#sick ESPECIALLY when it is my loved one himself who KNOWS how scared shitless we all are. it fucking hurts so bad. fuck covid. FUCK covid.

[ghoulish-art-tendencies]

Opinions about the movie it: Specifically, about Richie and Eddie and their whole deal. and How they defeat Pennywise the first time.

Also have you read the book?

SPOILERS AHEAD, in can you could not have guessed.

Okay so IT. IT is one of my top 3 movies of all time (if not all time) in which I watched it about 5 times in a week when I first got into it. (I also have not read the book yet but I have been planning on it for a while, just need to get my hands on it.) I really enjoyed it personally, and I don't think it is that scary anymore, but I was originally scared shitless the first time I tried to watch it years ago when I was not into horror yet. Even though it was made in 2017, it still has that 80s horror feel to it that I love, and I love the dynamic between the group of 7 in the first movie.

Now buckle up, because I am about to go full on special interest on this ask and yap about its inherent queerness and how it affects the story line and how it could've been used more.

Richie, Eddie, and the inherent queerness between the two. It was very clear that Richie, if not Eddie as well, were very much implied to be interested in each other.

But more specifically Richie. I honestly wish they did more with them, but it was very clear that they were a duo; a pair within the original group of 4. Putting it out now: I have not actually seen IT Chapter 2 all the way through as I kept crying over Stanley's death, and I honestly was extremely disappointed in how they handled the film as a whole, and the decline in quality. So, my information may not be entirely correct, but in the end of IT chapter 2, we see a clip of Richie carving he and Eddie's initials into the bridge. As well as I believe when Eddie dies later in the film, Richie tries to go back to get his body/doesn't want to leave him behind. Richie was obviously head over heels for him from the start to finish, and you could tell. From the constant bickering; teasing; borderline obsession that he had for Eddie. In the book, I believe Richie would also call Eddie "Eddie Spaghetti" multiple times, don't quote me though. All of this to say, Richie loved Eddie. A LOT. To the point that in the second movie Richie was out as gay but STILL hadn't found a lover, whilst we see both Stanley, Bill, and Eddie married, as well with Beverly with a boyfriend (in the beginning of the film, at least). I am not saying that some of these relationships are healthy by any means (especially Eddie's which I will explain soon), but it goes to show that many of the people from the core 7 found relationships, and yet Richie did not.

Now Eddie is slightly more complicated, as all throughout IT we see the toxic relationship between his mother, and how she gaslit him into believing he was sick all the time. This would then later end up with him marrying someone else very similar to his mother who treated him very much the same. Then, at the end where he ends up dying, it ends very tragically where his whole life he had to live with people being very controlling over him and him never getting to experience that freedom he deserved. I bring this up because in IT, we see near the end where Eddie is told that his medication are placebos, and he tells his mother he's tired of her trying to keep him away from his friends. He realised there that he was happier and more free when he was with his friends, and (though not said) specifically Richie as well in my opinion. Richie was unabashedly himself, and wasn't afraid to be weird with his friends. I know it is strongly theorised that Richie is ADHD as well, which could also play a part. All the while both Stan and Bill are more reserved in my opinion, both as Bill was self-conscious because of his stutter, and Stanley being bullied for being jewish (both of which we see happen in the beginning of IT). Eddie felt more comfortable around his friends, and specifically Richie because he truly did not care enough about acting weird. Though I believe it is never actually shown that Eddie had a romantic interest in Richie, I strongly believe it could've been something if the writers allowed it.

Now, Eddie and Richie's interactions with each other (in the first movie, because as I have said I have not seen enough of the second movie to speak on it much). Many times, we see specifically Richie and Eddie interacting. To be honest, they are probably the 2 people we see interacting the most throughout the entire movie. One scene I want to bring up specifically, which took me multiple watches to catch, is that at I believe the Derry festival, Richie comes back with 2 ice cream cones, and gives one to Eddie. Now, whether Eddie had directly asked him to get him a cone, or Richie just buying it for him, I think it shows just how much Richie did care about him. I think it shows a little bit of how they interact with each other when we don't see them (on camera). And sure, you can buy ice cream for your friends, but would you not also either ask if anyone else wanted one? You could make the argument that he couldn't carry it but it doesn't disprove the fact Richie specifically bought ice cream for Eddie, which shows how he cared for him.

Richie and Eddie are also constantly bickering back and forth. From when Eddie is trying to help Ben after getting stabbed and him telling Richie to shut up with the silly voices, or in the sewer scene where Richie constantly bickers to Eddie about him being afraid to enter. You can obviously see Richie being the comedic relief, but always more-so to Eddie. To me, I interpret this as him seeing that Eddie is almost always on edge, and trying to distract him to make sure he's happier. And while we do see Eddie get annoyed at Richie, I don't think we ever truly saw him get angry at him or be upset, other than slightly annoyed or exasperated.

I know l am yapping, but to answer your next question about how they defeated pennywise the first time, I think Richie and Eddie's relationship still play a fairly large role. They learn that in order to defeat Pennywise, they have to stop being afraid. We see Richie constantly worry about Eddie when in the house, and basically stuck to his side. In the scene where they are in Bill's garage and watching the projector, when Pennywise shows up on it, we see in the background Richie grabbing onto Eddie, and Eddie grabbing onto him. In a moment of fear, they automatically reached towards each other. This to me they they feel most safe when they are together/close. This makes me think that Richie was really the one that helped Eddie be brave enough to face Pennywise and defeat him. While I think Richie was able to be brave enough to defeat Pennywise because he not only cares about the group but also wanted to keep Eddie safe.

All of this to say; Richie and Eddie were very much implied to be queer (in the movies); even more-so when Richie was confirmed to be gay in the second movie. I really wish that we got to see Richie and Eddie get together to not only have that queer representation, but because I honestly think it would have been a healthy relationship, like it was in the beginning. Richie constantly distracting and teasing Eddie; then comforting each other in times of fear; doing little things for the other. They both cared about each other a lot and I am truly disappointed on the fact we never got to see a happy ending for Eddie, where after years of being in an abusive relationship where Eddie is made to be dependent on the people that are supposed to be your most trusted, he just, dies. We never get to see him get out of those relationships and find someone better (AKA Richie). I truly think the story of Richie and Eddie after IT Chapter 2 could have been its own movie or mini series/book (even though it wouldn't have been). To see Richie be in contact with Eddie again and maybe help him realise he's in an abusive relationship and help him get out of it. At that point it doesn't when have to be romantic but just a deep and intense love for wanting the other to be happy. It would have made a great ending of 2 characters finally finding happiness in each other again after years of struggling.

So there. You asked about my opinion of IT and here it is. This took me like an hour as I immediately started writing after getting this ask, but I enjoyed it. It's nice to finally put my thoughts on this movie into a (hopefully) coherent analysis. Even if like 1 person reads this lol I am happy I got the opportunity to yap about my all time favourite movie. :D Thanks for the ask, and again, sorry about the excessive yapping.

[maryhadalittlehobby]

No liveblog for the first episode so have this little recap/review.

E1 "What can the damned say to the damned"

E2"Do you know what it means to be loved by Death"-livebog

Off the bat these light hearted smooth Jazz had me like huh? oh this gonna be different huh?

What is the significance of them perching on this statue. It looks like its of Pegasus-the winged horse in greek mythology but it also looks like it has another part to it. Now in one myth he was born from the blood of a beheaded woman!! Forshadowing?

I could listen to Louis speak in his Nola accent ALL DAY. Jacob love you are killing it. HospiTAL

Another interesting thing-he is losing his French after only 5+ years?Something something about distancing himself from Lestat

Also I hope that Staten Island reference was a nod to our other favorite vamps who live in Staten Island

my girl is a thief lol

"You tell me what it is to be a woman and Ill tell you what it is to be a woman " Ok COOK Claudia

Gauche!! our first looks and words from our coven!

Loumand keep repeating that they have been together 77 years . We get it babes. Daniel feels that way too. And the slight to Lestat-thats FORTY SEVEN more than he spent with him. So proud of that lol

THEY ARE DAMN NEAR SITTING ON TOP OF EACH OTHER!

Claudia and Louis really were damn baby birds. How the hell did they not sense these vampires stalking them in the open a few feet away lol

Louis little neck tie I cant!

Is that how you sell yourself yourself 🤝🏾A lie I told myself about myself

"Yeah" I like how both Louis and Armand later mimic Eric's voice saying it

"I don't know what I need- Maybe a new brain in my head" omg can they stop!! I do not want this!

My Louis is happy. Or at least not sad. And it looks good on him!

Claudia and Madeline's first interaction Its funny how its so antagonistic

I love how Claudia has PURPOSELY chosen to butcher the French accent. We see she can master languages and accents easily from their time in easter Europe. Another FU to Lestat. He would hate it lol

Why is Louis sooooo loopy in Dubai lol Is it the Sun? Is he fighting off the dead sleep? Something is up. Our young friends

I was a rougher thing🤝🏾 I was and armored thing

WHERE are the BRAVE MEN I WAS PROMISED?!

This background blur perspective bro. Something is WRONG is this Armand fucking with us too

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT (for amand at least) Im sick Louis looks scared shitless lol

I LOVE that lavender dress especially without the caplet

SANTIBABY has arrived and I'm sat! That monologue! it rivals Jacobs confession booth!

I have a mighty need to cosplay him Im sorry

Louis looking lovingly at Claudia as she enjoys the theatre mirroring Louis lovingly looking at Lestat as he enjoyed the Opera. Kill me now

Louis thinking WHY DO YOU DO THIS SANTIAGO?

Eglee being a astrology girly is so funny

Daniel KILLED me with his telenovella spiel

Vermouth and annihilation. Vermouth is said to tastes light, florally and even medicinal. Annihilation means complete destruction so aka Lestat tastes nasty lol. I wonder if Louis would agree. We cut from them quickly so...

Louis being surprised by Armand's tirst with the father and son!

I want to lick these two. We got to stay away from Estelle if we can😂

She felt their lust!oh man what was she feeling when Louis and Lestat were NM

Roget said :or maybe Lestat is sleeping" Does he know he is a vampire?! Has that knowlege been passed down through generations?

My Louis. I'm already in pieces

Sam bodied that letter reading. I fucking teared up.

But why the Brad Pit Blowout . He got his hair did in pugatorty and we can tell

LesDot de Lioncoouuurrr Ok sir we get it.

"Lestat Lestat Lestat" Daniel too?! Lol

Danny can dish it but he can't take but alsoLouis please! Leave my grandpa alone

I love how the trailers really tricked us into thinking so much. I though the letter reading scene was a revisit of the Ms Lily threesome scene. I thought the after math scene was Danny somehow driving as wedge between Loumand but it was just Louis being pissed/upset at Daniel for making a joke of his pain. And i know so many others thought the same. We really don't know shit!

Amand is Alice truthers IDK but I think Armand was there. How was could he know what Alice was thinking

Louis falling asleep might as well be him calling Santiago a buffoon lol Persona non grata- a person not favored or welcomed.

And nooo I didn't get the bottom of the Beret look for Claudia correct for my cosplay. We didn't have a full shot so I took a guess. Oh well. She is wearing dark pants for her bottoms. I wonder why she is in pants? Have they become more fashionable/acceptable for women to wear in the 40's ? Or is she rebelling against the fashion of the time?

The way I was squirming and squeeling when we first saw this estate scene at nycc 2023. I was like" am I a loumand girlie now??" I can't deny they look good together and have amazing chemistry

Another goddam beheading reference. What is this 4 now?!

My Dear American friend you are a horrible liar lol That little switch in Amands demeaner with DONT. Chills!

Louis please don't start pretending to fit in and like what these fiends are doing babes. He was so happy at the start of the episide but we leave him with a conflicted fake smile😞

This episode was WILD!I'm obsessed with the visual choices, the music choices, the jokes with the juxposition of these deeply dramatic moments. How is this all in one episode?! How did it not feel rushed with so much happening. It was brillant and has moved up to my 2nd favorite episode between both parts. I could never have predicted this tonal change. This is the best show around. I am cladia at the theatre- wide eyed and clapping furiously. Brava! Bravo!

[pepprs]

my dad might have fucking covid. about to jump off a bridge

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Three}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta sat across the kitchen table in Azriel and Elain’s kitchen, looking at her sister.

“I mean, I just don’t get it,” Nesta continued, shaking her head. “Me and Cassian… Why didn’t they choose you and Azriel? You’ve been together forever and want a big family.”

“You’re second guessing taking care of Nyx?” Elain asked, with no judgement, just curiosity.

“No, of course not,” Nesta began, sighing. “It’s just… Me and Cassian?”

“They did try to set you two up all those years ago,” Elain said, propping an elbow on the table and dropping her chin in her hand.

Nesta raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “And how well did that work out?”

Elain rolled her eyes, but sighed. “Feyre was right though,” she said, looking at the letter from Rhys and Feyre, laying face down on the table. Nesta had brought it over for Elain to read, which had just made them both start crying over again. “You have the fiercest heart. Nyx needs you in his life.”

She blinked away the tears lining her eyes again. Silently, she wondered when she’d be able to think about her sister, about Rhys again, without dissolving into tears. She knew it would be a long while.

Finally, she said, “I know he does. I just don’t understand why Cassian has to be involved. That’s not going to be a healthy environment for him to grow up in.”

She could already see it, she and Cassian at each other’s throats. He knew how to get under her skin, loved to do it, did it as often as he could. It would be all Nyx saw as he grew up, his guardians screaming at each other.

“He needs to be somewhere happy and loving and peaceful. Like here, Lainy. He’d flourish here, with you and Az and Seph.”

Elain gave her sister a long, wistful look. Her eyes were soft and misty when she said, “We’re just learning to take care of one, Nes. I can’t… We can’t take on another infant. And, besides, it wasn’t what Feyre and Rhys wanted.”

“They probably wrote that the second they got engaged,” Nesta said, knowing that wasn’t true. “They didn’t know what they wanted.” Elain glanced at the open letter that sat on the table between them. “I read it. They knew exactly what they wanted for Nyx in case something happened to them, and I think that they were right. Just because you and Cassian can’t see it doesn’t mean that it’s not a good idea.”

“The lawyer will disagree with that,” Nesta muttered, remembering Tarquin’s words from their meeting. I tried to advise them against this. She shivered. “The thought of living with Cassian and playing house has me nauseous. And pissed off. So pissed off that I’m nauseous.”

Elain sighed again. “He really is a-.”

“A good guy,” Nesta interrupted, letting her head fall into her hands. Her fingers tugged in the roots slightly. “I know. You keep telling me that. Feyre always told me that. Everyone keeps telling me that. But the two of us?” She looked up at Elain, letting her see into those eyes that matched Feyre’s perfectly, letting her see the slight panic in them, letting her see everything. “We aren’t compatible. Everything about him, it throws me off.”

A cry from down the hall had both of the women standing, but when Nesta realized it was Nyx, she hurried out of the kitchen. In a flash, she was in the spare room, crossing to the small crib Elain and Az had set up for Feyre and Rhys when they found out they were pregnant.

Nyx’s blue eyes were wide and he let out another tortured wail and Nesta tried to soothe him before he was even in her arms. “It’s okay, bubba,” she cooed, holding him against her chest. He kept crying, though the volume of his screams lessened. Instead they were more akin to what Nesta would have almost called sobs.

“It’s been a long day,” she breathed. “I think we should go home, yeah?”

She gathered his diaper bag from where it laid on the bed and when she entered the living room, Elain was sitting on the couch, reading over the letter again. Quiet tears slid down her cheeks.

“I’m gonna get him home,” Nesta said, softly. She repeated, “It’s… It’s been a long day.”

Nodding, Elain folded the letter back up and wiped at the tears on her face with the back of her hand. “Right.” She held the letter out to Nesta, who took it, careful not to jostle Nyx who had finally quieted down, though Nesta could tell he was still awake.

His little hand was pressed to the side of her neck, and she could feel it moving gently.

“Call me if you need anything,” Elain said, carefully hugging her and pressing a kiss to the top of Nyx’s head. “Az and I will help you move what you need to into the house, so don’t hesitate to ask.”

Nesta could only nod, still unsure of how she was going to do this, how she was going to live her life, while also taking care of the far more precious one in her arms. She silently left, driving home and getting Nyx inside and settled, letting him sit in the Bumbo seat she’d found in the kitchen atop the counter while she cooked dinner.

After putting him down for bed, Nesta found herself sitting on the balcony off of Rhys and Feyre’s old bedroom. She looked out into the small wood that made up their backyard, over the pool and chairs that had been set up for the approaching summer, but her eyes were drawn up to the stars that Velaris was famous for.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, not sure if she was admitting it to herself or to Rhys and Feyre, listening to her wherever they were. “I’m so scared I’ll do something wrong.”

The sounds of crickets and other manner of nighttime creatures were the only reply she received.

“I know you believed in me, in us, but I don’t. I want to make you both proud but I don’t know if I can do that. I just need something to tell me that I’m not making a huge mistake and-.

She softly gasped as a shooting star went blazing across the sky, a second one following it right after.

Her lip trembled as she nodded up at the night sky, understanding, knowing who had sent those stars. She almost felt like she could feel them there, as if they were telling her that it would be hard, but she could do it.

And she… she didn’t have to do it alone.

*

Cassian wasn’t at Az and Elain’s for thirty seconds before he crossed to the mini-fridge Azriel kept stocked in the garage.

“There’s no way they thought this was a good idea,” he said, pacing around, Azriel silently watching him. “It’s a sick joke, just like all of this is. There’s another letter somewhere that says just kidding, wouldn’t that be funny though?”

He cracked open the beer and drank it all in one go.

“I mean, Rhys and I always messed around and shit, but…this is too far,” he went on, tossing the can in the garbage and reaching for another one.

Azriel crossed his arms as he said, “Too many of those and you may think it’s funny, too.”

Cassian shot him a look as he drank from his can. “This isn’t funny. None of this is funny.”

Azriel took a deep breath before saying, “Did you stop to think that maybe they knew exactly what they were doing?”

Cassian said nothing as he propped himself on a stool and shook his head. Azriel didn’t push him. Eventually, Cassian said, quietly, “I want to help Rhys. I want to be the man that he thought I was. I mean, shit, he left me in charge of his child. And I would die for that child. But, Nesta was right, you know? I have no idea how to take care of a kid, especially one as young as Nyx.”

“You think I did, when Seph came along?” He asked, leaning back against the workbench. Cassian was as comfortable in this garage as he was his own, had created just as many beautiful things here as he had in his own cramped space. But he focused on Azriel’s words, sighed as he listened to his brother.

“I was scared shitless, but that didn’t mean a thing to her, or to Elain,” he went on. “Because they both needed me. They needed me to get my shit together and figure it out, and that’s exactly what I did.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just looked down at his feet, at his dirty work boots and silently drank from the can in his hands.

Azriel crossed the garage and pulled out a beer of his own, cracking it open and taking a drink. “So read the books, do the research, go online, do whatever you have to do, but Cassian, listen to me.”

His brother rarely used his full name, so he looked up at him, nor expecting to find the tenderness on his face or the silver lining his eyes.

“If you think for one second that Rhys and Feyre didn’t know what they were doing, you’re wrong. No one loves that little boy as much as you do. Yeah, you’re probably going to fuck up once or twice, but it’s okay.” Azriel placed a hand on his shoulder. “It happens and as long as you learn from it, that’s all that matters.”

Cassian wiped at his eye with the back of his hands. “I’m fucking scared, man.”

“I know you are,” Az replied, his voice dropping, almost gentle. “Not to mention we’re all still hurting. But you and Nesta are going to be fine, Nyx is going to be fine.”

Cassian clamped his eyes shut. He groaned. “It wouldn’t be so bad, I know I can learn to take care of Nyx, but Nesta? They expect me to live with Nesta?”

Azriel actually hesitated. “Yeah, that sucks.”

Cassian, despite himself, laughed quietly. “Yeah.”

“But, believe it or not, I think she’d be good for you,” Azriel said, keeping that quiet tone.

“Now you’re trying to set us up?” Cassian asked, wiping at his eyes and the tears that had nearly fallen.

Azriel shook his head. “No. But, Nesta Archeron gets shit done. And she loves Nyx, too. The two of you together….different parenting styles? Yeah. But, you’d be surprised at how well two opposites balance each other out when it comes to parenting.”

Cassian thought of Azriel and Elain. They were both gentle and kind, but they were pretty opposite, too.

“And if it’s a complete failure?” Cassian asked.

Azriel sighed as he watched Cassian. At last, he said, “It won’t be.”

Cassian wanted to believe him, wanting to feel confident in the words Azriel said, but even his third beer hadn’t lifted his confidence.

He let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling, at the garage door that was raised to allow the cool, night breeze in. “I have to live with Nesta Archeron. The Mother thinks she’s funny. The Cauldron is laughing at me. Fate is rubbing its hands together and laughing maniacally.”

“No,” Az chuckled. “I think that might be Rhys.”

Cassian snorted, but the door to the house opened and Elain stuck her head out. She smiled softly at Cassian, who raised his drink in greeting. “I thought I heard you out here. You gonna stay for dinner?”

His alternative was grabbing something from a drive through or searching through his fridge for something that wasn’t completely freezer burned, so he smiled and said, “Sure, Lainy. Thanks.”

She beamed at them both and the door clicked shut behind her as she turned to go back to the kitchen. Cassian looked over at Azriel to find him still smiling like a fool at the door.

He sighed quietly as he realized he would probably never have that, would never have someone he could stare after and gaze at as fondly as Azriel did Elain. Not if he was to spend his life shackled to someone who wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

As soon as he thought the words, he chastised himself, stepping out into the driveway. She was just as miserable about the whole ordeal as he was. But for Nyx, they could try and make it work. They would make it work. They would do what they had to.

He sighed, gazing up into the night sky.

Shaking his head, he wondered if there was some sort of afterlife. If there was, he wondered if Rhysand and Feyre were somewhere in the sky, looking down at him, trying to encourage him, trying to get a message to him during this horrible, hectic, anxiety-ridden unknown time.

He hoped they were.

He could use it.

That encouragement.

That love.

Cassian began raising his can to his lips, but then he froze.

A shooting star shot across the night sky.

Then another.

Cassian’s hand fell back to his side as he stared at the bright Velaris starlight, completely in awe.

They were watching, they were there with him. They were there with all of them.

Of course they were.

Cassian swore under his breath as he fully gave into the ridiculous notion of moving in with Nesta, of co-parenting with the most frustrating, stubborn woman in Prythian.

But for Nyx, he would.

For Rhysand, for Feyre, he would.

[wonunuu]

iris beauty ❀

27: little toy car

✎ synopsis: falling for a guy is never easy, especially when your best friend of many years basically claimed him; you and mina have been friends for as long as you can remember, but your loyalty and trust are tested when she asks you to pretend to be her in meeting a guy she had been talking to online and you unintentionally start to develop feelings for him.

✎ genre: romance, angst

✎ pairing: reader x yoon jeonghan

✎ word count: 1k+

✎ warnings: mentions of bullying, health conditions, death (lmk if there's more)

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Mina takes a deep breath before taking a few steps towards the boy facing away from her. Taking another breath, she builds up the courage to tap him on the shoulder. 

“Jeonghan,” Mina says, barely audible, as she stares at her feet. He turns around to face her. “It’s me, the real Mina.” 

“Hey.” is all he says before wrapping his arms around her. Mina stood there frozen, taken aback from his unexpected greeting. 

Jeonghan pulls back, reaching out his hands to put her hair behind her ear, her face now on full view. He pulls her to the bench, not too far from where they stood.

Freckles is covering her square-shaped face. She had heavy lower lips, round nose and her irises had two different colours. Her eyes were her biggest insecurity. 

When Mina was born, she was diagnosed with heterochromia iridium, a condition that causes two different eye colours in an individual. As a young child, she was never bothered by her features because her parents gave her all the love. They treated her as if she was the prettiest little girl on the planet, just as she deserves. But everything started changing when she attended school. Her classmates made fun of her everyday, and she made no friends. Until two new students transferred in sixth grade; you and Joshua. The three of you became friends rather quickly. At first, Mina was scared that the two of you would be like the others, but that fear faded away when you got involved in a fight with her bully in eighth grade, Joshua backing you up  from the side by running his mouth. He called it, “hyping YN up as she beats that rat shitless” —quite the vulgar language for a thirteen year old. 

The three of you entered high school hand in hand, and with the two of you by her side, Mina thought things would get better. But she was wrong. As the weeks went by, the bullying got worse. Everyday she would get notes in her locker stating “freak”, “get surgery” and “leave the world”. She kept it from you and Josh because she didn’t want the two of you to get dragged in her situation. The bullying went on until the last year of high school, and scared to take the next step in college, she dropped out. She didn't want you and Joshua to find out so she used an excuse by saying that the program she wanted to take was only available online. 

You and Josh only found out about the notes months later when you were going to surprise her with a room makeover. They were stashed in a box under her bed. The two of you confronted her when she got home. She explained that those notes were the reason why she dropped out, and apologized for not telling you. 

Mina went to on explaining to Jeonghan all of that—from her childhood to her high school years. She also explained to Jeonghan the reasons why she pulled that little white lie, as she called it.

“I was scared that you were going to leave me or make fun of me when you saw me,” she admitted, tears pooling in her eyes. Jeonghan sighs, “So you wanted to put my shallowness to the test?”. Mina shakes her head. “No, it’s not like that at all—I was just scared and insecure, a-and I just didn’t want you to leave. I’m so, so sorry. I know it’s very shameless of me, but I hope you can forgive me and not leave.

During those times that you met with my friend who was pretending to be me, I was always hiding behind some tree and wishing that I was in her place instead—”

“So did you actually go on the trip or not?” Jeonghan interrupts Mina. 

“What do you mean?” Mina asks, confused. 

“You said that you were always there when I met with YN. I’ve been meeting with her the past month while you were on your trip.’” Jeonghan explains, quoting on the word trip. Suddenly, Mina stands up, shock on her face.

“H-how do you know her name? I didn’t tell you her name yet, Jeonghan. A-and you’ve been meeting with her while I was gone?” At this point, Mina is yelling. 

Jeonghan tries to calm her down. “Sit, and I’ll explain what happened, or at least what I think happened.”

He tells Mina how he saw you working in the café, and that he thinks that you needed to keep pretending to rid suspicions that he had, which is true. He also explains that the reason why you couldn’t tell her right away was probably for the same reason he couldn’t talk to her himself—because Mina’s phone was locked away, which again is true.

Mina understands that part, but not the part of how Jeonghan knew your name. Hesitantly, she asked, “While the two of you were meeting, did she tell you her name? Is that why you know?”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “I actually knew her before you.” Mina is as confused as she can be. Why didn’t you tell her that you knew Jeonghan?

“But I doubt she remembers who I am though, given the fact that we’ve been meeting all this time and she hasn’t brought up anything from the past.” Jeonghan chuckles.

“When I was young, my father was very sick. We couldn’t afford to buy him medications, let alone admit him to the hospital. As time went by, my father’s condition worsened, and given our situation, I was sure that there would be no more hope. Until two medical professionals moved into town and built a clinic. The couple saw my dad during his daily walks, and they offered him a check up. My father refused because we didn’t have the money to pay, but they insisted and told him it would be done for free. 

He had free weekly check-ups after that, and he would bring me too, sometimes. It turns out the couple had a daughter, around the age of five and six. We would play together, you know? Every time my father went to his check up, I would ask him to bring me so that I could play with her. Every week we played with each other.

She would also lend me her little toy cars, and I would give them back the week later when I went back. I was so happy because I never had toys before other than wood painted to look like a car. 

