but she was right. "Oh, my god! Delete that. GET RID OF IT!" I was eye-fucking Aegon!

"Told you!" She shouted over the music. 

I laughed. Then giggled. I couldn't believe. Then ordered another drink, until I couldn't see Aegon anymore. I was convinced that my mind would think more clearly without alcohol clouding it. I never ever thought about him like that. 

It was red wine, I thought. 

It wasn't red wine. The next day I couldn't stop thinking about him. I kept replaying the moment he turned his gaze towards me. The goosebumps, the pressure in my stomach and heat I felt throughout my whole body. 

Helaena asked me to hang out later that day. I obviously said yes because I adore her, but an unsettling feeling came and I knew exactly why. Aegon was probably going to be there, even though he had his own place.

I entered their house and everything was silent. I went to Helaena's room that was plastered with posters of bugs and pretty stones and her crazy drawings. She was reading a book and smiled when I came in.

"Where is everyone?"

"Mother is at work, Aemond at the library and Aegon is sleeping. He drank too much last night. As usual." She said that like it's no big deal. It bothered me. It bothered me that I cared enough to ask her about it.

"And none of you have a problem with that? I mean if I drank as much as him, my mother would actually kill me." I laughed so it wouldn't sound suspicious.

 "Well...No, not really. At the end of the day, It's just Aegon." I nodded, like I was agreeing with her, but that was far from the truth. We changed the topic but my mind always kept coming back to him. I couldn't stop.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," I said and left her room, I needed a splash of cold water on my face.

But instead of going directly to the bathroom, my eyes turned towards Aegon's room. The door was open, so I could clearly see him really sleeping on his bed, wearing a green hoodie, looking almost angelic. His hair was all over his forehead, his lashes gently touching his cheeks and he was hugging one of his pillows, comfortably snuggled. I wanted to stare at him for the next five hours but that just was not possible. Sunfyre ran into his room and jumped beside him. 

Aegon's eyes fluttered and my heart stopped, I thought I was going to get caught, but I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really. He frowned as he slowly opened his eyes and I couldn't move. His frown turned into self-satisfied smile but he just turned to the other side and continued sleeping. He didn't see me. 

Did he?

I quickly went back to Helaena's room, trying not to think about Aegon's perfect face, his soft hair and lips or the last night's encounter. Impossible.

She asked me to sleep over and I agreed after calling my mom. I wasn't too tired, since I slept good part of the day. We talked, ordered food, watched a rom-com. It was fun.

Haelena fell asleep and I went downstairs to clean the dishes, trying not to wake up anyone, it was almost three in the morning.

While I washed our cups I felt someone's presence behind me.

I turned my head. "Hello, Aegon. Why are you up so late?"

"I just woke up." His eyes were heavy, his words slow. Hungover, still in his green hoodie, hair messy.

"Well, are you hungry? There is some food left, Helaena and I-"

"Why do you act as if I'm a child?" He frowned. "I can eat if I'm hungry." He snapped suddenly at me.

I sighed, leaving rest of the dishes in the sink. I turned to face him.

"But you're not going to, am I right?" He said nothing.

"Aren't you hot in that?" I nodded towards his hoodie. I was in a top and low-rise shorts and I was still sweating like crazy.

"I can take it off if you want, mother." I couldn't breathe. I recognized mockery behind his words, it came to me like a slap. I knew that I was mothering him and he knew that too, which made everything even more embarrassing.

"No, thank you, I've already seen too much." I meant that as a lighthearted joke but his whole face darkened. Aegon's shoulders slouched and went stiff. He was silent.

"I didn't ask you to be there. I didn't ask for your help."

"Aegon, no, I didn't mean it like that. I could've walked out and then what?" I whispered at him, angry that he's not reading my emotions right. "Helaena calls me and tells me you're dead? That you choked on your own vomit?"

"Stop being dramatic, stop it. None of you understand, so quit trying to act as if you do. It's pathetic."

"Tell me one thing," I got closer, "When was the last time your own mother cared enough to even wonder what is happening with her son?" 

Aegon wasn't even offended by my statement. "Oh, okay, so you noticed. It was that obvious." He shook his head. I hated our conversation, but I also felt some kind of thrill when speaking to him like that. I wanted to know more.

"When did you start drinking? It seemed like you had a fair share of wine and...other things last night." He was changing the subject and I was glad.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Aegon."

"Well, then, you should come to my place sometime. I have a wine collection we could try out." 

My face heated, but then I remembered that he obviously has a problem. And I can't use him like that, no matter how much I wanted to get wasted with him and see where would that take us.

"Thanks for the invite, but I'll pass." Before I walked out of the room, I turned to face him once again, "And try not to make a mess again." I wanted to beg him to stop hurting himself but I was nothing to him, not even a friend, so I had no right to tell him what to do to his body.

"Not promising anything."

I was getting ready to go out, putting on red lipstick, mascara, some glitter over my arms and chest. 

I wore leather mini skirt and a black top that matched perfectly. I wish I thought about anything other than the fact that Aegon's apartment was so close to the club we were going to. What if— No. 

I had to stop myself from finishing that thought but I suddenly wanted to be near him, as near as possible.

I had a few drinks. Maybe more than few. Because you should either go big or go home. And I always followed that rule. I wanted Aegon to be there, my eyes were searching for him everywhere, until my head started spinning, that good, freeing feeling kicking in. I was brave enough now. I could do whatever I wanted.

"Should I take away your phone?" One of my friends shouted over the music.

"I'll behave. Promise." I smiled to myself, an idea already forming in my head. "I'm going to the bathroom, It'll be quick." They just nodded and I went in, sharp white lights blinding me. Everything was too bright, too loud. It was funny. I smiled to myself.

Some girls were inside too, but I didn't bother looking at them. I took out my phone, grinning, and found Aegon's contact.

Helllllllooooiiiiooooo

I didn't expect him to reply to me at all, but my heart did a jump when he replied. We never texted before.

hello? 

My fingers were almost numb and I genuinely had no idea what I was sending him.

AREE YOU BORRED?

certainly not now. u drunk?

I called him and he immediately picked up.

"Aegggoooonnnn?"

"What the fuck..." I guess he was just surprised. I laughed at him and when I gathered myself, I wanted to hang up because I genuinely had nothing to say to him, at least nothing that made any sense. But the reckless part of my brain won.

"Can I come over?" I grinned, he could not see it tho.

He was silent for a while. "Alone?" 

The girls in the bathroom giggled. 

"Yes, alone, you whore."

"I do live close, but you, my girl, are hammered."

"Oh my god, you said 'my girl'."

"It was just an expression."

"No it was not. Come pick me up, please. I helped you once, you should help me too!"

"And what do you suppose we do at my place? You can barely speak properly."

Oh, I did not want to say it. But he knew, And I also knew. 

"Nevermind, I'll call a cab."

"You don't know the adress."

I laughed again and hung up. I knew the adress, Helaena told me.

One of the girls in the bathroom looked at me, smiling, "Was that your boyfriend?"

"Hell, no." 

"So you just plan on hooking up with him, drunk? Do you think he'll want that?"

"To take advantage of my fragile and vulnerable state when I'm clearly not thinking right? Yeah. He can't wait."

"Be careful, I heard it's painful when you're drunk."

That was SO funny. So I cracked up. "If you saw him, you wouldn't think that." I had to stop talking, half of them probably knew Aegon, or fucked Aegon! 

I ditched my friends, that was not the right move, but I texted them my location and that everything is fine.

My feet were hurting but I hardly felt it. Cold night air was a nice change, I thought I might suffocate from the cigarette smoke. 

I called the cab and in five minutes I was in front of Aegon's door. 

Thank god I had one more drink before heading out, I couldn't be sober now. I was much braver, and let's hope Aegon lacked morals like I thought.

I knocked and waited, I was completely sure I heard his footsteps and then door opened. It took everything in me not to jump on him in that moment because I never saw him look so... comfortable.

His hair was a bit shorter, disheveled and Aegon's face seemed so soft. "Hi." I smiled and reached for his face, but his hand stopped me. His hand...

Yeah, I was too drunk.

He let me in and I jumped on his couch. I had no capacity of looking around. Everything was spinning. I sat on it, staring at his ceiling.

He was standing over me and he looked pretty pissed off.

"Why are you here?"

"I missed you!"

"Stop with the nonsense or I'm kicking you out."

"It's not nonsense! How dare you?" I laughed, "Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

He started mumbling to himself and walked away, only to be back with a huge glass of water.

"Nooooo! You're so boring! Aren't you the one who wants to fuck every living, breathing woman."

"Yes, I am. Now drink this."

"Oh, I know. You spiked it." I laughed again. Everything was really funny.

"What the fuck? No, actually, you're not right in the head now. It's fucking water. You need to sober up."

"Why? I though you'd fuck anyone."

"So that's why you're here...Yeah, no."

"What? Am I that despicable? You want anyone, just not me? Really nice."

"I want...I want you to fucking drink this. And start sobering up. Then tell me what you want."

"Oh, you'll see." I took the glass from his hand and gulped it down. He brought me some food and I started eating like a starved animal.

"Aren't you going to join me?"

"No." 

"I actually never saw you eat in the last year and a half." It was an accusation.

"Why are you so obsessed with me and eating? You need to relax."

"Aegon." I glared at him. He said nothing.

"I know what's going on and you have to quit it. I've seen you shirtless. It's scary. Plus the drinking—"

"What do you want? To save me somehow? Fix me?"

"Yes. I helped myself, I'm going to help you."

"I don't want that."

"Bullshit. Aegon, you're ruining your life. You don't eat enough and drink more than I do. That's concerning."

"Are you sober yet?"

"Yes," I lied. I still felt dizzy and brave enough to continue fighting with him.

"What will Helaena think?"

"About what?"

"Me fucking you when you're obviously still drunk and lying to me. Also, you can try to fix me and don't get mad if you fail."

It was like a dream come true. He gave me a permission and that I've always secretly wanted.

"Which one first? Do we fuck or do I try to fix you, as you say?"

"Surprise me."

I congratulated myself for wearing an outfit that was so easy to take off. Now I was standing in front of him in my underwear and he was as serious as ever.

I took a handful of his t-shirt and tugged on it, trying to take it off. He finally let me do it and then I pushed him backwards on his couch. I sat on his lap, straddling him and for a moment I just stared with the biggest grin. "You have no idea for how long I wanted this."

"And you needed to get drunk to actually do it?"

"You're intimidating." I bowed down and kissed him on the cheek, then on the neck, throat and I did it slowly, it was torture for both of us.

I finally reached his lips and I let myself feel his breath for a moment, before pressing my mouth to his. We moved in sync with each other, but I was desperate for more of him. 

"You should've been the one to ruin me. I wouldn't have regretted it."

Aegon closed his eyes as my hand went down his sweatpants, feeling him grow harder and harder with each passing second. But then he turned his face away from me.

"Please get off." Okay, I can't say that it didn't hurt. Especially coming from him. I sat beside him, trying to recover myself from the sudden emotions.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I just can't do it with you. Not yet. Sorry."

"Is that improvement I hear? Not being with a wasted girl?" I joked and thankfully he smiled. I smiled back.

"Go shower, you drunk. You reek of alcohol."

"You sound just like my fatheeeer." He basically pulled me into the bathroom and got out so that I could clean up. Aegon even left me his green hoodie, that green hoodie, but I didn't want to wear it.

"Aegon!" I was really feeling better, I felt like I could finally think clearly.

"Yes?" I heard his voice behind the door.

"It's okay, you can come in." I had a towel around me and as soon as he stepped in, his eyes shamelessly went over me, I hid my smile.

Aegon cleared his throat, "What is it?"

"Can you get me another?" I picked up the green hoodie and gave it to him.

"What's wrong with this one?"

I crossed my hands nervously. Yes, I was totally sober. "I want you to wear it." He looked taken aback by my request. It was a strange one, indeed, but at least there was a chance he's going to fulfill my wishes.

"But...You know what? Nevermind. I'll wear it."

He was so beautiful and he actually looked rested. I was sure he had been drinking, but there was no alcohol in sight. His whole apartment was mostly empty, but clean. I didn't know this side of Aegon existed. Then, he lied about his wine collection.

I followed him into his bedroom and he turned on the lights. Again, empty, no pictures, no decorations, just plain white walls and king-size bed. He opened his closet and threw another hoodie at me, while I was still in a towel. I took my underwear, at least, I was decent like that.

He didn't bother asking me to let him change, he just took off his shirt, revealing his bare torso and the tattoos I loved so much, but had no idea what they meant. He was scarred from the inside and it was starting to show but I said I won't let that happen.

"You quit drinking?" My eyes were on his face now, he was completely dressed.

"I am trying," he was staring at the floor, "How'd you know?"

"I had a feeling." He was a lot calmer, he didn't look so tired and there were no bottles in sight. It seemed like moving out was his best decision yet. I didn't know what triggered his urges, but I was glad he was on his own now.

I put on the clothes he gave me and we went back into his living room. We sat beside each other.

"About earlier..." He started.

"I should apologize, I shouldn't have drank that much and you shouldn't have seen it."

"I am glad it was me and not someone else. But I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"What? How?" I frowned, genuenly confused if he was still talking about the same thing.

"I backed out in the last second. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"Aegon. I was drunk and out of my mind. I wouldn't have regretted it, but...I want to do it again, when I can remember everything clearly. If you want it too, that is."

He looked at me like a lost puppy and it broke my heart, I didn't know the details about his habits, or his friends that were clearly effecting his life in all the worst ways. All of that made him think that everything is his fault and that he deserved no better.

"Are you nuts? Of course I want to. It's like my most bizarre dream, you, drunk throwing yourself at me—"

"Oh, I wasn't—" Yeah, I was.

"You were, darling, and I rejected you. What a dumb cunt."

I laughed and felt comfortable for the first time with him, because there was no one else who could judge and interrupt. 

It was almost 5AM and my eyes felt so heavy I couldn't keep them open anymore.

"You should take me on a proper date, Aegon." I unconsciously rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes finally. It was too good to be true.

"And ruin my reputation? Yes, I think I should."

Sleep came over me and I felt Aegon shift under my body, until I was laying on top of him, my head on his chest. He was stroking my hair.

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Brotherly Love. D.W J.T

Damian Al-Ghul/Wayne × platonic!twin!reader!

Gender Neutral

This is roughly based on the film "Son of Batman", it just includes the other batbros that were not in the film, and the reader does not know Jason.

Brotherly Love Masterlist <- right here

Warnings:mentions of death/assassins/scars/insecurity

Summary: You and your twin brother go to live with your father after your grandfather's death, but time at Wayne Manor brings soon jeopardizes your relationship.

There is probably some grammatical errors.

~☆~

Tragedy had struck your family, when Deathstroke rained an army upon your home, killing hundreds of your families men, including your uncle, and grandfather. Your mother had hurriedly taken you and your brother Damian away from your home, guiding you to America where you would meet your father for the first time.

A tight feeling had bubbled up in your chest, perhaps it was from you grieving your grandfather, or the sadness from leaving your home, maybe- just maybe it was nervousness from getting to finally meet your father. Your fists tightened as you thought about what was happening, Damian who was sitting next to you took notice immediately, and moved to rest one of his hands upon your own, the contact brought you out of your daze, and you turned to look at Damian who was starting dead ahead.

Damian, your beloved twin brother, whom you loved very deeply. He was your anchor for when the days got too tough, you were a trained assassin you were meant to be cold, but alas you were still a child, and he was too.

Sometimes when the two of you were younger you would sneak out of your respective rooms and get into the other's bed, Talia pretend not to notice, and would never dare to speak a word about it. You and Damian would always read books in his room when you both had time away from training, you'd huddle together as one of you voiced what was happening in the books you read, and eventually whichever one of you was being read to would fall asleep upon the other, the one that was reading doing the same not too long after.

On the nights that Ra's would allow dessert to be served after dinner Damian would give you whatever treat was given to him, he was never one for sweets. Every once and a while the pair of you would venture down to the village or around the Al-Ghul grounds, and talk about anything and everything.

You were brought back out of your thoughts as Talia announced that you had arrived in Gotham, she had told you and Damian to wait whilst she retrieved your father.

Talia had come back with a man, dressed in all black, he had a cape and a mask, he was muscular, not too tall and not too short. You and Damian stood side by side as your mother attempted to flirt with him before breaking the news of Ra's Al-Ghul's death, and how the assassins that killed him would more likely come back. Talia then brought back the curtain that you and Damian hid behind, and finally told him that you were his children.

~☆~

Bruce had tried to bond with the two of you at first, you and Bruce would go out to eat and go shopping, whilst Damian would spend time in the Batcave and accompany Bruce to work. When you had the time you and Damian would still huddle up in the giant library and read to each other at night.

~☆~

After some time Bruce eventually had to stop going on your outings together, too busy as Batman and as a businessman. Instead of Bruce, you started going out with Alfred to visit the shops, before you knew it Damian had become Robin and started going out with Bruce into the night and wouldn't arrive back at the Manor until early morning. A downside to being Robin meant that Damian kept sadly turning down your attempts to hang out, instead he spent even more time in the Batcave either training or doing research. You had already attempted to ask Tim to hangout but he was too busy with Wayne enterprises plus keeping up with his own nighly activities as Red Robin, you also knew there would be no reason to call Dick he was all the way in Blüdhaven also to invested in his own police duties and his Nightwing persona, Jason, whom you hadn't met yet was also off of the table, he and Bruce had to many disagreements between the two of them. So instead you settled for either being alone reading one of the thousand books in the library or helping Alfred with household things, and he was more than happy to spend time with you.

After many futile attempts at trying to get Damian to spend time with you he started to get agitated, telling you to just leave him alone for the night, one night he finally had enough and snapped. It was an hour before Batman and Robin would go out for patrol, dinner had finished not to long before, you stayed back to help Alfred clean up, Damian went with Bruce to go set up things for when they leave, it had been weeks since you had some one on one time with Damian so you went down to the batcave to ask him to read, or really to do anything.

You walked down the stairs that led to the batcave, Damian was taking care of his weapons and Bruce was looking at the computer, you creeped up next to Damian and watched as he polished the baterang's. Of course Damian had seen you, he was an assassin he always knew what was happening around him, he let a sigh come out from his nose, and shifted his weight to the foot that was farthest from you as an attempt to distance himself from you.

"What do you want (Y/N)?" He questioned, finally breaking the silence that had been in the batcave. "I just wanted to see if you would like to join me for an activity, we can do whatever you like." You confessed, hopeful that he would say yes.

