#the current plan is to wait until my mom's dead (which is still a ways off) and then get going

[actual-corpse]

Who knew that the stress of a part-time job on top of being a full-time student who either lived with hateful neonazis or was just straight up roughing it would stifle my ability to think about Me?

*I ran out of tag space, y'all.

#trans

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

Three times

Warnings: smut (cause I’ve got daddy issues)

Note: this is consensual, don’t worry!

She was waiting for family to return to their big house. She had found herself being the house sitter while her mom, dad, and brothers go out to eat. It was a new house as well, and she knew that this place was haunted before even finding out it could potentially be

A nice house like this suddenly on the market? That seemed way too good to be true. She was happy though that she was only helping her family move into the place, and could leave soon. She didn’t have a good relationship with her parents, but what lured her into helping was how it gave off a feeling to her that she couldn’t describe

She’s been wanting to go into the attic since she’s arrived as well. She hadn’t had a clue what could be drawing her attention like this, but she didn’t want to find out. She thought it would be a safer option to stay away from the attic

Adam and Barbara didn’t want to scare her off already, because she seemed much more chill than her family members. But they also didn’t want to scare the young boys. Barbara didn’t think summoning Beetlejuice was a good idea either for this job

But luckily for the couple, Beetlejuice has other plans. He’s seen what the eldest daughter looked like, and has definitely taken a liking in her. He knew he didn’t have much time to be alone with her in the house either. He was determined to get her up in the attic as well, so he just waits in the model for her to come in

It was getting later in the afternoon, and her family still hadn’t returned yet. At this point out of pure boredom and curiosity, she finally goes upstairs. Once she reaches the attic door, she takes out the key that opens any door in the house that was meant to be given to her father

But she couldn’t see herself letting the keys go. She easily unlocked the attic door, because Adam and Barbra were currently talking to Juno. Beetlejuice had noticed she was inside of the attic now, and smirks

“Hey, over here!” He calls her over, which makes her look directly at him. She crouches down to be at his level, which makes him feel a certain way. Whatever strong connection she felt was definitely present, and now she’s realizing it’s him who she was having a strong connection to

“My, you’re a handsome little fella” she says confidently, which makes him smirk. “I can grow bigger if you’d want me too. You just gotta say my name three times” he flirts, which makes her blush

“I’ve never had sex with a dead person before” she admits, which makes him smirk. “Well there’s a first time for everything, right?” She nods her head, and then asked what his name was. Soon a sign shows up pointing towards his head with his name on it three times

“Beetlejuice” she starts, which makes him continue to smirk. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice” he had vanished from the model of the town. She looks confused, until she heard a record playing in the background. She follows where the music lead her to, and found herself in the guest bedroom she’s currently staying in

When she enters, the bed had dead rose petals around it. A sexual song played on the record, and the lights were off. But Beetlejuice wasn’t in the room. Confused by the random disappearance, she was about to leave until the door slams shut on her

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve fucked someone who’s living” he says out of nowhere, which makes her look at him. He was lying naked on the guest bed, which took her by surprise. “And fallen for someone who’s alive as well” she walks over towards her bed, with every intent of letting him claim her

Her clothes come off of her now, and she now laid underneath him. He kisses her on her lips, which makes her return the kiss. His hand goes down to her pussy, and he felt how wet she was for him. He pulls apart now, and grins. “You’re all wet for a dead guy. How exotic” he says as he places his hand back onto the comforter

Without any more waiting, he goes into her. Her hands intertwined with his as her head arches back. A moan left her now as he begins to thrust at an abnormal speed. The bed was squeaking as his lips attack her neck with hickeys

“Bee” she moans out, which makes him amused by the nickname given to him. He moans loudly, which made her happy that she was the only one in the house. She came all over him, without any warning. He stops, and pulls out of her

She was tired already, but he had just gotten started. He lowers himself to be facing her pussy now, and begins to lick her. Her legs comfortably wrapped around him as his tongue begins to vibrate against her

She was shocked by the action, but then remembered she was being fucked by a ghost. He continues to lick her with his tongue vibrating, which drove her to her second orgasm. Satisfied with her coming a second time, he stops