The last one she lent to me was a red to car. She told me that it was her favourite and that I should take care of it. I did, and I still am. I never got the chance to give it back because… my dad didn’t need to go for his check-ups anymore. He passed away shortly after that last check-up.” 

A drop of tear fell on the back of Jeonghan’s hand, but he composed himself quickly, wiping away the tears that were about to fall.

"The mother—YN's mother—always wore this beautiful flower necklace. It was also the clinic's logo. She told me what the flower meant and how it's her favourite.

That's how I figured out YN is... YN. She wears the same necklace that her mother wore. I asked her to confirmed my suspicions, and she did. She told me how it was her mothers and how the iris was her favourite flower."

He smiles as he looks at Mina who was completely frozen, and the expression on her face, unreadable.

Mina has mixed feelings. Relief because you kept your promise on not telling Jeonghan the truth while she was gone. Anger because you didn’t tell her right away that you had been meeting without her. Lastly, jealousy; she is jealous that you and Jeonghan have some sort of connection longer than she has with him, and deeper.  

tags:

@yyxyzti @acciofirewhiskey @doiewonu @shuajeong @wooziverse @boogyuu @rjsmochii @haniehae @twentysixofmays @suhfluffy @dancingddays @lovingyu04 @sydneyy-jade @itsdnguyenxoxo @fluffyhyeju @haoraecane @dy-mglzz @1800zuho @t-secretpot @floweryjeons @yaebbinnie @t-secretpot @not-sojoyuus @xcalicoups @ryuyalana @bubblywonu @youbloominsideofme @lavenonie @winternight-wonwoo @yoonzinow @mariecoura @juji-han @strawbinnie-shortcake @isa499 @pseudoyop @serenadesvt @glouraeswei @glowingjaehyun @sunflowergyeomie @kunmaid @apricottulips @hao-ling @cheolright @pancakeandfrogs @yanniezx @jeonjungkaka @sunflower-euphro @monstathedisco

unable to tag: @tyongs @jeongjungkaka @jammyjamjamss @hauntedprincessarbiter @scoffingscully

[goth-surana]

Different Violence: Chapter Two

Main pairing: Anders/Male Hawke

Main Tags: hurt/comfort, whump, aftermath of torture

Chapter 2/3 (it grew! What can I say, chapter two got away from me)

Summary: This wasn’t the rush of battle, this was the aftermath of torture. This was methodically produced pain left in the silent air, left over after anything could be done about it. It was sickening. Hawke was a warrior, he was used to violence… but not like this.

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Anders slept restlessly, tossing and turning all night. Hawke couldn’t sleep at all, haunted by the events of that night. He felt so bloody useless, especially towards the end when he couldn’t even pull himself together and Isabela had to step in. 

Hawke had thought of himself as a strong person, but he was not strong in the face of harm to those he loved. He was frightened, scared shitless and panicked. How did Anders manage to heal him the number of times he had been in mortal peril, especially after the duel with the Arishok?

Whenever Hawke was in trouble, was hurt, Anders kept his calm and did what needed to be done. He had the iron will of a healer. Lives depended on him every day and he dealt with that, he had to watch his lover throw himself into danger countless times and he dealt with that. 

But Hawke also supposed that this wasn’t some normal danger. This wasn’t the rush of battle, this was the aftermath of torture. This was methodically produced pain left in the silent air, left over after anything could be done about it. It was sickening. Hawke was a warrior, he was used to violence… but not like this. 

Hawke sat up in bed, and looked over to see Anders peering up at him with tired eyes. Before he could think about what he was saying, he asked one simple question. 

“Who?” His voice came out scratchy, dulled.

“Who do you think?” Anders responded with the ghost of a wry smile. “Templars.”

Of course it was Templars. Deep down, Hawke had probably known it was Templars but desperately wanted it not to be Templars. Templars were so often anonymous in their helms, and so protected by the Chantry. If this had just been the Coterie or Tal-Vashoth or any other threat in Kirkwall… 

“Fuck,” Hawke whispered into the air. But his resolve held firm. “I’ll still make them pay.”

Anders’ eyebrows shot up, and he made to sit before hissing in pain and laying back down as he spoke. 

“No, Hawke, that’s too dangerous! You can’t get Meredith any more furious with you than she already is!”

“I don’t bloody care!” Hawke cursed, trying not to yell. Tears were forming in his eyes again, stupid useless tears. Tears because he was so useless. Deep down he knew Anders was right. What could he do to the Templars?

Anders regarded him with pitying eyes, and Hawke thought it was just rich that Anders was giving him pity right now. 

“Did…” Hawke’s words caught in his throat. He had to ask. He had to know, but… but this was Anders’ story to tell. 

“Did?” Anders prodded, lying back on the pillows and looking almost as sickly as he had last night. 

“What did they do to you?” Hawke asked in a whisper. 

He could tell Anders was tense. “Uh, hurt me?” He supplied, clearly a little confused. “Love, you saw what they did to me. It’s all over by body.”

“But they didn’t… they didn’t touch you? Not like…”

Fuck, this was hard to say. Maybe he shouldn’t say it. Maybe he-

“Did they rape you?” He asked before he really thought it through. The possibility was gnawing at the back of his mind. 

“No,” Anders said immediately. “No, love. They didn’t.”

“Your clothes-“

“They took them to get at my skin better, that’s all,” Ander assured Hawke. Once again, he tried to rise but fell back.

Thank the Maker. It was horrible that this had to be a fucking relief, that somehow what had happened to Anders wasn’t the worst it could be. But Hawke knew even if he had been violated, that still would have been better than dead. And even if he had died, it still would have been better than being tranquil. 

The idea of tranquility made Hawke sick. The idea that a fate worse than death was thought of as mercy, that every mage had to fear their mind being taken from them… it was horrible. Anders had once made Hawke promise to kill him if that ever happened, and Hawke had agreed with his heart in his throat. It would kill him to do it, but he would respect Anders’ wish. 

Really, what happened last night was so much better than it could have been. Anders was here, alive, with his mind intact. 

“I hate that I have to be grateful,” Hawke told no one in particular. “Grateful it wasn’t worse.”

“As do I,” Anders told him solemnly. “But nevertheless, I am. They did return me to you, as they said they would.”

“Why did they do this?” Hawke asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Because they could, love,” Anders sighed. “Because it gave them pleasure to hurt a mage they couldn’t control.”

Hawke hated this Maker-forsaken world, and especially this Maker-forsaken city. If it weren’t for Bethany, Hawke would suggest they pack their things right away and leave to a place where the Templars had less power. 

But even then, he knew Anders wouldn’t leave his clinic or the Underground. For better or for worse, Kirkwall was their home. 

“You do so much for this place,” Hawke told Anders. “You do so much and this is the thanks you get.”

Anders chuckled. “You get so angry on my behalf… I’m angry enough, you know. No need for you to be too.”

“No,” Hawke said. “No, I need to be angry because my lover was brutalized and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“There are many things we can’t change,” replied Anders. “That’s why I do what I do. To make a world where things can be different.”

“I know, I know…” said Hawke fondly. He managed a smile. “You and your crusade for justice.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded patronizing. But Anders knew Hawke supported him, loved him even more for what he did. 

“Guilty,” Anders smiled back. They looked at each other, and Hawke was flooded with relief that he could be looking into Anders’ eyes right now. 

Eventually, Hawke moved the conversation to more practical matters. “I was told by Fenris that elfroot might help the pain. He said they likely poured magebane in your wounds.”

Hawke didn’t want to make Anders recall what had happened, but it was in service of aiding his healing. 

“They did,” Anders confirmed. “I can’t say I’d ever heard of that before last night.”

“It’s common in Tevinter,” Hawke explained. “Fucked up shit magisters do to each other and all…”

This also reminded Hawke of something. “Fenris told me to tell you he hopes you recover soon.”

Anders raised an eyebrow. “He’s not happy I’m finally getting a taste of what Tevinter is like, then?”

Hawke frowned. “He would never. I keep telling you you’re more alike than you give each other credit for. No, he was quite rattled by what happened.”

Anders considered this, but didn’t reply. That was as good an answer as Hawke would probably get regarding Fenris. 

“I’ll ask Merrill to help me make an elfroot poultice,” Hawke said. “And when you’re better, you’ll have to teach me. Last night made me realize how little I know about healing. That has to change.”

Anders smiled at him. “You did well last night.”

“No I didn’t,” Hawke replied with a shake of his head. “I could barely keep it together. I couldn’t stand seeing you like that.”

Anders looked like he didn’t know how to respond, so he just looked away. 

Anders sometimes did have issues reacting to how honest Hawke was with his feelings. It was to be expected really, with how he was raised. True feelings were never spoken of in the Circle, only half truths and witty deflections. 

Anders was nervously fidgeting with the blankets, and Hawke took the opportunity to place a hand on his. 

“You’re too good to me,” Anders sighed. Hawke didn’t like when he said things like that, never had. But that was an argument from long ago, one Anders was too delicate to handle right now. He may be putting on a strong face, but he had been through trauma. 

Hawke stroked a thumb across his knuckles, hoping to coax out whatever Anders was truly feeling. 

It worked. 

“I really was scared I’d never see you again,” Anders admitted quietly. “That was almost worse than what was happening.”

Hawke didn’t say anything, just kept up his ministrations and listened. He had often found that he had to give Anders space to think through what he felt and then to work up the courage to say it. The man may be a lit fuse when it came to his cause, but any deeper hurt was always buried. 

“I hadn’t felt that scared in a long time, honestly. I couldn’t even hear Justice. I was truly alone with those bastards.”

“They’ll never touch you again,” Hawke said. 

“You don’t know that,” Anders laughed bitterly. “I didn’t even get a good look at all of them. Their leader did most of… the work. I think he almost got off on it. But anyway, what’s most likely is that we’ll be in one of your meetings at the Gallows and the bastards will be right there, sharing their private joke while we both remain oblivious.”

Hawke hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Anders was right. 

“You shouldn’t come with me anymore, if I go there.” Hawke had never liked it when he did in the first place, but Anders insisted on following Hawke into that pit of snakes. 

“Probably not, no,” Anders agreed. He sounded so defeated, so sad. 

“Who knows how Justice will react now,” Anders continued. “It’ll be even worse than it was before. I can’t know I won’t lose control.” 

That wasn’t what Hawke had been worried about. 

The two men stayed in bed, silent, for a long time. Soon after Hawke had to leave to procure an elfroot poultice, which Merrill was all too glad to help him make. 

She seemed shaken by the events of last night. 

“They really just hurt him because… they wanted to?” She asked after needling Hawke with nervous questions. 

“Yeah,” Hawke told her. 

Merrill wasn’t oblivious to the abuses of Templars, she just didn’t involve herself in Kirkwall politics as much as most mages would. 

“If you need my help getting revenge, I’ll go,” Merrill told Hawke as she handed him the finished poultice. Hawke was a bit startled by the conviction in her voice, but he nodded and thanked her. 

He didn’t even know if he would be able to enact any retribution. No Templar would be punished for his actions, especially not when apprehending an apostate. But Hawke had always operated outside the law, as everyone in Kirkwall did.

He could find out who the Templars were, there had to be a way. And if he found out who they were, he could tell them in no uncertain terms that they would die if they ever touched Anders again. 

Or maybe this was all just wishful thinking. Hawke desperately wanted to do something about what happened, he hated feeling so useless. Anders deserved some kind of… some kind of justice. 

Hawke hadn’t thought of himself as a violent man before Kirkwall. In Kirkwall, all there was was violence. All avenues of change, of changing any little thing went through violence. 

And as nice of a man as Hawke was, as charming as the nobles found him for some fucking reason, he would do what it took to defend his family.

When Hawke returned with the poultice Anders was asleep. Even then, he didn’t look at peace. His brow twitched, he whimpered slightly. 

Hawke placed a hand on his cheek, stroked gently. “Shh,” he whispered, “it’s okay.”

“S-stop, p-please,” Anders whined into the air, voice weak. 

“Love,” Hawke said out loud. He gently nudged his lover’s shoulder, hoping to wake him gently. Whatever the fade had for him, it didn’t sound good. It never was with Anders, it was always Darkspawn or Templars or a cold dark cell. 

Anders shook his head, whimpered again. Hawke shook his shoulder a little harder this time, trying not to agitate the wounds but unable to let Anders stay in whatever torment his mind created. 

Anders gasped as his eyes opened, and then looked at Hawke. Panic turned to relief, and he slumped back against the pillows. 

“I brought the poultice,” Hawke told him. He wanted to say something about the nightmare, but often Anders didn’t want to talk about it. 

Anders nodded, and began to push the covers down. Hawke helped the rest of the way, and his heart ached at the sight laid out before him. 

Anders reached to undo one of the bandages, but Hawke caught the hand in his. “I’ll do it,” he said. Anders acquiesced with another small nod.

The wounds on his chest were still angry and red, but at least the wounds were healing. 

“How long until you get your magic back?” Hawke asked as he dipped a hand in the poultice. 

“Probably another day,” said Anders. “They gave me a lot of magebane, so I can’t be sure.”

Hawke applied the poultice gently to the first cut, feeling Anders flinch beneath him. 

“Sorry,” Hawke said for what felt like the thousandth time. Hawke kept going, applying the substance gently and slowly, trying his best not to aggravate the wounds he uncovered.

Anders watched him the whole time, surveying his own wounds in an almost detached manner. 

Eventually he did begin to relax, the elfroot taking effect. 

“Will these scar?” Hawke asked as he put away the supplies and re-tied  the bandages. “Or will you be able to heal them in time?”

“The one on my thigh might, but the others are shallow. If I get my healing back tomorrow I can just fix them the rest of the way, and that should prevent scarring.”

Good. Hawke didn’t want to have to be reminded of last night every time he saw Anders without a shirt, and he suspected Anders felt the same way. Hawke already didn’t like the sight of the massive sword wound on his lover’s chest, which apparently would have been fatal if not for Justice. 

“I don’t know what I should be doing with myself right now,” Anders said to no one in particular. “Justice would normally be telling me to go to the clinic or write… but I’m in no state to do either and Justice is still dull. Must be the poison.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Hawke told him, running delicate fingers across an unharmed area of skin. He had at first gone to stroke his arm, but had to stop himself. 

“Just… lie in bed?”

“Probably, yeah,” Hawke told him seriously. “That’s what people do when they’ve been injured.” Hawke didn’t say “tortured,” but that’s what he meant.

“I guess I’ve always been able to heal it right away and then walk the rest off,” Anders mused. 

Even if he did have his healing, Hawke knew this wasn’t something he could walk off. Did Anders know that yet, or was he still trying to pretend? 

The day was spent with Hawke in bed talking with Anders, trying to alleviate his boredom. Hawke could tell it bothered Anders that he couldn’t hear Justice, so he tried to take his mind off of it.

Eventually the poultice began to wear off, and Anders winced in pain whenever he moved. 

“Let me redress the wounds,” Hawke offered. 

Anders nodded and lay back with a huff. 

“I want a bath,” he complained as Hawke began to work the poultice over his chest wounds. 

“Those tunnels were bloody filthy. I know you already cleaned the wounds, but the rest of me still feels…Well, still feels like I got pushed around on a dirty stone floor…”

He said that with indifference, irreverence, but it made Hawke’s heart freeze. That was another detail Hawke hadn’t known before, another element his mind could add to the mental picture of what happened. 

Through the thundering in his chest Hawke heard Anders call his name. 

Hawke looked over quickly, and realized he had frozen in his task. 

“What?” Hawke asked, trying to shake off what his mind was showing him. 

“You just went away for a second,” said Anders. He had so much worry in his eyes for someone who shouldn’t be worrying about others right now.

“Sorry.”

Anders gave him a searching look. “It’s okay if… well, it’s okay if you’re not okay. I’m sure last night wasn’t fun for you either.”

Hawke’s heartbeat still thrummed fast, he still felt the pit in his stomach. This wasn’t about him, why did it hurt so much?

“You’re okay now,” Hawke settled on saying. “That’s what matters.”

“But you were still hurt.”

“Love, you were hurt. You were tortured.”

The word hung in the air, and Hawke realized now that this was the first time either of them had plainly called it what it was. Torture. 

“Many mages have gone through torture,” Anders said calmly. “It was just my turn, I suppose.”

When the bastards at the Circle locked him away for a year that had been torture too, but Hawke didn’t want to bring up any more painful memories. 

“It’s still fucked up,” Hawke said, barely a whisper. He felt his eyes well up with tears, tried to will them away. 

How could Anders lay there and downplay what had happened, write it off as just another thing that happened to mages? How was Anders so messed up, so used to his shit lot in life that he just played it off when this happened? Was this Justice’s influence, thinking that others had it worse? 

Hawke loved Anders more than anything, but sometimes he was infuriating. Sometimes Hawke was just baffled at how he laughed away what he had gone through, how he pushed down his own distress until it consumed him. Would he push this down too?

Anders was easy to love, but loving him was hard. It was hard because loving him meant someone you loved had been hurt over and over again, in ways you can’t begin to heal. 

Tears were sliding down Hawke’s cheeks now, his breathing hitched. All he could think about was last night, and how last night would not be the end of it. Even if somehow Anders truly did just walk this off, the sight of Anders screaming in pain and covered in gashes from literal torture would haunt Hawke until he died. The feeling of being utterly powerless would haunt Hawke until he died. So many things already did.

“Just let it out,” Anders encouraged softly. “You don’t have to be strong around me. Wasn’t that what you said to me last night?”

It was, but it was also hard advice to follow. However, Hawke would try. 

Hawke let himself cry openly, stopped trying to hold back the tidal wave of emotion. His shoulders shook slightly, and Anders reached up and beckoned him to lie down. 

Hawke went with him and lay with his head on the pillow next to Anders, Anders reaching over to run a hand through his hair.

“We’re both alright, love,” said Anders, “we’re both together and we’re both okay.”

Hawke tried to keep remembering that instead of dwelling on what the future might hold. 

[royalskarsgard]

Once in a Lifetime

Billy Hargrove X Reader

Summary: Is it harder to love the man who broke your heart or to forgive him?

A/N: This is sooooooo overdue, and I’m so sorry. Family issues got in the way. And a whole lot of writer's block. But I hope you can forgive me, it’s super long to account for how long I went missing! Thanks to the loml for helping me through this @hotstuffhargrove

Sequel to ‘Love You, Goodbye.’

Warnings: one swear word

Word count: 2.4k

“Fucking Harrington! Get your dirty clothes out of the bathroom,” you groaned. He always did this after work, he always left his dirty uniforms on the bathroom floor. He claimed he was too exhausted after work to bring them to the correct place. Yet, a sudden burst of energy always appeared when his “study buddy” called to meet him at the library. 

“I’ll get them later! I’m actually. Headed out to meet Lisa at the library. I’ll catch you tomorrow!” He rushed out. You rolled your eyes, wondering why Steve thought his lies were believable. He’s clearly in love. 

Love was cruel and not worth anything in the end. It’s just a consumeristic ploy that gets you to buy movie tickets and to sell chocolate on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t real. It was all lust, love at first sight? Fake, what they're really thinking is, ‘my god, that person really is fuckable.’

Sighing, you went into your powder pink bathroom. Feet slipping on the water Steve had left after his shower. When all his clothes were in the correct hampers, you quickly passed the kitchen, deciding to skip dinner. You weren’t that hungry, working at a diner was hard, but the free food was a good perk. Especially for a broke college student. 

Your room was dark, the door screamed against its hinges as you shut it. As much as you loved Steve, you were glad he was always gone. In part because it’s what you preferred and you didn’t want to infect in with your sadness. Was it really that pathetic that you were currently reaching for a half-empty bottle of cologne to spay onto your sheets? That in two minutes, you would light three cigarettes and hold them near your pillow? Maybe, but it was the only thing keeping you afloat. Especially now. 

With the cigarettes burning in your hand, you picked up your favorite picture of him. It was a rare one, he was actually smiling. It wasn’t one of those signature smirks he always gave. It was real. The real billy. No one really gave the real Billy a chance. They wrote him off as a punk as soon as they saw him. People are quick to judge when they don’t know the whole story. Just like love, the truth was more painful than what they told us growing up.

“Why can’t I move on?” You whispered to yourself. You took a drag of the cigarette that sat lit between your fingertips. A coughing attack took over, and you groaned reaching for some water. You couldn’t understand his appeal for them, never had, and never will. After all three were burnt, you laid down in your bed that was now plastered in his scent. It wasn’t perfect. Your sheets weren’t mixed with his shampoo, his hairspray or the way his skin smelled after a basketball game. But it was close enough to lull you to sleep for a few hours. 

“Hey! Wake up, we gotta go. It’s an emergency. Pack a bag we’re going to the airport,” Steve shook your shoulders ripping you away from a peaceful sleep. Your heart climbed into your throat and made you sick to your stomach. When you finally gained full consciousness, you watched as Steve ran around the room putting things he thinks you like in a bag. 

He motioned for you to hurry and rushed to his own room to do the same. Grabbing more essentials and getting dressed, you found Steve waiting in the living room for you. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, the paste dribbling down his chin. His shoulder held the phone close to his ear, confirming two flights to LAX. It was two am, and it was officially proven that Steve Harrington was crazy. 

~~

Three days earlier

Billy’s eyes widened as he saw a brown-eyed boy with a bowl cut standing in front of him.  A chill ran up his spine, he knew this kid. The boy smiled before he took a small step back. 

“Will Byers, Jonathan's brother, I was a friend of Max’s?” Billy nodded, finally putting the pieces together. They weren’t friends by any means, but he’d seen him around. He never tried to date Max, so there was no point in getting to know him. 

“How are you alive? We all saw you die, you sacrificed yourself to the mind flayer. How did you survive? Did El bring you back to life?” Rather than frightened, the boy looked confused. He looked as if Billy being brought back to life was an acceptable answer. There was no fear, only confusion, and genuine concern. And for some reason deep down, Billy didn’t feel afraid to tell him the truth, so that’s what he did. 

“Everything was dark, it was Hawkins but with the life taken out of it. It was so cold. No matter what I did, I could never get warm. Sometimes I was in a dark room with water, and I saw that girl you know there too. I tried to get to her, but she left before I could reach her,” with every word he said Billy got more and more withdrawn. A cold breeze running through his body. Will shivered the more he talked 

“We call it The Upside Down, I’ve been there too. When they thought I was missing, that’s where I was. The thing that you saw down there, and what died in the mall was a mind flayer,” the young boy sighed knowing this was information overload. But he also knew that Billy deserved answers. 

“It possessed me too, except I wasn’t stuck in the upside-down. I’m not sure how that happened. A couple of years ago, the U.S. government used Hawkins as one giant experiment, trying to find out that the supernatural existed, to use it as a weapon. Things turned sour, and it left a big mess for my friends, it’s how we found El. She’s the girl you saw down there.” 

On any regular basis, billy would’ve told the young child to go fuck off and give some insult about how he was crazy. But Billy heard the stories about Will Byers, the boy who came back to life. He’d once found an old missing poster with him on it. So for now, he didn’t find it that crazy, especially paired with Billy’s own experiences 

“I saw her touching me.. not me per se but, whatever looked like me. I was sitting on my bed in my room, and she was real and apparently so was I. I tried to yell, to run to get there but nothing was enough. Now it just feels like it’s watching me, following me.”

“We’re connected to it now, to the mind flayer. Even in death, I can still feel it. Maybe it will never leave, maybe it will go away. It’s terrifying, but I don’t want it to control my life. Do you?” A simple question, yet it caught him off guard. He had moved on, things were going fine he had a job, a home, and a small group of friends. But if he asked himself if he was truly happy, he probably would’ve said no. He was scared shitless. 

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Billy whispered. The boy nodded, knowing that despite everything, the two young men would do anything for each other. 