Damian set down the baterang he was holding and threw his head back in annoyance.

"Damian has to get ready for patrol (Y/N)." Bruce butted in as he sensed Damians change in attitude, turning around in the chair that he sat in he watched as you glanced at him before looking back at Damian, then back to him.

"But that's in and hour, I just wanted to borrow hi-" You tried to reason before being interrupted by an angry looking Damian. "(Y/N) WILL YOU EVER LEAVE ME ALONE, IM BUSY!" He yelled out at you, your eyebrows knit together as you stared at him, never had he ever yelled at you, let alone been angry at you. Bruce had jumped up from his seat and began walking to you guys to make sure nothing else happens between you.

You had started to back away from Damian, still staring at him with shock on your face, Damians still portraying anger as he stared back. You kept backing up until your feet hit the stairs, as they touched the stairs you turned and fled back up to the Manor, running past Alfred who was bringing tea to Bruce and Damian, all the way until you reached your room. You climbed into bed, curling up under the blankets, your mind was going a million miles per hour, Damian had never been mad at you, were you really that annoying? You just wanted to spend time with him like you've done all your life, was that anxious feeling you had before your arrival to Gotham, some sort of prediction?

Apparently sometime during your heartbroken breakdown you must have passed out, cause you awoke to a knock on the door, you sighed as you got up to answer it, hoping that it would be Damian trying to apologize, as you reached the door and opened it you were met with alfred.

"I've brung you some cookies Mx.(Y/N)." He said as he held put a tray, you grabbed them out of his hands and muttered out a "thank you".

"I do not know what happened, but I am here if you need to talk." He told you, hoping that you weren't as emotionally constipated as the rest of this family, you observed the older man's face, looking for any sign to show that he was lying, but his face held sincerity.

"Damian-" you started, but ended up cutting yourself off. "-yelled at me, he's never done that before." You confessed in a whisper, a little embarrassed that this is what has gotten you so worked up. "Would you like me to talk to him?" The brit questioned, ready to stand up for you.

"No, it's okay Alfred." You rushed out, Damian should apologize on his own terms, once he realized what he did.

"Thanks for the cookies, Alfred." You sighed before whispering out a "goodnight" and closing the door.

~☆~

A week later and Damian has yet still not apologized, you had avoided him the entire week as well, and he didn't seem to care. Tim had come by to talk to Bruce and asked if you wanted to go hangout before he left, you told him no, the insecurity of being annoying clouding your mind. Bruce had even come up to your room, and explained that Damian was just "frustrated from working", Bruce even invited you to go out and eat with him like you did when you first arrived, you soon turned him down. Alfred too made attempts to spend time with you, inviting you to cook or garden with him, but all you wanted was to be with your brother.

~☆~

This went on for a whole month, you avoiding Damian, and him not even trying to apologize to you. You had eventually left your room to eat with the family again, and would sit in the library or garden reading a book. You had hoped that your mother would come back to you, and take you back home, praying that she had gotten her revenge for Ra's and killed Deathstroke already, you've waited, and waited, and waited, but she still hasn't come back yet, there was no trace of her. You weren't worried that anything had happened to her, she was the child of Ra's Al-Ghul, The Demons Head, he'd been alive for over 500 years, he trained your mother, of course she was fine, you just wished she would come and see you upset, and try to help.

~☆~

After a month and a half since you last talked to Damian, you walked down the dark stairs of the enormous Wayne Manor, heading towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, upon your arrival you grabbed a mug, then put a kettle on the stove. The kettle whistled to announce that the water was done boiling, you place a tea bag into your mug before pouring the water on top, you grabbed your personal likings of sugar and cream to put in it(im southern i literally only put sugar in mine.) , and grabbed a spoon to stir it all together. Once your tea was done you picked up your mug and made your way to the library, on your way there you passed the dining room and seen Alfred sitting with a man, he had black hair with a white streak in the front, a scar running across the side of his face, he was muscular, and wearing a black leather jacket, and black jeans, you caught sight of his eyes, something in them looked familiar, kind of like that mystical green hugh that the Lazarus pit gave your grandfather. Maybe you were going crazy, you've never seen this man in your life, you would know if he had access to the Lazarus pit, you shook your head to get rid of any curious thoughts you had, before glancing at the mysterious man one last time and heading to the library.

There will be a part two to this, maybe even a part three, I hope you enjoyed!

(Part two has been posted!)

[radiant-reid]

Angst/fluff blurb where Spence tells reader they need to take a break it shatters reader and it takes awhile for her to move on and when she finally does Spencer realizes that he made a giant mistake the ending is up to you AS always!! 💙

i just know too many people with this hairstyle that are dicks for him not to be a dick

When you first met him, you would not have labeled Spencer as closed off. He's intelligent, kind, and hilarious. Everything one could want in a boyfriend.

And, of course, he's totally obsessed with you.

He was open, too, more honest than you expected he would be after the years of trauma he'd been through. Getting to know him was like reading a book he was narrating.

But he's not now. He's so absent that when you're around him, in his apartment, all you feel is cold chilling you to your bones. "We need to talk about this." You tell him, waiting for him to sit down in front of him.

He's pacing, and it's annoying you. "We need a break." He says shortly, voice void of emotion.

"Sit down." You urge, your heart clenching painfully. Just those four words are enough to have tears developing in your eyes. "We can talk about whatever is bothering you."

There's been an issue for a few weeks that you've both been dancing around, but it's come to a head when he refused to speak to you on the jet home from your last case.

But you can't lose him. You're too in love with him.

"Please, Spence." You beg, quickly trying to wipe up your tears so you don't look weak.

He looks you up and down with nothing on his face again. "You should go."

No one had ever broken your heart that easily. He didn't even have to say anything hurtful, just a couple of detached sentences and emotionless looks.

So you take the tiny amount of self-respect you feel you have left and walk right out the door, not willing yourself to break down until you you're home and alone to bawl your eyes out.

You keep your knees tucked to your chest on the kitchen floor of your apartment, breathing so unevenly that you start hiccuping as you sob. You trusted him with everything about you because you knew there was no way he'd break you, but you ended up heartbroken.

Penelope knows something's wrong when you don't reply to her calls. She had been hoping Spencer wouldn't end things when it felt too difficult, but she found you heartbroken on the tiles, and she knew he fucked up.

You're not at work for a week after that, missing an entire case with a false claim of illness. Spencer knows something's wrong, and he ignores it, pushing it down like he does to all of the darkness inside him.

Your determination not to let him beat you is what forces you back with a smile on your face and a new haircut, cliche but you can't bring yourself to care.

Spencer's breathless when he sees you, and he knows he looks much worse with his messy hair, unshaven face, and sunken eyes. He doesn't look like he's slept in as long as you've been away.

'Fake it until you make it' is your strategy, and it works externally. To everyone, including Spencer, it looks like you're doing well. A month on, and you're getting set up with Morgan's friends. It's only casual, but it's giving the appearance you're getting back to your old self. As much as you still want Spencer, you can't have him, and as dumb as it seems, you figure pretending to be happy will eventually make you happy.

He knows it when you ask Rossi if you can bring someone to his house for family dinner, and that time he's crying to Penelope.

"You know, I'm actually mad at you." She tells him. "And I hate being mad at you because I hate being mad, but you have wronged that girl, caused her an indescribable amount of pain and broken her heart." It's not the comfort he's looking for, but he knows he doesn't deserve compassion. "You either need to make it right or leave her alone."

He's known that for a while, but hearing it actually compels him to do something. "Thank you." He says quietly, leaving her Batcave in a desperate search for you.

He finds you getting into the elevator, and walks in after you. It's just exactly what you don't want on a Friday afternoon, and you can't understand it when you're previous silent agreement has been to avoid each other.

You don't look at him, gulping as you stare at the floor. "Y/n." He says softly before clearing his throat. "Can we talk?"

Your eyes snap to his with anger. "Really? Now?" You ask furiously, letting out the irritation that had been simmering in you. "When I want to talk, you break up with me, and now you want to talk just because I'm finally happy."

"You're not." He says before he can help himself. "You don't smile properly anyone." He cuts himself off before he can ramble, knowing it will make the situation worse.

As soon as the elevator stops at the parking garage, you get out, trying to get away from him, but not before having the last word. "Just be my ex-boyfriend, not my friend."

He reaches out to grab your hand. "Please hear me out." He begs.

You wouldn't have if he wasn't close to crying, and honestly, you still care so much about him. "Fine." You say, spinning to face him and crossing your arms. If he wants to talk to you, you're not going to say anything.

"I'm terrified." He confesses, the most emotion you've seen on his face in months. "People leave me a lot. And I've learned it's easier to detach myself before I get hurt. I know- I know it's no excuse for hurting you. I desperately want to be with you, and I know it's irrational to think you'll leave me. I'm just... sorry, and I hope you can heal." When he realizes you might not say anything else, he turns to walk away.

This time, you stop him. "Spencer."

It sounds so beautiful coming from your lips, even if you're crying when he really doesn't want you to be. "Yeah?" He's hopeful, noticing the lighter color in your eyes.

"You're right." You tell him, only confusing him. "It's irrational to think I'd leave you. I know you think you're broken or that something's wrong with you, but you're not and there isn't. All I ever wanted was to show you that you're worthy of so much love."

Neither of you can keep the tears in, hearts both hurting for each other. "You did." He assures you. "And I'm eternally grateful. Thank you."

"Spencer, I'm not done." You tell him, turning his gloomy look into something more hopeful. "I want to show you that every day if you'll let me."

"Y/n." He says your name that time. "It's a privilege to be loved by you."

[aajjks]

reward!jungkook

you’re. SEETHING.

technically, you did your job. yours, jorja’s, and your boss caught jungkook in the same act all syelle’s other ex’s have committed. the marry syelle for the money, take her kindness for weakness, and then pick someone else over her. its been the same cycle over and over for over 3 years, so why is it that this same repeated cycle is different than the others?

jungkook should’ve been dead the moment he engaged with you but you wanted more and you got what you wanted.

you took and took and took until finally you were caught red-handed as planned but you grew jealous. the whole ‘my wife’ talk threw you for a loop because jungkook never talked about syelle with possessive terminology. it was always ‘her’ ‘she’ ‘his daughter’ never ‘my wife’ this and ‘my wife’ that.

is syelle forgetting that you fucked her husband more than once in the bed she laid her head in? probably, because no woman would take a used up man like jungkook. especially when they proudly admit to being in love for their mistress who doesn’t know whether to hate jungkook or hate syelle.

but what you can admit to is how PISSED you are to see syelle placing her hand on jungkook’s swollen face and caressing her thumb over his bruises.

clearly, she is giving him a second chance.

“absolutely not! are you hearing yourself, sy? look at me, sy, are the lights on upstairs? is this consensual? do you remember what he did to you?”

“i know, hoseok. i know, but i love him and we’re going to try and work it out between us”

hoseok is confused. if he had known syelle was going back to jungkook he would have never messed up his baby face but oh well. serves him right for breaking his friend’s heart and deliberately chasing a dream that would have never came true.

“you better call me if he breaks your heart again, alright?”

“i will. i will. thanks, hope”

“no problem”

“thanks jojo! see you guys later!”

with your bags loaded in the trunk of jungkook’s car, he opens the passenger door for syelle, gets in on the driver’s, and drives back home. he swears up and down that he’ll change, never cheat, and try to love you but what if…

once jungkook and sy arrive home, the first thing she does is head into the kitchen, grab a gel-fluid from inside the fridge, and instruct jungkook to ‘come here.’

“here” she says before popping the lid open, taking a scoop of her finger, and applying it to his bruises and swollen face. “this will help your face heal. it worked that one time i had hit my head on this huge machine at the hospital and left a knot but it healed in like 2 days thanks to this gel”

she’s so close to jungkook that it’s basically killing you to watch him pretend that he’s okay with this; that he’s happy. she could never make him happy like you can and to prove your point, you’re going to make their relationship a living hell.

It’s been a few days and his face is almost healed, He’s been so good to Syelle and she’s beginning to let her guard down, so to keep this process going, jungkook has decided to take his wife out on a date.

“Hey!!? Sy? I got tickets to see Dune 2- I know you love that pretty boy actor so why don’t we go and watch the movie?” He asks his wife who’s sitting on their new mattress bed- of course.

Jungkook has blocked your number and accounts so you don’t bother him anymore. And you really haven’t, good for him.

You’ve probably decided to move on and found some new dick to hop on. Jungkook looks at his wife and she smiles. “So is it a yes??” He asks like a child with hope.

He will make his marriage work. “And a week later we have dinner with my parents too.” He reminds her, oh his parents just adore their youngest daughter in law.

“Well then get ready soon- the shows tonight- i got us front seats babe.” He’s decided to completely dedicate himself to his wife age being faithful.

You were just a hiccup.

He’s starting to forget about you or how your touch felt.

And he knows that you have to- good for him.

You were a hard lesson for Jungkook that he will never forget.

[theatreslave]

I don't know why I'm writing this.

But I'm the lowest I've been in awhile.

I was alone at work yesterday, my boss out sick with her kid. Hours spent alone. Waiting on calls and emails. Sending messages on my phone to men on dating apps who don't care about me. Sending distant messages to my best friend a state over.

I realized that my phone, the contacts, are full of people who haven't spoken to me in days, weeks, months. some even years. Why do I keep their numbers? Maybe I hope one day they will remember me.

I went home and got dressed for the gym. But I didn't want to pretend to be ok around all those people. I also didn't want to be the fat girl crying at the gym. So I laid down on my living room floor and listened to the silence.

My parents were out, at a casino, for the 100th time it seemed. My mother still can't say no to my father. He throws away what little retirement money he has, complains about losing, and then expects me to help.

Neither of them know I had a different man in my bed last night. Someone they would never meet and someone I probably won't see again. They don't know that I don't know how to look for love without giving my body away. So many hands have touched this body but so few have meant it out of love. Maybe none.

I laid on that floor and felt my fingertips, palms, wrists, forearms, biceps, back, thighs, calves, feet and toes. But back to my wrists. My Wrists my wrists my wrists and I imagine how my mother's cutco knife would so easily slice through my skin and for a second I could feel it.

I wept, I curled into a ball on that floor and felt the loneliness bubble to the surface and drown me. I grasped at the floor for something to keep me here. My own breathing scared me. I had no one who would come running if I told them I needed them.

I told the boy I wished would talk more that it wouldn't be his fault when he finds out what happened to me. There was nothing wrong with him. He just wasn't giving enough to me. To someone who needed a stronger hand to keep me here.

My nose was stuffed shut and running. I couldn't see through my tears while I walked to my kitchen and pulled out the knife I had imagined. I looked at it's sharp edge and cried harder. I gripped it in a fist and before I could draw blood and threw it down on the counter and fell to my knees. In my mind I saw myself on the floor, surrounded by blood, and finally at rest.

But my grandma came out of here room and I rushed back into the living room and threw myself face down on my couch. I told her I was trying to nap when she asked. I got angry when she asked about the cats dinner, she had forgotten that she had watched me feed them an hour earlier. I cursed her silently for asking me if I wanted to heat up the rice for dinner.

When she shut herself behind her door I stood up again. I walked to the kitchen and took the knife with me to my bedroom. I laid in bed with it in my hands in the dark. I was sobbing. Loneliness must hurt worse than a knife piercing skin, I thought. It had to be. If I locked the door then my grandma wouldn't find me until maybe morning. My parents would probably assume I was asleep and not check until they don't hear me shuffling around for work in the morning.

I wonder how they would regret leaving me alone. I wonder how they would regret making me feel like a child. The sharp edge of the knife against my palm, nearly breaks skin and i drop it to the bed. I can't breathe through my nose again. So I drag myself out of my messy bed and sit at the dresser.

I turn on the vanity light and look into the eyes of my reflection. Eyes bloodshot and swollen and pathetic. I grab the thin brown tissues and try to free my airways. Still watching my sadness in bright light reflecting back at me.

Then I start to pick at all the scabs and pimples I can find on my face. I tear at the wart I've been trying to rid myself of for months. I try to make it hurt more than usual as I pull at my skin. Maybe this pain will be enough to not turn back to the knife. But I'm still crying. I'm angry now. Angry that I am still here when I had been talked out of ending it so many times.

I remember that my bestfriend told me that if I didn't call him before I killed myself he would haunt me in reverse. So I call him. I put the call on speaker and lay in darkness in my bed, gripping the knife handle. He answers and I don't speak. He asks again for me and I don't have the will to respond. He thinks the call is dropped or wrong. He hangs up and calls me. I answer on speaker again and I don't want to reply. But I do.

And I weep. I cry. I tell him how tired I am. I tell him I have a knife. I tell him I'm so tired of being alone. Of having no one. I'm so sad that he isn't even here to physically stop me. I tell him I called because he made me promise to call him before I do it. He tries to joke but I know he is scared. I lay the knife down but he still knows its there.

I don't remember what all we talked about. He tries to distract me with topics that are the opposite of detached and boring. He tries to get a rise out of me. He listens to me rid myself of the built up mess of my tears and my stuffed nose. He doesn't comment on it. He's heard me like this before. I know it scares him. He doesn't know how much I appreciate him for not leaving me. For not abandoning me.

It's dark outside and I haven't eaten since noon. I don't want to eat but he convinces me to order something even if I don't eat it. I tell him when my parents are gone I order using my mums card, like a little bit of payback for choosing a sin over being with me. But I don't blame them. Not really. I never know when days like this will come. I cannot warn them. I cannot beg for them to be there when I need them because I don't know when I will.

He stays on the line while I wait for my food. I had filled and emptied my door dash cart several times and decided on food that I wasn't really interested in. He hears me get up and I put the knife away. He still asks if I did or not. He knows I know how to lie.

But I'm good this time. I put it away. I sit on the couch, half listening to whatever he says while thinking about how disappointed I am that I'm not bleeding. The food arrives and he says goodbye. He tells me he appreciates me. He tells me he loves me. He tells me to text him when I wake up in the morning. I know he needs to know that I didn't change my mind when he hangs up.

The guy from earlier messages me and asks if I'm ok. Asks why I never mentioned my depression when we hung out. I tell him I don't feel it when I have someone with me. That I wanted him to be there but he's too distant. he says he cares and I don't believe him. No one has given me a reason to believe men who only text me when they want to see me.

I make myself eat the rolled tacos, covered in cheese and lettuce and meat and sour cream. I add the home made pico de gallo from my lunch that I never ate. I try to make myself feel better about all the calories now that I am ravenous. I eat it all. 5 tacos. They aren't that good. They are dry and I wish there was more meat. I wish I had bought something different. But I chose this because it was cheap even though I had made my mum pay for it.