She now didn’t care that she was sleepy, and needed more pleasure now. He comes back to laying on top of her, and makes her look at him now. “I’m gonna fuck you harder this time, okay?” She simply nods her head, and soon he was back in her

His thrusting the same pace, but his cock was vibrating this time. She came already with moaning the nickname she had given him, which makes him also let himself come this time. She had to wait a while before he came in her. He gets out of her, and laid down next to her

Unaware how much time had passed, her thoughts were on her family. His thoughts were on how wonderful that experience was, and wished she could stay longer. But then a brilliant idea came to his head if he wanted to leave the afterlife

Clothes appeared on him, and now he’s standing. Her attention was definitely on him now. She sits up to see where this was going. “I need to tell you something very important” he started, which makes them slightly nervous about where this was going

“I-“ the phone goes off in the background, which throws her off guard. Clothes reappeared onto her as she stands up. “Just one second” she goes downstairs, with him following along. When she got to the phone, she picks it up from its holder and places it close to her ear

She wasn’t expecting a phone call, or a phone call to inform her that her family was dead. She went as pale as he was, and felt like fainting. The cause of death was unknown, but now this place had no owner again. She placed the phone back to end the call. “What were you gonna say, Bee?” She asked as tears came rolling down her cheeks

“Well it depends, what just happened?” She explained to him what had happened. A twinge of guilt sneaks into him, but he needed to leave the afterlife somehow. “I need to get married to leave the afterlife” he said casually after what she told him. She thought that was an excellent way to get her mind off of the horrid news

She smiles as tears continue to leave her eyes. He seemed shocked by her reaction, but smiles as well. “Let’s get married then” she says as she now wipes her tears away. Before anything actually happened, Adam and Barbra stood there in shock. She looks at the couple, and so does Beetlejuice

“Oh hello! You two must be the couple that died here originally” she says, which makes the couple more shocked. “Jeez, you guys act like news doesn’t eventually spread. Especially with something so tragic” then she was reminded about her family members that she lost

She was all alone. She also barely knew Beetlejuice to be considering him apart of this. This marriage thing was clearly just a way to make the two happy in two drastic different ways. Perhaps this is why the strong connection still exists between the two

But even Adam and Barbra feel differently now with the two standing next to each other. “There’s some weird connection here with us” Barbara says, instead of bringing up the marriage that’s gonna happen. She finds herself blush at that, but didn’t even understand this feeling either

This is what made her scared to go to the attic originally, because she knew about the couple being in the house, but no other entity. She thought it was gonna be some awful demon, just waiting in their to take her soul

Her thoughts also keep lingering onto her dead family members. ‘What had happened?’ She wondered. “Oh, that’s just coming from us” Beetlejuice casually says, but she was too focused on this strange mystery of her family. “Ghosts can do that? Even if you haven’t met the person yet?” Adam asks Beetlejuice

“I guess so. Not sure, since you know me pal: I don’t play by the rules of the afterlife. I mean what’s the point? I’m dead for fuck sakes! I shouldn’t have to worry about doing more work in the afterlife as well” Beetlejuice says as his attention goes onto his soon to be wife

He saw the color drain out of her; the likeness of her passing out. Beetlejuice gets her seated onto the couch, which took Adam and Barbra by surprise that he was capable of doing such a nice deed. Sure it was a small thing, but it was a big deal

She started to cry into his shoulder was the two were stated. Adam and Barbara were confused, and worried for her. Beetlejuice looks at the couple, and told the two to fuck off. The couple listens, since the two didn’t want to intrude on anything personal

Beetlejuice seemed to be all the sudden great at comforting people, and was quite surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. “You’ll probably see them again. And they’ll definitely look for you, because not all of us are locked up in one location” she sniffles, and then raises her head to make eye contact with him

She smiles again, and thanked him. The clock struck midnight, and the two had gotten married. After the first kiss, she goes in for seconds. He’s alive, which makes her pull apart. She admires him, and adores his dark blue eyes