“Can you call someone for me?” 

~~~

Present:

The car moved shook with the bumps along the pavement. The smell of sea salt was becoming stronger, the closer you got to the beach. It was beautiful, that’s what Steve said at least. Your mind was racing, your heart stopped, and your chest slowly moving. You didn’t know how to feel. When you touched down in Los Angeles, you figured something was off, but when Steve started driving towards Palos Verdes, you knew something major must be wrong. You had begged and pleaded to know if El and the rest of the Byers family were okay. It terrified you to no end when Steve remained silent. It took you screaming your lungs out for Steve to finally pull over to a local diner. 

Now you sat in the passenger seat tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even blink. Billy was alive. Steve told you everything on the side of the highway, at first you thought you heard him wrong because of all the cars driving past. But Steve stood there barely looking you in the eyes like he felt guilty for giving you the information. He hasn’t said much either since you stepped in the car. Explaining it all either drained him or he was afraid to say anything more.

“Billy Hargrove died in the Starcourt Mall from a freak gas leak. If that’s not true, that means the truth is more painful than what actually happened” Steve sighed, he had no idea how to comfort you. He couldn’t tell you everything was okay or it would be fine because it wasn’t. 

Billy was alive, you knew that in your heart. You prayed for so many nights it was all a joke and Billy was pissing his pants from how funny it was. That he would pick you up from work and drive you home. That the man you all thought had died just looked a lot like Billy, and you didn’t know who he really was. 

Yet somehow the truth was much worse than that. Billy knew your heart was shattered, he knew that you were in pain, and he was the only one who could save you. Instead of coming back and risking questions, he walked away. He walked away from you, Max, and everyone else. He watched you and decided you weren’t enough of a reason to come back. He lived it up in California while you got to hold max when she cried herself to sleep every night. Maybe everyone was right, he wasn’t redeemable he was just an asshole. 

“Do you want to see him?” Steve asked you, the beach was only a few minutes away, and your anxiety grew with each mile closer. 

“How am I supposed to look at him after everything. I thought he died in my arms and it turns out he was alive the whole time? Why didn’t he come to me?” A small part of you knew why he did what he did, he was scared and alone. 

“You’re the only person who’s looked at him with pure kindness, he was confused and had nowhere to go. Can you blame him for running away?” He reached over and grabbed your hand. A small gesture that brought you great comfort. 

“How many people know?” 

“Only you, me and Will. Billy wanted to make sure you knew before the others. I’m not sure if he ever plans on telling the others.” He pulled into the beaches parking lot. The glow of the setting sun burned your eyes. He was down there, in the flesh for the first time in over a year. 

You figured out later that the last time you saw the unflayed Billy was the night of the accident. He had just dropped you off, and he said he would see you tomorrow, that he loved you and to be safe. He kissed you and smiled before getting into his car and driving away. After that, Billy started pushing you away, using you only for sex. Until that stopped too and he barely spoke to you. Then he died. You’d felt guilty for so long for not seeing the signs. 

“What if I can’t forgive him?” the whispered confession left your lips in shame. Was it fair to have spent a year grieving for this man only to push him away when you finally got him back? 

“Then you move on, but you won’t know until you see him. So go, he’s waiting.” that was his gentle way of kicking you out of his car. 

You stepped onto the hot pavement. The heat immediately suffocating you, this wasn’t Hawkins anymore. You saw Will standing close the steps, silently greeting you. He gave you a warm smile like he was telling you everything was going to be okay. Will nodded towards the water before going to sit in Steve’s car. 

Taking a deep breath of the salty air, you made your way down to the water. The hot sand sinking underneath your feet. Billy was here, this was the moment. Was he still the same? Would you still love him? Had he moved on? Was he just as broken as you? Your mind flooded with all these questions as you kept walking. Billy wasn’t there yet, giving you a small second of relief to catch your breath. 

A small tap on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, it was hesitant, and he was obviously just as nervous as you were. There he was. When you turned around, the man you loved more than anything was again standing in front of you. He had been kissed by the sun, and his hair was wilder than ever before. His green eyes were bright against his now tanned skin. 

A surge of anger ran through you as you shoved him away, again and again, and again. He took all of it. He grabbed your wrists when you started beating his chest. Bruises would appear later, but Billy knew full well he deserved all of it and more. 

“I’m so sorry,” he begged. His heart was beating so fast against his chest; he was afraid it would kill him before he could get the words out. You looked so perfect, he never doubted you would, but after a year you weren’t just in his dreams anymore. Your face was perfectly clear, the nightmares about forgetting your face vanished. 

He caught you before you fell to your knees into the sand and lowered his own body to you. He ran his fingers through your hair and held you close to his chest. Repeating that he was sorry and that he loved you so much. He begged you to forgive him. 

As he held you, your lungs filled with the smell of cigarettes, his cologne, and the smell of dried sea salt against his skin. He was back, he was warm, life was coursing through his veins. Every image of his cold body being whisked into a black back was replaced. You loved him, he was your one and only. The only man you could ever think of loving. Forgiveness was already given,   and explanations could wait until later. You had all the time in the world, nothing would separate the two of you again. He would always be there for you, he was your forever and always, and you were his.

Tagged: @hotstuffhargrove @asheseiler

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #300: Reactions of Someone Insulting their Love Ones Part 3 (Variety)

Moxxie and Millie

Random Guy: ('Tch') What kind of woman would ever wants to be married to a fucking pussy-boy like that guy-

Millie: (Immediately Push the guy towards a nearby wall and gives him a Death Glare) Who do you think you are?! Talking shit about my husband behind my back like that?!

Moxxie: Millie! Calm down. Please.

Millie: (Turns to Moxxie with a genuinely sad look) But, Moxxie....He was talking about you behind our backs....

Moxxie: (Gently Grab both of Millie's hands with a Soft Smile) I'm aware of that, dear. But trust me when I say that jackasses like him aren't even worth trouble.

Millie: ('Sigh') I guess you have a point there, 'hon. (Gives Moxxie a loving hug) I just don't want anyone to talk bad about my handsome husband like that~

Moxxie: (Chuckles Lightly as he hugs his wife back) I know you don't, Millie~

Random Guy: Yeah....Go ahead and calm down your tramp of a wife, jackass-

Moxxie: (Rushes over towards the guy and gave him a Death Glare of his own while having him on gunpoint) The fuck did you say about my beautiful wife, bastard?

Random Guy: (Starts Getting Scared Shitless) Uhhhhhhhhhhhh........

Millie: (Rooting for her husband from the distance) Get 'em, sweetie!~

Vantias & Namine

Seifer: That's the new girl? ('Heh') She's even more of a weirdo than I thought she would be. (Chuckling)

???: Hey, Seifer.

Seifer: Yeah? What do ya- (Starts Shutting his mouth quick once he's Sudden gets Surrounded by a group of dark-like creatures in his outter circle)

Vantias: (Standing by a nearby wall) Got yourself a death wish here today?

Seifer: (Starts Getting Scared Shitless) W-W-What the fuck is all of this?!

Vantias: Swarm of Darkness. Friends from the other side or whatever. Really don't take kindly too of you making fun of Namine like that.

Seifer: (Shivering in Fear) S-S-So What if you have some weird army to back you up?! I ain't scared of them!!!

Vantias: (Smirks while Shrugging) You should be. Cause I doubt they know how to hold back to any-

???: VANTIAS!!

Vantias: (Turns to See Namine making her way towards him with a Very Disappointed Glare) Ah shit.

Namine: Stop this madness. Right now!

Vantias: But-

Namine: (Glare Starts Piercing Harder) Vantias......

Vantias: ('Sigh in Defeat') Fiiiiine.....(Snap his fingers which instantly made the Army of Darkness disappear)

Namine: (Place Two hands on her hips) Why on Earth would you try using your darkness to scare Seifer like that? What were you thinking?

Vantias: Okay. In my defense....(Points at a Frighten Seifer) Jock boy over there called you a "Weirdo" behind your back. Couldn't let him get away from that so...I called in the squad to teach him a lesson.....

Namine: (Sigh as she Gently Grabs both of Vantias' hands) Oh, Vantias..... I know from the bottom from my heart that you mean well, but using the force of darkness to scare people is not the way to do it. You know better.

Vantias: ('Sigh') Yeah...I guess I went a bit overboard on the whole Army of Darkness thing. Sorry about that, Namine....

Namine: (Hugs Vantias with a Soft Smile) It's okay, Vantias. I'm really thankful for you always looking out for me.

Vantias: (Starts Blushing a little) Y-Yeah well... we're family, aren't we? I always got your back.

Namine: I know you do.

Seifer: Y-Yeah! That's right! Call off your goons and hang out with a Weirdo, you EMO FREAK!-

Before the bully knows it, Namine rushes over and punch Seifer so hard that he was sent flying towards a nearby wall.

Namine: ('Pants Pants') ('Whew') Well... I'm glad that's over with.

Vantias: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) (Holy shit.....)

Namine: (Walks Towards Vantias and gently had his hand with a smile) Would you like to get something to eat together, Vantias?

Vantias: (Came back to Reality) Oh! Uhh...Yeah. Let's... do that. (Great...Now I know who else not to pissed off in the near future.....)

Byleth & Her Students

Random Guy #1: Ughhhhhh!!! Another Fire Emblem rep?! Are you serious right now?!

Random Guy #2: Yeah! And she's another swordfighter too! Like we even need more to begin with!!

Random Guy #3: Yeah, man!! She's already a waste of space as it is!!

Random Guy #1: Tell me about!!! Someone as garbage as her has NO rights to in this tournament-

Toon: Oh my God...(Throws down his bag in annoyance) SHUT UP ALREADY!!!!!!

Byleth: (Surprised by Toon's suddenly outburst) T-Toon?

Toon: You know what? No. I have had it up to here with these Self-Entitled Jerkfaces! (Cracking his knuckles) Enough is enough!

Ness: (Irritated) I agree, Toon. It's one thing to try and Insult us on a daily basis, but standing here and Insulting someone who has ever rights to participate in the tournament as much as the rest of us here is crossing the line. And I'm sick of it!

Byleth: Ness, I-

Ashley: (Hair Starts to turn White in anger and irritation) You know....I was hoping to hex some fools today.....

Lucas: (Grabs Ashley's hand) Ashley, wait!.......(Turn towards the three guys with a very rare piercing glare) Let me help you on this.

Ashley: (Squeezes Lucas' hand reassuringly) You're always welcome to help me anytime, Lucas.

Popo: (Step Forth with a hammer) Don't forget about us here too, you guys.

Nana: (Follows Pursuit) Yeah. Count us in.

Hat Kid: (Step Forth while patting her parasol on the palm of her hands with a very not pleased look on her face)..........

Byleth: Childern!

Random Guy #1: Oh shit.....

Random Guy #2: Why does this always happens to us?......

Random Guy #3: Knew we should've kept our mouths shut.....

Random Guy #1: (Turn Towards the angry group of kids slowly walking towards him and his friends) H-Hey, kiddo.....W-W-We don't want any trouble or anything.....

Random Guy #2: (Starts Sobbing in fear) Please have mercy!

Ness: (Unconvinced) Then answer us this.... What's our Professor's name?

Random Guy #1: Uhhhhhhhhhh............ Marth Junior?.......

Ness: (Fire Starts Flaring up from the tip is his fingers) Wrong answer.

Toon: Let's get em!!!

The kids were about to begin their attack when suddenly.....

Byleth: (Stomps her foot which caused the dust from the ground to clear off) ENOUGH!!!

Kids: (Turn their attention towards their Professor)

Byleth: (Took Deep Breath before speaking) Put down your weapons and calm yourselves....please. I understand that you all are doing whatever you can to look after me, but each and everyone of you should realize that violence is NEVER the answer for anything. Especially for something as trivial as this.

Ness: (Starts Looking back and forth at the Random Guys and himself before coming with the horrible realization) Oh my God....We really are becoming like them.....But even worse.....

Toon: (Starts Feeling bad) I guess we really let our anger get the best of us this time, huh?

Lucas: (Slowly Sits down while feeling terrible) Guys, I think I'm starting to feel horrible right now....

Ashley: (Kneels down and hugs Lucas reassuringly)

Ice Climbers/Hat Kid: (Put down their respective weapons while feeling guilty for what they've almost become)

Ness: (Turns towards Byleth with a very sad look) We're really sorry, professor....

Toon: Yeah....We didn't mean to embarrassed you or anything.....

Kids: We're sorry.....

Byleth: (Smiles Softly as Kneels down to her students) It's okay, my dear students. It really does means a lot to me that you would go as far as to defend my honor. The last thing I want for any of you is to let your anger and frustrations get the better of you in a situation like this.

Ness: Yeah.... (Slowly Starts to Smile) You're absolutely right, professor. We'll try to be careful next time.

Kids: Yeah.

Byleth: (Smiles Proudly at her students) Thank you for understanding, childern. I'm really proud all of you right now. (Starts Standing back up while brushing the dust off of her knees) Now then... Let's get back to the academy. Our lessons await us.

Kids: (Cheers Happily) Yeah!

Random Guy #1: (Watches as the Professor and her students starts walking away together) Man....that was even more intense than before....

Random Guy #2: No kidding...... They're even worse than their moms.....

Random Guys #3: Damn right.....

Random Guy #1: (Starts Getting up from the ground and Chuckling) Y-Yeah! You better keep walking you little brats!! Think twice before messing with us-

All of a Sudden, Byleth begins to reappear in from of the three guys in a not so please look.

Random Guy #1: (Squealed in fear)

Random Guy #2: (Scared Shitless) Oh God....not again....

Random Guy #3: Have mercy on us lady! Please!!

Byleth: (Took A Deep Breath before speaking in a Menacing tone) I'm only going to say this one.....Never talk to me or any of my students EVER. Again. Do I make myself clear?

Guys: Yes, ma'am.

Byleth: Good. (Smiles Professional before walking off) Good talk, gentlemen.

@keyenuta

@26shann

@cyber-wildcat

@chompycroc

@ink-correctsmashbrosbloo

@vizziepop-blog

@gengar-sans

@scribblehooves

[feelthepainofdodick]

Addicted - Chapter 2 (D.D. x Reader)

Summary: You and David are dating but you get some devastating news that causes you to relapse and make bad choices. Consequences are bound to happen in both your relationship and your life.

Notes: Okay everyone so this is the next part. I got some notes on my first chapter and I was so happy and surprised that anyone even read it so thank you! Here is the next part and there will definitely be probably at least one or two or more parts. Let me know what you think! Good or bad lol. Enjoy! - Julie

Word Count: 1717

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER THREE 

David’s POV

You were trying to get the right angle for filming Zane and Stass dancing on the table when (Y/N) came to you. She leaned towards your ear and said she was going outside to get some air. You nodded and she walked off. Your focus was on getting footage, as always. How were you supposed to know your girlfriend’s life was being blown during such a mundane moment?

It may not have seemed like it to most people but this was a normal night for you. It was Zane’s birthday which meant it was a going out night. During these kinds of nights when you and your friends go out is when all the good stuff happens for the vlogs. So, that is where your focus was. After (Y/N) left to the balcony you continued filming; trying to get your friends more drunk and more carefree. You barely even noticed that you hadn’t seen (Y/N) in an hour. You just assumed she was dancing with the girls. If you were filming the girls then you assumed she went to the VIP section to take a break. 

It wasn’t until you and multiple of your friends were sitting down around the booth taking a break when you realized how long it’s been. 

David: “Hey guys. Where is (Y/N)?”

Corinna: “She went to get some air like over an hour ago. I don’t know where she went after that. I just assumed she was with you.”

Little did you know she was at an airport bar getting drunk off margaritas and tequila shots before a flight back to her hometown.

David: “Shit. Where is she?” I asked concerned.

You immediately grab your phone and call (Y/N). It went straight to voicemail. 

David: “Guys. It went straight to voicemail. Her phone must of died.”

Zane: “Don’t worry too much David. She probably went home for all we know. Chill out.” He said drunkenly.

David: “She wouldn’t leave without telling me! She knows I would worry.”

Then a thought popped into his head.

Isn’t today her two years sober anniversary? Shit. Shit. Shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have come out with us tonight. Maybe it was too much for her to handle today of all days. But she would have told me if it was too much for her. She always let me know when things were too much to handle for her especially when it came to her sobriety. This doesn’t make sense. Something is wrong; I know it is.

I called (Y/N) again. Straight to voicemail, again. Everyone was distracted not thinking about where (Y/N) could be and talking amongst themselves. That made me think I was overthinking the situation. But, I had this gut feeling something was wrong. I got up and walked over to the balcony where she told me she would be last. No one but a couple drunken people were wobbling around on the balcony. You went over to one.

David: “Hey, I’m David. I wanted to know if you saw a girl. About this tall.” He moved his hand to the side to approximate how tall you were in comparison to himself. “She has (Y/H/C) hair and (Y/E/C) eyes. She was wearing some jeans, a red tube top, and some red heels. Have you seen her?”

Drunk Guy: “Yeah! I saw her like an hour ago. She was just over there on her phone” He pointed in a random direction drunkenly. “She looked hella sad man. Super hot but super sad. Then she just left. Poof. Just like that.”

David: “Did you see where she went?” He asked more concerned now.

Drunk Guy: “Not really. I saw her walk towards the exit but not much else. I think I overheard her call some dude named John and said she was coming over. I don’t really know man. Sorry.”

David: “It’s cool. Thanks for letting me know.”

He turns back around to go tell his friends that he knows something is wrong with (Y/N). As he walks out back into the club he hears the drunk guy yell back at him good luck man! Be fucking careful. The hot ones are always the most dangerous. 

You return to the group and stare at everyone. They’re all sitting around the booth laughing and talking. This was supposed to be Zane’s night but now you were ready to stop everyone's fun because you thought (Y/N) might be hurt or something. But you weren’t sure what was going on with her. You debated just telling them you felt sick and that you’ll take an uber home. Give the keys to Corinna since she was sober.

And that’s exactly what you did. You told everyone you were feeling dizzy after filming Stass and Zane for so long and that you needed to catch up on some sleep. You gave the keys to Corinna and got an uber to leave back to your house.

The second you got into the uber to go home is when it hits you. All your worries about  (Y/N) started kicking in.

Where the fuck would she go without telling me?

Did something bad happen on the phone?

Who is John?

Why was she going to John?

Was tonight too much for her?

Why the hell did I not acknowledge that today was her two year sobriety date? 

She never talked too much about that stuff anyways.

Where is the love of my life…

You got home more freaked out than ever. You ended up calling (Y/N) over 15 times. Each time ended the same way; with a voicemail, and every time you left a voicemail. Each sounding more and more desperate to know where she is.

Voicemail #1...

Hey baby girl. You left the club without telling anyone. Can you call me back to let me know where you are. I’m just worried. Or maybe just drop by the house? I left the club so I’m here if you need me.

Voicemail #5...

Honey. You’re seriously starting to worry me over here. It’s been hours since I last saw you. Some drunk guy at the club told me he saw you on the phone really really sad. Baby, I don’t know what happened and if you’re not ready to tell me then that’s fine but I really just need to know you’re okay.

Voicemail #15…

(Y/N). I’m really fucking scared. I don’t know what to do. Do I call the police? Do I call your Mom? What the fuck do I do? I just need to know you’re okay. You know what? I’m gonna call that hometown friend of yours, Sarah, I think. Maybe she knows something… Call me back. Please!

Your night carried out like that. You called her friend. Called her mom. No answer from anyone. You were scared shitless and didn’t know what to do. You debated calling the police but you knew they wouldn’t file a missing person until 24 hours have passed. At some point you passed out on the couch scared out of your mind about where your girlfriend could possibly be.

(Y/N) POV:

It was nearing six in the morning and you were sitting on that raggedy couch John never got rid of surrounded by your old hometown friends. More and more people started showing up. The sun was barely going to rise soon and yet the party was barely going full swing. Alcohol flowed back and forth between your friends. Coke all over the coffee table available for anyone to do lines whenever they wanted. You turned around and saw into the backyard that some kids you knew from high school where dancing around on some hallucinogen. You had already done a few lines and shot up; you were not feeling anything and you were grateful.

This is how it always was two years ago. Show up to Johns. Do drugs. Fuck around. Sleep. Repeat. And now you were here again, like nothing had changed.

Sarah: “Hey (Y/N) I just got some call from that rich boyfriend of yours.”

(Y/N): “No shit. What did he say.” You said without actually wanting to know. You were completely numbed out and nothing mattered to you, including a call from David.

Sarah: “Didn’t have time to answer.”

(Y/N): “Cool”

That was that. You didn’t think about what he was doing or what he wanted. You didn’t know he was worrying about you. You just knew you’re mom was dead and you didn’t want to feel that loss. Not right now. Not ever.

That was the last thing you remember thinking about when you woke up to a car honking at you. You woke up to the sun on your face and pavement under you instead of the couch you remember being last. Did I pass out here? You looked around and found yourself laying on the parking lot of your local animal shelter. What the fuck am I doing here? Fuck. I always did love petting the kitties when I was high out of my mind. You chuckled. It felt wrong. Then you remembered everything you didn’t want to feel.

Your mom was dead... Your mom was dead and you relapsed….

You got up, dusted yourself off and walked back into the direction of Johns house. It was probably around noon based on the heat hitting you and you felt thoroughly embarrassed as cars passed you by because of how shit you felt and probably looked. You finally made it back to Johns, the door was open, and found him knocked out on the couch as you made your way to the bedroom to find a charger to charge your phone.

When you finally turned on your phone, every message from David showed up. Over 30 phone calls, 20 voicemails, and 50 texts. I stared at my notifications not sure if I was ready to deal with the repercussions of everything that happened last night. If I listened to him talk to me, everything would be so real. 

I put my phone down, got dressed in some of my old clothes I left at Johns from forever ago, and walked to the police station to see my mother one last time.

[quillquiver]

higher love (in acoustic)

Full credit to @doekent for the idea, which bothered me until I wrote this long thing I also posted to AO3

Castiel has had ample time to imagine how it would happen: in the heat of the moment during an argument, violent and hungry as they fought with teeth and tongue; during the aftermath of a hunt, running on adrenaline and the thrill of being unmistakably, painfully present and alive; in the quiet moments between jobs, soft and sweet and no big deal.

Cas never would have predicted it happen like this: here, with his heart fumbling into a race and throwing itself so violently against bone he’s sure it’s pounding itself into a pulp. Here, with his hands numb, totally soaked in a tingly, cold sweat and so aware of everything around him he’s certain he can feel heat from the Earth’s molten core through the rubber soles of his shoes.

Castiel does not speak. He does not think. He barely feels himself move.

But he must, he thinks hysterically, a moment after the fact. He must have raced across the five feet separating himself and Dean and fisted his filthy, mud and goo-encrusted green jacket, yanking him into a bruising, unforgiving, desperate kiss.

Cas knows he must have done this because his lips sting and his hands are still fisted in Dean’s clothing and he’s breathing as if he just ran a marathon.

“You said you killed the Empty?” he croaks.

Dean can barely manage a nod.

“And Michael?”

“…Yeah. He—he’s gone.”

There’s a tell-tale tightness in Cas’s chest and he breathes shaky and shallow. His vision blurs. “You’re certain?”

Dean smile is quiet, but it’s there. Castiel feels parts of himself unravel. “Pretty darned.”

“That was foolish.”

Dean says nothing. Cas doesn’t blink. If he blinks, he’ll be crying. It takes every ounce of strength he has to give a stiff nod and spin on his heel. He thinks he might be blushing to high heaven, and he feels sick, and he honestly isn’t sure if he wants to try and kiss Dean again, or rain down fire and fury for being left behind.

Castiel isn’t sure where he’s going other than away, but he barely gets three steps before Dean has grabbed his arm. “Hey,” he says, firm. “What’s up?”

“Let go, Dean.”

“Cas—”

“Please.”

But Dean has never—not once—done as he was told... so it’s no surprise when he gently turns Castiel to face him, keeping a careful grip on the right sleeve of his coat with one hand while the other moves up to catch the wetness on his cheek. “Cas, c’mon,” he says.

Cas rolls his lips together, looking up and giving a minute shake of his head as Dean thumbs his cheekbone. It’s leaps and bounds more contact than they’ve ever had outside of life-threatening situations, and that alone is throwing Castiel for the world’s largest “loop”. He wonders faintly if it’s possible to die of emotional excess.

Dean swallows thickly, worry bleeding into his posture and the gentleness of his hands. He’s gorgeous. “…I do somethin’ wrong?” he murmurs.

Cas counts the metal beams on the ceiling.

“You’re kinda worryin’ me over here, man. You okay? Did something malfunction?”

Blue eyes squeeze shut.

“Castiel—”

“I made a deal.”

Dean’s hand freezes.

“Not that it matters now, because The Empty is dead.” Cas’s punctuating laugh sounds hysterical even to his own ears. “Because you killed It. And Michael. And you left me here again while you went and risked your life when I had made a deal with It; Jack’s life in exchange for my own happiness. But I’ll never be happy, will I? Because you’ll always leave me behind. Because I’ll never be enough. Family is a word used to denote conditional love for a only handful of those you apply it to and I’m among them. And I just—I just realized that, I think. Right now. During the aftermath of a hasty kiss because I was overwhelmed by the possibility of loving you openly and unapologetically. Which I do. Love you. But you knew that, didn’t you? Not that it matters, now. I’m dying anyway. This is what death feels like. I’m. I—Can’t—I’m—”

Castiel’s vision is spotting, he’s suddenly freezing cold and he feels woozy and unsteady on his feet. He’s surprisingly calm for someone who is going to die, he thinks absently. Sound reaches him from an endless tunnel, and there is very suddenly a pressure on his back, breathing deep and steady. It takes a few moments for Cas to match that rhythm before he comes back to himself. Faintly, he can hear Dean speaking. His voice is low.

“You’re an asshole,” he says. “Breathe. In, out. Good. You listening, Cas? Yeah? You hear me? You’re an asshole. Keeping breathing. That’s it, with me. Fuckin’—Jesus Christ. Okay. That’s great. Scared me shitless. Goddamn fuck.”

Castiel comes to and finds he’s sitting on a chair in the war room. He’s draped over a kneeling Dean, whose right hand is buried in his hair and left presses against his chest. Cas feels as if he’s been run over by multiple motor vehicles. His trembling hands move to wrap around Dean’s body and the man in question gives a shaking exhale.

Dean leans up. Their foreheads are press together. He’s so close Castiel can see every fleck of green and gold in his irises.

“Listen to me,” Dean says, firm and urgent and something else. “Family is unconditional for every fucking person I apply it to, including you. Jesus—especially you. You fucking—you blind, idiotic pain in my ass, if I’ve left you behind any time within in the past year it’s only because I can’t stand to see you hurt. I fucking refuse to burn you again, Castiel, you hear me? I won’t do it. But it’s hard to keep you safe when you insist on throwing yourself on the sword every time one is in the goddamn room.

“And fine, I didn’t tell you about the fuckin’ death box. Okay. But cut me a little goddamn slack, here—I talked to you and three hours later I threw that entire plan out the friggin’ window. And still, after that—after all of that, you got the goddamn nerve to imply that I, what? Don’t love you? That I’m stringing you along? That I don’t care ’cause you’ll never be good enough? Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. You wanna talk about our actions, how about you fuckin’ explain to me why you made a deal with a cosmic-symbiote and didn’t share with the class, huh?”

Castiel feels his chest tighten in panic again, but Dean presses hard against his sternum, his other hand gentle as it rubs his back. He looks helpless. “…I know you, Cas. I know you did it for the kid. And I know you threw away your happiness like it was nothing because you don’t think what you want is within reach. I don’t know if that’s ’cause you don’t think you deserve it, or ’cause you think we mean more to you than you to us, or what---but that shit makes you righteously reckless. That is why I tell you to go on the easy hunts with Jack. That is why I took Sam to deal with Michael alone. And you’re an asshole if you think that after everything we’ve been through I don’t love you as goddamn fiercely as you love me.” Dean blinks rapidly here, looking down with a frown. “But hell, I’m the asshole who gave you a fucking panic attack ’cause I suck at showing people I care about them. So. Prob’ly shouldn’t listen to me.”

The lump in Cas’s throat is so big he can barely swallow. “You’re not an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you,” Dean scoffs, moving to bury his face in Castiel’s shoulder.

“You love me.”

“Yeah.”

“You love me fiercely.”

“Guess I do.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Cas, that’s not—” Dean pulls away, dragging a hand over his face. “That ain’t what I meant—”

“We’re spectacularly bad at this, aren’t we?” Cas says, nerves lurking under a lightness he doesn’t feel. He’s a mess. He’s never understood the figurative meaning of the word ‘fried’ until this afternoon. “Look, I—I will stop throwing myself on the sword if you trust me not to do so, but… but I will kindly inform you that if it were to come down to you or Sam or Jack or Mary and me, I still wouldn’t choose me. Not because I don’t love myself, or care about myself, but because that is who I am, and that is who I will continue to be. And... and you love me as I am. I think.”

Dean chews his lip, rolling his eyes. “Long as you know that I come with baggage the size of these United States.”

The corner of Cas’s mouth twitches up in a smile. “I do know that, yes.”

“Good. And you should also prob’ly be aware that I wouldn’t change anything in my life, even if I could. The way we met, the shit we put each other through, every freaking goddamn apocalypse, I wouldn’t change it. I like where I am now, and I ain’t leavin’.”