I distract my eyes with a podcast that makes me laugh on my normal days. It keeps my attention enough to not aimlessly scroll on dating apps hoping for something and someone that won't come.

I feel sick. I feel too full. I make myself drink soda and water and not throw up. I change out of the gym clothes that didn't get to serve their purpose. My cats circle and I take them to the rooms they sleep in. I wash my face and make sure the water is cold. Hoping it will remind me what being alive feels like.

I hate myself for not showering like I planned. I feel like my hair is made of oil and my skin stinks. It probably doesn't but it's still another failure. I put on my cpap and lay in bed, window open, fan on, trying to find sleep. I toss and turn and feel like i'm being punished for letting myself feel this sad. I hear my parents come home. I can see the light in the hallway illuminate the outline of my door.

I wonder if I locked it. I wonder if my parents will check on me. Their grown but still a child daughter. They don't. They go to bed and don't bother. They trust me more than they should.

Now I know that they wouldn't have found me until the next morning. It is not comforting. I am uncomfortable and feel like my skin is too warm. I want to sleep. I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. I wish someone would hold me here. Hold me so I don't try to disappear.

I count fingers. I count sheep. I feel how crooked my shoulders are. I feel how dry my feet are. My cat swats at my ankles when I get too close. God please let me sleep. I don't know when I stopped counting.

I woke up late this morning. I made myself shower, hoping I will feel alive enough to not cry in front of my parents. They don't notice that I am more quiet than usual.

Now I'm here. 'working' my head has been pounding and I know I'm dehydrated. But spelling this all out is all I can think about. I hope it will make me feel better. But i'm aware I'm skipping lunch. I should eat. I live from meal to meal it seems.

I don't know why I'm still here.

I want to disappear.

I already don't exist.

I want it all to end.

But I have a kindle coming in the mail today.

I should use it at least before I go.

[sharksa-shivers]

Max's first day at The Campsite! 💜🐶💜(Max's past)

Max when he first goes to the Campsite is: *7/8/9 (Need to nail down the age storywise but in that range as is the other Campsiter kids) *kind of scared *fucking filthy and his fur is a long overgrown mess, he's got mattes, he has fleas and he's just in poor shape in that regard, just in bad condition hygiene wise all around *starving and wanting water *quite and nervous, he has no idea what to expect at all…

Amber tells Sharky to wait and play with Sharketa and Lady for a bit while she helps Max and talks with The Captain. Amber goes to The Captain first with Max and upon talking, they agree to let Max stay and live there, finding it to be the best option for a young homeless child. Max kind of sits there a moment, not really understanding and simultaneously the gravity of having a home both hitting him at once, kind of breaking down a bit in joy/confusion. Amber comforts him and tells him he's safe now but if he's gonna live with them that he needs to clean himself up a bit. Amber gives Max some flea killing shampoo, soap and a towel and guides him to a shower, telling Max to get her when he's done. Max does this and Amber helps dry him off and now has some scissors and plans to help clean his fur up a bit, trimming his head, arms, legs, helping make his fur shorter and much more manageable, taking the mattes out and brushing Max's fur along with cutting it, both of them talking a bit while Amber works. A while later, Max feels alot better and looks better, his floof finally reappearing after so long of being a scruffy ass. Max also perks up a bit after this, beginning to grow a kind of bond with Amber.

Max reunites with Sharky after this as Amber goes off to make dinner for everyone as per usual. Max also meets Sharketa and Lady around this time as well, both of them being kind with Max. Sharky, Sharketa and Lady show Max around and Max decides he wants to share a room with Sharky, obviously still being very anxious and nervous about everything. In beginning parts as a kid, Max looks to Sharky alot for guidance since Max has 0 clue about how this "living in a house shit works" and Sharky is happy to help with this, Sharky's kind nature showing through.

After a bit, Amber gets them to all come down for food and Max kind of just is still bewildered by all of this, still thinking that this might have the chance of being taken away somehow (Max's internal lack of trust which he does still kind of have to this day, that something could always happen and shit could go ary) along with Max just being starving in general leads him to just fucking destroy the food he's been given. Amber's a bit taken aback by this and offers to give Max more to which he immediately agrees. Max ends up plowing through like 7 or 8 plates of food before Amber force cuts him off, being scared that Max is gonna get sick (despite Max telling her he's still hungry and that he wants more) Sharky, Lady and Sharketa are all kind of shocked by Max's appetite too but they find it more cool a small kid like Max was able to do that(context of Max's situation aside. This is obviously different in current days, Sharky, Kristy and usually the bulk of The Campsite get kind of frustrated with Max since Max will fucking clean out a kitchen and take their food without regret or remorse quite alot of the time though Campsiters are very used to this, rip)

Amber encourages Max to go play with Sharky, Lady and Sharketa again and Max does until Amber tells them it's time to go to sleep. Sharketa at this point has her own room while Max does get his wish and gets to share a room with Sharky. Sharky finds this cool as hell, thinking of it as a slumber party of sorts and Max has zero clue what the fuck a slumber party is lmao. Sharky tells Max not to worry about that and that he can show Max what that is up until Amber tells them both "No, go to bed lol." Sharky "agrees" to this and pretends to go to sleep but when Amber leaves, him and Max start talking more, Sharky wanting to teach Max all sorts of stuff, showing Max different books and toys and things like that he has and Max being insanely fascinated with alot of it.

With this whole thing and up to this day in current series, Sharky finds himself a new friend and recognizes the possibility of making more friends with outsiders that won't judge him for him and will like him for who he is. He finds a friend who will stick up for him in future situations, a friend who thinks he's cool and smart and fun. Sharky finds himself a best friend, a brother and an ally…

Max on the other hand finds himself in a stable situation for the first time ever. (i wouldn't say the time with Megan was stable, Megan and Max were constantly moving around and constantly had to look for food, water, money, ect. They did not have a solid situation) Max finds himself in a home, with new friends and new family, where it's warm from the cold and cool from the heat, where he has food, drinks, a way to practice better hygiene, a nice place to sleep (though for his first few nights, he does have to sleep on the floor while Amber badgers Orange Hair into building another bed lmao) Max finds himself comfort and security and stability…And vows to himself to keep all of it with everything he can, not wanting to lose it all… Extra notes: *Orange Hair and Max probably meet the next day or day after, probably also meets Purple Fin either later in the day or the next day and same with Pink Fin, all of them being busy that day.

*Sharketa becomes The Captain's assistant at a young age but i may bump that age up to a diff one, not sure but regardless as a kid, Sharketa shows interest in helping The Captain and helping The Campsite.

Who is Megan tho? --- Sooooooo…I mentioned before I'm pretty sure that Max has a very very strong hate for shadowdemons/the shadowcult…Nows where thatttttttt hate source would come up… So Megan was also a homeless girl for a bit but she was a good bit older then Max (like 17/18 while…Max was a kid…) Megan was like…The very very first motherly figure Max had…And Megan cared for Max a ton…Trying to keep them both safe and trying to essentially take Max under her own wing because…Well, she liked kids and she felt like it was alot better then leaving this kid she found alone to fend for himself…

Max and Megan were together and whatnot for a while up untilllllllll…Shadowdemons happened…They'd encountered them before but…This time was different…Alot different…Because this time, they didn't get away cleanly… The Shadowdemons killed Megan and the only way Max lived was because she hid him away whenever it happened…

This all happened beforehand but it's part of why Max has such a goddamn hateful vendetta against the shadowcult…To where he wanted to be a demon fighter as soon as he found out that was an option…It's why he's so violent towards the shadowcult…Cuz if you give them that inch, they'll take everything and Max already has lost enough…He's not losing anybody else he cares about if he can help it… It's a very very very sore subject for Max whenever it is brought up and he'll get very angry if it's brought up randomly too…So…Yeahhhhhhh It's noted too, Max was even more bittered and pissed after Purple Fin went missing, Max assuming shadowcult got her and killed her too...And Max was very close to Purple Fin whenever she was around. It's unknown if this is true or not but alot of Campsiters have their suspicions... Max is also known to go goddamn feral if somebody tries to tell him Megan "wasn't your mom" anddddd...I mean, like...Max in general is the kind of hornets nest person you don't want to kick because you'd be paying dearly for that so uhhhhh yknow...

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Rage Fire Institution

Accelerating. 30.

“Look at him, walking back in as if he didn’t abandon us all yesterday. And where do you think you were?”

Placing down his lunch tray, Maki smiled at his friends. Fleur, Li, and Silva, all sitting together waiting for him. The feeling was warm

“Hey, guys. I promise I had a good reason”

Grabbing Silva by the shoulder, Li shook him

“Silva, he’s smiling. Maki’s smiling. I’m not imagining this right?”

Silva pretended to put a stern face on, voice betraying nothing

“I do believe you are correct. Our scowling friend does appear to be wearing a smile”

“Do we think he got laid? Is that what we think happened?”

Silva stroked his imaginary beard

“There may be a chance. He does seem in a particularly good mood for a man who skipped a day of classes”

Rolling his eyes, Maki sat. His friend’s were idiots and wildly off the mark. But they were his friends. He’d held back telling Li because he wanted to tell his best friend face to face, yet thanks to their teasing, he wanted to draw it out now

“You’re wrong. I can smile, you know”

Li hummed

“Okay, not sexy times. Oh! Did you get asked out?! Dude! Who is she? Do I know her?”

Maki gave a shrug

“Who says it’s a girl?”

Li shot up, slamming him hands down on the table. He would have yelled something silly if Fleur hadn’t pulled him back down

“Stop that. People are staring”

Li cast a look around, changing tactic as he reached out and took Maki’s hands in his

“His name? Tell me his name!?”

Maki couldn’t help but chuckle. Li was so excited for him that he nearly felt bad

“I admit I did spend a day with someone. And something did happen… I mean, it was going to happen, it was the next logical step… I was exhausted by the end of it, but it was amazing…”

Li’s eyes couldn’t go wider

“OhMyGosh! You have to tell me everything! Look at you go, you alpha stud! That’s my best friend! Who is… OhMyGod, did you hook up with the Professor?!”

Maki choked on air. Him and the Professor? He’d pay to see how Li’s mind had come to that conclusion. Li slumping back in his chair with wide eyes and shock on his face. Fleur, on the other hand, frowned heavily

“Really? You and him? I mean, he was babysitter… I didn’t think you were that kinky”

Silva didn’t help

“They have been spending most of their time together. He’s always talking about him”

Fleur nodded

“If I’m honest, I got a little horny when the babysitter was talking about that mech”

This was too much. Maki blinking. Fleur being horny was none of their business and he didn’t need to think about it, plus Tatsumi would be sad that his lecture had only been received by a class of horny pilots

“Okay. Don’t talk about him that way, he’s my friend. And secondly, I did spend the day with him. With Tatsumi. I finally got to pilot my Erebus for the first time”

Maki felt so damn proud of himself all over again. When Li didn’t say anything, Silva waved his hand in front of their friend’s face

“I think you broke him”

Maki’s happiness was fading. He expected Li to be yelling over it

“Li?”

Li blinked half a dozen times, pulling himself together, his words slow

“You piloted your Erebus?”

“Yes”

Li repeated his words just as slowly

“You piloted your Erebus?”

“Yes”

Maki’s happiness came surging back, Li finally yelling

“You piloted your Erebus and you’re only telling us now?! Maki!”

Laughing at his friend, Li’s happiness was everything Maki had hoped. He wanted to gush about it, but he didn’t want to completely break his best friend

“Yes. It was so hard. I felt like I’d run the track all day by the end of it, but it was a successful boot”

“We have to celebrate, right guys”

Li looked to Silva and Fleur, both nodding quickly, Silva agreeing

“This is definitely cause for celebration. Why didn’t you call us last night? We would have had a party”

“Because Tatsumi took me back to his and made dinner. We didn’t get back until late”

When all three of his friends stared hard at him, he realised what he’d said. Maki nervously bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head

“Not like that. It was a congratulatory dinner with his mother. He sprung it on me”

Li crossed his arms and slouched back, gesturing with his hand

“Look at him, he pilots an Erebus and suddenly he gets a home cooked meal. He’s too good for us now”

Maki took it the wrong way. He felt guilty about not having Li there last night as it was

“Wait…”

“Why would we wait? You’re leaving us behind. You and Tatsumi don’t need us holding you back”

This… this wasn’t how it was meant to go

“No. You’ve got the wrong idea…”

Li cut him off

“Did you see his bedroom? How big was his bed? What did he cook you for dinner?”

“C-cola chicken… and so what? I didn’t know he’d make me dinner, he said he had someone he wanted me to meet with”

“He’s bringing you home to meet his mother. Must be serious”

“He’s a friend. You know he’s helping me out. Why are you being like this? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Li’s expression changed. Maki was furious. He didn’t get why he was being attacked over spending time with Tatsumi. He was Li’s friend too. Tatsumi wasn’t there to defend himself either. They’d done nothing and even if they had, that was between them

“Man, chill. I’m messing with you for not telling us right away. And for having a celebration party without us”

So it was all a big joke to Li? The young alpha felt wounded. Li normally wasn’t the type to bring someone down, nor did he get why the idea of him and Tatsumi hanging out together was a joke. Tatsumi was flawed as anyone else, and he didn’t deserve to be turned into a joke for the amusement of their friends

“That’s because it was Tatsumi’s idea. At least he didn’t make jokes about it. I was so excited to tell you in person I made myself wait until I could tell you what it was like in person. Forget it, I’m heading to my next class”

Grabbing his bag, Maki strode off. Li tried calling out after him, but Maki ignored him. He wasn’t trying to leave his best friend behind. It wasn’t his fault Tatsumi chose him. It felt like the universe was laughing at him for being so proud of himself and wanting to boast about it.

***

Having stormed off to wait for his next class, Li found him standing in front to bio-engineering classroom. Maki turning his back as his friend approached. He didn’t want to fight with Li.

“Maki? Come on, man. I’m sorry. I went too far”

Frosting out his best friend, Maki opened his comms. Li trying again

“Come on, you know I was joking. I didn’t mean any of it. Tell me what it was like to pilot an Erebus, please? I was only kidding about you and Tatsumi…”

Tatsumi would be in their class and he’d know straight away that the pair of them had fought. For Tatsumi’s sake, Maki supposed he had to make up with Li. Turning to face his friend, Li kind of looked genuinely sorry

“Maki? Why won’t you say something?”

“Because I’m thinking of how to say it. I was so excited to tell you”

Li sighed

“And I ruined it”

“Yeah… Tatsumi’s not even here to defend himself. I know you’re mad at me, but that doesn’t give you the right to go after him too. He’s got a lot going on”

Li hung his head

“It’s just… I wanted to tease you because you’re spending so much time with him. It kind of hurt you didn’t tell me straight away”

“I told you I wanted to do it in person”

“You could have found me before school”

The alpha sighed at his best friend. Before school wouldn’t have been any good. Li always took his time to look his best, and Maki liked to leave for class at the last possible moment to avoid everyone else

“I wanted time to answer all your questions without worrying about the bell”

“You could have messaged me”

“I could have, but I wanted to tell my best friend in person. I was really excited about it. I felt bad you weren’t there last night… you’re my best friend. I know I’m busier but I still want you to know when something good happens”

Li combed his hair back with his fingers, before raising his head and giving Maki a thumbs up

“You recognised how lonely you are without Li here. I will give you a pass”

“Thank you. Still, no more about Tatsumi. Like seriously, I don’t know how you got to thinking we’d be like that. He’s only training me”

“It’s not my fault. Everyone’s talking about him and you, and you two are so tight that it’d make sense”

“I’m not seeing it”

“He took you to his home. He showed you his bedroom… you were all smiles”

Li’s logic was deeply flawed, Maki correcting him

“Idiot, I was smiling because I knew you’d be excited. I thought you’d get all excited and demand to know everything. That’s why I was smiling like that”

Li came at him, Maki unable to escape before being hugged

“Aw, bring it in, big guy. I’m sorry I went too far. It’s boring without you”

Awkwardly hugging Li back, Maki patted his back

“There, there. You still have Yon”

His best friend went rigid in his arms. Maki confused

“Li, you still have Yon, don’t you?”

Releasing him, Li looked down to the floor, Maki releasing his friend so it didn’t look weird if they were caught

“She dumped me. She wanted me to come to this party at some club but I said I can’t sneak out. It’s not like I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to sneak out on my own”

“You could have asked me”

“I thought about it, then I thought to myself if she is going to dump me over it then maybe Kang Li is too good for her. I’m not going to start skipping school and that to make her happy… and if I gave in once then she’d think that I will all the time. I’m so hot that I won’t be single for long”

Li gave Maki a wobbly smile. Maki seriously impressed his friend stood up for himself and put himself first

“You did the right thing. You’re already a good person and if she can’t see that then that’s her loss”

“I know… but it still sucks”

Li fell in love too easy. Maki had never been in love and didn’t recognise the signs or symptoms when people weren’t as obvious about it as Li was

“I think I know how to help. What do you say we change this green hair of yours? Any colour you want, we’ll do it”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I’m going to be even busier soon, but I’m never too busy for my best friend. This is a limited time offer…”

“No! No, I’m in! I’m so in! What colour should I go? I don’t think I’m a green person”

“You’re not, but it could be worse. I’ll buy the dye after class”

“It’s my hair, I’ll pay”

“It was my idea, I’m paying. Besides, it’s faster if I go”

“But won’t you get in trouble?”

“Who’s getting in trouble?”

Both Maki and Li jumped as Tatsumi’s voice came from behind them. Tatsumi standing there with a frown on his face. Li jumping to his defence

“Me, I want to change my hair colour and I don’t want Maki getting in trouble if he helps”

“Ah, do you guys want to use a lab room? As long as you don’t make a mess it’s not a big deal”

After how Li acted, Maki decided not to join in the conversation. He didn’t like being mad at Li, but Tatsumi was so clueless over it all. Li nodding

“That’d be great. Hey, Professor, is it true Maki piloted an Erebus?”

“He sure did. He was excited as anything over it too. I’m glad he told you, I think he wanted to straight away”

It was painful watching the way Li’s shoulders slumped. Maki wavering slightly before scolding himself. Li’s joke had been wrong and should have been left unsaid, but he had come to apologise straight away and he had broken up with Yon

“Tatsumi’s right, I did. I wish you’d been at dinner”

Tatsumi smiled, Maki not expecting to be teased

“There’s always next time. Did he tell you how good he was in my bed? And he totally charmed my mother”

Li’s eyes widened, Maki elbowing Tatsumi, hissing

“You don’t have to say it that way”

“I know, but it’s true. I left him for a moment and he totally passed out”

Li sidestepped Maki, latching onto Tatsumi’s arm. His friend fluttering his eyelashes as he looked up to Tatsumi

“You have to tell me everything. I was joking about it before and made him mad, but now I neeeeeed to know”

“There’s not a lot to tell… You know what Maki’s like, oblivious”

“He is, isn’t he! You like him, don’t you, Professor?”