Cas’s smile widens and he dips his head in a nod, finger moving to brush the line of Dean’s jaw. “We’re in agreement, there.”

“Swell.”

“Mm.”

This kiss is worlds different than the last. Gentle is too cumbersome a word to describe it—whether due to hesitance or disbelief it’s more the ghost of a kiss; hands squeezing whatever and wherever they fell, brows meeting but lips barely touching. Even still, the imprint of the contact is like a brand on Cas’s mouth.

They pull away only to immediately come together again, with slightly more pressure this time. Dean smells like burnt lightning and radiation. They kiss again. And again. And again—sharing small, chaste demonstrations of affection until Castiel has lost count of them all. Dean’s tongue swipes against Cas’s bottom lip and he opens to him, leaning forward until he’s practically falling off his chair.

The kiss reaches its natural conclusion when they’re too busy smiling to move their lips together.

“You like kissing me.” Dean teases when Cas follows him, wanting more.

Castiel narrows his eyes. “You like kissing me.”

Helping Cas to his feet, Dean catches him by the waist when his vision spots again, holding him until the head rush passes. “C’mon, let’s get some of Sam’s fancy green kale juice into you. I’m gonna wash the cosmic guts outta my hair and then I’ll… meet you in the Cave? We could watch a movie or something.”

Castiel leans forward and pecks a kiss to Dean’s filthy cheek. Even underneath the muck, he can see it glow pink.

“I’d like that.”

[tonks32]

Inktober #16 - Stargazing

This time going to Mass Effect with some M!Ryder and Cora Harper. This is been rolling around in my head for a while now with their story starting before Andromeda. It got a bit away from me....

  Life in the countryside of earth was a stark contrast to life on the Citadel. Scott was still trying to decipher if it was a good or a bad change. He knew it was a needed one at least. With his father stripped of his N7 rank and kicked out of the alliance, coupled with his mother’s sickness, the quietness of the Scottish countryside made things a tad bit easier to handle.

  That was something Scott was doing a terrible job at. Handling all of these life changes at once was overwhelming. His twin had her own way of dealing, meaning working her way through every man and bar insight. Scott almost envied his sister’s ability to numb herself. He scratched the stubbles along his jaw as he rearranged himself on the chair he dragged to the roof in order to watch the stars. He couldn’t sit still. He always had to be doing something to keep his mind busy.

  So, sitting and waiting for his mother to die, knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it, killed Scott. Maybe he should be more like his-Alex. The stubborn bastard still worked around the clock in sheer desperation to save his wife. Scott never saw Alec so emotional before. Possible for the first time in his life, Scott could see how much his father truly loved his mother. It humanized him.

  “Knock, knock,” A voice came up from the open watch leading to the roof. “Anyone home?”

  “Cora?” Scott tried and most likely failed to keep the pleasure from his voice upon hearing hers.

  The blond poked her head through the open, one of her breath-taking smiles plastered on her face. “Expecting someone else, Ryder?”

  Scott sat up, spreading his legs until his fit hit the ground on either side of the lounge chair to make room for her to sit. “Well, nor er-I just thought…” He watched her climb onto the roof enamored by the way her body moved in the dim light. “I figured Sara would’ve dragged out onto the earliest shuttle to the city.”

  Cora, well aware she was under the intense gaze of the youngest Ryder, sat in the place he vacated. She hated seeing his blue orbs clouded with a storm of emotions. “Didn’t feel much up to the bar scene. She’ll text me if she needs back up. Besides.” Since she had the desperate urge to, she reached out to touch a hand to his. He jolted before relaxing under her touch. “I feel like I’m needed here more.”

  With you. Cora kept that last bit to herself.

  Tugging her hand upward, Scott pressed his brow against it. He’d know Cora for over two years now, being his father’s mentee, but also his twin’s best friend. And in that time, he’d grown quite fond of the biotic. She was beautiful. He doubted there wasn’t a man in the galaxy that would argue the point. Her beauty wasn’t what drew him to Cora. It was her strength in both her duty and her life as a biotic and the struggles that came with that caught hold of him. The sheer power coursing through her left him scared shitless and always wanting to be on her good side while he remained in awe of it.

  Then there was her sense of humor only a select few knew about. He was lucky to count himself among that small group. Her smile and the way her amber eyes would sparkle. They broadcasted every single emotion she was feeling. Not that she was shy about telling a person how she felt.

  Scott mentally shook himself before his thoughts could continue further and get him in trouble. Cora Harper was his friend and didn’t want to do anything to compromise or lose that.

  Cora ran her fingers through his disheveled ginger hair. She tried to keep her heart from rolling in her chest when he heard the smallest sigh of pleasure from him. “Talk to me, Scott.”

  “She’s getting weaker,” He whispered fighting another wave of tears. It was a wonder there was any left. All he did these days was cry. In private and far away from Alec lest his father would find another weakness to remind him of. But he knew here, with Cora, that he was safe to let it all out. He couldn’t do it without concerning his mother or facing Alec’s disapproval nor burdening Sara who was already hanging by a threat herself. Cora was becoming his anchor. Keeping him afloat in the sea of turmoil that was his life.

  “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.” Cora pressed her lips to his crown. Family was something she didn’t understand. Her biotics, along with their intensity, caused her parents to all but kick her to the curb. After a life of living in the slums, she joined the alliance in search of a purpose. For a place to belong and a family to fill the void. Nothing came close until she met the Ryder clan. In the short time, she’d known her, Ellen had been the mother she always dreamed of having. Adoring, Loving. Understanding. Even protective.

  Sighing, Scott brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Thank you," He whispered drawing away to look up at her. Amber eyes full of compassion and sorrow held his gaze. Scott fought the urge to lean forward. Friends. That's what they were. Only friends. "For being here."

  She gave him a soft smile. "You make it sound like a hardship."

  "Well..." Scott shrugged.

  "I always enjoy spending time with you," Cora confessed before she could think twice. But then again, they were to leave for Andromeda soon. A journey full of the unknown. This was not the time to leave things unsaid. "I always have."

  Scott grappled with surprise and keeping it from his features. That was something new. They joked and flittered, all harmlessly, with one another. Wasn't that all there was? Or perhaps things finally were shifting for them? Or, maybe, it was her way of comforting him. "Here." Hooking arm around her waist, Scott pulled her back flushed against him. He figured it was his imagination when he heard Cora's soft sigh. Scott gestured to the telescope next to the chair. "Take a look."

  Basking in the warmth of him, Cora leaned forward, peering through the lens. Stargazing was one of Scott's favorite past times. Especially now, since the Alliance cut him loose and wasn’t traveling through them. She knew that the only thing that helped him stay sane this far out into the country was the undistorted view of the night sky. "Andromeda," She whispered in awe. There it was. A small smudge in the dark sky. Someplace light-years away that in a month or two would be their new home.

  In six hundred years life as they knew it in the Milky Way would cease to exist. This very place would be completely unrecognizable. Cora wondered what it would look like. Even wondered more about the people, places, and the life that awaited them in their neighboring galaxy.

  Cora drew away to look up with her own eyes. "We set out on our journey and yet it still seems so farfetched. Impossible even."

  "Isn't that what the human spirit is all about?" Scott asked stroking his finger down the nape of her neck. She didn't jerk or bat it away on a laugh. The corner of his mouth curved. This was interesting. "Pushing the limits. Exporting the unknown?"

  "Regardless of the risks," Cora finished her mind going to all the brave explores that lead the charge in finding the new, no matter the cost. "Do you find yourself second guessing your choice?"

  That was a conversation that Scott didn't want to dive into tonight. Not after the emotion day he'd been through. "Can't second guess when I haven't been hustled into a stasis pod. Ask me then."

  Cora snorted but didn't push. He'd been through a lot tonight. Forced to watch his father argue over an AI's ability to infuse with an implant that he was sure could cure his mother. Cora knew that the heat was all one-sided. Alec, her mentor, was the universes' most stubborn ass. Of all species.

  "I should go," Cora whispered. "You look like you can use some rest."

  He tilted his head to the side. "Saying I look, bad Harper?"

  "No. Simply exhausted."

  "I feel it. Straight down to my bones." And it had nothing to do with the constant cold that hung in the Scottish air. "Cora?"

  The sudden bashfulness in his voice had the biotic looking up in bewilderment. He was always so sure of himself, arrogant even at times. To hear and see him so unsure, maybe nervous, left her wondering what he was going to say. If she was being truthful, it left Cora a bit hopeful. "What is it?"

  Scott fought the fiddle with the stings of his Initiative sweater. "I can't go downstairs." Where his father was feverishly working and his mother was slowly passing away. "Will you stay up here a bit longer?"

  She smiled. "As long as you need." Knowing what he needed without having him to say it, Cora shifted in that chair, snuggling up against him for comfort as much as warmth. "I'm here for you too, Scott."

  He laid his cheek against her hair. "And I'm forever grateful for it."

[storytime-hoe]

Tough Love Ch.2

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x O/C

Summary: Story picks up during season three as the group goes into Woodbury to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the Governor. However, they pick up another prisoner of Woodbury, Emma (O/C). She is a thief who fears friendships after her hard losses. She stays on the move, studying communities from afar and then robbing them blind. She has stayed alive this way for a while until the Governor catches her in the act. Now she finds herself with the group from the prison in a mission to kill the Governor for what he has done to her. She plans on stealing supplies from the prison group after the Governor is killed, but she might be growing a little too close to the groups members, especially one man in particular: Daryl Dixon.

Warnings: Slow burn, language, usual twd violence, mentions of abuse/rape

Authors Note: First of all let me say HOLY SHIT! I never expected people to read what I write let alone actually like it. This is amazing! I love all of you who gave me feedback and if anyone wants to be tagged just let me know. Also I am trying my hand at digital art for the very first time and I might be making a few quick sketches for this series so if anyone is interested in that I might post them.

Previously: Ch.1

"What's your name?" Rick said, his voice a low rasp so as not to alert any nearby guards.

We were outside of Woodbury now, but we were not leaving quite yet. Daryl had gone out to cover us as we made a break for our exit. We were home free, only to find out that Daryl hadn't come out with us. Maggie immediately stated that we needed to go back in after him, but Rick was fumbling around in his own head for a plan at the moment. The way he held himself told me he wasn't quite right in the head at the moment, and loosing someone that he valued as much as Daryl was not helping his state of mind.

"Emma," I answered him as sternly as I could manage these days, which wasn't very impressive.

"We are going back in there," Rick explained, still planning things out in his mind. Glenn was in no shape to go back into Woodbury to fight. So, it looked like Maggie and Rick were going to be needing me. "You come with us. If you so much as think about running off, I'll kill you."

"That doesn't sound like a bad choice to me," I crooned with a sly look.

Death was exactly what I had wanted for days and days, but I wasn't ready to go now. The Governor might have killed what good was left in me, but he hadn't killed me. I had things left to offer the world, and I would only die once I decided I had nothing left. I was in control of me again, which felt strange, but nothing was going to change that. Not Rick. Not Daryl. Not the Governor.

Rick took my answer with consideration. He felt he had to persuade me to help them. Good. I sure as hell wasn't about to give my services for free.

"After you help us get Daryl back we will take you to our camp. Have our doctor look you over." He motioned to the bruises that covered my arms and the cuts that I could feel on my face. "After you're fed and taken care of, you can help us deal with the Governor. I'm sure you know plenty about him after your prison sentence with him."

Earlier he ordered me to come with them and I assumed I would be treated like a prisoner just the same as I was in Woodbury, but Rick wasn't coming off as the kind of person who would force me into anything. I was still wary of him, but he seemed like a true honest person at the moment and his words made me more willing to help them. Maybe that was his play? Maybe he wanted to come off as a good person in order to persuade me into doing what he wanted?

"What makes you think I want to help you fight the Governor?" I leaned my weight back on one leg and crossed my arms over my chest defiantly.

Maggie spoke up impatiently. "You've been a prisoner to him for how long now? And you mean to tell us you don't want a chance to put a bullet in his head?"

I stayed silent for a while and searched her eyes as she spoke. "What did he do to you?" I choked out, knowing the answer deep down. I knew she was the Governor's prisoner, but she didn't looked harmed in any way like Glenn did. My stomach seized at the thought of him coming onto someone else like he did me.

"Nothing I'm sure he didn't do to you," Maggie responded, the hurt visible in her eyes.

I clenched my jaw and swallowed hard. I could run away. I could run and never look back on Woodbury. I could leave and not give two shits about the Governor or the prison group anymore. But, deep down I knew I couldn't really do that. The Governor needed to be put down. He needed to be stopped before he hurt anyone else like he did me. Like I assumed he did Maggie.

Besides, I guess I owed the archer for sparing me. Daryl. The face of the man with the crossbow flashed into mind again. I could still see him after he found me in the room in Woodbury. I replayed the moment over and over again in my head. He was the first person to spare me. Even Rick was an asshole upon first meeting me. Daryl might've looked a little sorry for me even, but he was someone who was just like me. He was a survivor. And he had a certain understanding about me that no one had since my brother...

"Michonne?" Maggie's voice cut through my thoughts. She aimed her gun at a dark skinned girl who had just crawled out into view.

"Did you get what you came for?" Rick hissed as he took away the only weapon she had, a katana.

She looked drained. Her breaths were short and quick and all the cuts on her oozed out thick blood onto her face and arms. She leaned against the old train car that she had emerged from under. Her leg was gushing an unhealthy amount of blood from a deep stab wound.

I focused in on her as she argued back and forth with Rick. She had come here with them to save Glenn and Maggie, but apparently split off from the mission. There was something about her... a determination for whatever she had gone after inside of Woodbury. She split off from the group for something so important to her. No. Someone.

"You went after him," I said knowingly. Her eyes flicked to mine as she analyzed me as well, a new face to her, but she stayed silent. "You went after the Governor," I pressed on.

Rick shifted back on his foot and looked at her accusingly.

"I got you here," she countered. "To save them."

"Thanks for the help," Rick curtly stated.

"You'll need help to get them back to the prison or to go back in there for Daryl. Either way," Michonne finished, "you need me."

"Me too," I spoke up, declaring that I was on board with them. All eyes were on me. I gnawed at my lip as I coninued. "I know everything there is to know about this place. And I happen to know that if they captured Daryl, he is about to face off in the arena. They did that with me on my first night."

Rick rolled his neck and looked at me, taking his usual terrifying stare off of Michonne for a moment. "Arena?"

"They had me in there with some other poor kid they captured. A fight to the death. You know, gladiator battle type of thing."

"That's sick," Maggie said with her gun still pointed at Michonne steadily.

"Well, they think it's fun."

"So, you agreeing to help us now?"

I shrugged, not wanting to have to explain myself to this stranger, but I felt that she understood why I was ready to march into battle again. I needed to end the Governor and getting back their man would help us in the long run. Plus, I owed Daryl for getting me out of Woodbury, and I didn't like owing anyone. I would get him out even if it meant going back into the devil's den.

"Fine," Rick said. "So, how are we doing this?"

Everyone leaned in, eager to here a rescue plan. They were all willing to follow me, someone they just met, in order to get back a friend. We were all willing to do anything if it meant the Governor wouldn't like it, as a matter of fact.

It looked like the Governor was pissing off all of the wrong people these days.

**

My legs ached from being in a crouching position for too long. I was back inside the gates of Woodbury, trying not to panic at being back, with Rick and Maggie behind me. Glenn had complained, but we made him stay behind with Michonne and wait for us to return.

I sat back against the building we were using as cover. The streets of Woodbury were deserted. Everyone was getting ready for the battle at the arena. The arena was encircled by three towering buildings. The memory of my first night at Woodbury hit me hard. I could remember my rival in the arena that night. We were both scared shitless and confused. When the Governor told us to fight to the death, the girl I was to fight looked like she was going to piss herself. She was unwilling to do what it took to survive. But not me. I was full of spirit and ready to fight every man and woman in Woodbury if it meant I could get a chance to escape. I had just lost my brother. After that event I said fuck everyone else and became a selfish raging monster. I was then and I still am. So, I took my chance with the terrified girl. I was going to live no matter what it took. And it took the life of another innocent human.

I turned my head to the ground in shame. Then the gunshot of commencement and yells of the people rung through the air, bringing me out of my episode of depression.

The fight was beginning.

I dashed around the corner and caught sight of the arena through the crowd of people. The orange glow of fire lit up the area casting shadows of the crowd onto the tall buildings in a haunting manner. The Governor was yelling out some bullshit speech that I couldn't hear well over the cheers of the people. That's when I caught sight of Daryl. The crowd went wild when they tore the bag off of his head, revealing him as one of the men from the group at the prison.

"I see him," I let Rick know behind me. "Maggie, get back to the top of the gate. Give us cover once we get to him. Rick, you should stay here. Wait for my signal."

"You know me!" I heard the voice of Merle before I saw him in the arena with Daryl.

Rick squinted over at the arena like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Is that Merle?"

I didn't know how much this group knew about Merle, but so far I could tell they knew enough to always talk about him with a disgusted tone.

"Looks like Merle is his rival for today." I saw enough through the crowd to see that Merle was not holding back. He swung hard at Daryl and brought him to the ground, out of my line of sight.

I felt my eyes widen in the surprise. I had seen enough of Merle for a lifetime, and I knew him well by now. Images of him snarling and spitting in my face flashed before my eyes. He treated be harshly in Woodbury, but during the moments when Merle was not brutal with me, I saw that he only followed orders. That was what he was doing now too. The Governor needed him to kill Daryl in order to prove himself loyal.

But I couldn't believe that Merle would even go against his brother for the Governor. I thought back to the times when Merle talked about raising his little brother because his parents were shit. Merle talked to me a lot about the past, mostly because no one else in Woodbury listened to him, the high tempered redneck, when he was feeling sorry for himself, and I had no choice in the matter.

When he told me his brother was out there, that was the first time he started to doubt the Governor. Yet he always chickened out of his plans of finding Daryl. Still, I always wanted him to be a better person, but I should've known better. I clenched my jaw at the current sight of him beating the shit out of the little brother he claimed to love so much.

"Bastard," I snarled and tighten my grip on my knife so my knuckles turned white. "He'll beat him to death. Because that's what the Governor wants him to do." And he always listens to that prick. No matter what.

"Yeah, I know." Rick checked the scope on his gun and turned back to me. "Get out there and look for an opening. We won't fire until you make the move."

I nodded, confirming the plan we had previously discussed and mentally preparing myself for the mission I had sent myself on. "Got it."

"Get him out alive," Rick's eyes looked into my soul when he spoke to me. It was like he was willing me to be successful in getting Daryl back. As if he could control that.

"Got it," I repeated slightly uncomfortable. I knew his archer man was top priority, even over me.

"And be careful." He looked like he actually meant that. Which was surprising for me. No one had cared about me in a long ass time. It felt nice that he warned me to be safe, even if he didn't mean it and even if he was just using me.

I turned to go but he grabbed my wrist before I could. I tensed up out of habit. I knew that only bad things happened when I was being grabbed anymore. I was stuck with awe when he pressed a small gun into my hand.

I looked up at him questioningly and he simply nodded saying, "Just in case."

This time he finally let me go out away from the building and into the crowd. Even though I should be worried about being recognized, my mind was preocupied with why Rick was trusting me so much. After spending too much time with the Governor, it just didn't make any sense. I needed his trust if we were going to work together in killing the Governor. Just because I trusted him though, didn't mean we had to be friends. I really didn't want to get close enough to care about any of these people. I was just helping them with a job. That was it. That was all I needed it to be.

The crowd around me erupted with a fresh wave of intense screaming. I pushed around bodies to the front of the crowd just in time to see Merle standing over Daryl. They were talking with each other, but I couldn't make out their words. However, the look in Merle's eyes told me he had something up his sleeve. I glanced over at the Governor who was sporting a new bandage over his eye. He was too distracted by something to notice Merle secretly planning with his brother.

I turned to follow the Governor's line of sight to see four men bring out Walkers on leashes. This wasn't part of the fight when I was shoved in the arena long ago, they must've gotten bored with the blantant murdering of people.

The adrenaline coursed through my veins. I hadn't enjoyed that feeling in a very long time and I was pleasured with every second of the anticipation of a battle. I couldn't hold myself back any longer as I leaped out into the arena. I raised up the gun Rick had lent me and fired at the Walker that stood directly in front of the Governor. The Walker fell and a one eyed glare landed on me, unwavering. I held his cold stare with an amount of brute that I didn't think I had in me anymore.

The crowd took notice to my identity, they had seen me as a champion of the arena before. They thought it was all part of the show. And the Governor didn't intervene to tell them any different. He stood like a statue as if he could kill me with his stern look. Anxiety rose in my chest but I forced it away. I wasn't here for him just yet. I had a job to do.

"Well, well, look who decided to join the party," crooned Merle, who was standing back to back with his brother now, ready to fight the Walkers with him as they were pushed closer to them. Daryl had his hands up, ready to pounce. His eyes landed on me with recognition and a million silent questions. I gave him one solid nod that I was here for him and tossed him the gun. My knife was more of my weapon of choice.

Merle looked ready to argue with his brother for the gun, but the shout from Rick from his hiding spot signaled for a spray of gunfire. I dropped to the ground as Maggie fired from the wall. Smoke filled the area and gunfire and shouts echoed in my ears. People were dropping dead everywhere around me. I gripped my knife tight in my hands as I pressed down on the sand and prayed I wouldn't get shot.

Just as I was about to stand again someone kicked my hand that held the knife. It went flying out of my reach and another kick was delivered to my stomach. I groaned and curled in on myself. My injuries that were beginning to heal from Merle's beatings earlier in the week were being freshened up as a boot came down hard on my chest. I looked up just in time to see the Governor's face as he reached down for me.

My mind seized with terror at the thought of what he would do to me if he got me back. I wanted to cry out of failure, but the fire in me sparked. I was not about to let him fuck me over again. Not ever. He didn't own me and didn't control me. At least that is what I was trying to convince myself.

I kicked him between the legs and the pain was enough for him to loosen his grip on my shirt. I saw this as an opportunity to stretch out for the knife that was resting in the dirt. As soon as my fingers closed around the handle, I didn't hesitate to swing the blade at him ferociously. Every part of me wanted to slice him to pieces. He took out his gun to fight back, but an explosion went off, sending us both flat to the ground.

My head buzzed and I didn't even process that someone was pulling me back up. Thinking it was the Governor again, I pulled my fist back at a lame attempt to swing at him. I almost collapsed out of loss when a hand caught my fist before it got the chance to collide with anything at all. It took me a few disbelieving blinks to realize it wasn't the Governor that was holding me upright, but Daryl Dixon. His eyes told me clear as day that if I tried to swing at him again he would put me back down on my ass. I took the silent threat with grace and let him half drag me out of the gates of Woodbury.

I remember seeing flashes of Rick firing his weapon from behind us and yelling, but his voice was muffled to my ears. My vision was a blur and Daryl had to help me walk, up until we were well in the woods and out of Woodbury. The entire walk to the car where Glenn and Michonne waited was a painful one. Every muscle in my body ached and blood dripped down from my eyebrow every now and again. My lungs burned more and more with every breath.

We reached the car parked by the road just as the sun was rising. Glenn appeared from behind it, his sights immediately landing on Maggie. I anticipated some repulsing yet adorable scene from a romance movie to start playing out, but then Glenn started screaming at someone. My mind was still a scattered mess, watching Rick hold out an arm and keep Glenn back from whoever he was yelling at.

I turned slowly to see who the center of the commotion was. I should've known this jackass was what was standing in the way of a peaceful ride back to the prison. Of course Merle-fucking-Dixon had to make it out of Woodbury with us.

**

Tags:

@daryldixonandfrogs

[migleefulmoments]

Debunking The ccResponse to my Proof post

CC Nonsense is so easy to debunk.  

This is their response to me calling them out for using manips as “proof” that cc was and is real.  

A group of grown adult women thought THIS was irrefutable and such good evidence that it was a perfect response to shut me down. In fact, they comment about the fun they are having several times.  I’m dumbfounded honestly by the ridiculous things they hold up as proof.   It’s so stupid.

ajw720

gifs found here (x)

flowersintheattic254

And it’s D who is the one looking blissfully happy. He mirrors C’s movements so much here and his expression is someone who is

BESOTTED

C is the focus of that. This exists and can’t be explained away.

Let’s start with my debunk post from yesterday. If you haven’t read it you can read it (X). Essentially, what we learned is that this photo 

which is one of their most treasured “proof” pics is a manip. 

It is super long so under a cut

I have no idea why Abby came back at me with the specific gif set above and this photo because they still prove nothing. Both men are known for being funny in interviews and that is exactly what is happening here but slow it down, clip out a 1-2 second piece, loop it in a gif and suddenly the moment because so much more than it ever was. Watch the entire video and the moment isn’t special at all. Chris always answers to get a laugh-hence “oh God” and “I was scared shitless”. I don’t know why being scared shitless during his first sex scene is proof of cc. Cory spoke about being terrified as well. Darren’s response is very serious-100% theater major. He gives a long answer, thoughtful answer and then turns on the charm at the end, going for a laugh to break the tension.  He leans forward Chris for less than a second as you can see from my screen grabs all taken at 3:17

and says “what do you think Chris?” The intimacy- and Flower’s “BESOTTED” moment- that the cc fandom has long romanticized in this interview is simply not there when you watch the video played at regular speed and in real time.  

Darren isn’t mirroring Chris’s movements- in fact he is quite serious when answering the question and he doesn’t seem to be all that aware of Chris beside him until he gets to the end of the question. As you can see in my screen grabs above, he doesn’t  look blissfully happy or besotted until the last two screen grab when he purposefully makes a cheesy smile at Chris and says “what you think Chris?”.  That was 1/2 a second in real time. The cc fandom and @flowersintheattic254 have spent 4 years purposefully NOT watching the video, instead realying   entirely on a manip and a handful of gifs along with their fabricated  version of what is going on on stage. They are literally gaslighting themselves.  

leka-1998

Hahahaha

They want to believe this is darren - I can’t help them. But if THIS is your proof, you are in sad shape.  Especially when you are putting that against 

You have a headless photo taken 6 years ago as your only non-Glee proof. That is pretty sad. Can you imagine a prosecutor taking that to court. “Yes, your honor, this photo of a tiny part of a man’s chin, his head cut out of frame and most of his body obscured by a cat is my proof that Chris and Darren are in a relationship”. Abby should know that this is proof of absolutely nothing. In fact, if you would listen to Chris with your ears instead of your eyes- you would know this is Will: Chris has confirmed Will is his boyfriend in several interviews.  Holding this photographed chin portion up to Will’s chin, it is easy to see that it could be him. That along with Chris acknowledging Will is his boyfriend and the many photos we have of them going about their lives as a couple, his outright denial of any romantic relationship with Darren and the fact that Darren identifies as straight, the evidence adds up to it being Will in the photo.  

I know you want it to be Darren, but assessing evidence isn’t about what you want to find, it is about looking objectively at the evidence and putting it all together in context.  You can’t take an isolated moment, slowed down and gif’d to within an inch of it’s life and call that proof.  

Evidence that supports Will as Chris’s boyfriend-  Will attended Hannah’s graduation and was with Chris for his mom’s funeral whereas Darren was seen eating lunch with friends in LA.  

Photos where they do boyfriend things. 

All of the credible evidence leads to the photo is Will. You claiming it is Darren simply because you desperately want it to be isn’t “credible evidence”, it’s simply the foolish, baseless claims of a few strangers who believe their fantasy is more important than the reality of the people involved.  In order to believe it is Darren, you have to dismiss all the overwhelming credible evidence that says it is Will.

Also real 

I have NO idea why these are considered “also real”. They are both gifs cut from videos produced for Glee Promotion. These were filmed as part of Chris and Darren’s job responsibilities. Chris actually refused to do The Wedding interview and had to be forced to do it. 

I have no idea how you can listen to The Wedding interview. and come away feeling like it was cc positive. It is an indication of how deluded you are and how bad you are at HEARING with your ears. In fact, you once again are “listening with your eyes” by screen capping it to turn it into a gif so you can fixate on 1/2 a second of content and pretend it represents the entire interview. When I first saw the interview, I was stunned at how anti-cc the it was. The entire interview is about how bad overzealous Kragen fans are-”the crazies” and how neither man wants to get your attention so they just stay off social media. 

This is a gif of Darren cracking up is when Chris suggests future-Kurt should be played by Marcia Gay Harden. It’s really funny and Darren laughs-so what? The video is supposed to fun- he’s doing his job. 

Here we have Chris’s closed off- his arms wrapped tightly around himself to protect himself. Darren might be boisterly laughing but Chris isn’t.  He’s barely giving anything. But regardless of what is really being shown here- - these videos were filmed 5 or 6 years ago as part of Chris and Darren’s work...what the hell do they prove related to cc? Absolutely nothing. They prove that both men did the job they were paid to do. They also prove you guys insist on using gifs to prove your fantasy because they are the best way to manipulate reality into showing what you want to see.   

Look at Naya cracking up at Darren, does this prove she loves him? NO, of course not- just like Darren laughing in a PR video he was paid to make doesn't’ prove he loves Chris. 

Watch the unaltered video for a real perspective. 

ajw720

@leka-1998 Apparently she is CONVINCED too much love, and all of the other headless images on C’s IG are just the PA.  Apparently C just likes to cut off his head for shits and giggles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am having way too much fun with this.(Me too, it’s fun explaining “credible evidence” to a lawyer who doesn’t understand it. When are you going to provide evidence that isn’t simple to discredit? I keep waiting for this to get harder but so far it’s utter nonsense.) 

Umm...”all the other headless images” aren’t there like 2 other headless images? No, I don’t think Chris cuts them off for “shits and giggles”, I think he cuts them off because cc assholes come on his social media and terrorize him when he posts Will’s face- especially back during Glee days- so he tamed it down so you hags would not bother him.  This isn’t rocket science here, it’s pretty simple. If you listen to Chris- of course you don’t-but if you did, you would see that your “proof” doesn’t align with what Chris says. Instead you “listen with your eyes” and disregard his pleas to stop shipping him with Darren. 

All of your evidence is in the form of a screen grab or a gif, have you ever wondered why that is? Has it ever occurred to you that none of your evidence comes from Chris or Darren’s mouth? In fact, you go to great lengths to prove what they say is not what they mean. It’s a sick game you play, but I suppose you know that which is why the “#1 rule of fandom is DO NOT involve the players”   

cc-still-going-strong

I will admit it is all history if they can give me ONE photo he looks at her like

THIS

Again, so weird that you used more Klaine screen caps as your evidence. It’s like you don’t understand that Klaine is different from Chris and Darren. 

I have no clue why you think these are excellent examples of anything but get ready to admit it is all history, my friend. Your photos are literally screen grabs from PR videos, smh.  I posted a bunch of responses to this challenge- you can see them: besotted (X), kisses (X), Wedding (X), Reception (X), Random (X), Video 1 (X), 2 (X), 3 (X) 4(X) Romantic 1 (X), 2

Some of the photos I included: 

THIS is a photo of a BESOTTED Couple!!!!!

This is also a photo of Darren BESOTTED.

flowersintheattic254 I want to play some more!!!!!! (OH Me Too, THIS IS TOO EASY) Can Michy rewrite D adding C to his lines on C’s birthday. Was that dubbed Michy and created by us.

I’ve never understood why you believe this joke is proof of cc? It’s a hilarious joke, but it’s really benign and certainly not indicative that they are lovers. They are former coworkers and this was right after Glee ended, so the joke is funny and timely. Today the joke would probably fall flat except within the fandom. Here you are again LiSTENING WITH YOUR EYES as you refuse to acknowledge both that Chris had named Will as his boyfriend and Darren had named Mia by the time this joke was told.  Now, 4 years later Darren is married to Mia so IDK why this is still so exciting for you guys.  Please explain to me why you believe this joke is proof of riot material...why is it something to get excited about other than it’s clever and funny? Again you have to take it out of context of all other evidence about their personal lives, ignore their outright denials they are couple, ignore Darren’s claims he is straight, believe he is lying every time he speaks about his sexuality, fabricate an entire backstory to the joke and believe it is as wink wink nod nod to fandom that they are a couple. It’s just a joke- the whole show was full of them.   To me, your delight with this has always reeked of desperation...and don’t kid yourself, after Darren told this joke every night, he went home with Mia. 

Or maybe some more glee panel. Look at D here.

Or shock horror, which bastard manipulated their legs to look like they were together?!!😮

I love BTS pics that show how close and relaxed they are with each other Michy.

He’s laughing at a joke here...I don’t get your delight. Again- believing this is special requires you to disregard everything Darren and Chris have said about their lives and to belief this one old gif supercedes the thousands of photos we have seen that disprove cc is viable. But even if you weren’t sure back when this gif was new, now we know that Darren is married to Mia and Chris has published Will’s face on his social media many times. In light of new information, your original theories about what these gifs show have been proven wrong and you need to amend your theories. Or at least that is what a reasonable, intelligent person who cares about the truth would do. History would indicate that you are incapable of amending your theories when new information comes to light and that you only care about your fantasy- the truth is inconsequential to you. History also indicates your “proof” is always taken as an isolated event because each time you are forced to ignore the mountain of evidence that disproves your theory. 

Yes, they are absolutely standing right next to one another but so what? This pic doesn’t prove they are in a relationship. If being next to some proves a relationship then Abby get married every time she rides the subway. They are coworkers on set- getting ready to film a scene together. This is a shot of their legs taken when they were standing around Zac getting directions when they first arrived. Once again, you manipulated a photo to make it look like something it isn’t.  But that is always how you “prove” cc is real- you lie and manipulate.  Darren hasn’t even been in hair and make-up yet, this very early in the day. 

ajw720

@flowersintheattic254 the h/edwig joke has been caught on video, but ofc, obviously we fucked with the audio. 

Nobody thinks you fucked with the audio you twit. Reasonable adults simply don’t think a benign joke told on stage is scandalous or indicates they are lovers. 

Just adding a few more special, genuine moments of D absolutely adoring his man, i mean co-worker he hates  

I have never said they hate each other so you need to get someone else to debunk that. In fact, I don’t think I have ever heard anyone except the cc fandom claim they hate one another.  It’s part of only seeing “always” and “never”. 

According to the cc lexicon- Chris and Darren are married or at least live together and have for several years and Darren is under an onerous contract that forbids him from letting the world know he is gay AND that he is in love with Chris Colfer. In fact they are forbidden from interacting in public and their characters were broken up in season 4 in order to break them up in real life.  So you are suggesting that Darren is sooooooo in love that he just cannot stop staring at the man he lives with for the 4 minutes he is on stage with all eyes on them even though he could lose everything under the contract? Cuz that seems like a shitload of risk for simply looking at Chris in a crowded room. According to your logic, Jenna is staring at Darren. I have no clue what he is looking at. He is certainly looking in Chris’s direction but given all the information we have- Darren was dating Mia-now he is married to her, Chris was living with Will-still is, Chris and Darren haven’t spoken in 4 years at least cubically  and they both denied they were a couple many times, I can say that the evidence does not support your claim that he is looking lovingly at Chris because they are passionate lovers and he just can’t help himself. I just posted a bunch of pics of Darren looking very lovingly at Mia while also holding her close and smiling- your 2-second gif vs all the evidence proving he is in a real relationship- married- with Mia- it doesn’t come close to comparing.  Google “Darren Criss and Mia Swier” and scroll for an hour- you see thousands of photos of them looking very much like a loving couple. Your handful of 4-9 year old gifs are pitiful and don’t prove anything except Chris and Darren were coworkers on a TV show where they played boyfriends.     

I’m not going to waste my time debunking these. They are literally the same as the above gifs- ALL onset Glee-in fact the top two are from more Glee promo videos in the same vein as the ones above. Still -they prove nothing.  

And of course the time C looked at D look he was the entire world

Again a slowed down gif from set. Do you see the patten of manipulation here? I wouldn’t say he looked at him like he was the entire world, It looks ot me like Chris looks up at him as Darren speaks to him and then he looks down. You slowed it down to make it more dramatic. It’s a very effective technique to change the mood- TV shows and movies do it all the time.  

But yep all we have is a few IG likes, that is correct Michy, that is all we got. 

I honestly have NO clue what you are insinuating here.  

Aw remember all those behind the scenes of them having fun together too. Guess these never happened either Michy.

Oh we are back to your favorite Bryant Park. They are coworkers killing time on. set. I don’t know why you believe this is so interesting. Yes, they are really cute but Newsflash: coworkers can have fun and joke around together and not be lovers. They had to kill hours before filming started. In fact they had to kill a lot of hours that day. They were on set for 11 hours and filmed a tiny fraction of that time. Once again, you have to take this out of context of all the other CREDIBLE evidence of Miarren and Chill, as well as both men denying a relationship and Darren is straight in order to believe this is something exciting.  

You showed me 1 pic that wasn’t on set. That should tell you everything. Honestly, I know you fully believe your own nonsense and you can’t understand how everyone else isn’t buying into it. But really, I should just respond to this with LOLOLOLOLOL because your evidence is so pathetic and absurd it is laughable. How a grown women can believe that a handful of 4-9 year old gifs representing 1 or 2 second taken from promo videos made for Glee-all slowed down for dramatic effect- can add up to solid proof of a secret relationship is mind boggling.  But it’s even worse because you are a lawyer -you know that evidence isn’t something taken out of context. You know that evidence is looked in its entirety and that includes what Darren and Chris testify about their own relationships.    

ajw720

remember that time D called C the life of the party on National TV?  

Remember the time Darren was asked “Do you take Mia to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor and cherish til death do you part” and he said “I Do” ? That trumps your “life of the party” comment. Why do you think calling a coworker “the life of the party” is indicates love? He also said “I’m straight” and that he wasn’t in a relationships with Chris- but you discount that because you don’t want to hear it -even though he has repeated those comments many times. Nope this is about you latching on to anything you can. It’s really embarrassing       

Chris may be the life of the party but he said this about Mia on TV- to a much bigger audience :  

I know you do not understand symbolism and you insist on taking this beautiful sentiment literally-and tying it back to Cunanan- so it makes no sense to you, but it is incredibly romantic. It’s a very beautiful, loving  sentiment for one’s life partner.

@ajw720, @flowersintheattic254, @leka-1998

[bre95611]

Dean’s Biggest Fears

So while writing part 2 of my meta series about Anna, Cas, and Dean in season 4, I wrote a meta within my meta. I was rewatching “Yellow Fever” for the series and realized there’s just way too much content to try and put in one small section. So I cut a lot of it. And then the amazing @theirprofoundbond​ read through what I had and suggested that I just bite the bullet and make a mini-meta about just what all I dug into about “Yellow Fever”. So now, here we are! 

There is another amazing meta the @drsilverfish wrote about the queer reading of this episode and I highly recommend you all check it out. You can find it here.

“Yellow Fever” is a treasure trove of subtext, showing everything that Dean is afraid of. Textually, it’s all fairly common fears, albeit some a bit more exaggerated than others.  I believe it is important to look in to why the fears that manifested, did. The Sheriff, shown as a germaphobe before he develops symptoms of ghost sickness, is later shown using steel wool to try and clean his arms, showing us that the ghost sickness feeds on fears that are already there! Because of this, “Yellow Fever” gives us wonderful insight into the inner workings of the most emotionally constipated man ever. We can use this episode to find out what Dean is truly afraid of.

Chronologically the fears get worse, so we can see subtextually what Dean’s worst fear is, as the sickness progresses.

The episode opens on Dean running from the cutest little dog ever. We know, looking back on the episode as a whole, that this happen when Dean’s time is pretty close to up, maxing out the ridiculous factor of the manifestations of his fears. The further in the sickness he gets, the less mundane they seem. We also know that he was hallucinating then, perceiving that cute dog as a Hellhound, a point that is shown through the mirroring of the scene in season 3 when he is being chased through the woods and us hearing the snarling of a Hellhound. SO, the very first manifestation the audience sees of Dean’s fears is something that has to do with Hell. The biggest fear Dean currently has is Hell. What happened when he was there. What HE DID while he was there. It is shown time and time again throughout this episode.

Backing up to when Dean is first infected.

The first fear we see chronologically is the teenagers! Going off the inference that the sickness triggers your worst fears the closer to death you are, we can take this as a manifestation of Dean's least pressing overarching fear. So what do the teenagers mean?

Dean wants to walk on the opposite side of the street because of the teenagers. This man that has been to Hell and back, kills the things that go bump in the night, is scared of the youths. (Any New Girl fans?) This strikes me as a representation of his lost childhood. Dean never got a chance to be a teenage burnout, at least, not in the same way as a standard teenager. Yes, he dropped out, but not because he was partying. Because his DAD. Because of the lifestyle they had to lead in their line of work. So he is afraid of not having had a normal childhood, afraid of his dad’s influence on his life during his formative years.

Next is the snake!

I’m not going to go in to much detail on this one as its heavily mentioned in the above meta. (Seriously, go read it.) But just so we’re all on the same page, it’s the D. Dean is afraid of the D. Afraid to acknowledge his attraction to men. This establishes Dean's closeted sexuality as the most pressing fear thus far.

Dean driving like a grandma is hilarious. When Sam mentions he is going the speed limit. And then he passes the motel they are staying at because he isn’t going to make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic. “I’m not suicidal!” I think what we can take from this is Baby is his HOME. And Dean is afraid of doing something to damage that home. This ties into the teenagers bit as well, in regards to his childhood. That car has been more of a home to him than any other building throughout his life. And that love for Baby was definitely established during those formative years, the initials, toy soldier, legos in the heat vents, all things that happened when his DAD was driving (do we sense a theme yet, kids? It's all John's fault). Recently having lost that home, when he went to Hell, he feels that fear a little stronger, knowing how much it hurts to lose Baby, and not wanting to experience that again.

The scene where Dean states he didn’t go to their room because of it being on the fourth floor is lovely for giving us the gift of the “Eye of the Tiger” blooper, but other than that, it doesn’t serve much else of a purpose, besides reinforcing the fear of heights Dean has, something the audience is already aware of due to the fear of flying. However, I do think it’s humbling almost that this larger than life, macho dude is scared shitless of heights, such a common fear. I believe it also serves the purpose of believability for the GA, presenting another common, meaningless fear amidst the subtext.

Next we see where Dean’s hallucinations start.

This screams fragile masculinity. The fear is essentially that he isn’t allowed to feel fear, or any emotions for that matter. This is another fear that has a link back to his childhood, especially his dad’s role in that upbringing. John raised him as a soldier, masculine to a fault. No “softer” emotions are allowed, real men don’t cry. So the words in that book are taunting him and his conditioned inability to show his softer side and experience a full spectrum of emotions and reactions. John raised a man, not a baby. This manifestation also doubles as showing us the overlap in Dean's closeted sexuality and his militaristic upbringing. It makes a connection in the viewership's minds between the way Dean was raised and the reason he is literally in Narnia. I think it's moments like these that have created the "John Winchester's A+ Parenting" tag on AO3.

The creepy lumber yard is just that, creepy. I really can’t think of ANY other way this could be read, but by god did I try. The gun though! Another one that gives me a fragile masculinity feel. Considering this episode is fairly logical in it's order of the fears, that view is on track. This is a portrayal of his fear of being pigeon-holed into his father’s alpha male plan for his life. Guns have a very phallic feel to them as well, so something that as well, a continuation of that childhood/sexuality overlap. Afraid to act on his bisexuality and pursue men.

The CAT!

OMG one of my favorite scenes in the show cause god bless that prepubescent scream Jensen manages to pull off. But I think this is another one that hints subtextually at bisexual Dean. Cats are typically treated as a more feminine pet, so Dean is afraid to embrace his more feminine qualities, embracing his emotions, chick flicks, etc. More literally though, a euphemism for vagina is pussy. So maybe this is a manifestation of his fear of only ever being with women and not being able to experience things for the first time (Coughcoughseason10coughcough).

Next we have him freaking out about the badges. The fake FBI badges. Flustered Dean is just a cutie. Fear of getting caught being someone he’s not though? Fear of not being himself??? FEAR OF STAYING IN THE CLOSET.

Yellow Eyed Sam was creepy and made me very uncomfortable. But here is our first manifestation of his fear of Hell. AND his fear of losing Sam to Ruby. It ties in directly to his confusion over what to do in regards to Sam and everything that happened with Ruby  during his time in Hell. Sam is telling Dean how he’s going to go back to Hell. Which we have established is WAY up there in Dean’s list of fears.

After that, we have Dean hallucinating Hellhounds coming for him followed by the Sheriff showing up and having black eyes. Guys. Dean hated Hell. He REALLY doesn’t want to go back, I can’t stress this enough.

Final thing we get is Lillith. Now drsilverfish’s meta has a really great queer reading of this scene. I absolutely love it. But another way that scene could be read is DEAN IS SCARED OF GOING TO HELL AGAIN. Like seriously guys, it’s at the forefront of his mind constantly. He is terrified of HIMSELF and what he did there. When Dean asks why him, Lillith says Dean knows why and that he should listen to his heart. Queer reading, Dean likes dudes. Non-queer reading though, he liked torturing souls in Hell, he was good at it. And that is something he doesn't know how to deal with. He’s afraid to be that guy again (which makes what Cas asks him to do in 4x16 even more fucked up, but that's for another time) and he’s confused as to how to move forward with that sort of knowledge about himself.

Summary of Yellow Fever, Cause I know I just threw a lot at you:

Dean’s fears are 3 pretty neat and tidy categories.

From least to most on a fear level:

1. Childhood/Daddy Issues

Dean fears what the loss of his formative years mean for him now as a grown man. He fears how the lost childhood, and what was basically the norm for him and his family due to his dad’s influence, has affected his development into an adult. This is the least pressing fear, as it is something Dean has been dealing with basically since he was a kid. I feel a lot of the initial introspection he might have had would have come into play back when the show canonically starts, with Dean having to face Sam, the biggest reason Dean didn’t really have a childhood.

2. Dean’s Closeted Bisexuality

There is a lot of bleed from Daddy Issues into this category, because of the influence John obviously had on Dean’s view of masculinity. The only reason this doesn’t rank number one in this episode is because its something Dean has been dealing with for a lot longer, and thus had time to adjust.

3. Hell

Dean is terrified of Hell. He’s afraid of what he did, who he is, who he became, and more than ANYTHING, he’s afraid to go back. This one gets top rank due to how fresh in Dean’s mind it is. At this point in the timeline of the show, Dean’s been topside for months at most, if not only weeks. We know he has been struggling to sleep and up until now hasn’t talked about it at all. The end of this episode is the first time we find out that Dean tortured souls in Hell, too. It puts repeat viewers in a cool situation where we see all these things Dean does in early season 4, desperately trying to save everyone he can, to make amends for what he did under Alastair’s tutelage. And it allows us to see early signs like the Lillith scene that depict Dean’s fear that all of this is happening to him because he was a bully in Hell, because he enjoyed hurting people. The layers of this show. Geez.

So hopefully here soon I will be able to get it together about get part 2 of the series finished soon. If you would like to read part 1 you can check it out right here, and I’ll update this one with links as I finish more of the series. Once again, thanks to @agusvedder​ for the gifs! I appreciate you!

Thanks everyone for reading! Let me know what you think!

[kinkingbird-blog]

“When the Mask Falls” Ninja Ship Party

NAME: “When the Mask Falls”

FANDOM: Shipgrumps

CHAPTER: Part 3 of a Series 

PAIRINGS: Ninja Ship Party

SUMMARY: A filled commission. Six months into his relationship with Brian, Danny invites him to move in. What starts as moving toward the next step of their lives together forces Brian's old demons to arise: imposter syndrome, running thoughts, and fear. As Brian's life begins breaking down around him, he worries he won't be able to hide it from Danny for much longer - especially if Arin's going to keep watching him so closely.

RATING: M.

WARNINGS: Angst with a happy ending, vomiting, panic attacks, imposter syndrome, sex used as a distraction

WORD COUNT: 18,453

AO3 Cross Post: [x]

Commissions are open!!

Buy Me A Coffee, if you’d like~

As they rested together in Danny’s massive bed, their bare and sweaty legs meeting from ankle to hip, Brian stared at the ceiling, still catching his breath and marveling at what he’d received. It was a gift. He knew it was. No one in the world deserved this much happiness at once.

Six months officially together. Six months of warmth. Six months of fondness. Six months of...of love. After what felt like a lifetime of pining for his best friend, being continuously blessed with his bright eyes and his laughs and his body seemed too much for Brian to keep for long.

Did he only have a limited allotment of happiness? Was he burning through it too fast? Did he only have a little bit left, and if Danny whisked away, would he be miserable for the rest of his life?

Brian was a trained man – one who’d worked for years to attain that level of skill and knowledge in his field – but during nights like this, when his adrenaline was finally slowing, he knew that he’d put himself in a corner by doing that. His mind seemed to work faster than anyone else’s. Danny might still be lying here thinking about how amazingly tight Brian was around his cock, but Brian was already three years ahead, anticipating their inevitable break up.

Sometimes he hated himself.

A hand on his chest made his thoughts still, and Brian watched Danny roll over and rest his head next to his on the pillow. With his cheeks still flushed and his gaze shimmering, he looked as languid and beautiful as a god, and Brian couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“We should do this more often,” Danny murmured.

Brian chuckled. “What, fuck? Twice a week isn’t enough for your rabbit libido?”

“Absolutely not.” He pushed in closer, his chest flush against Brian’s ribs, and he sighed and dropped an arm around Danny’s shoulders. No way in hell was he ever going to push him away when it came to cuddles. Silence spread between them for a few seconds before Danny opened his mouth again. “I just mean that, y’know, things feel...right when you’re here. It’s always been that way. It’s never gonna change.”

Shadow thoughts reared their ugly head, speaking so fast that Brian couldn’t comprehend them. Just felt the existential dread resting on his chest, pushing down more and more and more until he could scarcely breathe. “It’s because I’m fucking perfect,” Brian quipped in response, even as it made the rumble rise that much higher. “Not my fault you had nothing but a bunch of losers before me.”

Danny snorted and prodded him in the side, but didn’t reply. That was odd enough. Danny always at least tried to have a verbal comeback for Brian, even if it sounded ridiculous in hindsight. Straight up silence was rare.

He has something he wants to say.

Every nerve in Brian’s body sparked, hairs standing on end, as he listened to his lover’s breathing. Danny would inhale, pause, then let it all out quickly. Lift his hand, as if to use it to talk, and then drop it again and go back to thumbing over Brian’s skin.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Brian finally murmured when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore.

Danny cupped his cheek and met his eyes. “I get lonely when you leave, man.” Even after these months together, common pet names were still odd for them, and Brian felt the affection in that old form of address deeper than he ever had before. “My bed gets cold. I don’t sleep as good. It fucking sucks.”

Jesus. Realization filled Brian’s chest, and he stared at him unblinking. “Sucks to be you?” Sarcasm was safe. Sarcasm kept him from hoping for something that he didn’t think he might deserve.

A smile flashed up at him, nervous but true. “Your lease runs out in two months, dude. I know you haven’t signed it yet. And, uh...I think you should move in with me.”

Warmth and pleasure flooded him from his mind downward, engulfing his heart in such love that he could barely breathe. He rolled over and pressed in tight, until their noses rubbed together – until he could see every single thought in Danny’s brown eyes. “You really mean that?”

The grin only widened. “I wouldn’t kid about that, Bri. I love you – you know I do. And I’m sick and tired of watching you walk out my door to go to your shitty ass bed.”

“My bed is fantastic,” Brian declared as he wrapped his arms around Danny and kissed him.

Laughter vibrated against his lips. As Danny pulled back, Brian tried to chase him, but he wasn’t deterred. “I’m burning your mattress when you move in.”

“Yeah?” He kissed him again. “I’m burning your shoes.”

“Fuck you! I’m throwing all your old man clothes out!”

Brian pulled him on top of him and beamed. “I’m throwing out your shirts from college.”

Real terror filled Danny’s gaze. “You wouldn’t!”

Brian simply quirked a brow.

“You’re evil.” Danny rolled them over completely, so Brian straddled him, and dragged him down for kisses that filled them both with moans. “I’ll make you pay the mortgage with me.”

Brian chuckled and gripped his jaw lightly in one strong hand – a tease of power. “Careful, Danny. That sounds like you’re going to ask me to marry you next.”

He pulled him in.

Between kisses and gentle manhandling and faint groans of pleasure, Brian drowned in Danny once more. Bubbled up as brightly as he was with the golden sheen over their future together, he couldn’t quite remember where the dark storm clouds of earlier had come from.

 ~~

 Plans were easy to make. They were more like dreams than anything else. It was easy for Danny to lean on Brian’s chair in the office and tell him to look up a certain piece of furniture that he wanted to buy – but only if Brian wanted it too. He’d talk about starting to make space in his closet for Brian’s clothes. There’d be a question about what Brian might want to bring into the house from his apartment, since Danny had entire rooms that weren’t even being used yet.

It was perfect.

Brian was a logical man. He worked with numbers and facts, not things that were unattainable. The theory of perfection was impossible when it came to anyone – but for someone like Brian? Twice as unlikely. Something would inevitably fall to pieces every time, and with each day that passed without incident, it meant that the likelihood of failure doubled. Over and over and over it went, until he might very well be walking on a tightrope and peering down into the abyss and knowing that even the softest breeze would knock him over.

He did not deserve perfection. And that appeared to be precisely where their lives were heading.

 ~~

 “You’re really sure about this, huh?” Brian asked, interrupting Danny in the middle of talking about putting him on his homeowner’s insurance plan. “Like...honest and truly.”

Danny blinked at him. He set the bowl of popcorn in his lap aside with a quiet laugh. “I mean...yeah? Does it seem like I’m not?”

A few seconds of silence passed as Brian parsed through his thoughts, trying to pinpoint the exact reason he felt unsure. “I mean...it took me literal years to enter a relationship with you, Dan. You remember how we got together? When...when you weren’t even sure if you were still straight or not?”

More quiet. A hint of tension lingering in the air between them. Danny cleared his throat and turned on the couch to face him, their paused movie going completely ignored. “I, uh...no, yeah, I remember that.”

“So you can understand why I’m a little surprised that you brought it up in the first place.” Or that you’re even taking it as seriously as you are.

Danny reached out and snagged one of Brian’s hands, squeezing it. He kept his eyes on it as he spoke. “I took a while. I know I did. You didn’t have to be patient with me, man, but...but you were, and...I’m trying to show you that I’m serious. Okay?”

Brian glanced up at him.

“This isn’t about playing house. This is me trying to make sure you know that I want you in my life. Always. I think about you constantly when you’re not here ‘cuz it just makes sense for me to come around the corner and see you cooking in the kitchen or something.” Danny slowly met his eyes and ran his thumb over the back of his knuckles. “I know I kind of led you on there for a while. I know I kept getting scared shitless about what might happen if we...if we started being more than friends. And I’m glad we did – I really am – but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life wondering if my fucking commitment issues are gonna suddenly pop up out of nowhere.”