Tatsumi pretended to think as he hummed then clicked his fingers. Gracefully he reach up, cupping Li’s cheek before smiling as he slid his hand up to tuck hair behind Li’s right ear

“I do. A whole lot. And I like you a whole lot too. You’re really quite handsome, Mister Kang. Your eyes sparkle under this light”

Li seemed taken back, elated, then clicked, all in a single moment. Maki covering his smile with his hand

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Yep, it’s no fun is it? Let’s leave rumours to those less educated. We’re all friends here”

Li slumped as Tatsumi removed his hand

“I understand, Professor. I won’t get caught up in daydreams again”

“Good. It’s a little early but I’ve got the key, let’s head in”

***

Tatsumi uninvited himself to the dying of Li’s hair. Li inviting him during their class together, and Tatsumi uninviting himself once class was over and he’d cleared use of a room with Poaw. He didn’t know what happened, yet Maki and Li needed to work it out together.

Working on his own homework, Tatsumi was half keep an eye on his classmates. He could have used the research wing in privacy, but the library was nicer. Sure, it made it harder to stay focused as he wondered what was going through the minds of so many educated people around him, yet he also didn’t want to be alone. He’d hid it well from Maki, but their foot race had worn him out. He’d woken feeling drained and with a heaviness in his body that wouldn’t leave. Piloting may be not come as easy as it had before, though that didn’t mean he was ready to give up, and it frustrated him that he’d be so weakened after one damn race.

“Hikaru?”

Jolting slightly at his name, Tatsumi looked up and then looked down, he’d spilled his coffee without realising it. His left arm had felt especially weak, and he couldn’t remember reaching for his drink

“Ah, shit”

His classmate snorted. An older beta who was doing her thesis in pilot fatigue within the education system. Tatsumi remembered being interviewed by at some point yet her name escaped him. Reaching into her back, she fished out a handful of napkins. Tatsumi took them gratefully

“Here, they always give me too many”

“Thank you. I normally grab some but today would be the day I seem to have forgotten”

“You have seemed off with your focus”

As the omega wiped up his coffee, he realised a couple more of his classmates were paying attention. Releasing a returned pilot with no public history didn’t always go well, yet he’d always been friendly towards his classmates. He had to choose his words or risk being further gossip. Most already knew in someway he was sickly from his tinted glasses

“There simply aren’t as many hours in a day as there needs to be, and these student projects are more than enough to keep a man’s mind preoccupied”

The beta gave a strained smile, it wasn’t the answer she seemed to hope to illicit from him

“I’m sure this comes as no surprise, but we are told to rest for a reason”

Ah. She was prying for another angle from him for her research. He should have known from the start that her prying into his coffee came from her analysis of his study method

“I’ll rest once my work is done for the day. A few hours missed sleep affects everyone differently”

“So you’d say you feel the rest time provided would be seen as an inadequate rest time?”

“The rest time provided would be adequate provided there weren’t external factors affecting it. In this case, it’s the completion of work load versus the preparation of a whole school team. Individual pride would dictate self priorities come first, yet with age comes the knowledge of placing a groups need over one’s self. In this case it is better to focus on improvements one may offer to the group as the school reputation triumphs one man’s need for sleep”

The beta looked annoyed. Tatsumi didn’t see why when she’d started it. He’d merely offered his opinion. He wouldn’t decrease his work load simply due to his health when he had promises to keep to himself and to his team. Gathering the mess he’d made, he piled it together for easy disposal then turned his attention back to his data pad to signal that the show was over. His workload varied, as did everyone else’s, a few months of hard work would all be worth it to see Maki on the competition field in a mech made by their group.

Tatsumi knew where his priorities lay, which couldn’t be said for those with enough time on their hands to waste it watching him. In just a few more days their mods would ready for fitting and testing. If he could get all his word done before then, then he’d have the time he wanted to take for Maki’s training… and he really needed to make more time for Stella and Anthony. Exiting his work, Tatsumi opened up his calendar, all thoughts of work and promises driven from his mind as he noticed the approaching date.

[alchemistc]

Eddie's crush on Steve Harrington takes a strange turn when Harrington shows up at school two weeks before Thanksgiving of '84 and refuses to take off his sunglasses until his English teacher threatens to send him to the office - Eddie catches sight of the purple and yellow bruises and Steve spends twenty minutes feeling woozy and then ends up running to the bathroom to throw up because concussions are a bitch.

Eddie, like an idiot, chases after him. Spends half a minute listening to Steve retch and then crawls under the locked stall door to Steve's confused protest and leans against the stall with Steve's hair gathered in one hand until Steve is done puking.

"Hell of a hangover, Harrington," Eddie says to lighten the mood, knowing full well that's not it, and Steve thinks about pressing his face into the cool toilet, doesn't because this is a fucking boys high school bathroom.

"Billy Hargrove knocked my brain around," Steve says, wincing, and Eddie pushes the sunglasses he'd snaked off Steve's desk back on his face.

Eddie smokes him out behind the football fields at lunch and when Steve tries to pay him for the weed Eddie patently ignores the offer - uncaps a pen from his jacket pocket and scrawls his phone number across Steve's forearm and tells him to call if wants to hang out.

"What if I just want weed?"

"My business hours are ten to seven."

Steve calls him two nights later at half past seven and Eddie is Very Cool about it. (He's so not cool about it, he dances around the living room for a full five minutes and is thankful Wayne isn't around to see it.)

They spark up the strangest friendship either one of them have ever had but the moment Eddie realizes he actually genuinely likes Steve as a person he shoves that crush way down deep because Harrington is a genuinely cool dude and Eddie's fucked up friendships misreading the situation before.

----

Gareth fucking hates Steve Harrington.

He comes back from winter break to find Steve Harrington sitting next to Eddie at lunch, keeps his cool until Harrington leaves for gym class and then pitches a whole ass fit but it's too late because Eddie had introduced Steve to the band and a few of the Hellfire club during the break while Gareth was stuck in Mishawaka with his super religious bigot aunt and uncle and all of them grudgingly LIKE Harrington.

Jeff shrugs when Gareth tries to gather up some support. "He made us hot chocolate after band practice because the garage was cold. He charmed my mom into forgetting she hates Eddie."

Paul's zero help, because when Tommy Hagan ran into them at the diner a week into winter break and tried to start shit Harrington had threatened to rearrange Tommy's face and Tommy hasn't looked twice at them since.

The Hellfire club thinks he's adorable because he doesn't know what a kobold is and the thought of a twenty sided die makes him scrunch his nose up like he's in physical pain having the think about it and for some fucking reason they all find that sort of stupidity charming.

Eddie is a nonstarter - one bad word against him and he ices Gareth out for a week.

The third time Harrington almost freezes to death sitting in Gareth's garage while the band practices, he offers up his own garage (It's heated, because of fucking course it is, and he has the decency to pretend to be embarrassed at how fucking rich he is) and then cooks them dinner afterwards like some fifties housewife and actually, fuck everything, Harrington is an alright dude but Gareth doesn't have to LIKE him.

---

Jeff finally has someone to talk to about baseball - Harrington never played but he's a Cubs fan and when Jeff laughs about that for a full twenty minutes Steve has to explain The Curse, and if Eddie gets a gleam in his eye about the masochism of choosing a team destined to lose then Jeff isn't gonna say a word about it. Not his business, and he's not gonna step in shit just because Steve doesn't actually seem opposed to the outrageous fucking flirt Eddie is around him.

He loves his friends, would do pretty much anything for them, but they're all so enamored with the idea of being outcasts that all his mainstream interests get shoved aside and Steve is so goddamn mainstream he's actually not sure how Eddie befriended him but he's not gonna complain about it.

When it becomes clear, sometime around April, that Eddie is probably gonna fail (again) Steve gets a bug up his ass about it and suddenly Nancy fucking Wheeler is spending three nights a week at Eddie's. It'd be sweet, if it didn't cut into band practice, but the first time Jeff bangs on the trailer door to bitch about Eddie missing it again, Steve throws the door open and invites him in to watch the show - Eddie looks like he's about five minutes away from shaking little Nancy until her head pops off, and she looks like she'd like to strangle him right back, and they're arguing about concepts Jeff can't wrap his head around but the fact that Eddie knows his shit and just doesn't apply himself isn't new to Jeff but it clearly is to Wheeler.

When she finally leaves (only after watching Eddie painstakingly write out a scribbled mess of a paper for English class, checking on his progress every twenty minutes or so to his absolute mortification) Steve hands Eddie a beer and Eddie stares at a wall for ten minutes.

"Your ex is scary," Eddie finally mutters, and when he halfheartedly stuffs the finished essay into his bag Steve takes the time to reorganize it in a way that Jeff thinks might actually remind Eddie to turn the fucking thing in.

Jeff doesn't mention that he thinks it's kind of weird to be friends with your ex-girlfriend, especially when the rumor mill is pretty adamant that this particular ex cheated on Harrington.

"I'll make sure to write out a thank you note when you graduate because of her."

They're halfway through a movie when Gareth calls, Steve and Eddie arguing over some piece of trivia about the production team that Steve knows he's wrong about but refuses to give up the fight over, and Jeff feels a little shitty about forgetting the reason he came over in the first place.

They're interesting, is the thing. Jeff likes hanging out with them just to watch the juxtaposition of two guys so startlingly different from each other. And maybe he's a little invested in the will-they-won't-they of it all - because he'd been the first one Eddie had introduced to Steve in the nebulous time between whenever the fuck they'd started hanging out and when Eddie had decided not to keep him some dirty little secret - because he'd sort of just trusted Eddie not to be an idiot about it, and if he thought Harrington was important enough to bring into the fold than who the hell was Jeff to deny that - because Harrington is shockingly loyal and steadfast and Jeff thinks he's probably about a month off from a realization about himself he's probably not fully prepared for.

Jeff's gay uncle is the loneliest dude he's ever known and he'd always figured that was just how it was to be gay but there's shit brewing between Steve and Eddie that Eddie refuses to acknowledge and Steve hasn't noticed yet and there's probably gonna be some drama when it all comes to a head but Jeff knows Steve's gonna need someone other than Eddie to talk about it. So.

---

Steve invites himself into Gareth's the moment he opens the door. Just presses past him and lays himself out on the couch in the living room, and he knows Gareth isn't his biggest fan but that's sort of why he'd come here first. If anyone was gonna give him the absolute truth it's gonna be Gareth.

The thing is, he's been cruising along since November, barely passing his own classes, enjoying having friends who aren't pieces of shit, enjoying getting close to Eddie, ignoring that voice in the back of his head that still lingers in the feel of Eddie's fingers in his hair while he was puking his guts out on the cold bathroom floor, and the ignoring is getting harder and harder because Eddie's naturally a touchy feely person and Steve isn't used to that shit from anyone. The thing is he's pretty sure Eddie telling him he's gay, admitting it like some dark confession with wide eyes and a lick of fear crowding his features - Eddie telling him that shouldn't put him on edge like this, shouldn't make him so fucking angry, because he's trying, alright, he's trying to be, like, a better person and he's pretty sure he'd reacted okay because Eddie hadn't bolted but he's - he's upset about it and Gareth and Jeff are the only ones he's sure already know and he needs some fucking clarity.

Gareth will give it to him straight.

He's on a roll - pacing and gesturing and trying to work his way through all the shit in his head, the idea he's got of Eddie telling him because he's into someone and Steve's gonna end up in the back burner, or third wheeling, or fully fucking forgotten when he's had all of Eddie's attention for the last six months. "It's, like – I'm mad about it. Or. Like. Not mad, I just. The thought of having to see him happy with someone el–."

And. Huh.

"Dude," Gareth says, and Steve feels the laughter breaking loose - the ridiculousness of this moment, of choosing Gareth of all fucking people, the one person he hasn't won over despite his best attempts to not be a total dickhead. Steve fully fucking loses it, flopping onto Gareth's couch, laughing himself hoarse while Gareth stares at him like he's grown a second head, only sobering when Gareth sits himself down on the edge Steve isn't occupying.

"Shit, man," Steve says. "What do I do?" Because he can't lose Eddie, right? Other than Eddie he's got a gaggle of middle schoolers for friends and if things sour with Eddie it's not like Jeff or Paul or any of the others is going to choose Steve.

"Did you mean to come out to me right there, or was that an accident?"

"I literally didn't know until just then."

Gareth's been called some version of a homophobic slur enough times to know it sucks even if it's not true, and he's met Jeff's uncle a few times, seen the pain he carries, has always been terrified of Eddie losing his sparkle to a cruel world, and maybe he's never quite trusted Steve Harrington but clearly Harrington trusts him, which is.

"Eddie's had a crush on you for years, man, why do you think he wanted to be friends with you in the first place?"

"Fuck off," Steve says, and he looks a little miserable about it like he thinks this is some cosmic joke Gareth's cooked up.

"You should probably, like, take some time. Think about it. Make sure you're prepared for how much people fucking suck and decide if whatever you're feeling right now is worth the hassle."

"Eddie's not a hassle," Steve says, and Gareth decides right then and there that Harrington? Actually a good dude.

---

Steve throws a graduation party. It's a smaller affair than he would have had a year ago, more laid back, but a surprising amount of people actually show up - all of Hellfire, even the you freshman who Steve expressly forbids from the punch bowl that's mostly vodka (a few of them sneak a taste and Harrington berates them comically, hands on his hips and looking every inch a harried mother as they slink off towards his pool with the solo cups of water he replaces their punch with).

Nancy shows, even brings Jonathan, and Steve pretends it's not awkward, makes a joke about Nancy avoiding the punch that lands better than he expected and when Nancy slings both arms around Eddie and congratulates him, Jonathan and Steve take a moment to watch the pair.

They've had a few awkward moments in the halls, and a few more any time they happen to be bringing their respective heathens around to the Wheelers at the same time, but Steve had given NancyandJonathan the green light as best he could and he genuinely wants them to do well even if it had fucking sucked at the time to realize he'd felt way more for Nancy than she'd felt for him.

When Eddie and Nancy break the hug they start an argument that will last at least an hour if no one puts a stop to it, so Steve shows Jonathan to the liquor cabinet to make better drinks ("Wasn't kidding about the punch, man," Steve says and Jonathan's smile is almost warm.) and he beelines it out to the poolside where Nancy has her nose scrunched and Eddie is gesturing with both arms flailing in the air.

He has a fucking type.

When the younger kids finally leave and the group dwindles, Jeff and Gareth bemoan who the fuck is gonna run Hellfire now and Jonathan and Steve both throw a name into the hat - and Eddie's only met the kids that seem to hero worship Steve a few times but he tells Jeff to be in the lookout for them and proceeds to chug a full cup of punch. Grimaces once he's done, and Steve shoots Gareth a frown because - because they'd come up with a plan, sort of, and this party was mostly for Eddie even if Steve had graduated too but he hadn't planned on Eddie getting wasted.

"Don't see why you can't still go through with it," Gareth says under his breath while Jonathan and Eddie are getting high next to the pool, and Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to remind himself that Gareth, for all that he's the closest thing Steve has to a confidante outside of Eddie, has been on one date in his entire life.

"I'm not gonna tell him I'm in fucking love with him when he might be too drunk to goddamn remember it," he tells Gareth and Gareth's eyes go a bit wide because - whoops, Steve hasn't actually said that before.

"You -."

"New plan," Steve interrupts before Gareth can call him out on it. "I'm gonna drink the rest of that punch and forget we ever even made a plan."

Gareth recruits Jeff to talk him down from that.

---

Steve gets a card from his parents for graduation and a week later he gets a call from his father telling him it's time for him to man up and make his own way in the world.

At least, that's what Eddie had gleaned from the conversation they'd had on his front stoop two days before graduation.

He wakes up from a night of getting absolutely blitzed to his face plastered against one of the soft pillows from Steve's bed and spends a good thirty minutes staring at the plaid wallpaper before he finally manages to turn over to find the glass of water and the bottle of Tylenol on the bedside table. By the time he finally manages to make it down the stairs the rest of the overnighters were already stirring, and Steve is making waffles and talking to Nancy in a quiet voice.

"...didn't even get into Tech. He's just trying to prove a point, because he hates having a screwup for a son."

"Did you even apply to Tech?" Nancy asks, and Steve shoots her a look over his shoulder. The answer is no, and Eddie knows that because these are the kinds of conversations he has with Steve, the same soft voices and then same knowing looks and Eddie watches them for a moment with something burgeoning on understanding.

The moment is broken when Gareth rolls past Eddie into the kitchen and does a double take.

"Nice sweatshirt," he says, and he wiggles his eyebrows like that's supposed to mean something - but Eddie hadn't even realized he wasn't wearing the same thing he'd come in until Gareth pointed it out.

It's Steve's - and Eddie hadn't paid it much mind when he woke up because he'd woken up in Steve's fucking bed but it smells like him - some sort of sports related monstrosity with green and orange accents and when Jeff claps him on the back and says the same fucking thing Eddie watches Steve's face go pink.

He's annoyingly cute, and Eddie shoves that thought down because in a moment of weakness he'd allowed himself to compare his relationship with Steve to Nancy fucking Wheelers relationship with Steve and - and it's a fucking sweatshirt, and Eddie vaguely remembers spilling punch on his own shirt, and Steve bundling him up the stairs and tossing a change of clothes at him, remembers splaying himself out on Steve's bed once he'd changed, and then nothing. He'd had a fucking lot to drink.

Everyone trickles out after breakfast, Gareth the last to leave before Eddie, and Eddie watches the two of them have a whispered argument by the front door that ends in him gesturing in Eddies direction and then throwing up his hands before shoving past Steve out the door

He doesn't get what Gareth's problem with Steve is.

Steve is - Steve's great, actually, which is a problem for Eddie in particular but shouldn't be an issue for Gareth the same way, because Gareth is strictly a tits man. No, Gareth had had a bug up his ass about Steve Harrington since that first day and Eddie hates that he won't just give up whatever idea he's got in his head that Steve isn't a fucking dream.

He's bad at ignoring the crush, alright?

When Steve sidles back into the kitchen he's got a serious look on his face Eddie doesn't particularly like. And - he should probably go, too, like the rest of them, but he's still perched up on the counter, wearing Steve Harrington's clothes and drinking Steve Harrington's coffee and admiring Steve Harrington's stupid pretty face.

He's so fucked.

"What do you remember from last night?" Steve asks once he's got his own coffee cup back in his hand, and Eddie gives him a rundown of the first half without issue. It gets a little foggy after he'd downed a second cup of punch.

"Did I do something stupid?" He doesn't drink very often, is the thing - too many bad memories of the elder Munson getting shithoused - but he'd fucking graduated and flipped Higgins the bird with diploma in hand and he'd indulged, just the once.

Steve grimaces. "Not - stupid, no. Just. Before you fell asleep you uh..."

Eddie tries to pull up the memory, gets a throbbing pain in his temple for the trouble, and manages only a vague whisper of a memory - catching Steve's fingers in his own as Steve tucked a blanket over him.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee. Runs a hand through his hair - delightfully messy, which is the sort of thing Eddie should t let himself linger on too long because it's not like he's going to get to see him like this often, rumpled and sleepy even though he's been up for a while now.

"You. Said something "

Eddie says a lot of things, and mostly he says a lot of bullshit, but -

Steve's knuckles against Eddie's lips, minty fresh breath because Steve had told him he'd feel better in the morning if he brushed his teeth before he passed out, Steve standing over him and smiling as Eddie's eyes shuttered closed, a soft sigh escaping his lips as Steve's fingers drifted from his. "Love you," he'd muttered under his breath, when Steve's footsteps had retreated -

Fucking.

Drunk Eddie is a goddamn problem.

"What did I say?" Eddie asks, and he's thankful his voice doesn't waver because he's gotta play this off, some how, some way, because he's not ready to not have Steve in his life and -

"It - it doesn't." Steve sighs. "You really don't remember?"

And he sounds - upset, about it, like he'd expected they'd be able to talk about it later.

"Uh..."

Steve runs a hand over his face. Sighs. Turns his head up to stare at the ceiling and Eddie, like an idiot, stares at the long line of his neck and thinks about biting it.

"Screw it," Steve says, and before Eddie can so much as blink Steve's across the kitchen and crowding into Eddie's space. He's shorter, like this, with Eddie perched on the counter, has to tilt his head up to catch Eddie's gaze and he's - close. Closer than Eddie tends to let him be for extended periods of time. "I like you, Eddie."

"...but?"

Steve snorts, and his hand curls around Eddie's knee, which is - it's doing something to Eddie's head, and maybe he's still drunk from last night because everything feels a bit hazy. "No but, man. I - you -." He scrunches up his nose the same way Wheeler does, but Eddie doesn't find it half as endearing when Nancy does it. "You've had my name splashed across your back all morning and it's driving me crazy, man, I'm so into you it's not even funny."

Nice sweatshirt, both Jeff and Gareth had said, like they were all in on some sort of joke, and Steve had chosen this shit out of one of his drawers, and Steve hadn't seemed like he had much to drink at all last night, and Steve is -

"If this is a joke it's a fucked up one, Steve."

Steve curls a hand into Eddie's hair and kisses him.

---

Gareth doesn't comment on the sweatshirt when he strides into the Harrington garage two days later, but he takes one look at the purpling bruise on Steve's neck and spends a moment torn between wanting to high five the dude and bemoan how insufferable Eddie's going to be with a full ass boyfriend. He keeps his mouth shut instead.

Jeff doesn't have the same problem. "Nice hickey," he says, poking at it as Steve hands out drinks, and Steve goes red and ducks his head but later, in the quiet privacy of the closed garage he tugs at Eddie's belt loop and presses a kiss to his cheek in full view of the band. Eddie preens, so Gareth was 100% right about that.

On the plus side, Gareth thinks, even as Eddie tries to persuade them to warm up with a fucking love song, at least Eddie might have something to stick around in Hawkins for a little bit longer.

[xreader-writing]

A chance | Tom Holland

Sumarry → Tom wants Y/n to give him a chance

Pairing → Tom Holland X Actress!Reader | Word Count �� 796

A/N → I loved doing this, hope it's not too bad lol. ♡ English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Tom Holland Masterlist | Masterlist

"Is it because I'm younger than you?" Tom says approaching you, just as the director yells cut.

"Which?" Y/n asks looking doubtfully at Tom, who scratches the back of his head.

"Let's take a break folks!" the director cuts, and Y/n takes advantage of Tom's moment of distraction to distance himself from him.

"Y/n wait!" She hears Tom yelling right behind her.

"Wait please don't run away this time, I just want to understand." He says pulling her arm making Y/n stop walking and turn to him.

"Tom..."

"I just need a clear answer, and then I swear I'll never bother you with it again." He says it seriously, and Y/n feels his heart tighten.

Y/n turns around and starts walking again, but Tom is faster and runs in front of her, stopping Y/n again.

"I don't understand, we were doing so well, we almost kissed, what happened?"

"Why are you insisting so much on this?"

"Y/n I like you so much, you stole my heart so fast, and I don't care that you have it, I'm actually glad you do." He says smiling softly.

"Have you ever been in love?" Tom asks after a moment of silence.

"I'm not sure" Y/n replies and Tom giggles looking down.

"Well, it's the most amazing thing in the world, you feel like... you don't need anything else, and days are easier to start and easier to end because you can't wait to see that person again. " Y/n looks at Tom in shock, and he blushes as he feels her eyes on him.

Y/n looks at him, and can see the infinity in his eyes

"Hey, wanna tell me what's going on in there?" Tom asks, taking Y/n's hand.

"I'm scared Tom."

"And I'm so in love with you."

"Stop saying those things!"

"Sorry I can't help it!" The two laugh and are interrupted by the notification sound on Tom's cell phone.

When Tom lets go of Y/n's hand to take his cell phone from his pocket, she realizes that she can already miss the warmth of his hand "Where does that come from?" Y/n thinks.

"Look Sebastian tagged us in a photo." Tom showed Y/n his cell phone, and there was a photo that Sebastian had just posted of Tom and Y/n pretending to punch Sebastian who was in their midst, and the caption of the photo was "My couple (not couple) favorite"

"He's terrible" Y/n says and they both laugh.

You stare at each other for a while with loving eyes on your faces, until he takes your hand and places a kiss on her back.

"You are so Beautiful." He says blushing and Y/n laughs.

"Even with all this fake blood?"

"Oh sure!" they both laugh, and then he pulls her into a hug.

"I know I'm a few years younger than you, but I promise if you give me a chance I'll love you so much you'll get sick of me." he says and you both laugh.

"Tom I swear this has nothing to do with your age."

"So what is it?"

"I'm not good at relationships Tom."

"Me neither dear, but maybe we can try to help each other, and make it work." Tom says sincerely.

"And i don't think I could get enough of you Tom." He looks surprised at you.

"Is this... is it serious?"

"It sure is...maybe we can try." Y/n says smiling at Tom, and his heart races.

"This is so amazing! wow I...you are amazing!" Tom steals a kiss from Y/n who blushes at the attitude.

"Sorry I shouldn't have done that..." Tom says laughing and scratching the back of his head.

"No I…I liked that." Y/n says and kisses Tom's cheek.

"Want to go to dinner with me today?" Tom asks excitedly.

"I want."

Maybe this could work, and she's just overthinking it.

Bonus

"You want to bet how much they're having an argument about the relationship right now?" Anthony says sitting next to Sebastian, who had just posted the photo.

"Opposite he talked about his age." Sebastian says laughing.

"Well, Chris bet that before the weekend they would finally be together." Anthony says drinking the beer.

Before Sebastian can respond, a notification sound from Anthony's cell phone indicating a new message fills the room.

"It's Chris." He says opening the message

"I won" Along with a picture of Y/n and Tom holding hands on the set of the new movie.

"Motherfu-

[shine-of-aldhani]

Daemon and Laena in Pentos: a long analysis

I have seen people completely divided on whether he was presented as a good husband, a bad one, or anything in between, and I feel like the scenes had lots of subtext that bears looking into, so here is my analysis of them:

- Dragonriding scene: apart from showing us that they are pretty in synch while performing the tricks, it's crucial to notice that they are, indeed, performing for their hosts. They aren't flying just for pleasure: the dragons are circling the castle; the vertical take off, the skydive and the fireball are all positioned in such a way as to offer the Prince of Pentos the best view (this will be important for later).

- The dinner: Laena is at ease and jokes with the Prince. The prince toasts Daemon's ancestor and offers Daemon a proposition. Laena answers before her husband. Daemon holds her hand and says that he'll consider the proposition.

- Library scene: Laena interrupts the valyrian lesson and confronts Daemon about the offer. He explains his reasons. Laena continues talking. He deflects once by caressing her stomach. She stops his hands and presses her point. He deflects again by leaning his head on her. She continues talking through this. He then deflects the 3rd time by pretending to read, and she gives up.

- Balcony scene: Daemon is (hiding) chilling and Laena comes to him again. He smiles and helps her sit down comfortably. She retakes her agenda of convincing him to go back to Westeros. He curses the wine he's drinking (first verbal escalation) and once again evades Laena by standing up and turning his back to her. She approaches him again. At this point, he's done and escalates fully to a sarcastic verbal lashing. She stops talking and offers him physical comfort, but now he is the one who doesn't accept it.

It's obvious that this marriage has problems, but this does not read to me as Daemon being a bad husband to Laena. She feels comfortable enough in her marriage to relentlessly (nag) pursue him to get what she wants. He is way worse than her at communicating: he does explain his point of view initially, but as that fails, he defaults to repeatedly evading her until he does lose his cool at the end. Both offer small gestures of comfort to each other, and both have bad timing so that the offer isn't accepted. Laena knows that she's second best and seems at peace with it - she probably suspected this going in. Daemon seems like he's doing his absolute best to the point where it's sucking all the joy out of him. They seem to respect each other and care for each other, and their main problem is that what they envision for their family going forward are two vastly different things. Laena's wish to go home is easy to understand. Daemon's problem is less clear, but five episodes have given us enough cues to decipher it.

Daemon is a second son who has no possessions in his name, and this fact has finally caught up to him. He isn't banished, but he cannot remain in Kings Landing without the relationship with his brother breaking down in a matter of days. He also cannot squat on Rhaenyra's property at Dragonstone anymore. Pentos offers Daemon a stable way to support his family in the wake of the birth of his 3rd child - but the caveat is that he must work for this (and he's low-key already doing that - see the point about the dragon exhibition). Laena thinks it's beneath him and he absolutely feels the same, but he'd still rather figuratively work to maintain his family by defending Pentos on Caraxes than have them live on Driftmark off Corlys' benevolence as Laena wants.

All this is compounded by his ambivalent relationship with his Valyrian heritage. At the beginning of the series, Daemon was one of six living Valyrians. His obsession with sticking together, keeping the language alive and distrusting outsiders in family matters all stem from the fact that his race is dying (and with only six remaining specimens, it's actually already dead). And yeah, he can talk about Targaryens being superior all he wants, but his true feelings were clear in this episode: "we don't belong anywhere". And yet, instead of sticking together, they are now at a point where Daemon would rather keep away to avoid escalation than be with the people he obviously misses. And I'm not even touching the whole "Rhaenyra is following his marriage advice with his once upon a time subordinate" thing.

The result is that he's absolutely adrift during the episode. Laena sees this: she remarks that if he liked his life in Pentos, he'd be out exploring the city the same way he loved and explored King's Landing. He'd be out flying Caraxes for pleasure, not for exhibition. Part of her insistence to go home is absolutely for Daemon's own benefit, but she cannot understand his problems since he cannot verbalize them.

When Laena dies, not only Daemon's old life in Westeros is still closed to him, a new life in Pentos isn't possible either. He does from expecting a 3rd child with his dragonriding wife in their maybe forever home to watching her immolate herself and leave him and his daughters with zero family support in a foreign land. So yeah... I would have loved to see him comfort the girls in their shared grief. He absolutely should have. But it also kind of made sense that he completely closed off instead. Here is to him figuring this stuff out at some point.

[urwelcomeforthis]

Alex’s tattoo shows up the day after she punches Marcus Hinkle.

He had been picking on Kara in the hallway, dangling her math book above her head, taking advantage of his summer growth spurt.

Kara still doesn’t know what possessed Alex – Marcus Hinkle had been a thorn in her side since she had landed on Earth and started school a year ago, but whatever the reason, today was the day Alex couldn’t take anymore.

Eliza had been furious. Jeremiah had been (not so) silently proud.

Kara didn’t know what she had felt, really. Especially not when she asked Alex why, and the older girl had just shrugged and said “You’re my sister. It’s what we do.”

Up until this point being sisters meant fights in the hallway over the bathroom and ignoring each other at the dinner table.

Apparently, things were changing.

Kara is just waking up when she hears Alex’s hushed “What the hell?”

“What is it?” She asks, groggily sitting up and wiping at the sleep in her eyes.

Her sister is holding her forearm up, frantically scrubbing at a spot right in the middle, her eyes frantic.

“I don’t…. I don’t know! It’s like a tattoo but I didn’t get a tattoo! Fuck, Mom is going to kill me.” Alex sounds panicked as she continues scrubbing at the spot, and Kara feels her heartbeat speed up.

“You had a tattoo just appear on your skin?” Kara asks slowly, her mind suddenly far away on a planet that doesn’t exist anymore, in a culture she had been forced to leave behind.

Alex stops scrubbing and looks at Kara with a piercing gaze. “Yeah. It’s some funny symbol too, like the way you used to write before you learned English. Did you do this to me?”

Alex leaps off the bed and crosses the room in two quick strides, arm held out like an accusation.

Kara shrinks in on herself a little but nods. “I think so. I didn’t know it was possible here, but well, on Krypton when your soul mate reveals themselves, a tattoo linking you appears. I should have one too, somewhere, if you do.”

Alex stops dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. “Soul mates? But we’re sisters! That’s so gross!”

Jumping up from the bed, hands held up in surrender Kara hastens to explain further. “No! Not like that, I promise! Back home, people had different kinds of soul mates. Sometimes it was the romantic kind like you talk about here on Earth, but other times it could just be a compatible soul, someone who was meant to be a part of you.”

Alex still looks wary, if not relieved, as she tentatively holds out her arm. “So, what does this mean? What kind of soul mates are we?”

Stepping forward Kara delicately traces the symbols on Alex’s forearm. “It literally means “sister of the soul.” Je shesur. The symbol after it is unique, the way we would know we were linked. If this had happened on Krypton it would mean we were soul sisters. Not from the same parents but family just the same.”

Alex nods. “And here on Earth? What does it mean here?”

“The same thing. At least that’s what it means to me.” Kara refuses to meet Alex’s eyes, not sure she wants to see what waits for her there.

There’s a long minute of silence after Alex takes her arm back. The clearing of her throat brings Kara’s eyes up from their place on the ground.

“Where’s yours?” Alex asks, eyes burning with curiosity.

Kara shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not on my arms like yours is. It must be hidden. Can you look on my back?”

“Sure.” Alex nods. “Lift up your shirt.”

Kara turns and tugs her shirt up and over her head. It takes a moment, but she hears her sister gasp followed by the feel of fingertips against her left shoulder blade.

“It’s the same as mine.” Alex says reverently, and Kara closes her eyes against the emotion welling up there.

Who would have thought she would get to have this piece of home?

“So, I guess I’m stuck with you. For like, ever, huh?” Alex smiles once Kara has turned back around.

Kara grins back. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Alex shrugs. “Could be worse. But you have to tell Mom about this, because she’ll never believe me, and she is going to be pissed that I have a tattoo.”

“Sure, I can tell Mom.” Kara grins, a piece of her heart settling in place. She hasn’t felt at home on Earth, not really, but at this moment she feels like it isn’t all that bad.

--

The next person to get a tattoo is, interestingly enough, James.

It doesn’t come when they’re dating, or whatever it was that they were doing, no.

It comes after he has revealed himself to be Guardian, and he and Kara have the biggest fight of their friendship.

Kara wakes up the morning after tired, groggy, and more than a little cranky. Its as she’s stripping down to get in the shower that she notices it – the Kryptonese scrawled along the inside of her right bicep.

Throniv Shesur. Protector of the soul.

Kara heaves a deep, deep, sigh and grabs her phone.

She meets James at the DEO, both tentative around each other after the yelling match of the day before.

“So. I woke up with a tattoo. Kryptonese. Any idea what that’s about?” James looks smug, like he’s won some kind of battle with Kara and god, at that moment she wishes they were in the training room and she could just punch him.

“Yeah. I did too. It means “protector of the soul.” She crosses her arms against her chest, desperately trying to hold onto her anger from yesterday but the wide grin on James’ face is making it hard.

“I know. I asked Clark first thing since I figured you’re still pissed at me. He was a little surprised, but he translated it for me.”

“Where’s it at?” Kara asks, still pretending to be upset but truthfully it was hard given the glaring message from home telling her that James was meant to be Guardian. That they were meant to protect each other. Protect others together.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” James says with a waggle of his eyebrows and that’s what finally breaks Kara, a laugh ringing out across the room.

It wasn’t who she expected to have a tattoo, not in this way at least, but if it had to be anyone, she’s glad it’s James.

--

Mon-El doesn’t get a tattoo. Kara wishes she were more disappointed.

--

The last person to get a tattoo is someone Kara had desperately hoped both would and would not get a tattoo.

For a long time, she feared what that tattoo would be, if it were to happen. She feared having to explain it, having to explain herself.

She had checked with Clark a few times, when paranoia would get the better of her.

No, he always told her. Lex did not have a tattoo. They were enemies, yes, but it hadn’t been decided by destiny or fate. It just was.

That mollified Kara because she couldn’t stand it if she and Lena were to become Clark and Lex. She would fight against it, fight against fate to keep it from happening.

And then, well. It kind of happens anyways.

They aren’t enemies, not really. Lena just hates Kara and aims a few Kryptonite cannons at her and tries to mind control the entire planet, but really everyone is allowed a brief lapse of their sensibility, right?

And what matters is she came around, in the end.

It did take time, however, for them to build back to what they once had. It was different now, but in the way that things once broken and fixed usually are.

It was better, if anything.

They were back to shared lunches and dinners, quick breakfasts and coffee breaks. They were back to game nights as partners and movie nights as friends, and the occasional sleepovers as best friends.

Things were finally back to normal, so of course Kara had to go and absolutely, irrevocably, mess it up.

It was Alex’s fault, really.

If she hadn’t said anything, if she hadn’t asked Kara what was up between her and Lena lately, Kara probably never would have stopped to think about it.