Brian shook his head. “Us moving in together won’t obliterate those. They might still be there, and they might come out, and we’ll have to deal with them-”

“I know, I know.” Danny laughed and looked away. “I know, Brian, like...I’m the one here who’s gonna drag this relationship down, if it ever gets shaky. I know that. My issues are fucking ridiculous, and you don’t have, like, a single thing wrong with you, and it’s kind of intimidating, but...”

The shadow voices rose again, whispering in the back of Brian’s mind, a sinewy sort of melody that he couldn’t completely ignore.

With a sigh, Danny called his attention back to him again. “Look, I love you, Bri. I love you. That’s not gonna stop any time soon. And I wanna prove it by taking this to the next level.”

Brian’s lips quirked. “Even if it’s scary?”

“Even if it’s scary.”

“And I make you remodel your entire bathroom?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Brian laughed. “All right, fine. So you put me on the fucking mortgage and insurance. What next?”

Danny beamed at him, looking up through messy curls, staring at him with far more love in his eyes than he’d ever deserved.

He was breathless with the weight of it.

 ~~

 Brian stepped away from his laptop to make some coffee, too restless to sleep and too jittery to keep looking at quotes for moving companies. He hadn’t even gotten too far into planning – he still had to go looking for boxes – but it was too much to handle all at once tonight.

Evenings like this called to mind some of the more desperate lows of his friendship with Danny. That phone call, the one where he told him about how he’d be moving to the United Kingdom. The response he’d received. It trickled down his back like shards of ice, chilling him to the bone. Sometimes, even if he couldn’t recall every single precise word, the devastation still came heavy, like snow that turned into hail, beating him down until he didn’t have lungs to breathe with.

He hesitated next to the kitchen counter, then sagged against it, feeling old concerns scratch at the back of his throat. Was Danny asking him to move in so he could guarantee that he’d keep Brian there, no matter what? Did he not trust Brian to stick around anymore?

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, took a deep breath, then tried to force it down, like sticking his foot in the garbage can and pressing.

These were reasons why he didn’t deserve the innocent happiness he saw in Danny’s gaze. He’d hurt him. Over and over again, he’d caused him pain in order to distance his own love from Danny. It was safer that way, he thought. Sensible. He could say that he wanted to move across the ocean to pursue better job opportunities, but the lies had been sand in his mouth, and every damn time he thought for sure that Danny knew.

Brian didn’t like lying. But it was all he ever did.

“Stop,” he whispered. He forced himself to inhale, filling his chest to the brim. He wouldn’t bubble over tonight. He wouldn’t let himself linger. He couldn’t. He just...he…

The pain stayed. Cloying him into a false sense of security, it traced claws over his muscles, then stabbed deep the second he thought the danger had passed.

It hasn’t been this bad in a while.

Brian considered the alcohol he had trapped high in his kitchen. He rarely indulged, and given that his boyfriend and most other friends didn’t touch the stuff he didn’t often find reason to bring it down. The temptation was there tonight. He stared at the closed cabinet, then moved away, wandering aimlessly through the apartment. He told himself that he was going to start sorting through things that he’d donate or throw away rather than take with him in the move.

Instead he ended up in front of his mirror.

For long moments, he simply stared, taking in the way he appeared to the world. The t-shirt with the physics pun on it. The jeans that had seen better days. Wrinkles on his hands and by his eyes. Silver hair slowly consuming the dark. Bulging eyes, thin lips, massive nose, thick gut, thighs covered in stretchmarks--

The pain was here. It sliced through him, dragging him into the thick of it, where there was no escape.

Danny deserved better than a man like Brian. Danny was...was beautiful and remarkable. He represented a far greater success story than anything Brian could ever do. He inspired people. He changed lives. He made everyone think that they could be better, if only they fought like he had. He had a laugh that lit up a room, and eyes that smoldered just as well as they sparkled, and a smile that made whoever saw it think that they were the only person alive.

It didn’t make sense that things had changed as quickly as they did. That Danny had...realized somehow that he wanted Brian. That he’d ached for him for years. That didn’t happen in real life. No one had happiness like that – especially not someone far past their prime, and who’d spent years making sure that their most secret, intimate feelings were kept hidden away.

Had Brian somehow manipulated Danny into wanting him without even trying? There wasn’t another logical explanation. Taking a man who had identified as heterosexual for his entire life – who even today still didn’t know what label to apply to himself, in this climate of ever changing sexuality language – and making him believe that he loved him? That he wanted to have sex with him? How did that happen? How did someone really have no prior concept that they might be slightly less than straight for almost forty years, and then suddenly wake up with a boner for another man?

Somehow he’d done something wrong, he thought.

A ping in the living room startled him, and Brian fought through the remnants of the haze before he remembered his phone, the message alert, that he had a text, and he forcibly turned himself from the mirror and breathed once more. He wandered back into the living room and checked his phone.

It was from Danny. A screenshot of a furniture website. A couch – far bigger than his own, something to compete with the massive sectional that Arin and Suzy had – that would finally make Danny’s living room look a little less barren.

“Plenty of room for cuddles and kicking your ass in games! Can’t wait for you to be here. The house is too quiet. The only way I’m staying sane is by thinking about when you’ll be here with me forever.”

Such sweetness dripped like honey into his mouth. Did he deserve it? No, maybe not. But he was a selfish man. He always had been. Why else would he have accepted Danny’s new feelings without questioning them? And he wanted this. Wanted Danny.

Maybe he was an imposter, and maybe Danny hadn’t figured that out yet. Maybe he never would. Maybe Brian would go his whole damn life knowing he didn’t deserve love as pure as this, or friendship as steadfast as he received from Arin or Brent or Ross, or kindness as rich as what he felt on a daily basis even from total strangers.

But he was going to fight to keep it. And nothing would stop him.

He sent a text back – ”It’s hideous. It’ll match the rest of your decor perfectly.” – and felt his lips quirk when Danny sent him a pouting selfie back. He saved the picture immediately, then sat down and picked up his laptop again.

Moving companies. Right. He could work on that. He could ignore the throbbing ache in his chest still – where the claws had marred him the worst. He could get things done and not be so fucking useless.

Easy peasy.

 ~~

 “Morning!”

“Morning.” Brian gave Danny a quick kiss on the lips and smiled at him fondly as they passed in the hallway. “Ready to do all my work for me?”

“Fuck you!” Danny sang out brightly as he disappeared around the corner, and Brian laughed. He sat at his desk with a sigh and immediately opened up his emails, preparing to slog through the important ones and neglect the shit. It’d take him a little while to wake up, and sipping his coffee while doing this always helped.

Having Danny beside him never helped matters of focus. It was a process – becoming comfortable enough in their relationship that they could still be pleased to see each other and occasionally play some kind of stomping foot wars under the desk in the name of flirting, but also no longer feeling like live wires the second they both made eye contact and being unable to complete any work again until they snuck away to the bathroom for a few stolen moments of making out. They were relaxing so much more now that it felt...domestic, somehow, to sit here and go through emails and to know that Danny would be back soon, and that they’d sink into the quiet of their keyboards clacking while simply breathing each other in.

Brian took another drink of coffee when he heard footsteps behind him, and he glanced, then turned fully in his chair when he saw Arin lingering in the doorway. “Hey.”

“Hey!” Arin grinned. “Heard you agreed to the move. Congrats, dude!”

So it was out, then. He anticipated a long string of well wishers.“Did Danny just tell you?”

“Nah, we talked about it, like, weeks ago.” Arin waved it off. “Between you and me, I’m pretty sure I gave him the idea, heh. Don’t tell him I said that – he’ll kick my ass.”

Something uneasy stirred in Brian’s chest. Vulnerability. Suspicion. He couldn’t let that manifest. He focused on quipping, taking a second longer than usual to find something to spit out. “Don’t lie to me about that, Arin – we both know you wouldn’t recognize a good idea if it spanked you.”

Arin laughed, shaking his head. “No, seriously! It was...kind of cute, actually? Like, in a gross way. He ended up in my office all sweaty and doting and shit one day? Probably after you two snuck off during lunch – yes, I know about that, we all know about that, don’t look at me like that. Anyway, he was nervous or whatever about how happy he was with you, and how he wanted to show it...”

As Arin went on, Brian stopped taking it in. He stared at his face, feeling the foreboding spread little by little.

This was exactly what he should’ve expected, and he felt like a fool for not recognizing it earlier. Of course it hadn’t been Danny’s idea to ask Brian to move in. It hadn’t been Danny’s idea to have feelings for him either – it had taken Brian’s entire breakdown to put the idea in his head in the first place, even after years of friendship – so why would it be his idea to make their relationship a little more permanent? Brian could foresee a future moment – Suzy flashing her wedding ring or something and telling some new acquaintance all about Arin had proposed to her, and Danny overhearing the story and immediately going out and looking for wedding bands.

It made sense. Danny was impressionable. Gullible. Easy to trick and tease. Why would this have been any different?

“...and I figure it’s just about time anyway. If you guys had been living together right when you got back from England, I bet he would’ve been proposing to you in a week, like, let’s be real – you two are perfect for each other, and I can’t believe he was so blind for so damn long-”

“Well, if you gave him the idea, then it’s only fair that you help me move in,” Brian interrupted. There was something hollow inside of him. His words felt wooden. He swallowed and pressed on, clinging to the joke. “I think you should go ahead and mark your calendar for a few weeks away – the last Saturday of the month, maybe? I’ll put my feet up and drink a beer or two while you carry all my boxes inside. What do you say?”

The joke should’ve been easy to move the conversation along. Wit was Brian’s most efficient weapon, and he wielded it with ease. But something about Arin’s expression didn’t sit well with him. He looked like a scientist peering through a microscope. Like he was going to start taking notes.

Coldness spread through Brian’s gut.

“If you think I’m gonna be free labor without you even buying me a fucking pizza, you’ve got another thing coming,” Arin finally quipped, his lips quirking. “But, uh, nice try, buddy.” Arin patted him on the head, and Brian made a show of trying to bite his hand, making him laugh. “Do you wanna get some lunch today, by the way? It’s been a while since just you and I did anything together, hasn’t it?”

Maybe because you do everything with Danny instead of trying to do anything with me.

The thought made him so unsettled that Brian immediately spoke. “Nah, I’ve already got plans, but some other time, okay?”

Arin nodded, eyes still firm on Brian’s own, and smiled. “Sure, dude. Hey, lemme know if you need anything today.”

“As always, boss.”

Arin left the office, and Brian turned slowly to face his computer without quite seeing it. Had his earlier thought been jealousy? He didn’t think so. He had a long history of being jealous of whoever Danny spent his time with in the past, but those fleeting emotional memories hadn’t been ones he’d revisited once their romantic relationship began. Arin had Suzy, Brian had Danny, and he’s wasn’t about to be an asshole who made his lover stop seeing his best friend just because he wanted more time with him.

No, it hadn’t been jealousy about Danny’s time with him. But the feeling had been remarkably similar.

It was true. Arin and Brian rarely did things alone together, and if they spent time with each other it was typically because Danny was there instead, from tours to recording sessions to panel appearances at a con.

So was it jealousy because Arin never tried to initiate a one on one friendship with Brian before today? Possibly. But he couldn’t exactly blame him. With how effervescent Danny was, it was any wonder people took notice of Brian at all. So many nights spent on stage without people responding to him unless Danny deliberately focused attention in his direction. So many tweets directed toward Danny specifically. So many streams where Brian had taken control of the situation only by forcefully inserting himself into the limelight, not by request or demand.

Dear Danny and other members of NSP.

Danny was the golden guy. Brian had known it all along. If even once he had a friend who he introduced to Danny for the first time, it was inevitable that they came to prefer his company over Brian’s. After the lifetime of depression Danny had, Brian couldn’t exactly fault him for it, but…

It would’ve been nice for Arin to ask him to lunch out of his own interest in being better friends with him – and not because he looked at Brian like he was a puzzle to solve.

Emails. Brian took a deep breath, cleansing the tension in his chest, and focused on his screen again. It took a bit to find his stride, but he hit it, and he refused to let his attention divert – even when Danny slid into the chair beside him and squeezed his hand.

 ~~

 “You sure you can’t just move in tonight?”

Brian heard the teasing words, but he didn’t attend to them as well as he wanted to. His head felt slightly swimmy, and he doubted it had anything to do with the single draft beer he’d had, nor with Danny’s presence. No, the stress of work, he reasoned, was what had gotten to him, paired with knowing exactly how much he had left to pack. “I don’t even have the living room packed up yet,” he murmured, taking another sip of the beer.

Danny snorted. “Just get rid of it. We can buy new shit. Y’know...make it our place, not just mine.”

More gentle lurching in his belly. More sips of his drink. Maybe he was getting ill.

“Unless, like…I mean, if you want, I can just wait until you’re all moved in first, or...I can go ahead and buy everything?” Danny let out a light chuckle. “Waking you up all hours of the night with questions about furniture or whatever’s gotta be annoying.”

Brian shook his head, but didn’t reply verbally. His gaze drifted to the nearest TV, where a game played by a team he didn’t give a shit about. His legs itched. Maybe if he moved around a little, he’d actually be able to focus.

It was rare nowadays that Danny and Brian even had a chance to come out to a restaurant on a weekend night. Brian’s schedule was far more open than Danny’s, but he spent it all packing, and Danny was always working on videos, songs, interviews, seeing old friends, thinking about the future…

Brian blinked a few times, trying to clear his head. When was the last time he’d even slept the whole night through?

“...good game?”

“Hmm?” Brian blinked and looked at Danny for the first time in twenty minutes. “I have no idea. It’s on, that’s all I know.”

Danny wrinkled his brow as he slurped up the remnants of his soda through his straw. “Then, uh...why’re you paying more attention to it instead of me?”

A very good question. Danny was his boyfriend. He was the entire reason Brian had gotten in his car and drove here for a proper date, not just the two of them sitting on his couch and eating takeout food again. But something about the entire situation had him on edge. Sleep? Work stress? He considered them both logical possibilities, making tick marks on the whiteboard he often saw before his mind’s eye. Correlation did not equal causation, and…

“I canceled plans to be here.”

Something in Danny’s tone finally resonated in Brian’s gut like a bell. His lover was a patient guy. He didn’t often sound so...so snippy unless something was genuinely wrong. But there it was – that edge, the sharpness that Ross sometimes took on if no one in the office was paying attention to something he was working on. From Ross, it felt bratty. From Danny, it felt hollow and depressed.

Brian’s heart skipped a beat.

“If you needed to get something else done, we could’ve rescheduled,” Danny murmured. As Brian met his eyes, he saw the ache right on the surface – not hidden even slightly. How was Danny able to be so open and vulnerable like this? Was it because he was so generally loved by everyone around him that he hadn’t had to fight for attention in years? Brian couldn’t even imagine being that free.

How many doors were still tightly locked in Brian’s mind with shadows trying to poke beneath them?

As a chill resonated through Brian’s veins, he reached across the table and covered Danny’s hand. When Danny didn’t pull away – didn’t even look away – Brian leaned on old habits. “I’m out of it. Lots of work. Lots of packing. It’s shit. But you know that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be here.” He tilted his head to the side. “I can’t think straight around you. When I’m this tired, my head just...goes places. Thinks about things that...maybe I shouldn’t be considering in polite company.”

Danny’s gaze flicked down to the table, and he shifted, turning his hand over so his fingers tickled over Brian’s inner wrist. “I mean...”

“What’s that?” Brian leaned closer, trying to catch his eye. “Does someone want to hear exactly what those inappropriate thoughts are?”

Danny chewed on his bottom lip, and, against his better judgment, it seemed, a smile peeked at the corners of his mouth. “Like you can ever keep your mouth shut anyway,” he finally said with a giggle. “You like to hear yourself talk so much.”

“And you like to listen.” Adopting the more sinewy tone was easier than it should’ve been, given how he continued to stomp on the quiet spark of panic at the base of his stomach. “But, if you don’t want to hear me...maybe I should just show you instead.”

Danny pulled his wallet out, flipping through it clumsily and pulling out a few bills to set on top of the check they’d been neglecting. “Fifteen minutes of anticipation-”

“Who said anything about waiting until we get home?”

Eyes snapping to Brian’s, Danny watched him, an ember of heat in his gaze. It was one that Brian knew wouldn’t take much at all to coax into life, and he jumped on the opportunity, standing up and taking Danny’s hand and pulling him out of the booth.

They’d never been so obviously clandestine before – not even at work. While the office felt like an extension of home in many ways, all thanks to the careful decorating that invoked inspiration without the stress of a standard office building, the fact that Brian led the way to the bathroom with promise in his hurried pace meant something far more exciting. And Danny would go along with it, of course. He always did.

He was weak for Brian. It seemed that over thirty years of repressing a supposed side of him meant that he couldn’t resist a damn thing that Brian offered him. It was kind of him to be patient with Danny in the past, he thought, when giving him as little as a snog in the hallways probably would’ve made his pants fall off without any additional help, but he didn’t have to wait anymore, did he?

Why not use this? Why not let his lover feel good anytime, anywhere?

Why not embrace the distraction?

The bathroom was a single stall, and Brian pushed Danny through the door and locked it behind him. His lover’s breath was already catching, and as Brian pressed flush against him, palming his jeans told him he was already hard.

“Eager,” Brian murmured with a smirk.

“I-I missed you, okay?” Danny leaned forward for a kiss, and Brian hesitated for only a moment before he returned it.

It wasn’t the first time Brian gave a blowjob while on his knees in a filthy bathroom, but it was the first time he actually enjoyed it.

At least...he was pretty sure that he did.

 ~~

 Normally Brian was fantastic at keeping track of time and dates, but something about Danny’s visit back home to see his family slipped by him completely. One night he was texting Danny and asking if their weekly Netflix date was still on for Friday, and the next second he was being reminded that Danny’s flight left that morning, actually – that they’d rescheduled to eat out two days before on purpose.

It wasn’t often that Danny got out of town to see his folks – and the fact that his sister would be there at the same time was a huge boon. For the first time outside of major holidays, they’d all be together – and for a whole week, too, to help celebrate their parents’ milestone anniversary together.

It worked out, really. It gave Brian time to focus on packing.

He imagined he might’ve gotten more done so far if he hadn’t been so busy at work. With his nose to the grindstone there, it was increasingly more difficult to focus on getting boxes packed and sealed ahead of time – and now the move was only two weeks away. The deposit had been put down on the moving company. Empty boxes filled his living room. Everything was set up to make it as speedy and efficient as possible.

He just...couldn’t focus.

That entire week, he did nothing but go to work, then come straight home to focus on packing. It should’ve made it easy. Danny was so enjoying his time with his family that he wasn’t reaching out to Brian very often. There were no distractions. Yet even still, Wednesday came with only one new box packed the night before, and the crunch was starting to tighten around him.

“Hey, Brian?” Ross stepped in his path as he headed toward the door at the end of the day. “What’s up?”

Brian blinked. He’d barely spoken to anyone in the office for days now. It took a few extra seconds for the clouds to clear away. “Nothing. Just on my way home. You?”

Ross grinned. “Yeah, same! Hey, so, I know you’ve probably been lonely as hell with Danny being gone-”

“The time away’s been refreshing, actually,” he drawled. “I’ve gotten a lot done.”

Ross snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, anyway, uh, figured I’d see if you wanted to come hang out tonight. Some other friends’ll be there, and we’ve got some new tabletop games, and-”

“I have to pack, Ross,” he snapped. Any other time he would’ve thought of how this invitation was obviously preceded by something very important that Brian hadn’t figured out yet, and he would’ve apologized. Today, however, Ross was simply an obstacle in his way. “Maybe another time. Have a good night.” And he pushed past him, and the door shut behind him, and Ross let him go, and that was all there was to it.

Getting home, however, afforded him no pleasure. His phone was silent and in his bedroom. He put book after book into a box, like an assembly line, and he thought of Danny, and how he’d be home soon with stories of his sister and his mom and his dad, and just how lovely it must be to still have a fucking family to go home to at all.

He tried not to think of the deaths of his parents anymore, if he could help it, but tonight all he could see were their faces. Had they been proud of him? If they could see where he was now, would they be prouder still, or would they be humiliated by what prestige he’d given up just to come here and sing songs about dicks? And what would they think about his relationship with Danny specifically? Things hadn’t been awkward when he came out to them in the first place, but how would they take his boyfriend? Would they think they were a good fit, or would they advise Brian to think about looking for love elsewhere?

He couldn’t even imagine sitting with either of his parents and telling them about his depth of feeling for Danny – how he burned for him to the deepest part of his core. They’d never really been that type of family in the first place. How could he pretend that they would’ve had excellent advice to give him, or even the patience to listen?

Danny’s family adored him. They were probably listening to anecdotes about his work and his friends and…

Brian? Had he even ever told them about him? Had he ever came out? Did they love him even still?

They had to. No doubt they loved him and built him up, and…and worshiped him. Admired him for everything he’d done when life felt so impossible. They respected their Danny, who’d thrown his medication into water, who’d not gone back to it, who’d learned to stand on his own two feet. Their incredibly whole Danny. Brave. Strong. Full of everything that the world seemed to lack.

He was whole. That was it, really. He wasn’t broken inside, like some people were, and he didn’t even realize that, did he?

As his thoughts turned and spun, losing coherency, he realized he was staring into the box with a book in each hand, unmoving – almost unbreathing. How long had he been kneeling there? When had he stopped paying attention? Brian set the books down with more care than he’d ever used in his life, then leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. He tried to apply logic to why he couldn’t breathe deeply. There had to be a reason for it. There always was. It was easy, if he’d only try…

Somehow he ended up on his back on the couch with all the lights on, still in his clothes, teeth unbrushed, brain unfocused. He fell asleep there with his hands folded over his stomach and his too-small lungs.

Dreams were a window into the soul, and he knew it well. He dreamed of his beautiful, perfect Danny, being carried away by millions of adoring people, and when he tried to follow them, he tripped into a hole, where he yelled and begged for help and was never once even thought of.

And then he woke up and forgot about it before his eyes were even open – was only left with the lingering sense of unease that robbed him of safety even here, in his own home.

 ~~

 Even with Danny’s return to work, Brian was unsettled. He couldn’t find the words to ask him about his time away – how he’d enjoyed it, how his parents were, if his sister was well – and Danny didn’t volunteer the information to him either. He had too much to catch up on at work. Day in and day out he was recording videos with Arin, barely even pausing for lunch, and the quick hand squeezes and cheek kisses that Brian used to prize felt like nothing more than excuses now. Apologies, perhaps, for how he was in no real hurry to get back to him.

The move was almost here, and nothing was done – but Danny hadn’t even asked about it. And perhaps that was for the better.

Three days until the move, Brian ended up in the kitchen at work, his hands trembling as he reached for the pot of coffee. Did he need more? He wasn’t sure. His eyelids were heavy, though, and his control was fraying, to the point where his emails were piling up and he ignored conversations and let the list of his responsibilities go unfulfilled.

Coffee. Coffee was the answer.

The pot was full, almost overflowing onto his hand, and he hyperfocused every ounce of his attention on it, feeling blindly for the mug overhead while keeping an eye on the level of steaming coffee. A slip – just the barest movement of his fingers – had the mug falling, where it shattered on the counter, spraying shards of ceramic across his chest as he exclaimed and slammed the pot down.

“Fuck!” Brian concaved forward, shoulders rising, chest collapsing beneath the weight of his shout. That word – just one word – encapsulated everything he was losing and that he feared, and he felt the break on the edge of his tone just before his teeth clicked shut painfully.

Breathe. He stared at the massive pieces of the bland white mug surrounding him, his hands splayed on the countertop. Don’t stop breathing. Don’t let go. Don’t do anything. The shards blurred before his eyes as his breathing came faster and faster, over and over and over, until his heart burned. Fragile ribs splintered under the pounding weight of it.

And then he felt the eyes.

“You okay?”

Arin. Brian squeezed his eyes shut, bit his lips, and stood up tall so quickly he nearly lost balance. “Fine.” With one quick movement he jerked his chin upward and applied the veneer, then turned to look at his boss.

The naked concern on his expression nearly brought him to his knees.

He thought to that earlier lunch invitation weeks beforehand. The curious look in his gaze. Brian had interpreted it as Arin simply seeing him as a puzzle – like a toy that he wanted to tinker with until he was satisfied – but no, there was something far more frightening therein.

He knew. He knew exactly what Brian was struggling with. How could he read him so easy? Was it that obvious? Did everyone know what a fucking waste of air Brian was? That he was a shitstain smeared across the ground?

“Brian.” Arin wrinkled his brow. “Sit down, dude, you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. I haven’t slept.” The lies came easier than truth, spilling over his lips, and he had a vivid flashback – Arin’s words against his ear through the phone six months before, the quiet Nothing is fucked, and how it had lulled him to think that everything could be okay with Danny, not risking falling apart like it was now. “Once I actually get some decent fucking rest and get this move over with, I’ll...yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Brian was so used to any word he said being enough to convince Danny. Why would Brian lie to him if it wasn’t for humor, after all? There was no motivation for it. Arin, however, didn’t look convinced. Nothing about his expression changed. Only the inescapable worry pressing down on him.

“I think we should go sit down together,” Arin said far slower, like he was still thinking through his plan of attack, and the itching in Brian’s legs only grew. “If you’re, uh, tired or whatever, we can get you settled on the couch, catch a few z’s, and then we can talk afterward, maybe?”

In seconds, Arin would no doubt get his footing as Brian’s boss again. He was good at what he did – fucking great, even – but the normally unflappable Brian was keeping him from transitioning straight into expressing his concern and asking him if everything was all right at home and if maybe he was having some kind of second thoughts about this move, if he didn’t deserve it or happiness with Danny or-

No, he couldn’t be allowed to figure that out. If he went down that rabbit hole, Brian was damn sure they’d never get out.

“I’m fine,” Brian snapped. He was moving before he even realized it. He pushed past Arin. Arin hit the doorframe, and Brian moved down the hallway. “I’m just, I’m going to run an errand, and I’ll be right back.”

The next thing he was aware of was sitting in his car, hands on the wheel, staring outside. How tempting it would be to drive home. He remembered doing that last time. Remembered emptying his stomach into the toilet until he felt as empty as he was as a human being – the vacant shell, the remnants left behind of who Brian was before he realized how utterly unexceptional he was and withered and died. He could do it now. He could go home and shut himself up, and maybe everyone would forget until tomorrow.

Or maybe he’d keep sitting here for an hour and wouldn’t even realize it.

He had nowhere to go. No errands to do. He drove around the block four times on pure autopilot before he pulled back into the parking lot and came inside.

He would just...find Arin and smooth things over, like they’d never happened. He’d give him a smile and a joke and some fingerguns, and then they’d move on, right? Easy. He stepped inside the thunderous air conditioner of their specific chain of offices and headed down the hallway, looking for him. Not in his office. Not in the kitchen. Not even Danny was at their desks.

That was when the cool panic began to set in.

As a rule, private conversations were rarely held in the recording area due to the backup microphones being constantly on at all times so that they’d never risk losing footage in the event of an emergency shutdown. It was considered a violation of privacy. Sensitive situations needed to be respected, lest they open up an entire can of worms.

Yet when Brian finally went to the last place he looked – the studio itself – what he saw brought him to a stop. Arin and Danny, sitting together, Danny’s back to the glass, Arin’s brow furrowed as he talked. He had no way of hearing what they were saying, but what else could they be talking about? Who else was having a fucking breakdown in the middle of the office just because a mug had broken? Brian lingered at the furthest door. There had to be a new plan of attack. How likely was it that he could get Danny to completely ignore everything coming out of Arin’s mouth? He imagined himself bursting in and flinging himself between them in slow motion, shouting, begging for Danny not to listen.