She never would have stopped to think about the way her heart sped up when Lena entered a room, or the way her palms got sweaty when they hugged, or the way she just could not stop staring at Lena when she laughed at game nights.

But now she had thought of it and had come to the very scary conclusion that she was in love with her best friend.

Her best friend who didn’t have a tattoo.

She would, after all this time, have a tattoo, the tattoo, if they were meant to be together, right?

Kara mulls it over for weeks. It haunts her. She asks Lena about tattoos, and if she has any.

She learns that yes, in fact Lena does have tattoos and boy howdy one of them is on her lower back and it is seared into the back of her eyes now that she has seen it.

But she doesn’t have any kryptonian tattoos, which is really what Kara was aiming for.

Much like it was Alex’s fault that Kara even realized she was in love, it’s also Alex who reminds Kara of one important detail.

“Well I didn’t get my tattoo until after I punched what’s his face. Maybe you have to tell Lena how you feel and then she’ll get the tattoo.”

Kara feels dumb struck, right there on her own couch, because of course, Alex is right.

The tattoos always come after the person has already revealed themselves.

Then of course comes the true fear: what if she tells Lena and she still doesn’t get a tattoo?

That’s the question she’s mulling over the next night as she and Lena sit on her couch watching some documentary that had been put on Netflix.

Lena looks beautiful, face bare of makeup, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, glasses slipping down her nose.

She’s eating a piece of pizza, a rare treat after a long week of work, and Kara decides that it doesn’t matter if Lena doesn’t get a tattoo.

She’s hopelessly, desperately in love with the woman and she can’t let a tattoo that may or may not come dictate her life.

“I’m in love with you, you know.” Kara blurts out, like this isn’t a life changing moment, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. (It is.)

Lena chokes a little on the bite she was swallowing, her hand coming up to her chest as she sets down the slice.

“Excuse me?”

Kara laughs. She’s never felt more free than in this moment. “I’m in love with you. I just thought you should know.”

Lena looks at her, shock written all over her face. “Oh. I guess that’s good.”

“Just good?” Kara nudges Lena’s thigh with her knee.

Lena shakes her head. “I mean it’s more than good, considering I’m in love with you too.”

“Yeah?” Kara could float up to the moon, she thinks.

Lena smiles, nose crinkled. “Yeah.”

It’s the next morning that Lena calls and asks if Kara can stop by. She has this tattoo she didn’t have yesterday, right on her ribcage, and it looks like it’s Kryptonian.

Kara frantically searches her own body, finding the script on her hip, on the left side.

Zhao Shesur. Love of the soul.

It took them five years to get to this point, but Kara knows, this moment was more than worth the wait.

[mqverick]

you’re my best friend i’ll love you forever

(warnings: strong language, light smut, mentions of emotionally unstable past)

im sorry if there are any grammatical/vocabulary errors in this

————————————————————————

hope you don’t regret it

i pushed a lot back but i can’t forget it

he was perfectly fine and healthy, his family was lovely, he was satisfied with the grades he got at school, he was one of the best students in drama class, he graduated. everything was truly fine until he met that one damned girl from drama class. she was probably the friendliest person at school, always with a smile on her face, greeting everyone on her way. she had no right to have such a disarming smile. timothee… he saw her as that divine person he wasn’t even worthy to look upon. she rarely wore any makeup – which was sort of frustrating because according to his point of view, she didn’t even need it.

her hair was brunette and straight, curtain bangs covering her brown eyes most of the times. she didn’t have any freckles, but he could’ve sworn she had some sort of permanent faint blush on her cheeks that brought out the color of her full pink lips that were always covered with a light base of chapstick. in fact, timothee had stolen one of her peach-flavored chapsticks once, just to keep it to himself, wear it on sometimes only to pretend that he was given the chance to finally get to see how her soft lips would taste against his. call it mad, but he’d promised to himself that he’d never let go of that chapstick.

his first encounter with her was during freshman year at high school, somewhere in the hallways.

he remembered everything; how he’d accidentally bumped to the girl, who had so kindly offered her help to bring him back to his feet and catch the flying papers for his ad statistics class. being too dumbfounded from her manners and appearance, he’d just stood there, mouth agape, hand nervously tugging at the hairs on the nape of his neck as he’d challenged himself to blurt out at least two proper words at her, which of course, he’d failed. she’d only chuckled slightly at his awkwardness before mumbling a cheery ‘see you around!’, leaving him frozen in the middle of the corridor.

timothee recalled having performing a small talk in front of his mirror for two weeks before he finally worked up the courage to tap on her back and smile at her. when her head turned around to see who was it, her hair brushed against his hand, and out of the blue, all of the french and english alphabet died down in his throat as his perfectly normal and human smile turned into a very cheeky and clumsy one. he was sure that within several minutes, there would be sweat marks under the armpits on his shirt. after about fifty seconds of torturous silence, he uttered a quite shaky hi, to which she very tenderly responded, her hand landing on his arm as she affectionately ran it up and down its length to break the tension, but little did she knew that she’d only worsened the situation.

it took them three days to get close.

they started hanging out after drama classes, always sitting together, working their lines, meeting up after school, going to the movies, cooking dinner for each other, spending nights together, staying at each other’s place, etc. at first, it was hard for Timothee to actually believe that not only had he manged to talk to the girl that got him so flustered, but end up being best friends with her, but after a few months, he got pretty much used to it.

her nicknames for him were plenty; tim, timmy, timo – but even teasing ones, like, lil timmy tim and two inches proud. she rarely called him by his full name; only when she was mad or wanted to talk to him about something really serious and important.

their friendship was something he cherished. truthfully, at first he was so afraid of being himself only because he was worried he would do something stupid and ruin everything, thing that didn’t go unnoticed by her. as they were binge watching ‘the office’ at her house once, she’d questioned his strange behavior, which ended up in a long, late night discussion. that night nothing but the truth was told. well… partly. timothee faintly remembered himself falling asleep at some point, waking up with his arms wrapped around her warm body, his legs tangled with hers as she snored quietly, still asleep.

it was funny how his heart seemed to be in the mood to beat as if he’d run a 26.2 miles marathon at seven o’clock in the morning. what was even more hilarious was the fact that he’d sweated over his desperate attempts to untangle himself from her and force his mind to think about anything, literally anything gross, otherwise she would wake up to the feeling of his boner poking her thigh.

all in all, he was pretty much fucked.

we never got the credit

nobody seemed to hear us but we said it

he knew he was in love with her on their first getaway vacation together in paris. they were seventeen, nearing eighteen, and it was a warm august evening with them taking walks at the trocadéro, ice cream cones in their hands as they admired the view of the eiffel tower. she’d suggested going up in the tower, watch the sunset with him and then have dinner at the nearest bistro while watching the eiffel tower light up with thousands of sparkly leds that would make it shine brighter than the stars in the sky. being unable to ever say no to her, timothee was keen on the idea, so they did exactly as she’d said. whilst they were admiring paris’s beauty from the tower, he felt her thumb brushing against his cheek, the outline of his lips and eventually landing on his upper lip. his mouth had parted almost too quickly, which was quite embarrassing, but he seemed to have no control over his body whenever she was around.

“ice cream,” was all she’d given as an explanation, licking her index finger slowly enough to make him want to groan – and he was worried that if she kept being so damn intimate with him, he would soon come in his pants with not the slightest hint of a warning.

that same night, they’d chosen some place called ‘bistrot paul chene’ to have dinner at. timothee wasn’t really hungry, but seeing as it broke him to ever not fulfill any of her favors, he ended up having a small salad and a water, while she’d ordered half of the catalog along with red wine, which pretty much got her drunk immediately. the combination of cinq verres de vin and at least three portions of chicken fillet with vegetables had her throwing up all night in their hotel’s room, timothee holding her hair and rubbing small circles on her back to help her relax.

despite the intense, stinking smell of puke that surrounded her that night, timothee dragged her all the way to the small bedroom, changed her clothes into some clean of his own, laid her in bed, covered her carefully with a blanket, kissed the outline of her hair and let himself linger on the foot of the bed, making sure she would sleep peacefully.

to his surprise, while he was just about to get up from the bed and occupy the couch – which apparently was the only place he could nap at – he heard her softly murmuring his name, so he froze instantly and turned around to check on her, her eyes still closed, but her lips were moving as though she was trying to utter a sentence out, but was unable to.

“everything all right? do you want me to stay a little longer?” he’d asked.

“i love you, timmy,” she’d mumbled, half-asleep, a smile plastered on her face, and within the following few minutes, soft snores of her own were echoing in the small room as timothee tried to get himself to react to her confession. he'd felt a literal roller coaster of emotions; euphoria, vulnerability, fear, back to overwhelming joy. his heart thrummed violently against his rib cage, threatening to pop out of his chest as a newfound warmness ran through his entire body.

he knew. he knew he’d hopelessly fallen for her in a heartbeat, knew he’d been feeling that way ever since his eye first-caught the glimpse of her form wandering around the halls of their high school. knew she felt like his home, knew he would always protect her because he could not stand the thought of her hurting, knew her happiness and welfare would always be above his own. he’d loved her with her positives and her flaws – in fact, it were her flaws that made him love her even more. in other words, he felt like floating every time they were together, which was simultaneously good and bad.

“i love you too,” he’d answered after a total of five minutes of silence and processing.

little did she know that the kind of love he felt for her didn’t quite match hers.

neither of us planned it

and for a long time I took it all for granted

their first fight occurred during the end of their junior year in high school. he’d never felt so bad in his life – hell, he couldn’t even believe how he’d brought himself to act so rude to her. the key word to his abrupt mood swing was jealousy. a very ugly feeling he couldn’t avoid when she started her relationship with her very first boyfriend – some foreign student from a students exchange program. he was polish or from the netherlands, or at least timothee remembered so.

it’d started on a cozy december evening at his place, while the two of them were watching a cliché christmas movie on the tv. she’d asked timothee if he wanted to hang out the following day after school, and if her boyfriend could perhaps come along, thing that had blinded any sign of logical thinking in his head – completely. he’d thrown several bitter comments such as ‘oh, him again’, ‘of course you’re wondering whether he can come along’, ‘do you ever do anything without him for a change?’. she’d been taken aback from his sudden behavior, had attempted to search for the source that released all those copious amounts of antipathy.

“you don’t like my boyfriend?” she’d asked, perplexed.

“it’s not that… i guess he’s just not my favorite person in the planet.”

the sarcastic tone in his voice was what had hurt her the most. never in a million years had she imagined that he’d ever be sarcastic with her, not when he knew that sarcasm was the thing she hated the most after being lied to. “oh my god, i can’t believe this!”

“yeah, well, sorry that not all of us can tolerate his attempt to speak with an american accent. have you ever heard him? he sounds as though he has pneumonia.”

“shut up! do you even hear yourself? you’re acting like a five-year-old! i literally met my boyfriend to my parents seven days after we began dating, but it took me two whole weeks to meet him to you. it’s not like i didn’t care about their approval, but your opinion meant everything to me, and i was so fucking nervous to introduce him to you because i wanted you to like him so bad. and when the two of you finally met and my boyfriend called to tell me how much he’d liked you, i assumed that it went well… but now you’re telling me that it didn’t. it just didn’t but you didn’t fucking think of telling me that for which reasons again?” she’d asked, her voice raising as she’d tried to wrap her mind around the fact that she’d also been lied to.

“when you say it like that it sounds kind of bad.”

“that’s because it is! it is bad, timothee, very bad.”

“it’s not my fault he’s stupid!” he’d raised his voice at her for the very first time in his life that night, and she’d flinched slightly. “i don’t think your boyfriend knows the meaning of dumbass that well.”

“hold up… what?”

it’d been one of those ‘uh oh’ moments for him. “hey, no, no, i’m sorry, i–”

“so not only don’t you like him, but you talked shit about him… in front of him?”

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to–”

“shut up, timothee, there’s no room for excuses now. i think i should get going,” she’d stated before grabbing her coat from the couch, heading to the door, where she stopped momentarily to call out his name. “i think we should stay separate this week.”

his face had dropped in shock, tears had welled in his eyes. “are you saying you don’t want our friendship anymore? please – i’m sorry – i’ll try to like him if that’s what you want–”

“i’m going to force you into being fond of him, tim. all i’m saying is that i'm giving you some time to think, as well as me. i don’t want us quarreling and i think some distance will help us.”

after she’d left, pauline, timothee’s sister, had come downstairs to check if everything was all right, since she’d heard the yelling and shouting from her room. the moment timothee had seen, his knees had buckled and he’d collapsed in her, bawling uncontrollably as he kept muttering to himself how much of an idiot he was. despite the fact that she kept her promise and began hanging out with him again after a week had passed, he felt even more fragile than before, simply for the reason that he’d come just a breath away from losing her and the thought of that was utterly terrifying.

i really thought we had it

but at the time it was more than i could manage, so

he didn’t know how he’d managed.

if timothee thought that a week-lasting argument with her had neared the end of the world, then when he got his heart broken by her for the very first time, it’d felt like the earth had split in two and burst in flames. it wasn’t intentional or anything, it wasn’t even something that should have bothered him that much, but it was valentine’s day and…

… well, he’d proposed that brilliant idea, that plan to confess everything as her secret admirer, to write her a card that would pour his heart out, and afterwards, after gauging her reaction, to tell her that he’d sent it – with candy, of course, not flowers; he knew how strong her sweet tooth was.

he’d spent nearly an entire week of sleepless nights full of discarded drafts before he’d finally found what he’d wanted to say, before he’d had the right words, and it’d been just in time for valentine’s day.

and then the following day at school he’d seen her with the boy she’d been talking to in their english class, and he’d had his hands around her waist and their lips had been nearly touching, and it’d felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and pummeled it with a sledgehammer.

he’d almost considered going to the nurse, claiming he’d been feeling nauseous (which hadn’t really been a lie) and asking if he could leave school early. instead he’d stayed, just never sent the card – he’d shoved it into his bag as though it had personally offended him and headed off to class.

he hadn’t known why, but he’d waited until he’d arrived home to tear the card in two and throw away the remains, and for the rest of the night he hadn’t left his room, claimed that he had some big test he’d needed to study for. that lie hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, who’d come to the chalamet household a couple of days later, turning the lights on to his room, finding him tucked under his covers, the hood of his favorite grey hoodie on top of his head, tears steaming down his cheeks.

she’d felt her heart sink to her stomach.

when his glossy green eyes had found hers, he’d slightly gotten up, attempting to sniffle a few sobs out of the way as his sleeved hand had come up to wipe off the tears that had pricked in the corners of his eyes. she hadn’t hesitated a moment before coming to the bed, wrapping her arms around his frame, which had resulted into him hugging her tightly without a warning, sobbing loudly against her shoulder, gripping onto her sweatshirt for dear life. she’d pulled down the grey hood in order to massage his scalp with one hand, murmuring sweet nonsense against the shell of his ear, not even once bothering to ask what had saddened him so. she’d known that he’d tell her whenever he felt ready.

which pretty much, never happened.

wish i didn’t doubt it

i wish i never ever told you all about it

they were eighteen and freshly graduated from high school when timothee finally confessed his feelings for her. the experience had been much more traumatizing and heartbreaking than he’d imagined – even now, at his twenty-four, he regretted telling her, he wished he could’ve just kept it to himself and save both of them from…

nicole and marc, timothee’s parents, had been so proud of their graduation that they’d decided to gift them a three-day trip to italy, just for their son and her. it was a day before their departure, she was alone at her small apartment (which she shared with her roommate), packing her suitcase for the trip.

he didn’t know how he’d thought that confessing his love for her a day before their big trip would be the greatest and most fitting moment, but he’d grown tired of having to act in real life too, so after several performances in front of his mirror and pauline, he’d come to her apartment, raising his hand to knock on her door. it’d taken him a few minutes to talk himself out from backing away the last minute.

you’re going to hate yourself if you don’t do this now. talk to her. rejection is something that’ll hurt at first, sure, but you’re going to deal with it. you’ll deal with it, he’d thought, finally letting his hand ball into a fist and knock softly on her door. not even a minute later, she’d opened it with a gigantic grin, some of which he recognized to be his sweaters in her hands.

“hey, timo, what a surprise! come help me pack,” she’d said cheerfully, and he’d faked a smile.

“before we do anything, do you think we could go to your room first? i want to talk to you about something quite important that i feel i need to get out of my chest.”

“sure, but you’re sort of scaring me,” she’d replied with a chuckle, leading him in her room as she’d thrown his sweaters in her suitcase, clapping her hands in satisfaction. she’d sat herself on the foot of her bed, patting the spot next to her for him to sit down, which he’d hesitantly done. he’d looked as though he’d been on the verge of crying, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, her hands instantly flying up to his face to graze gentle circling-patterns on his cheeks for comfort.

“i just want to say that i hope this decision of mine won’t cost you from my life,” he’d begun, placing his hands on top of hers and bringing them down on his lap, their fingers interlocked as his thumbs pressed softly on the back of her palms. she’d raised her eyebrow at him worriedly, her reassurance that nothing in a million years could cause the end of their friendship coming quick from her lips.

“timmy, what’s wrong? has something happened – are you alright?”

“i don’t know, it’s just…” he’d trailed off, giving himself the chance to chicken out and change the topic in something entirely different, but – “you’re everything. you’re my best friend, the kindest person i’ve ever met, it’s honestly sort of annoying that i personally can’t find a sign of imperfection in you, because even things that about you that you or others consider as flaws – they’re not flaws to me. i wish i could put into words how i feel about you, but that would be impossible because the english vocabulary hasn’t got half as many words as i could use to describe you. beautiful, amazing, caring, i could honestly go on for years…”

“aw, tim, that’s so sweet,” she’d beamed, completely unaware of what he’d been trying to say.

“… i never considered myself to be capable to love someone that much, but you came into my life and proved me wrong for once again. you’ve made me such a better person and i’ll be forever grateful for that. i love you. i’ll never grow tired of telling you how much i love you,” at that moment, he’d started collecting tears in the corners of his eyes, trying hard to keep them back from steaming down his cheeks. “and the reason why it’s hurting me so much is because i know you’ll never love me back.”

“what are you talking about? i do love you back, stupid!”

“nope, not in that way.”

there. he’d said it, he’d finally said it. there was no such thing as relief from finally letting it out.

if anything, it’d just hurt him more than it’d been all those years. the shocked look of eventual realization on her face had crushed his heart because he’d known what was coming. he’d known he’d lost her for good, he’d known she’d been just a minute away from breaking them up as friends. he’d known the whole thing had been pointless and stupid, he’d known that even if he kept saying to himself that he wished he could erase that moment from his head, he’d never truly do it, because he couldn’t regret it, no matter how much he tried to get himself to do so.

“what?”

“i’m in love with you. have been for years, i’m so fucking sorry for not having told you earlier. it was selfish and stupid and i tried to fall out of love with you, but i just couldn’t and–”

“i can’t do this,” she’d gotten up from the bed, her hands running through her hair as she’d impatiently urged timothee to get up as well, leading him to the living room, close to where the door was.

“no, listen, i’m not forcing you into loving me back or anything, i can deal with rejection, i swear to God i can! don’t make me go, please. i’ll give you as much time as you need, but don’t just erase me from your life, it will break me.”

“i’m not in the place… this isn’t… could you just… give me some time? to think?”

“of course,” he’d replied, heading to the door, a million thoughts running through his head as he tried to process the fact that he’d just ruined the only good thing in his life. “just tell me that i haven’t lost you. was it pointless? confessing my love to you? did i gross you out?” he’d asked a moment before walking out of the apartment, tears running on his cheeks, eyes red and stingy.

her response wasn’t immediate as always. he’d known. he’d known what her true answer had been regardless the fact she hadn’t given it to him.

“i don’t know.”

but i just had to let you know

i never meant to hurt you, though

ever since his love confession to her, she hadn’t exchanged a single word with him. she’d ignored all of his texts and calls, had left him waiting at the airport alone (not that he’d expected her to come anyway), crying in front of so many people, his suitcase long forgotten next to him as he’d curled up in a fetal position on his seat, trying to maintain his sobs and the unbearable pain he’d felt.

it was pauline who’d come to find him in that position, alarmed something bad had happened.

they’d gone to italy together, but he’d never even once considered getting out of the hotel, exploring the city, or even eating his feelings away. he’d just stayed in his bed for three days straight, not nearing a plate of food. his eyes had grown tired of crying, yet the tears seemed countless.

he’d lost her over nothing. his best friend, the love of his life. over nothing and everything.

he’d learned from a mutual friend of hers that she’d even changed her college application.

just so that she wouldn’t even have to face him ever again in his life. right when he’d made the decision to get his shit together, he’d found out about that and he’d come so close to depression that his parents had to find him a psychologist to talk to. timothee missed her like crazy in college. her contact was still saved in his phone and he’d spent countless nights looking at it, wondering whether he should’ve called her or not. she made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you, so stop torturing yourself, his inner voice said every time. you just had to fall in love with your best friend. stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid–

it’s pointless, stop it.

and with that being his last thought almost every night for two months straight, he fell asleep and waited for the next morning to rise, knowing very well that the love of his life was probably living her life as she should be, hanging out with friends, making out with boyfriends, having forgotten about him, which was fine, because that was how a normal person should’ve moved on. instead of him.

i had all my motives

i didn’t know they wouldn’t mix with your emotions

it happened on a cold morning during mid-february. timothee had finished the shootings for ‘little women’ and he’d come back to new york for a couple of days. he was casually hanging out at his favorite bagel shop, when he saw her. she was waiting in the queue, tapping her foot impatiently and checking her clock every three seconds. though it was creepy from his side to act like that, it was as though his heart had stopped momentarily, his eyes staring at her in disbelief.

it had been five years.

his thoughts got interrupted by something hot splashing on his shirt, pouring all the way down to his trousers. “ugh, fuck!” a familiar voice called in frustration, placing her half-empty cup of coffee to the table where timothee was sitting as she grabbed as many napkins as she could and began wiping his shirt neurotically. “fuck, i’m so sorry, it was an accident and this dumbass fell on me, and – timmy?”

ah, yes, one of her many nicknames for him. no matter how long it’d been ever since he heard that nickname falling out of her lips, it never failed to make his heart flutter. her eyes where blown in shock as he gazed up at her, awe-struck, as if there wasn’t any scorching coffee all over his clothes.

finally regaining his consciousness, he grabbed some of the napkins she was holding and wiped his sweater. her mouth was still agape and she seemed unable to move – had he killed her?

“hey! oh my god, it’s been so long,” he beamed with the best smile he could muster, getting up from his seat and helping her with her coffee. “how’s life? we haven’t talked for ages.”

“i…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. she glanced down at his coffee-covered clothes for a second and slapped her forehead with the back of her palm. “i’m doing good, yeah. hey, since i’ve probably ruined your amazing outfit, would you like to come over to my place? i mean, you can’t walk around the city like that and it’d also be a nice chance to catch up, right?” she offered, receiving the brightest and truest grin he’d smiled those past five years.

find an excuse and refuse kindly.

she broke you.

you’re doing it again, you’re letting her break you.

RUN OUT OF THAT PLACE IMMEDIATELY.

don’t do this to yourself.

say something came up.

don’t–

“i would absolutely love that.”

i just had to reach my goals

never knew i’d meet you though, so

they arrived at her apartment quicker than he thought. it was quite close to the bagel shop, meaning basically no one on the way stopped him for any autographs or photos, which was pretty much a blessing sent by god since it would’ve been mortifying if anyone noticed the huge coffee stains on his clothes. she hurriedly opened the door and let him in, showing him around the living room and telling him to hang on there for a second.

“wait, how am i supposed to change, though? i’m not sure your clothes will fit me,” timothee said.

“yeah, i don’t think that’d be a problem, since…” she blushed a deep crimson color and fiddled with the hem of her blouse. “… i still have some of your sweaters and sweatpants.”

“oh,” was all he muttered. flashbacks from that one day came into his mind, his heart twisting in a comb – was it too hot in the room? how was he supposed to react? what could he say? discomfort was evident in both of their faces as they avoided eye contact with each other.

“um, i’m just gonna fetch you a sweater and some cleans pants, hold up,” she said after a moment, thankfully being the bravest one and breaking that super loud silence. she came back in the living room, holding a black sweater and a pair of grey sweatpants of his. timothee let his mind wonder how many times she’d slept wearing his clothes, thing that was sort of unhealthy due to… well.

he smiled and thanked her kindly, heading into her bathroom as he got changed.

she, on the other hand, went into her room and immediately opened the sliding glass door which led to the balcony patio. a strong gush of wind was blown into the room, and she felt her hair rise and fall to the rhythm of the elevated breeze. she leaned down, resting her arms on the railing and taking in the view of the neighborhood. from behind her, she heard the door slowly creak open, however didn’t bother to turn around and see who it was. timmy silently came up next to her, also resting his arms on the balcony’s railing. rather than looking down and admiring the view of the small neighborhood, he just started straight ahead. he slowly turned his head, an action that she mirrored until their eyes met.

“i was nothing but a complete ass to you that day, tim,” she said after letting out a deep, loud sigh. “i should’ve talked to you, i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. i can imagine how heartbreaking it must’ve been for you to just wait and wait for any response of mine only to find out that you weren’t getting one. actually, no, i can’t imagine how painful that must’ve been because i’d be a hypocrite if i said i did. you deserved so much better than me, i was a terrible friend,” she continued, tears brimming in her eyes as her gaze dropped down at her shoes, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

timmy opened his mouth to say something, but the words died down in his throat as he did so. he remembered how hard he’d cried, how he’d lost his appetite for fucking weeks – she’d broken him.

“it’s fine, it wasn’t your fault.”

“no, it was, stop saying it wasn’t,” she said a little louder. “i fucking transferred! i didn’t go to the college of my dreams because i thought it’d be too hard to see you in the hallways – who the fuck does that? name a decent person that does that and then i’ll agree with you; that it wasn’t my fault. oh, sweet little me, everybody loves me,” she mocked herself, wiggling her hands in the air, “if only they knew how selfish i’ve been, how unfair. you didn’t deserve to be treated the way i treated you.”

letting out a loud breath, he walked up behind her, wrapping his woolen jacket (that wasn’t coffee-stained) around her shoulders, giving her a back hug. he wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder as she placed her hands on his.

“i haven’t stopped thinking about that day, timmy,” she murmured softly against his cheek. he sighed and she turned around, breaking away from the warmth that engulfed her, instantly regretting it.

“that exaggeration that everyone talks about; the feeling of your heart getting stabbed repeatedly with a shard of glass when someone doesn’t reciprocate your emotions… i felt that,” timothee began after a minute, his hands still holding hers. “you imagined a potential with someone, you put your heart on your sleeve, only for them to break it in pieces. i’m not going to lie to you since that’s not what you want. it was painful, alright? it felt as though my world was falling apart, and every fiber of my being was torn to shreds along with it. i cried for months, didn’t eat properly, i missed classes. i couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d just asked me to leave. i didn’t want you to feel the same way, i would never force anyone into falling in love with me just so that i wouldn’t feel heartbroken, but man, i imagined yelling, throwing stuff or just sitting shook on the couch, not being able to utter the slightest hint of a sentence, but not even saying a single word to me for five years?”

he’d started tearing up at that point.

“five whole years, i kept waiting for your text or your call – or just anything that would signal your existence in this planet. i’ve never loved anyone half as much as i’ve loved you.”

“i was ashamed to talk to you,” she admitted after a moment. “so ridiculously ashamed. like, what could’ve i said to you? oh, hey, timothee, it’s me, the girl that left you like that! chile, anyway so, do you want to grab a coffee with me? i feel terrible for breaking your heart, by the way. believe me, there hasn’t been a day i haven’t thought about you. when i lost you, i lost a part of me, too. i lost the part of me that was motivating me to be a better person.” her grip tightened and she brought his hands to her lips, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss on his knuckles. “i’m so sorry, timmy. really, i could spend years apologizing to you and it wouldn’t just heal the wound i created.”

“do you think we could, like… i don’t know, have a fresh start or something? i know i’d love that,” timothee suggested out of the blue, her eyes shooting up to hold his gaze for a seconds as she nodded vigorously in response, a smile of relief breaking on her face; she was glowing. not being able to resist himself, he mirrored her smile and nodded as well, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly.

“i missed you so much, timmy,” she said against his shoulder, her voice coming out muffled.

“i missed you even more.”

“so, should we meet up tomorrow? bagel shop? or dinner? or movie at my place?”

“what about bagel takeout from the best bagel place in the world and movie at my place at 7?”

“it’s a date,” she smiled an ear-to-ear grin, which made his heart flutter and skip a beat.

“it’s a date.”

we should stick together

you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever (would you come with me?)

they were sitting on the couch, eating their cream cheese bagels while watching a movie timmy had chosen – one that he recalled having watched with her the time they had their first sleepover at his house. he tried hard to focus on the tv and not think about how close to him she was, practically snuggled up against his chest, her hands resting on his lap as they knees were touching.

“this feels so great, timo,” she said at some point, looking up at him with a sweet smile.

“couldn’t agree more,” he replied, leaning down to peck her hair. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to–”

“shush you, it’s okay.”

butterflies erupted in his stomach as he attempted to scooch her back on her side of the couch, claiming he needed some water, and oh how he’d so simply returned to his teenage years, where he would just pop a boner out of anything. don’t, don’t, don’t, he mentally hissed at himself, wanting to prevent the mortification of getting hard in front of her.

“timmy, you’re missing the best part!” she called from the living room, her head slightly hanging from the cushions as she motioned him to get back on the couch. “and i’m missing my pillow.”

“looks like i never stopped being your pillow after all,” he laughed.

“mm, no boyfriend of mine could replace you.”

oh.

timmy’s stomach went into full butterfly mode. his face turned red and his heart began practicing the plop it would made when it would finally burst out of his chest. where was nicholas sparks to write his great love story? fuck hormones. he really wasn’t in the place to go back to fifteen.

“uh, sorry, i didn’t – this came out wrong. i didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” she stumbled after noticing the evident crimson on his cheeks and slight discomfort. timmy tried to reassure her that everything was fine – though it really wasn’t – and returned his attention to the movie on tv (but without knowing that neither of them were watching it anymore.)

“no, i mean, yeah, i know,” he stammered.

“can i ask you something? i need you to be honest with me, though.”

“of course.”

her eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment, and he had to think about rotten vegetables and spilled noodles in order to prevent himself for having a freaking cardiac arrest.

“that day… did you go to the airport? did you wait for me? be honest.”

hesitation. silence. both of those spoke louder than actual words. “yeah.”

“i knew so,” she whispered before giving him the warmest hug he’d received from someone in years. her arms snaked around his torso, her face buried in the crook of his neck, moving it to the side slightly to plant small, short pecks on his cheeks, one of her hands coming up to caress his curls. “i’m sorry.”

(it would get you so)

we could be the greatest, it doesn’t matter if we’re never rich or famous

“mr. laurie laurence, i respectfully bow,” she joked after ‘little women’ came to an end, the lights in the theater turning on as voices began filling the room. timmy had brought her with him to watch the premiere, which she’d so much loved. she’d even cried when jo rejected laurie’s proposal, though she’d already read the book and knew it was coming. she couldn’t help but admire timothee’s talent, how good he’d portrayed laurie. she’d even met saoirse ronan, the fucking legend.

“i take it as you liked it?” timmy asked with a playful smirk, nudging her shoulder.

“liked it? man, i absolutely adored it! you’re such a great actor, timo, i’m so freaking proud of you!” she squealed, giving him a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. it’d been about two months since their friendship got renewed, which was both perfect and terrible, since he’d found himself falling in love with her all over. not that he’d ever really stopped loving her anyway.

“i’ve arranged a bagel meeting with saoirse at the usual place. wanna come along? i have a feeling you’re her new favorite bestie,” timmy chuckled as he pointed at saoirse still sitting on her chair, waving at the two of them with a huge grin plastered on her face.

“oh gosh, yes, that’d be amazing.”

not even twenty minutes later, she was sitting next to timothee in their booth as saoirse kept asking her questions about how he was as a teenager, if he had more rap songs than his biggest and most known bop ‘statistics’, and things like those. she also wanted to learn things about their friendship (such as how it’d started, etc.) which was sort of uncomfortable, since neither her or timmy wanted to tell her about the fact that she’d… well. avoiding and dodging a couple of her questions, she ended up telling her about each and every one of the school plays he did in high school. little did she know she was looking awe-struck whilst she passionately described to saoirse his acting performances, not missing a single detail. it even slipped from her mouth that she’d watched his ‘prodigal son’ play at manhattan, which had caught timmy by surprise.

“you came to ‘prodigal son’?” he asked, mouth slightly agape.

“couldn’t miss it for the world.”

“but it was three or four years ago.  thought… i thought we weren’t…”

“you weren’t what?” saoirse asked, sensing they’d been hiding something from her.

“nothing!” Timothee urged, not letting her speak as his hand landed on her knee, squeezing it tightly in order to stop her from saying anything. “nothing, it’s nothing important.”

“i specifically do not believe you, but it seems like neither of you are comfortable with discussing it, so i’ll drop it. for now,” Saoirse threatened with a wink, noticing that both her and timmy’s cheeks had turned into a light shade of pink as they awkwardly exchanged nervous glances.

“so, um, did you like it? the play?”

“yes, it was mesmerizing. your performance, it was…” she trailed off and it seemed as though she’d let her mind wander to something else momentarily, “… it was stunning. you have a freaking gift, tim, your acting skills are truly inspiring. i’m so, so proud of you, my beautiful boy,” she said sweetly, cupping his cheeks with her hands and giving him a forehead kiss that nearly caused him to choke on his own damn saliva.

“you guys seem like you really love each other,” saoirse commented with a smirk.

“stop it, saoirse, you’re not playing it matchmaker today!” timothee hissed at her, only earning a chuckle from his friend that wiggled her eyebrows smugly. “this is so embarrassing, i’m sorry about her, she can be like that sometimes.”

“it’s fine, it’s not even embarrassing, don’t worry.”

high all the time, high all the time

i wanna be high all the time

Would you come with me?

five months had passed ever since they went back to being best friends. they were spending their evening together at timmy’s place, he’d cooked pizza and some sort of burnt chocolate cake that thankfully was kinda eatable. it was his first attempt into trying to cook dinner for someone, so he ended up getting nervous and almost lighted his house on fire – but it was worth everything once he saw the amused expression on her face, that giant smile of hers that had the power to make his day in a heartbeat, and of course, the bombardment of kisses he received from her.

“man, the sixteen-year-old inside me is screaming right now,” she said enthusiastically, bearing with eating some of the cake just so that she wouldn’t make him sad. “also, this thing tastes better than it looks like, i promise.”

“mmm, you might as well quit lying, i tried it myself a few minutes ago and gagged.”

“i swear, timmy, it’s not that terrible!” she laughed, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“whatever you say,” he replied, slapping her back. “so, um, why is the sixteen-year-old inside you screaming?”

“because of this,” she pointed at the food, “you, us.”

timothee’s heartbeat quickened and he looked down, letting out a weak chuckle. how ironic…

“why did you keep my clothes?”

the question slipped his mouth and she stopped chewing on the cake, frozen. her eyes traveled up and scanned his for a second. she gulped and shrugged her shoulder, clicking her tongue. “i don’t know, i guess it was the only thing remaining from you. some of your sweaters still smell like you, which sounds weird and creepy. i have this black one of yours that has mickey mouse faces all over it, it’s adorable. you were wearing it when we went to paris, when we went to the louvre. sometimes i still like to wear your clothes because they give me those feels of warmth and comfort. plus, i’ve cried endless nights on them, so they’re now my property. don’t even consider trying to get them back.”

at that point, his heart had leapt out of his chest.

he didn’t even know what to say, how to reply to her – the english vocabulary seemed way too poor to describe what he felt for once more. though it was seemingly unhealthy for him to think like that, he couldn’t help that tiny amount of hope that had formed into him, hope that there was still another chance to… no.

“stop eating that cake, you’re gonna get sick,” was all he said, reaching to grab the fork from her hands as she continued to stuff her mouth with the burnt dessert. she shook her head negatively and proceeded to get the fork back from him.

“i want to go to the living room,” she said, gulping down the last piece of the cake victoriously.

“watch a movie with me?”

“no, i just wanna go to the living room.”

“okay…” timmy replied with uncertainty. the two of them got up from their seats and sat themselves on the couch, where she crawled to timmy’s side, arms wrapped around his waist, her head placed on his chest (she could hear how fast his heart was beating against her ear, which made her smile a little). he was hesitant at holding her, his whole body stiff, arms glued to his sides.

“hug me back, tim, i don’t bite.”

he did as she said, all the worries and fears disappearing the moment he let himself inhale the intoxicating smell of her rose oil and peach shampoo that nearly drove him to the edge. he let his eyes close for a few seconds, daydream about how his seventeen-year-old self would have gotten a hard-on instantly if something like that had happened a few years ago.