The fantasy hadn’t even finished when Arin locked eyes with him and shut his mouth – and then Danny turned his head.

He was wearing that goddamn concern now too.

Brian left. He ran. And this time he went home.

 ~~

 It wasn’t like he’d left incredibly early. In no time at all, everyone else would be heading home, Brian reasoned to himself, and thus he hadn’t exactly given them huge reason to worry. Danny wouldn’t come running over – at least, he wasn’t likely to, especially with how busy he was – and Brian could head everything off at the pass.

He just...needed to look like he was busy, in case there was a trap. If Danny walked in with his key - why the fuck did I even give him that? - he’d see that the apartment was a disaster. The signs of Brian’s half focused packing were scattered from wall to wall – objects that he’d begun wrapping in newspaper before leaving them on the floor, a trail of books from the shelf to a box that was half empty, abandoned dishes on the kitchen counter that he’d never quite gotten to washing. A man lived in a fugue state here. And he had to hide the signs. He couldn’t let them worry. Couldn’t let them know.

Packing was easy, he reasoned. No one sane struggled with something this simple, especially when they were over forty years old and had a doctorate in an extremely prestigious field.

But there was too much. Every time that Brian touched something – intent on packing it to lessen the damage – something else caught his eye, and he would put it down and wander over, then freeze again, head turning to the next object. By the time he heard his phone ringing, he hadn’t done a damn thing.

He picked up his phone, then dropped it on the couch when he saw Danny’s name. Feeling like a child, Brian chewed on a hangnail and stared at the screen, listening to the quiet vibrating until, finally, it went silent. He looked away. What kind of man did this? Who ignored their lover like they were nothing? How was he going to explain this?

Why did he feel so completely out of control of his own life?

His phone buzzed with a voicemail, and he forced himself to take a deep breath and listen to it.

”Hey! Um, this is Danny! I guess you already knew that, uh...listen, I just wanted to see how you were doing. I realized we hadn’t really...seen each other for the past couple of weeks, outside of work, and, like, with the move coming up, I kind of left you hanging instead of asking if I could help, and that was shitty of me, and...and I’m sorry. Um, can you give me a call and just let me know how you’re doing? I’d really like to hear from you. Love you!”

The message was dangerous. As Brian dropped the phone slowly back to his hip, he stared at the wall and felt the ever pressing weight of Danny’s worry on his shoulders. So this was it. This was how everyone found out that Brian – the man who held everything together like he was made of steel – was falling apart. Going insane. Collapsing from the inside out. This was how the world found out that he wasn’t worth his salt.

This was how Danny slowly discovered that Brian was weak and so not worth everything he’d given him.

We can still fix this.

The spark of panic flared into a smoldering wildfire, ripping through Brian as he grabbed his phone, his keys, and his wallet and headed straight for the door.

Brian was a master of deception and lies. For years he’d made a brand out of insulting humor. The amount of times that he’d spewed falsehoods just to make Danny think he wasn’t attracted to him was in the hundreds. And he could still lean on that here too. That was all it would take: just one little lie, and he could get his life back on target again.

He was fine. He was. He’d held it together for decades, and he wasn’t about to let go now.

The drive to Danny’s was done in the same fog he’d been struggling with for weeks, with the sharp-teethed voices in the back of his mind muttering viciousness that he could barely even translate. It was better this way, they said – better for Brian not to be known by a single person. If they found out what a fraud he was, they’d be happy to take the excuse to leave him. If they realized how he was only a mockery of a comedian, they’d turn their backs. If they knew he couldn’t do a damn thing without second guessing every step of the way, they’d finally realize how foolish he was.

It was better to hide it all. And Danny was just gullible enough to take it. After all, everyone wanted to take the easy way out. If Brian offered him the opportunity to pull the wool a little more over his eyes, he’d thank him for it – anything so he didn’t have to do the hard work of...of comforting, or…

Unbidden, images of Suzy holding Arin’s hand and talking to him quietly in the office during times of tight deadlines or sharp criticism or a dropped sponsorship deal raced through his mind. How Arin leaned into her. How she accepted the weight of him and pulled him in close and held him together when he was feeling weak. What did that feel like, to be so vulnerable with another human being? To know that they could be relied on to carry the burdens of their loved ones when they became just a little too heavy?

He couldn’t remember ever giving someone that opportunity. Not even once.

Fuck, his throat hurt. It tightened with a knot, and he swallowed it back down.

He pulled sideways into Danny’s driveway and climbed out of his car, making a beeline for the front door with his keys clacking in his shaking hand. He knocked on the door, and the second it opened, he pushed inside.

“Hey!” Danny grabbed him by the shoulder. “God, I’m fucking glad to see you. What’s up? Why didn’t you just call me back?”

The gleaming adoration in Danny’s eyes were almost enough to bring everything tumbling down. Every piece of the mismatched stones that Brian had shoved together into the tower that held him high above others...just one word of love from Danny would blow them over and leave nothing but the cracked foundation that he was so desperate to hide.

He couldn’t do that. If Danny saw – if he knew everything he’d been hiding…

Brian made one last ditch effort toward deception. It was easy. All he had to do was lean on Danny’s weakest point – even if it made him feel sick to do.

“Sometimes a guy just has to see his boyfriend.” Brian cupped Danny’s cheeks, scratchy with stubble, and came up onto his tiptoes, holding his gaze. “You missed me, didn’t you? You said it yourself. So here I am.”

Danny wrinkled his brow. “Brian...”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He thumbed over Danny’s bottom lip. “Just a guy who’s sick and tired of waiting to see his lover. You feel that way too, right?”

“I-I mean, yeah, but-”

“Then c’mon.” He pressed their chests together and let his warm breath tickle over his mouth. “Show me how much you missed me. Make love to me like you mean it.”

Hesitation. For once, Danny didn’t reach out and touch Brian. He didn’t drag him in. And that just meant Brian would have to do a little more of the work himself.

He kissed him with a hum, tilting his head to deepen it immediately, and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the heat of Danny’s body against his. He’d wanted him for years. He’d jerked off to him every damn time he was drunk and home alone. The amount of times that he’d whispered Danny’s name into a pillow while some anonymous guy fucked him from behind was innumerable.

So why couldn’t he just turn his fucking brain off and enjoy this?

He forced himself to slide a hand through Danny’s hair, just barely avoiding tangling in the messy curls, and he felt the other man’s breath hitch as he touched him. Yeah, c’mon, just like that, give in to me. As Danny melted slowly, he slid his arms around Brian’s waist, one hand fisting in his shirt.

Just like he was supposed to. Almost on cue. Thank God, thank God.

He just had to get Danny to fuck him. If he could goad him on until he was bruising Brian’s hips in those beautiful hands of his, then even better. He just needed him to let go. He needed him to see that Brian was fine, and that he didn’t need to worry, and that everything was going to be okay, and nothing was going to fall apart.

He needed Danny to fucking swallow him whole. Trap him in his ribs. Let him snuggle up right next to his heart, where it was warm and safe.

Danny tried to pull away from the kiss, but Brian pursued him, and he felt the moan against his lips as he gave into him again. The bedroom wasn’t too far away, but Brian didn’t know if he trusted himself to get Danny that far without questions coming up.

It had been quite a while since he’d been fucked on the floor, feeling the carpet fibers scrape his body to hell and back. Did Danny still have lube in here? He’d jokingly told him that he had a bottle of lube in every room in the house, just in case – that it was always good for a gag, at least, even if it never got used. Condoms? Whatever. They were fluid bonded now.

He didn’t fucking want anybody else, just...just Danny, just this, just the promise that it would never end.

Promises fell apart as fast as cheap toys. So did wedding rings. So did mortgages and two names on the insurance and everything whispered between the sheets-

God, his mind was fucking everywhere. He zeroed in on Danny again, coaxing him down to the ground, until he could scramble into his lap and grind against the hardness he felt in his jeans. Brian winced – he himself wasn’t hard, and the sensitivity of his flaccid cock being pressed against something so unforgiving was painful in a horrible way rather than a pleasurable one, but…

Fuck, why wasn’t he fucking hard?!

He eased a hand between their hips to hide it, bucking the heel of his palm against Danny’s cock and swallowing up the sweet moans he fed him in response. Tongues tangled, slick and hot.

It was when Danny reached to lace their other hands together that Brian’s heart skittered in his chest.

What was he doing? Why did he think this was the right way to go?

Just...get over it, Jesus, just let him fuck you, c’mon, he’s ready, he’s into it, and he’ll forget all about whatever the hell is going on in your head if you can just man up and do this shit.

Brian let go of his hand and reached between them to open up Danny’s jeans. He pushed him to the floor with his chest and held him there, panting against his mouth for just a second before he resumed the sloppy, unfocused kisses – ones that Danny kept trying to take control of, and that Brian would ignore. He yanked his lover’s jeans and boxers down and took him in hand, jerking him to full hardness with no real rhythm. His palm felt too dry against the smooth skin of Danny’s cock and he bit back the urge to apologize.

Just a little more. Maybe he could even try to take him dry. It’d hurt like hell, they’d be risking pain and bleeding and...but maybe it’d be better than stopping to look for the lube, and-

Danny’s hand suddenly touched between Brian’s legs, flush against his soft dick. And he froze.

They both did. Brian kept his lips lightly pressed against Danny’s, brain frantically looking for an excuse. A solution.

Danny turned his head and let out a shaky breath and, goddamn it all, but he spoke before Brian could think to kiss him again. “You’re not...you’re not hard.”

Fuck. Fuck. Any other day it would’ve taken no time at all for Brian to quip something out and get the show on the road again, but here? Now? A cold sweat beaded over his neck and forehead, and he dropped his hands to the carpet, holding there, staring at Danny’s chest.

“Are you not enjoying this?”

I love it, Brian wanted to say. But he couldn’t loosen his jaw. His teeth ground together painfully, making his vision blur.

“You don’t need to do this,” Danny said quietly, his soft voice tickling over Brian’s skin. A drop of sweat ghosted down his own cheek, as if chasing the words. “I’d rather just talk to you. See what’s going on. You don’t have to keep...hiding it.”

Something began building in Brian’s stomach as he sat up slowly. It traveled gradually up his chest. His throat.

“It’s...it’s been hard, isn’t it?” Danny whispered. “You didn’t want me to know it was hard. That...that something was going on. Because if I did...”

Brian shook his head. Where were the words to tell him to shut up? Why was he trembling?

“...if I knew something was wrong, I’d ask, and you wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God…

Danny touched his cheek – his sweat-slick, overheated, ugly, disgusting cheek. “Brian, please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t watch you like this. I love you too much to let you hurt like this alone.”

Brian was off him like a flash.

“Brian!”

He ran – but he ran straight down the hall, stumbling into the bathroom and flinging himself on his knees in front of the toilet. It was too similar, spilling the contents of his stomach because of Danny - almost like the past few months hadn’t even happened.

The difference was that he wasn’t alone. Arms wrapped around his ribs, a warm and insistent presence, and Brian squeezed his eyes shut.

Humiliation wouldn’t even come to him, and neither would shame. After all this time of holding back, hot tears streamed down his cheeks as he struggled to take a full breath. “I-I can’t anymore,” Brian stammered. His fingers dug into the porcelain, trembling, trying to find purchase in anything around him. “It’s too much, i-it’s just too...”

“I’ve got you.” Danny’s voice, though tight with emotion, was soft in his ears, like silk dragged over sensitive skin. “It’s okay, Bri, I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re not alone anymore.”

He leaned back into the weight of Danny, nothing left to vomit, and shook in his arms, head tilting back so that the light from the hallway bled past his eyelids. The sounds he made – choked sobs – didn’t sound human, and he scarcely believed they came from him. All he knew and felt was the pain in his body, everything he’d been holding back for months – years – coming out in his tears. The fear, the agony, the knowledge that no one could put up with the amount of shit that Brian carried in his heart.

But Danny was right there. Right there. He wasn’t leaving. He was rocking Brian back and forth and whispering sweet comforting words. “You’re never gonna be alone again,” he said at one point in a voice that barely sounded like his own, and Brian had just enough presence of mind to realize that Danny was crying too.

Brian hadn’t let anyone see his tears in years. He hadn’t let anyone cry for him in even longer. But here, in this tiny safe room, with nothing but love surrounding him, even as horrible as it felt to let go, he couldn’t do anything else.

Not when Danny was giving him permission – and the acceptance to spill over the riverbanks.

Brian twisted in his arms and buried his face in Danny’s neck, soaking him in tears as he clung to him like a child. Yet Danny held on. He was firm. He wouldn’t be toppled over like a Lego tower. Everything that Brian feared – that he was too much for someone, that he didn’t deserve to be loved, that it was only a matter of time before he was left alone – stayed at bay. None of it came true.

There was time yet for his thoughts to be proven right. But he was damn glad it wasn’t tonight.

After long minutes of weeping, strength left Brian, until he was dry of tears and aching. He wasn’t a young man anymore. He couldn’t just throw himself around and have tantrums like this without a bone deep burning in all parts of his body – his bruised knees, his pained lungs, his red eyes. But even as he whispered two words - “I’m sorry” - Danny didn’t let go.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Danny murmured, running a hand through the short cropped hair on top of Brian’s head and leaving tingling in his wake. “C’mon. Easy does it.”

Never had Brian seen this side of Danny before – this calm, gentle, coaxing part of him that drew Brian up to his feet. He could almost imagine him taking a crying child into his arms and carrying him away to rock him until he could breathe again. He’d never said a word about wanting children, but the image was fixed in Brian’s mind now so vividly that he let the fascination distract him from just how hard it was to stand.

He leaned into Danny heavily with a sigh that nearly started his tears again – how was he so tired? The steps out of the bathroom, into the hallway, and down to the bedroom should’ve taken seconds, but they felt like hours, each careful placement of his foot taking intense deliberation lest he bring them both down to the ground.

He’d pulled all nighters while working on his PHD. He and Danny both had stayed up for days on end when they were at a crunch point with their albums. But he’d never felt this exhausted before.

It’s all caught up to me, he thought with a certain calm. It’s here. There’s no getting out of it, is there?

It was a bit clumsy, but once he sat Brian on the edge of his bed, Danny tugged the shirt over Brian’s head, along with his shoes and jeans. He hesitated and looked at his dresser – considering pajamas, maybe – before he shook his head and gently eased Brian down. His head landed on a pillow as soft as a cloud.

Faint panic sparked in his gut, and he grabbed hold of Danny’s hands, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m here.” Danny smiled at him. He kicked off his pants and crawled into bed in his shirt and boxers, then curled up beside him. “It’s okay, Bri. Everything’s gonna be okay now. Got it?”

Brian opened his mouth, but his voice, so raw from crying, was impossible to find, and he settled for nodding as he nuzzled into the soft, well worn cotton of his lover’s t-shirt. A deep breath filled his mind with nothing but Danny – his smile, his laugh, his love.

Under the hand petting up and down his back and the quiet, faint humming of what Brian recognized as a lullaby, he fell asleep within seconds, plunging into a dreamless state of weariness.

 ~~

 He’s out. Danny let out a deep breath and closed his eyes as he felt Brian relax. He’s out, okay, it’s...it’s okay.

How he’d managed to hold up such a calm facade, he had no idea. He wasn’t built for this. Going from burning alive for Brian’s touch to crying into the back of his neck within sixty seconds nearly gave him whiplash. Hell, the fact that he’d even gotten him calm in the first place when he was falling apart at the seams...

How had he missed all the fucking signs along the way?

Danny rubbed his eyes as he rolled onto his back, tugging Brian closer as he went. Brian twitched in his sleep, but stayed under, and Danny exhaled slowly.

It didn’t make sense for Brian to fall apart. That was part of it. Brian was an incredible wall of intellect and cleverness. He didn’t give into these silly emotions like everybody else around him. He was unflappable to the very end. Right?

Apparently not.

God, how he’d shaken while Danny held him. He’d sounded like a fucking wild animal as he let out all the shit he’d been dealing with, wail after wail after wail. Danny was used to a more primal Brian in one instance only, and what happened in the bathroom had nothing to do with that. How eagerly he’d tried to seduce Danny – and how quickly he’d succeeded…

Had he done that before?

Danny’s mind flitted to the last time Brian had been so eagerly spontaneous – the bathroom at the restaurant – and covered his eyes as the weight of what must have been going on in Brian’s head sank down on him. He’d been trying to escape. Or distract him. Or both. And Danny had played right into his hands.

What a fucking shitty boyfriend he was, letting himself get caught up in being busy and working his ass off instead of paying attention to how Brian was falling apart. When was the last time he’d offered to help him pack for the move? Or that he’d even stopped by just to see him? Was this all about the move and nothing else?

No, the man who’d fallen to pieces and cried like that, it had to be about something different than planning for a new future. Right? Or was he wrong?

He couldn’t do this by himself. There was a reason that Danny’s preferred method of helping people going through things leaned on distraction rather than intimate conversation. He hadn’t even asked Brian what he needed, or said anything to help. All he could do was hold him and cry with him.

The depth of despair that Brian had felt… Even now, it could suffocate Danny as he considered it. He’d never been as empathetic with someone like he was with Brian. Was this what love was, truly and deeply, or was there a connection there that he could only ever have with this man?

So many questions. So much pain. So much that Danny couldn’t just fix. He hadn’t been in a long term relationship in years. How was he supposed to know how to handle it without fucking things up and making Brian feel worse?

Arin. He thought of the words he’d shared earlier that day – how he pointed out none so delicately that Brian was fraying at the seams, and had been for quite some time. How he’d shaken Danny out of his cluelessness and had told him with complete seriousness that if he loved Brian, he’d call him on his bullshit and get him to stop hiding whatever was going on. He’d anticipated having to do a little more work to get him to come out about it. He’d thought there would be deflection and laughter. The afterglow, he’d reasoned as Brian plied him with kisses, would be the perfect time to get him to start opening up about it, both of them floating in the honest intimacy that they ended up in every time.

Arin had been doing this for a lot longer than Brian and Danny had. He and Suzy had one of the healthiest relationships he’d ever seen. So maybe he could help.

Danny gently extricated himself from Brian’s arms, and when he heard the other man mumble something in his sleep he leaned to kiss his forehead, his heart swelling in his chest. He needed all the help he could get.

He wasn’t going to risk losing Brian over something as simple as this. As surprised as he’d been by the events of the day, he still knew him. He knew that Brian wouldn’t hesitate to run, if he thought it was better for Danny. Hadn’t he done that already? He’d gone to a whole fucking other country just to get some distance between them, even when he knew that Danny was falling apart over it – all to hide how he felt.

No more of that. Danny stroked Brian’s cheek, his forehead creasing with fervor. It’s you and me, man. You’re not gonna call the shots for me anymore. We’re figuring this life shit out together.

As he left him sleeping in his bed, Danny closed the door quietly behind him, then went to the living room and pulled out his phone. He shot Arin a text. “Can you maybe come talk to me about Brian? He’s here at my house. Sleeping. Things got bad. I think we’re fine, but I don’t know what the fuck to do when he wakes up.”

Arin’s quick “On my way now” reassured Danny to the point of sitting down and taking a deep breath. If he held all this in, would he melt down just like Brian had? He thought of the therapy he used to have – how it was the only place he could actually talk about what he was feeling without worrying what others would think of him. Suddenly he missed it, and he regretted laying his shit on Arin when he was just a friend – not even a professional paid to get his time taken up.

Was there a decent therapist nearby in town?

He didn’t have to wait long. Traffic appeared blessedly light, and a few minutes later there was a text coming through. “I’m outside. Didn’t wanna knock and wake him up.” Small favors. Danny went to the door and let Arin in, and immediately hugged him. Something he was thankful for in his relationship was that it inspired him to be more relaxed with touching his friends. That hug felt like the one thing keeping him afloat.

“Hey,” Arin murmured, squeezing him unabashedly in his arms. “He still asleep?”

“Yeah.” Danny pulled back and sighed. “I-I honestly don’t think he’s slept much for weeks now. You were right. He looks like fucking hell.”

Arin looked at the bedroom door as he moved past, rubbing the back of his neck, while Danny locked the door again behind him. “Yeah. Hell, he might sleep through the night. Might be just what he needs.”

Danny leaned into the door and curled his hand into a fist against it. “How didn’t I see it? I fucking work right next to him-”

“Hey.” Arin caught his arm and pulled him away, guiding him toward the couch. “No, don’t do that. That’s just gonna eat you up inside, dude. The past is the past. You gotta move forward. Both of you do.”

Danny nodded. They sat together, Danny perched right on the edge of the cushion, wanting to be able to spring to his feet if he heard Brian so much as start to stir. “I just...I was so fucking blind. My own boyfriend...I hate that I didn’t catch it. I don’t know how to do better in the future.”

“We can talk about that later.” Arin kicked off his shoes and curled up on the couch, watching Danny closely. “We’ve gotta talk about Brian, man. I don’t know what he’s gonna do when he wakes up. He’s been pretty damn deflective for weeks now. He could just try to pretend that nothing happened, or that we’re blowing it out of proportion, or...”

“Yeah.” He tented his hands and pressed them to his lips. The temptation to let more self hatred pour out was almost impossible to resist, but...no, he had to focus on Brian right now. All of him. “What do you think was going on? I haven’t even gotten to ask him yet.”

“You didn’t get anything?”

Danny shook his head. “He got here, he tried to, uh...distract me, and then when I tried to get him to talk he just fucking broke down. Threw up. Started crying. It was fucking bad, dude. Broke my goddamn heart.” His throat tightened up again in response, and he looked away. “Did I do this? Did me asking him to move in do it?”

“No, I don’t think that adds up. Didn’t you say he was excited when you first talked about it?”

“I think he was.” Every part of their relationship was cast in a different light now. He didn’t want to believe that Brian had been lying to him about how he was feeling this entire time – that he was happy and at ease in their relationship – but how was he supposed to tell for sure? “He’d...yeah, he looked like he was super stoked that I’d even brought it up. We talked about how I wanted him to know I was serious. He didn’t try to talk me out of it, he just...”

Arin hummed quietly in acknowledgment, and Danny felt like he could break under the gentle sympathy. “I don’t think this was your fault. If you’re thinking it is, get it out of your head right now.”

Bastard, knowing exactly what Danny was thinking. He stared at his feet instead of looking at Arin and showing him every damn thought in his head.

“Have you ever seen him break down like that today?”

Danny shook his head. “Not once. We’ve spent so much time together, and I’ve never seen him tear up. Not even when he’d get drunk and talk about his parents or anything, it was just...calm. Serene.”

Arin sighed. “That means it probably goes back fucking far as dicks.”

“You think so?” He blinked at him.

“Yeah. What’s the phrase, still waters run deep?” Arin stared back at him, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Like, let’s think about what we know. He’s a perfectionist. He’s a master of bragging humor. He builds himself up constantly-”

“-and maybe it’s the opposite of what he feels?” Danny wrinkled his brow. “That’s what you’re getting at?”

“I mean, it could be, right?”

Had he been barely holding himself together their entire friendship? Danny thought back, remembering quiet conversations years before they even met Arin, when Brian would let something self-deprecating slip out under his breath, then laugh it off when Danny would look at him – as if he hadn’t even thought he’d notice what he said.

“What the fuck do I do?” Danny asked quietly.

“Talk to him.” Arin put a hand on Danny’s arm, a quiet but strong connection that Danny clung to. “Find out what he’s going through. Then just...go from there.”

“To what?” Danny bubbled up with a bitter laugh. “How am I gonna be any help to him? I’m just the asshole who brags about how he fucking stopped therapy and medication all on his own! No trouble! Just, yep, toss your pill bottle in the fucking water, guys, it’s all good!”

“You don’t do that,” Arin murmured. “Every single time you tell that story, you make sure to say that people all have to do things differently – that you got lucky. What do you think’s gonna happen, that you’ll just...send him over the edge?”

Danny covered his face with his hands. Utter helplessness spread through him. “I just...I don’t...”

“Danny, listen to me. You’re the only person here, between the two of us, who knows what it feels like when everything’s too hard to bear. When you can’t figure out how to go on anymore. And if Brian feels even a little bit like that...then you’re the best person to help him.”

“But I might fuck up-”

“Okay.”

Danny looked up at him, frowning.

“People fuck up.” Arin slid closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Danny collapsed into him. “I’m not saying you’re supposed to save him, dude – that’d be fucked up of me. Brian has to be the one to decide he wants help for whatever it is he might be going through. But you can be by his side and show him that it’s not a lost cause.” He paused. “The amount of times that Suzy has brought me up out of a fog just with her telling me she loves me, or that I’m not alone, or pointing out something about me that she thinks is amazing...it’s incredible. It works. And it’ll work for you too.”

“It’s not that easy, is it?”

Arin shook his head with a wry sort of smile. “It’s never easy. I wish it was. Whatever’s gonna happen here, it’s a process, okay? You know that.”

He did. It had taken ages until he felt exasperated enough to throw away his medication, then even longer before he came out from under the foggy withdrawal of what it had done to him. He’d been warned it wouldn’t be easy, and they were right. “I just...want him to know I’m not running away. Even if he feels like shit. Even if things feel hard. I’m staying.”

“Then tell him that.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah.” It wasn’t hard. Just being the one to tell Brian that he wasn’t alone – even if he thought he deserved it – could do so much good, he thought optimistically. And it was one step toward doing better than he had. No more missing the signs of his lover struggling. He didn’t want to baby him or hold his hand all the time – and Brian would probably throw a fit if he did – but he had to get his head out of his own ass.

Things had changed for them. Their relationship was completely different than it ever had been before. He couldn’t keep treating Brian like he was still just his best friend and nothing else. He had to keep his eyes open and see things that he might’ve never called him on before because of how he was raised – believing that guys had to work through their shit on their own.

He wouldn’t have ignored the signs of a girlfriend going through pain or trauma. He wasn’t going to do that for his boyfriend either.

“Do you really think I can help him and not ruin everything?” he asked quietly, searching Arin’s gaze for answers. “That...that I can stick around and show him how serious I am about this? And help him through shit?”

Arin grinned. There wasn’t a single question in his eyes. No doubt. No consideration. Just a strong, unwavering faith – exactly what he needed. “Dude, you know you can do anything, right? If I had to pick, I’d always want you at my back.”

It was so weird, how things had changed in just the past few months. Before he’d dated Brian, Danny would’ve laughed and joked away from the way his words embraced his heart and made him feel…happy. He would’ve shied away from feeling an intimacy between the two of them. But it was okay. It wasn’t weird or bad or wrong. It didn’t make Danny weak.

Finally he could see why Arin loved being as open and touchy-feely and kind as he was. It felt fucking amazing, if he could just drop his guard and invite people in.

“You want me to stick around for a while?” Arin asked quietly.

“Nah.” Danny slipped out from under his arm and stood with a sigh. “I...I want it to be just me, this first time. Is that selfish?”

“What, to want to be the guy your boyfriend leans on? To want to prove to him that you’re gonna stick by him no matter what?” Arin scoffed and rolled his eyes, smile widening. “You’re golden, bro, c’mon.”

Danny pulled Arin into a hug. Only a moment of hesitation – surprise, he was willing to bet – happened before Arin wrapped his arms around him in response. “Thank you. Seriously. I-I feel like I can actually do this now – whatever it is.”

“You need anything, you call me, okay? I’m serious. Any day, any time, I’m here.”

Danny squeezed his eyes shut and shakily exhaled. He’d never had such a fervent belief in someone being like a brother to him. He believed Arin. “Thank you. Uh, same, I mean it.”

Arin broke the embrace with a beaming smile. “Text me tonight about how things went, okay?”

“You got it.”

As Danny let Arin out, he lingered at the door, watching him walk away with a quiet sigh. Regardless of how Arin had built him up, there was still the temptation to be intimidated by what was about to happen. He had no idea what had made Brian break down in such a disastrous way. If it had anything to do with Danny, he’d feel guiltier than he could say, and the likelihood that he’d break down again was high. It was terrifying to think about. He didn’t want someone he loved to turn into that ruined, animalistic creature again. He wanted him to be okay.

It’ll take time, he reminded himself as he slipped back inside and shut the door behind him. Stay the course. Talk to him. And it’ll be okay.

He made his way to the bedroom and lingered for a moment, watching Brian’s peacefully sleeping face. Was there tension still in his body? Pain? Could he feel what was hurting him even still?

He crawled under the sheets with him and curled up close. He’d wait.

 ~~

 When he began to stir, he was sore as hell.

For a few blissful moments, Brian had no memory of what had happened to make him so tense in the first place – and then it came crashing down, every single thing he’d been trying to avoid for weeks, and he heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

It had come for him, then. All of it. All the pain. The agony. The fear. The frustration. It had hit him all at once to the tune of Danny’s voice.

But it was okay. He could still talk his way out of it. Though he felt exhausted down to his bones, sleep wasn’t an option anymore, and he felt oddly like he’d gone through some kind of catharsis. So he needed to have a breakdown every now and again. That was just fine. He could manage to do that in a far more private way in the future.

He could even make sure that Danny was calm. That he didn’t think any of this had to do with him. That it was a fluke, and it would never happen again.

Easy.

He opened his eyes, then pulled back when he saw Danny’s face a few inches from his own. Shit. He thought he’d have a few more minutes to figure out a plan. Just seeing the way his eyes sparkled in the low light from the curtains gripped Brian’s heart with guilt. Why wasn’t he stronger? Why did he have to exist in this pathetic, humiliating way? Why had he made Danny worry by seeing him like that?

Danny brushed his fingers over Brian’s cheek, and he fought the urge to lean into his touch. The stronger he could be, the better.

“You can keep sleeping,” Danny murmured. For once, there wasn’t an ever present smile shining at him. Just that quiet neutrality.

Brian grunted and shook his head. He could still taste the vomit in his mouth. He hadn’t even rinsed it out before he fell asleep. He rolled onto his back so Danny didn’t have to smell it. “I’m fine.” Fine in every way. If he kept sleeping, he’d only wake up feeling like he’d been put away wet again, and he would risk it being taken as a sign of weakness. And though he might be weak, Danny sure as hell didn’t need to know that.

“Okay.”

“Seriously. I’m fine.”

Danny hummed in acknowledgment – in that little way that told Brian he didn’t believe him for a second – and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he looked toward the closet. Silence stretched between them both. No, Danny suspected that something was very wrong – maybe even pitied him – and it only made the guilt stab claws a little deeper into his soul. I have to do better. I can’t keep living like this. I have to hide it more. What kind of asshole has a PHD and can’t even put on a good show? There was a reason Brian rarely went to improv classes with them. He knew his weaknesses.

Maybe he needed to take a few more anyway.

“Brian.” Danny touched his arm, and the bare tickle sent a shock straight up to his shoulder. He wished he wouldn’t touch him. With every second of contact, Brian felt something lurching in his body – something that could collapse at any moment. “Can we talk about how you’ve been feeling recently-”

“What, tired as hell?” Brian snorted. “That’s how I’ve felt for the past few years, Danny, and if you’re that worried about an old man not getting very good sleep, I regret to inform you that you’re going to be seeing a hell of a lot of it once we’re living together. Insomnia is genetic. My mom had it. I have it. It’s just normal, all right?” He turned his head to look at him – sealing the deal. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

Danny stared back at him. For the first time, Brian saw the flicker of hurt in his gaze, and he swallowed it down. He’d punish himself with it. He’d show himself what would happen if he couldn’t get better at dealing with his own shit. He’d lose Danny that much faster.

He could avoid that, if he just tried.

Danny pressed his lips into a thin line as he flicked his gaze over his face, like he was trying to memorize him. Was this it? Was this where he told him he wouldn’t be moving in? Bile tinged the back of Brian’s throat, and he swallowed, desperately trying to keep it down.

When Danny opened his mouth, his words were quiet but firm. “Why do you need to lie to me?”

He hadn’t expected things to be laid out quite so cleanly. Brian opened his mouth, then closed it again, wrinkling his brow. It was a hell of a question. Apparently he hadn’t done nearly as well with concealing how he’d been feeling as he thought he had. A wordless sound came out, embarrassing, and Brian looked away. He had a sharp awareness of the location of the door. Of where his keys were. Of where he parked. Run, his body whispered, run, run.

There was nowhere to run, though. Not anymore.

He was a fucking idiot, acting like he could just shove everything down and hide it once more when he’d already showed it in stunning clarity. Only someone worth their salt could manage that game, and Brian certainly wasn’t. The beginnings of hysteria kissed his mind. After all that time spent trying to look like someone better than he was to Danny…

It had been wasted. Either he could lie to him again and hurt him, or he could just...talk about it, so that at least Danny knew he wasn’t trying to burn things down intentionally.

Could he do it? Could he show him an ugly place inside of himself? He tensed, and Danny thumbed over the sensitive skin on his inner arm, up and down and up and down, a dizzying rhythm that made his head spin. I already did. He thought of the vomit in the toilet – the second time that he’d spilled from his emotions toward Danny. How did this man have such a grasp of him? How did he made it so damn easy to wiggle deep down inside of Brian and stir up the parts that he hadn’t touched in years?

“I’m not worthy of you.”

Silence. “What?”

He absolutely hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Brian sat up and rubbed his eyes. Lightheaded from his earlier exertions, he nearly tipped out of the bed, and Danny caught him, then kept an arm around his shoulders. Numbness spread deep through him like ice, but the warmth of Danny’s touch began to thaw it, and when he realized his vision was blurring again he felt a stab of familiar panic. No, no, he wasn’t going to cry again. He didn’t fucking do that.

“What do you mean, you’re not worthy of me?” Danny asked softly – coaxing him like he might a wild animal – and Brian choked on another rough sound. What right did Danny have to sound so gentle? So sympathetic? Like he could hold the world on his shoulders like Atlas and never flinch under the weight of it?

Brian was heavy. He could drag him down beneath the surface of his emotions and fucking drown him there. He couldn’t make him suffer like that.

But the game was so damn exhausting. Keeping the mask polished and in place, hiding the stress he felt, keeping people distracted by the gilding on his life… Eventually the facade would have to crack. It was only a matter of time before Arin would’ve caught a sign like he had with that coffee mug. Within days of moving in with Danny, he could almost guarantee he would’ve snapped and shattered something. It had to fall apart, logically.

Perhaps it was better for everything to fall to pieces here and now, before Brian had moved in.

“Danny, fucking look at me,” he whispered roughly. He lifted his hands – dry, calloused, wrinkling, already dotting here and there with hints of the age spots to come. Just from that angle he could see the unattractive swell of his belly – could remember how it bulged beneath his shirts no matter how perfect his posture was. He could see the stretch marks that coursed over his thighs where his boxers were riding up. “Don’t you get it?”

Danny crawled around to face him and sat with his knees gently pressed against Brian’s. Brian could instantly see how his face didn’t have a wrinkle on it. How his hair, even flattened from laying on the pillow, held a sort of life to it that spoke of the effervescence inside of him. How his eyelashes were long and his lips smooth. He was gorgeous. “...okay, so, what am I looking at, exactly?” Danny asked as he tilted his head to the side and skimmed his eyes up and down Brian’s face, torso, and legs.

He paused. “...I look like a troll beside you.”

Danny burst out laughing so suddenly that spittle hit Brian’s face, and he covered his mouth as Brian howled in frustration and wiped it away. “I-I’m so sorry, Bri, I just, are you fucking kidding me?” Danny grinned as he reached out and cupped his face. “Fucking look at you. Do you know how annoying it is that all I have to do is look at your eyes and I get hard? Those are panty droppers, man! I’d kill to have your eyes!”

Brian frowned and glanced down. “Okay, but-”

“Guess what?” Danny’s hand slid down to cup the back of Brian’s neck. “You don’t look like a supermodel. And neither do I. I look like a prepubescent boy most days. Do you know who I’d kill to have an ass like you do? I literally look like a child. I can’t stand it.”

That was absolutely impossible. Brian shook his head, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Do you miss the fact that all you have to do is say one damn word to me, and I’m ready to fuck you? Do you think that’s just a game?” Danny looked over him again this time, but far slower. “Like a troll. You’ve gotta be joking. You’re the first guy I’ve ever noticed an attraction to.”

“Is that not suspicious to you? I...Danny, you never felt attraction to a man before? Literally never? That’s not how it works. Attraction can feel differently for various genders, yes, but there’s not just a gay-for-you thing out there outside of movies or books or whatever.”

Danny chewed on his bottom lip as he seemed to consider it. “...you think I’ve never thought about that before? What’re you so worried about there?”

“That I manipulated you into thinking you were attracted to me, obviously.”

Danny shot him a look. The shock in his eyes told Brian that he’d never so much as pondered the idea. “You’re joking.”

“No!” Finally frustration bubbled over. “None of this is joking! Why would I kid about this? Why would I fucking want to throw a wrench in my relationship with the man I fucking love over a joke? Would you stop asking that?!”

With the way he’d leaned back a few inches, Danny was taken aback, but he came forward again just as quickly and rested his hands on Brian’s bare thighs. His touch wiggled past his desire to run all over again, rooting him to the sheets. “Okay. That was fucked up of me to say. I’m sorry, seriously, I wasn’t thinking, but, like...you’ve gotta understand that I’ve never felt that way. Ever. Before I even knew you were interested in me, I was already struggling with how I felt about you. Remember? It wasn’t you, dude. I’d been freaking out about it for fucking years. How the hell could you have manipulated me into wanting you if you’d been literally on the other side of the planet to keep that from happening?”

Ah, logic. Normally his best friend. It felt like his worst enemy now. He only liked logic if it played into his plans, but here? Trying to undo what he’d believed for every damn day they’d been together? Impossible.

“It’s not just that, it’s...” It was all so hard to say. These were dirty little secrets he’d kept quiet for a reason. Even now he wanted to shut down.

“Bri. Please, man, we’ve gotta talk about this.”

But he couldn’t hold it in. Not if Danny was going to sound so desperate.

“You’re going to figure out one day,” Brian murmured, “that I’m not who you think I am.”

Danny watched him so closely that Brian half hoped he could read his mind and see exactly what he meant without him having to say every painful word. “...like, how do you mean that?”

What sort of secrets did Danny think he’d been keeping from him? Brian sighed. “Everyone always thinks that I’m this brilliant perfect guy. Right? Intelligent, educated, no boundaries, no discomforts. It’s obnoxious. Like everybody thinks I’m a fucking robot instead of a man with flesh and blood and too much shit to hide.” He shook his head. “I’m not that smart. C’mon. What kind of genius would deal with the things I do?”

“I don’t understand-”

“The fucking imposter syndrome? Hating what I see every time I look in a mirror? Knowing that it’s only a matter of time before things fall apart? If I was actually smart, I could hold it all back and-”

“Okay, stop there. Stop.” Danny grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them. “First of all, let’s just wipe that shit out of your brain right now, okay? That you need to hide it. Why would you need to do that?”

Spoken like a man who’d never felt the shadow of his failings hanging over him like an anvil. “It’s a lot, Danny. I can’t put everything I think and feel on you. You’d be exhausted. I’d be bleeding you from emotional labor every single fucking day, until you left me...” His throat tightened, and he tried to swallow it down. No. Not right now. He was better than crying like a child every thirty seconds. “I’m not going to make you put up with all of my shit.”

“Even if I want to?”

“Especially if you want to.” He forced himself to hold his gaze. “That’s how relationships go down the tubes. Someone has a Messiah complex, and someone leans on that person too hard and expects them to fix them.”

He knew that Danny couldn’t disagree. They’d seen it happen way too many times in the years they’d been friends – men expecting their girlfriends to be the only person to listen to their fears and pain, girls demanding their boyfriend’s utmost attention every second of every day rather than letting them go out with friends where they couldn’t watch them. The constant societal pressure of having a ‘one and only’ and how unhealthy it was. It would’ve been far too easy for Brian to slip into that mindset. Danny was soft and sweet and spongey, and he would’ve soaked up every bit of Brian’s pain without even questioning it, until it overwhelmed him. Brian would’ve taken and taken and taken, and Danny would’ve crumbled into dust.

He’d never do that to him. Ever.

For a long moment, they were both silent, no rebuttals, no plans, no magic methods to fix everything. But then Danny crawled forward, right into his lap, and wrapped his arms around his neck. He pressed their foreheads together. Brian expected him to kiss him – maybe to lull him away from the darkness in his mind with his body, like Brian always leaned on – but Danny just...stayed there. Held him. Touched him. Shared his breath with him. And, as the seconds ticked by, Brian’s heart pounded.

“I’m not gonna try to fix you, dude,” Danny whispered. He brushed a kiss over the tip of his nose, such a tender gesture that Brian’s eyes watered. “That’s not my job. I know it’s not. You think I’ve never felt like you have?”

Brian closed his eyes and held his breath. He wouldn’t break, he wouldn’t.

“I’ve been there. I’ve hated myself. I’ve thought I threw my life away. I...” He stayed quiet, but Brian saw an image in his mind anyway – the wall he’d stared at, sitting on his floor, listening to the silence after he’d told Danny he’d be leaving for the United Kingdom. How that must’ve felt...how he must’ve believed that everything he’d ever worked for had fallen to pieces. Maybe even wished he’d never sent the email introducing himself to Brian in the first place.

I’m so sorry, he thought, tucking his arms around Danny’s trim waist and holding him even closer.

“I didn’t wanna be a burden on anybody either. My friends. My girlfriends. My family. It felt like if I told even one person what I was going through, everything would shut down, but...I did end up telling somebody. Just one. You know who?”

Brian shook his head.

“I had a fucking amazing therapist.”

Something sharp and venomous spread through Brian’s mouth. He couldn’t imagine doing that – sitting in front of a stranger once or twice a month, saying every intimate secret he’d ever kept locked down tight. How selfish that seemed. How infuriating a job that had to be, listening to people be weak every single day for hours and hours on end.

He opened his mouth to say something biting, but the words wouldn’t come.

Danny kissed his forehead next, like he didn’t even care how wrinkled it was, and continued to murmur the words against his skin. “You’re a fucking master in your field, Bri. You and me both know you are. You’ve studied that shit until you knew it in your sleep – things nobody else would ever discover. And that’s what she had too, my old therapist. She knew things that none of my friends or family or partners would ever be able to say to help me. She walked me through getting on meds. She walked me through my withdrawal too, when I got off them. She was fucking amazing. If I had my way, I’d take you to her right damn now.”

Brian dug his fingers into the back of Danny’s shirt. Mortified, he realized he was trembling again – that the pressure on his eyes was from how he refused to open his lids even slightly, because he couldn’t let those tears fall.

“We could find you somebody. I wouldn’t let you settle, okay? I’d help you go down a list until you found somebody you felt right with. Someone that didn’t make you feel like you were stupid or weak. Someone who’d help you build your own coping strategies. Who’d help you stop your lies.”

He shook his head out of instinct, but Danny’s words shone light into his chest.

“You know they’re lies, right? You know I love you. That everybody loves you. And all we want is for you to see the handsome, brilliant, talented, incredible man we all see every day.”

He couldn’t believe that. He knew that he was a fantastic liar, and he’d been pulling the wool over people’s eyes for years, but...but he wanted to believe it. He wanted to think that the people he loved more than life itself loved him in the exact same way. Could it really be that simple? Why was it so fucking hard to knock the cobwebs out of his brain and think that, just once, he could be loveable?

Danny clung to him. He hugged him until Brian could barely breathe – and then he realized it was from the sobs he was holding back. That Danny could read him – could feel it, and knew exactly what he needed to let go. “Will you just try it? For me? Try getting some help? I-I can’t watch you hate yourself like this. I love you, Brian.”

That was it. It was too much. He buried his face in Danny’s bony shoulder and let out the tears, soaking straight through his shirt. He couldn’t keep doing this on his own. He’d hated himself these past few weeks – far more than he ever had before. Just indulging the thoughts was enough to suffocate him.

He wanted to see the man that Danny saw every time he looked at him. The man that he kissed, hugged, and made love to. The man that made his eyes look like stars when he stared down at him in those moments right before he pressed inside of him. Was Brian so brilliantly deceptive that he’d made Danny look at him like that? Or was there in fact some good inside of him that he had lost sight of years before?

“I-I don’t even know when it started.” The words were slurred, and it was all well and good – he didn’t know if he wanted Danny to hear them in the first place. “It wasn’t always like this, i-it wasn’t always so...”

“It won’t be.” Tears were on Danny’s voice again, and Brian hated himself for making the man he adored cry, but fuck, he loved Danny twice as much for crying for him so easily. “It’s not gonna be like this forever, I promise. We’re gonna get you help. And I’m gonna be right there with you. I’ll go with you. I’ll hold your hand the whole fucking time. It’s gonna be okay, babe, I promise.”

As Danny rocked him slowly, something about the motion seemed to stir the fog in Brian’s body. The darkness that had held over him for so long began to move, until a faint light shone through it and barely illuminated his heart. It wasn’t vibrant. Not enough to burn. Barely even enough to be seen at all. But it was there. For once, the black was shifting to gray.

It was the promise of hope and change in the air. And, as Brian cried out every tear in his body, he clung to it and welcomed it closer, inviting it in.

 ~~

 “I think that’s them!”

“You think the giant truck pulling up to your house is anything but the moving company?” Brian drawled, and Danny laughed, swatting his shoulder.

They’d done it, then. It had been hard as hell, and they’d been up past midnight the night before sealing the rest of Brian’s belongings in boxes, but it was finished. Never once had Brian seen Danny with so much patience. Every time that Brian began to feel even slightly overwhelmed – staring around them at everything left to pack, feeling the breath catch in his chest – Danny had brightly asked for him to go grab him a drink, or buy him a snack at the gas station, or carry a handful of boxes closer to the door. Gentle distractions. Things that gave Brian a task that was far easier rather than calling him out on how uncomfortable he was and making him feel like an idiot.

Brian hated being wrong, but he had to admit that Danny understood him far better than he thought possible – and that he was the only man who really seemed to know how to help.

He watched him as he bounded toward the front door like a puppy and jogged outside to greet the same movers they’d spoken to barely twenty minutes beforehand, and he smirked. “I love you, you idiot,” he whispered, just for the pleasure of saying it – of the fact that it still didn’t feel real, that he was here, doing this, moving in with Danny. Combining their lives…

They had such an adventure ahead of them.

“Just bring it in anywhere!” Danny said as he wandered back inside and gestured with drama better suiting an actor than a gangly guy with a shrub on his head. “Just, y’know, here, there...”

“I think they’ve got the idea.” Brian held a hand out to him, and Danny stuck his tongue out, as if he wasn’t already walking toward him to grab it. “Let’s get out of their way.”

“I’m never in the way,” Danny said with incredible confidence even as he let Brian coax him toward the kitchen. “You just want a snack.”

“Maybe.”

As Brian began rooting through Danny’s cabinets just because he could now – because the food in there was all his as much as it was his lover’s – Danny snuck behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “So.” Danny kissed the back of his neck. “You’re ready for the appointment tomorrow? Got all your insurance info and stuff?”

Brian paused. He leaned against the counter with a sigh. When he felt the encroaching desperation to call the whole thing off, he took a deep breath and willed it away – just far enough that he could focus on the warmth of Danny’s body. A fitting distraction. “I have everything – and I’m as ready as I’m going to be.” He cleared his throat. “You, uh, still going with me?”

“Duh!” Danny laughed. “I’m with you to the ends of the earth, babe, you kidding me?”

No one deserved to be this lucky – yet here he was. Here Brian stood in the house of the man he loved, the house that now nearly belonged equally to him. Here he could live in utter domesticity with him, and dream of a future that might involve matching wedding bands on their hands, and even think a little bit about the sounds of tiny feet slapping the kitchen tile as they ran. Was that so terrible to wish for? To imagine? To hope would come to pass?

Nothing was fixed. Barely anything had changed. But, for once, Brian had the vision of a time where it could.

“You mean it?” he murmured.

Danny gently turned Brian to face him and cupped his face, leaning in for a deep kiss. He sucked the concern right out of Brian and replaced it with promises and intent and love, so much of it that he felt it in his curling toes. “You’re mine. I’m yours.” Danny grinned at him, and for the first time Brian caught sight of the deepening wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. A bright, smoldering attraction burst in his chest, spreading through him. “Nothing’s gonna ever make me let you go. I mean it.”

Brian cupped his face in both hands, brimming with hope. “I love you so fucking much.”

“And I love you.” One more kiss before Danny held him close. “I always will.”

[johannesviii]

Anachrophobia

Some highlights of the last EDA I’ve read (Anachrophobia).

I took these screens while reading, along with my reactions. As usual, this is full of spoilers. And screaming.

I’m glad this book is over.

Some of you might already know that if you want to really f█cking scare me, you have to go as abstract as possible. This is why I’m such a big fan of Cube, and even Cube², its terrible sequel with terrible, terrible CGI, which gets even more abstract and surreal than the first one. What happened? How did the characters end up there? How does it work? Are they even on Earth? We don’t really know. We do know, however, that if they don’t get out of the Cube as soon as possible, they’re all going to die.

Similarly: what really happened in Anachrophobia? Were Eight, Fitz and Anji really on another planet? Was it even real? Who are the clock people possessing everyone? We don’t really know. I do know, however, that at some point, I was so scared to read the last 50 pages of this thing that it took me two weeks to pick it up again.

Does it really deserve such a high note? I don’t know. I might come back later and change it. I’m not sure. I’m too busy being scared shitless. 9,5/10

WE’RE OFF TO A GOOD START, I SEE.

Well, this is an EDA, dude.

Oh, they are fighting a literal “Time War”! This has potential.

This shouldn’t be so cool.

Meanwhile, poor Fitz isn’t very good at playing chess and I’m laughing.

Excuse me I love that room

That’s the weirdest time travel explanation I’ve ever seen and there’s quite a lot of them in this series.

Try to keep up, Anji.

Hoping it's better than a certain other Narnia-like episode seriously am I the only one who hates The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe

Try to keep up too, Fitz.

Eight no

That kind of reminds me of Longest Day.

Eight oh my god

OKAY WHAT’S GOING ON IN THIS F█CKING WORLD

DOCTOR THIS IS A BAD IDEA

EVERY TIME YOU TRIED TO PRETEND YOU WERE AN EXPERT SOMEONE WAS WAITING FOR, IT ENDED BADLY. ESPECIALLY IN DARK PROGENY.

“And the man yelping in pain is Fitz”

Holy shit

This is an excellent idea!

Okay so this world is, like, capitalism on steroids

IT’S BEEN GOING ON FOR 400 YEARS EXCUSE ME

ANJI SDSDFGHJKIH YOU COULD HAVE WARNED HIM

Well at least Anji is keeping up

How much do you wanna bet that the opposite side is doing the same shit?

Okay now I’m starting to panic too

This is peak Eight right there

SAVE THEM

Why is this so f█cking stressful

THIS IS SCARY, STOP

Roll credits!

So Anachrophobia isn’t a phobia per se, more like a neurological trauma?

MhhhhhMMMMMMH NOPE

“I have some rather unsettling ideas”

You mean more unsettling than what is currently happening?

WHO. AM. IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Okay this is even worse

Eight please try to focus

Why is this book so scary

BAD IDEA

None of this is okay and this book needs to stop, which really concerns me because there’s more than 170 pages left.

Are.... are you hoping to spy on him too

So even after losing a heart, he doesn't need to sleep more. Interesting.

Holy f█cking shit

On the other hand, this is cute.

Ok ok honestly, fuck abstract horror, give me some gory bullshit over this any day, I’m going to have nightmares about this, I swear.

Also friendly reminder that this world is terrifying.

“Or out” oh no

Bad idea Doctor

BAD IDEA FITZ

Oh wow, that happened way sooner than I expected.

Fitz being an anxious little shit as usual, but really, who can blame him in that situation?

THIS IS ONLY PAGE 77, HOW CAN IT GET ANY WORSE

FFFffffffFFFFffFffffFFfF

GET THEM OUT OF HERE

Go Anji!

Can't they breathe for two seconds

Hey, some typical Eight echolalia, it’s been a while!

You idiots I love you

Hello Mr Mistletoe. You have a very silly name.

sdfghgfdsdfghj Eight no

The only weird thing about him so far is his name.

Oh no, what a pity, uh?

This is getting rather complicated.

NOPE nope no nu-uh no

N O P E

More echolalia!

I laughed

I’m so sorry for Anji though

ALL ABOARD THE NOPE TRAIN TO NOPEVILLE

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOPE

Eight speaks fluent sarcasm but can't recognise it when other people use it and that’s extremely relatable

“Clocky” asdfgfdsdfg

Okay

Can I breathe now

Apparently not

Please don’t come any closer to that thing, this is very bad for my nerves

Okay.... now this is weird.

GOOD

Well this is abstractly horrible, thank you very much for that.

Poor Fitz isn’t going to get a nice rest in this adventure either

Well, you gotta stay positive, right.

Also you gotta learn to enjoy the small victories, right.

“I’ve been wrong before”

You don’t say

WELL, YOU SPOKE TOO SOON

Nice.

This is also nice.

On the other hand, this sounds extremely ominous. Is the war not really a war, but something else entirely?

Is... is it because that’s good for business?

That’s it, isn’t it?

How... how do you beat something that can rewind time? I’m sure there’s a way, but at the moment I’m too busy being scared to think of any clever solution.

I... I need a pause.

Usually, “base under siege” stories do nothing for me, but that one has a terrifying abstract menace, and that changes everything.

I’m back from my pause!

And we’re straight back into the scary!

I swear, this liveblog’s notes are 60% “nope” and I’m struggling to find new ways to express how hard I’m nope-ing

What ARE those things?

More importantly: do I even want to know?

Too soon.

Okay, now this is interesting. Because Fitz’s most traumatizing “life milestone” happened to the original Fitz, not our current Fitz. Would he be able to change the events from Interference? I’m not sure.

If he couldn’t change them or anything that happened before the “birth” of his current self, what else would he change? I’m curious.

I F█CKING KNEW IT. THEY MAKE THE WAR LAST FOREVER FOR PROFIT.

Have I mentioned recently that I love Anji

Because I love Anji

Also excuse me but why and how is Mistletoe still alive?

Why are you coughing?

Is it the heart loss? Is it something new? Am I being paranoid?

Awwww

Oh my god so that’s what he would change.

I have no words.

That is an interesting possibility, honestly.

How... how desesperate must Eight be if he’s seriously starting to consider gasing the whole station?

Ooooooh. Okay. That’s how you get rid of something that rewinds time!

This is very clever!

This is also horrible!

Thanks!

“Can I just shoot him now?” “No.”

Wait.

WAIT.

WAIT WAIT WAIT.

ARE YOU SABBATH

THAT WOULD MAKE SO MUCH SENSE

At this point I’m so scared I kinda want to cry

This book is like a collection of all the scariest things possible for me

I’d say “I can’t wait for this character to die” but if he’s Sabbath that’s gonna be a bit more difficult.

“I think things are going to get nasty”

IMPLYING THEY AREN'T ALREADY?

He’s way too happy about this very disturbing situation.

F█CcCkK

Please make it stop

Okay!

All right! Okay! Good!

But there’s 60 pages left!

That’s somehow more terrifying than everything so far!

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine

Have I ever told you that I really like the “Hurt & Comfort” trope

You cute idiots.

FffFffygtfghgfcyuCk

I need a break from this book.

Two entire weeks later, I’m picking this book up again.

And a weird roadtrip has started. And this is pretty funny.

No, we’re not. Ask again in three hours, Fitz.

Oh. I was way off.

As if they didn't have enough problems already.

In case you’re wondering, yes, I’m screening all the scenes where Eight goes into echolalia mode because it’s relatable.

This NOPE juice is delicious.

Poor guy, though.

No they’re not, are they?

Make it stop, I kinda feel sick

“More than anything, she wanted not to feel terrified”

F█CKIN’ SAME

They... they’re all already clock people, right?

I’m scared and I’m crying a little bit

I didn’t think the author would go that far

Clearly I was wrong

THAT’S

THAT’S AN EXTREMELY SPECIFIC FEATURE OF A LOT OF MY NIGHTMARES

A PLACE WHICH LOOKS LIKE IT SHOULD BE OUTSIDE, BUT WHICH IS ENTIRELY INDOORS BECAUSE IT’S IN A GIGANTIC CHAMBER OF SORTS

THIS IS EXTREMELY SPECIFIC

WHO ARE YOU AND WHO GAVE YOU FREE ACCESS TO ROUGHLY 17 YEARS OF MY PERSONAL NIGHTMARES

Ah, yes, great, please add more nightmares to the nightmares

That was predictable, actually.

This is Time Works all over again.

Please tell me the plutocratic empire doesn't even exist anymore.

I knew it.

Also that basically makes these things Capitalismisators 2000.

Oh. So they just wanted to get clear instructions.

AHSDFGHJKJHGFDERTYUHGB

Okay. Okay. He can control it. Good.

This book really needs to stop giving me fresh ideas for nightmares.

He won’t change anything anyway.

Wait. Will he?

Good.

Honestly, I'm pretty sure he'd unmake the entire Earth arc if he could.

“He’s having some sort of nightmare”

AREN’T WE ALL

How can they solve this in 13 pages??

WAIT

WAIT I HAVE AN IDEA

WHAT IF HE UNMAKES A THING WHICH HAS NO IMPACT ON ANYTHING THAT HAPPENED SO FAR, BUT HAS AN IMPACT ON THEIR FUTURE

What............. what is he doing

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE F█CK

BUT

But that’s a paradox, surely?

It worked??

Wait, is that why he suddenly felt really ill right after the mustard gas plan succeeded? Because that’s the point where he went back to kill himself?

So it didn’t change anything, did it?

I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.

Wait, who are his associates?

THAT'S HOW IT F█CKING ENDS

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

If you wanted me to read the next book straight away, good job, though.