“are you smelling my hair?” she asked, making him freeze, mortified.

“i…”

“didn’t mean for it to come out like that, it’s okay, you can smell my hair.”

she snuggled even closer to his chest and raised her chin up to look at him. her beautiful eyes caught his gaze. she muttered a soft ‘timmy’, it came out like a whisper, but she noticed that his ears perked up, biting the inside of his lip. he stared at her for a second, before turning towards the ceiling and then back to her. his eyes flickered down to her lips, and she felt her heart jump into her throat. though it was only for a brief second, it was obvious enough for her to understand what he wanted.

“i like it when you call me that,” he spoke after a moment. timothee shifted a little, leaning towards her, his thumb grazing against her neck. her eyes closed, the rest of her senses heightened as his nose brushed against hers, then his forehead. neither of them knew how they got there exactly, but it wasn’t like they cared anyway. her hands came up to the back of his neck, almost playing with his curls, and there was a moment where he leaned in, their lips almost touching. he was chewing on his bottom lip like he was holding himself back, but then he just closed his eyes and buried his face on the crook of her neck.

“timothee hal chalamet,” she said sternly, her hands cupping his cheeks and bringing his face back to its previous position, his breath was feathery against her lips, and she sighed longingly, leaning in closer. all rational thought was gone, all that mattered was timothee, his eyes, his mouth, the way he was looking at her like he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss her.

leaning in closer, the smell of him surrounding her, she placed a very soft kiss to his lips, closing her eyes again and putting her hand on his face. he slid one hand slowly up her thigh, pressing closer and applying more pressure to her mouth. they stayed still for a few seconds, breathing each other in before begging to move. he kissed her slowly, so very slowly, his movements tentative and full of desire. his other hand encircled her waist to tug her closer, and she sighed against his mouth. timmy shuddered at the sound he made, pulling away from the kiss, staring at her, his lips damp with saliva.

“mmm, wait, wait, hold up,” he groaned, eyes still closed as he cupped her cheeks, bringing her back to his eye level. “what’s happening? what are we doing?”

she scanned his gaze for a second and tilted her head to the side. “okay, here goes nothing,” she took a deep breath and caressed his cheek as timothee leaned into her touch. “i’m in love with you, timmy. i think i’ve always loved you, i was just too scared to admit it to myself or something, which is not an excuse, and i’m a fucking piece of shit, honestly. when you said you loved me, it rocked my world. i was too shook and pushed you away, so… i don’t think i deserve you. at all.”

“hey, no, don’t say that,” he cut her off softly, running his fingers through her hair.

“it’s true, though, you deserve so much better than me.”

“you,” he squished her cheeks together, her lips now looking as though they were posing for a duck face photo, and gave her a quick kiss. “i never stopped loving you. and don’t put yourself down like that, you may have broken my heart once, but that belongs to the past. i want you to be my boyfriend and i’ll be your girlfriend – shit, no, i didn’t say that right – i want us to be in a relationship. i love you so much and it’d mean the world to me if you let me be your boyfriend.”

she chuckled and kissed him forcefully and with purpose this time. he kissed her back eagerly, daring her to take it further. she groaned, unable to hold it back, and slipped her tongue slowly into his mouth. the two of them grew closer together as time seemed to fade away. before either of them knew it, timmy’s hand had traveled up her shirt, as hers was tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

both of them shared shaky breaths as he slowly curved his hand around her breast, his touch was as light as a feather, and she placed her hand on top of his, silently giving him the okay to feel her. soon enough, his hands were adorned on her hips, both of their lips already swollen from making out.

“i don’t know why this took me so damn long,” she whispered after breaking the kiss.

“but it’s finally happening,” timothee added with a smile.

“it is,” she kissed him again, just a small peck on the lips. “are you ever going to forgive me? truly?”

“in fact you haven’t noticed…” he murmured quietly against her neck, where he’d buried his head, peppering soft kisses at the length of it, “…i’ve forgiven you a long time ago.”

if you can just let me know if it’s okay

to call you when i’m lonely

FIN.

[thearvariblues]

The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

*

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

*

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

*

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

*

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

*

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

*

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

*

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

*

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

*

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

*

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

*

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

*

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

*

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

*

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

*

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

*

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

[shemarmooresfedora]

Can’t Be Your Secret Anymore

Summary: You hardly expected the next time you saw Spencer after your big fight is him coming out of an ambulance on a stretcher.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Nurse!Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: one swear word, arguing, hospitals, fluffy ending!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: this is an anon request!!! anon, i hope i did your wonderful request justice! my asks are always open for anything (random concepts, full-fleshed ideas, or just random thoughts/questions)

Masterlist

“Sorry, I’m home late, sweetheart. The team wanted to go out for drinks after work and then Savannah wouldn’t let me leave until I did karaoke,” Spencer chuckled, “Luckily, she was drunk enough that I slipped out without ever having to fulfill my promise.”

Spencer’s smile faded once he realized you weren’t smiling too.

“Why did Savannah get to go but I can’t? We have been dating longer than her and Derek,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Baby, it’s not the same thing…” Spencer began to say.

You shot up from the couch, “It is too the same thing, Spencer. I have asked you at least 5 times to meet your team and you always say it’s not the right time. When will it be the right time, Spencer? A year? Ten? I can’t wait around until you decide I’m good enough for your friends,” you began walking around his apartment, collecting your things.

“No, Y/N. Please stay. You can meet them! You can meet them, I swear! Please don’t go,” Spencer desperately begged.

“I never wanted a pity invite,” you sighed, “Goodbye, Spencer. Call me if you would finally like to commit to me for once.”

The gentle closing of his apartment door cracked Spencer’s heart in half. He snuck out early from the bar in hopes of being cuddled up with you but now he was all alone.

-

A week. It had been a week since you walked out of Spencer’s apartment only to be met with radio silence. If you were being honest, you hadn’t really expected Spencer to make no attempt to get back together with you. But if he really didn’t want you back, you needed to start moving on with your life.

“Y/N, we’ve got an incoming ambulance,” Linda, the other on-call ER nurse said, snapping you out of your daze.

You jogged out to the ambulance bay, suiting up with rubber gloves.

The ambulance screeched to a halt outside the entrance as the paramedics unloaded the stretcher.

“White male. Early 30’s. GSW to the neck. Pulse is thready,” the paramedic stated.

The patient’s eyes opened slightly for just a second and they locked with yours.

“Spencer,” you whispered under your breath as his eyes closed again.

You and Linda rolled him up the OR before returning back to the ER floor. You took a seat at the desk and put your head in your hands. You were trying to control your breathing because being in the elevator with your barely alive ex-boyfriend was not how you expected this night to go.

“Do you know Reid?”

Your head snapped up to the muscular man that travelled in the ambulance with him.

“What?” you asked, even though you heard him the first time.

“It sounded like you said ‘Spencer’ when you pulled him out of the ambulance. I was just asking if you knew him,” Derek said.

“Um, kind of. We have a mutual friend so I’ve seen him around but I really don’t know him that well,” you lied.

It pained you to say that you didn’t know Spencer well at all when he was fighting for his life in surgery but then again, did you really? The mutual friend technically wasn’t a lie because you guys were set up by Patricia, a librarian, because you were the only two people under 60 that came into the library regularly.

Derek didn’t seem to be convinced but he nodded and stepped away regardless.

When the head surgeon working on Spencer came out, you purposely pretended to be doing a task close to where his whole team had gathered.

“Dr. Reid is expected to make a full recovery,” you heard, you let out an instant exhale of relief, “He is in Room E105 if you would like to see him now.”

Shit. That was the wing you were in charge of post-op for. The surgeon found you and handed you the clipboard of Spencer’s file before returning back upstairs.

You slowly made your way to the room. Thank god, you could see he was still unconscious through the door. You knocked lightly on the open door to alert the team of your presence.

“Hi, I’m Nurse Y/L/N. I’m in charge of Spenc-I mean Dr. Reid’s post-op. I just need to check his vitals real quick,” you informed them.

A blonde woman with bright bold clothing that you assumed was Penelope, based on what Spencer told you, backed away from Spencer to give you room to work, “Do whatever you need to do, sweetheart.”

That sent a pang through your chest. Spencer always called you ‘sweetheart’ but maybe that was just because he could never bring himself to call you ‘love’.

“He’s all set. I’ll be back in an hour,” you flashed a polite smile before quickly leaving the room that felt like it was suffocating you.

“Thank you!” Penelope called after you.

-

An hour later, you picked up Spencer’s clipboard once again and headed to his room, stopping in your tracks when you saw he was awake.

You made brief eye contact before you whipped around and speed-walked back down the hall.

“Linda, can you take my patient in E105 please?” you pleaded.

“Is it super gross?” she cringed.

“No, it’s just someone I’d rather not talk to right now. It’s just a vital check for a post-op GSW,” you informed her, “I’ll let you take an extra 5 minutes on break and I’ll do all the bedpan changes.”

“Fine,” Linda grabbed the clipboard and headed to Spencer’s room.

Linda decided to take her slightly longer break right after doing Spencer’s post-op. So when his ‘call nurse’ button started rapidly going off, you had no one to turn to.

You sprinted down the hallway to his room and quickly opened the door to see him sitting up, perfectly fine with the remote in his hand.

“Are you dying?” you asked flatly.

“Without you, yes I am,” Spencer replied.

You rolled your eyes and let out a humorless chuckle before heading to the door once again.

“Wait, Y/N!” he urged.

You didn’t turn around until you heard a ripping sound followed by a loud ‘ow’. When you turned around, you saw Spencer had pulled his bandage half off.

“Spencer! Why did you do that? I have other patients to tend to,” you grabbed the roll of gauze on the table.

“Now you have to listen to me as you reapply my gauze,” Spencer explained.

“Where did your team go? Can’t you bother them?” you huffed.

“You met them?”

“Don’t worry. I said I barely knew you through a mutual friend. I know how terrible it would be for you if they found out you were dating me,” you assured him.

“No, no! That’s not what I want. I want to scream from the rooftops that you’re my girlfriend. I just get scared that once we make it official to everyone, it will be even harder when I lose you,” Spencer admitted.

“Why do you think you’re going to lose me?”

“Because you’re way out of my league. Sometimes I still think you’re just a figment of my imagination and this couldn’t possibly be real,” Spencer confessed.

“Spencer, you’re a hot genius FBI agent. If anybody is out of anybody’s league, it’s you.”

“And you’re a hot ER nurse who probably saves more lives than I do on a daily basis and...I love you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, he finally said it. A sign of commitment.

“I love you too,” you spoke softly, gently pressing down the last strip of gauze on his neck.

You heard chattering approaching and the whole team appeared at the door with food and drinks in their hand.

“Alright, Dr. Reid,” you shot up from the edge of the bed, “Your gauze is all set. Press the button again if you have any other complications. Enjoy your dinner. Remember only jell-o or soup,” you headed to the door.

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer grabbed your wrist before you got very far and then interlocked your hand with his, “Guys, this is my beautiful and amazing girlfriend, Y/N, who I love very much.”

“Um-hi,” you waved.

Derek looked between the both of you and grinned.

“We were just going to have some dinner if you would like to join us, Y/N,” Penelope offered.

“Sure! Let me just tell Linda I’m taking my break,” you smiled.

You tried to leave again but Spencer still wouldn’t let your hand go.

“Spence, I’ll be right back,” you promised.

“I need a kiss before you go,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning down to give him a loving kiss that made up for all the kisses you lost over the past week.

taglist (just ask to be added or removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana

[lebenspurpur]

What about how would slashers propose their s/o? :3

How would the slashers propose:

Michael Myers

Michael wouldn't.

As funny as that sounds, I'm pretty sure Michael doesn't understand marriage and its concept at all.

After all.. who'd marry you? A deranged serial killer and his spouse.. pretty difficult to find a priest for that kind of couple.

If anything, he'd propose to show that he cares. Michael isn't the best at showing emotions and a proposal would be his personal way of showing that he does adore you.

It would probably be nothing big though. He'd just hand you a stolen ring and then march off, leaving you alone with your confusion.

Are you ever getting married? Probably not but he'll wear a ring similar to yours if you'd like.

Vincent Sinclair

Oh, Vincent will try his hardest to be as romantic as he can be.

Dozen of candles, hundreds of roses, and he'll actually wear an old suit he found in Bo's wardrobe!

His brothers will be out of town, driven out by your big lover.

He'll make dinner for you. It might taste a little interesting, considering his below-average cooking skills, but hey the idea alone is so adorable.

After dinner, he'll sink down on one knee and you just freeze.

He's super nervous too! What if you don't want to marry him? What if he's too fast and you're not ready for that commitment yet?

The ring will be from a victim but he polished and perfected it himself. He'll design it like his knives, dragons wrapping around the gemstone in the middle.

As soon as that "yes" leaves your lips, he inflates, probably ready to pass out.

Bo Sinclair

Bo.. doesn't necessarily want to marry.

But he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, that's for sure.

You're something he doesn't deserve and yet you're here, with him.

Bo won't be as romantic as his twin, that's not really his strategy.

He'll most likely blurt out his proposal while he's watching TV and make it seem like the most normal thing ever, even though he's frightened on the inside.

If you ask him what he said, he'll repeat it real quietly and you swear he's turning red.

Say yes and Bo will actually flash a big grin, a real one, not his usual smirk, finally pulling you closer to seal his lips with yours.

He can't believe someone would marry him but you wanted to, and he'd always deem that a miracle.

Lester Sinclair

Oh god, Lester will be so nervous.

He has everything: the ring, a nice suit, a romantic dinner but what if he fucks it up?

He even wrote a note containing a few words of his "speech" so he won't forget it.

So it's after dinner and he kneels down, nearly tripping on his open shoelace, and.. uh fuck what'd he want to say???

He can't find his note! Lester is now panicking.

Your reassuring smile grounds him again and he somehow manages to finish his proposal without fainting. How? Lester doesn't know, he has no recollection of what happened.

The ring will be from a victim but he got Vincent to make it prettier. He feels really bad about it as well, please tell him that that's okay!

Baby Firefly

Oh, Marriage? A big, pretty white dress? Sign her the fuck up.

Okay, being with you for the rest of her life is really nice as well.

She's probably talking to Mama when the subject first emerges and she just freezes in excitement.

She's soon skipping down the stairs, calling out your name.

"Y/N LET'S GET MARRIED!"

You don't even have a choice, she will marry you whether you like it or not.

I doubt that she'll even ask you the question, it'll just be a determined "We're getting married." and she's gone again, probably planning for the wedding.

A ring will be there though. She probably stole it but oh well.

Otis Driftwood

Marriage? *Insert him scoffing.*

Yeah no, he's too edgy for that.

However, he is down to invent his own kind of marriage for you.

But you're not getting a ring, oh no.

Otis is showing up with a collar. And it has his name on it.

After he's given it to you, he'll just hold a 15-minute speech about how you belong to him and how this collar will show everyone.

If you say yes afterward he'll be confused. This wasn't a question.

Billy Loomis

Oh Billy has it all planned out... and it can go both ways.

It's either a super romantic, high-school sweetheart-like proposal with flowers, a cute ring, balloons, and all that boring stuff or...

He dresses up as Michael Myers and jumps out at you, scaring you to death, just to hold a ring and propose to you.

I can see him totally scaring the shit out of you the whole evening just to make your proposal a special one.

Stu also helps him which makes you question which of the two you're really marrying.

Stu Macher

Stu will propose in his own way, to be frank, everything he does is done in his own way.

He'll be quite sweet actually, taking you out on a Ferris wheel to ask the question.

He's serious about the whole thing but he doesn't quite show it.

He makes it seem as if this whole thing does nothing to him so you can't see how nervous he is.

After you say yes he'll still act cool but the shake in his voice gives him away.

If you cry, he'll tease you for years so be careful.

Brahms Heelshire

The only idea Brahms has of proposal and marriage is from the books he's read. And those are either porn magazines or some old romance novels from way before our time.

He'll wear a suit. You don't even know where he got it from, it's astonishingly old.

There's no dinner or anything, Brahms can't cook and after all, that's your job.

He'll give you flowers though!

And his grandmother's proposal ring that he found somewhere in the mansion. He just can't buy his own so he has to improvise.

If you say yes he'll smile excitedly and jump into your arms. He's not getting off too, you have to carry him now.

Sometimes he forgets how tall he is.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas will marry you pretty early into the relationship.

After all, his family is very religious and you know what they say, no sex before marriage kids. I doubt that Thomas will obey that rule but let's pretend-

Luda will help him with everything he needs, she'll even get Hoyt and Monty to leave the house with her for a night so you two have some privacy!

Thomas will be very nervous and you very confused. Thomas never stopped working unless it was something important.

You'll eat and have a nice time, you can finally spend some time with your lover and this time, not in the basement. He even takes his mask off, just for you.

After dinner he'll clear his throat and actually say the whole proposal out loud. This is important and Thomas doesn't want to ruin this just because he doesn't want to talk.

He could never ruin anything but he's insecure like that.

If you say yes he's going to grin brightly and just pick you up, spinning you around until he actually kisses you, once again feeling so grateful for you in his life.

Josef

Marriage isn't that important to him so he takes a while to even think about that idea.

Of course, a life filled with you is absolutely amazing in his opinion but he trusts that you won't leave him, with or without a promise binding you to him.

After a bit of thinking, he decides to do it just for the gesture.

He'll buy a ring that he thinks fits and then plan a nice dinner with a few candles, red wine, expensive food, all that shit.

Josef is an amazing cook so that food will be to die for.

After eating, he'll intertwine your hands with his and look into your eyes, quietly bringing up the whole idea of marriage.

If you seem interested and I mean positively interested, he'll pull out the ring, surprising you like always.

Say yes and Josef will get quite emotional, never did he think someone would actually marry him.

He might cry but one word about that and you'll get the silent treatment.

you'll get a gif, as a treat

Amanda Young

Marriage? Uh, not for her.

Amanda hates the whole idea of marriage, stupid love-sick couples marrying just to break up and divorce a year later, leaving children to grow up in an environment that's shaped by isolation and abandonment.

However, she's not against a ring to show that she's never going to leave you.

Amanda will make one for you, yes you heard me, make.

It's so important to her, anyone else but her would fail her.

It takes a while but seeing your happy tears after she gave and explained it to you makes everything worth it.

She'll often admire it, sitting so perfect on your finger.

You're hers and hers alone.

You can't see it but she's smiling.