“You’re gorgeous Bee” she admits as she continues to admire him. “Thank you” he says as he smiles. A year had passed, and she hadn’t seen him since still being in the house and after her family’s funeral. The two parted ways because he wanted to figure out the world himself

She thought about him everyday, and kept the wedding ring on her finger. She wondered if he kept his on as well, but she had doubts that he would keep his ring on. A new neighbor had just moved in next door. She planned on saying hello to the new neighbor to be on good terms day one

She currently sat on her couch, and was watching something random on the television. A knock on her door makes her get up from her couch. She opens the door to see Beetlejuice. Shocked, she just stood there until one of them said something

He was also stunned to see her face again. He took notice that she still wore her wedding ring. She checked to see if he kept his on, and noticed it was still on. Tears left her eyes as he instinctively kissed her on the lips. She returned the kiss, and soon the door was shut and she was pinned to the wall

Beetlejuice had missed her, and couldn’t stop thinking about her since they parted ways. Even with all the women hitting on him, his heart happily belonged to her

Tags: @stardancerluv

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x22 There's No Place Like Home (Part 2)

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 493

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.

Note #2: Thanks to @jrob64 and @snowbellewells for the prompt!

She was in shock.  There was no other way to explain her current state of calm after what had just happened, after what she’d just witnessed. 

After escaping the Evil Queen’s cell, with her innocent prisoner in tow, Hook had filled her in on what she’d missed.  Snow White had sent them a way to get into the castle, but she hadn’t met back up with them, and they were concerned she’d been captured.

When they’d reached the large, circular window overlooking the courtyard, they discovered that their concerns were more than founded.

Emma would never forget the horror of looking down to see her mom tied to a stake, surrounded by wood and with the Evil Queen preparing to hurl a fireball in her direction.  She’d been desperate to move, to act, to do something to stop what was about to happen, but without her magic, she was completely powerless.

As the Evil Queen let the fireball fly, and as her mother’s writhing form was consumed, Hook pulled her to himself, and she clung to him.  Needing him, needing his comfort more than she ever had before.

They’d watched in horrified fascination as the fire quickly did its job, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.  She couldn’t look away.  As horrific as it was, she couldn’t look away.

Finally, as the guards and the Queen turned back toward the castle, Hook had reminded them that they would accomplish nothing by being captured themselves, and they’d stealthily left the castle, returning to the fire her dad and Killian had built while they waited.

“After my brother passed,” Killian said almost hesitantly once the two of them were again alone, “all I could do was relive that final, terrible moment. Don’t do that to yourself, love.  All we can do at times like these is to try to live in the here and now.”

She appreciated his attempts to help her through this, but it would take some time before she could close her eyes without seeing her mother murdered before her eyes and her completely powerless to stop it.

They had failed, and failed so profoundly, nothing could ever be right again.  Her mom was dead, and with her gone, Regina would never be defeated, the kingdom would never be saved, her dad would never have true love, her baby brother, who’d just been born, would never exist.

Would never exist.

Suddenly a ray of hope pierced her darkness.

“Here and now,” she said, brow furrowed.  “I’m still here.  How is that possible?  We saw her die, which means I would never be born.”

Killian’s eyes widened as the implications of her words hit him. “You should have faded from existence.”

“Exactly,” she said.

“Well then, perhaps–” he began slowly.

“She’s still alive!” Emma said, knowing that somehow, some way, against all odds it had to be true.  She hadn’t lost her mother after all, not yet anyway.  There was still hope!

NEXT CHAPTER->

[differentalpacafestival]

Life Fucking Sucks

Today's breakdown. I'm not sure if it's a meltdown as I still don't understand what a meltdown entails, but I cried. A lot.

It started yesterday when I got up. I'm not studying, and I'm unemployed due to my disabilities, one of which being autism.

So I didn't get up until noon, coinsidentally after my mom went to take a nap. She didn't get up until 4pm (which is a normal lenght nap for her, being almost 60 and disabled), and said her niece was talking about calling. She said it wasn't a guarantee, and she had to eat and properly wake up before doing anything anyway. I asked her if she wanted to go to an all-purpose store, I think it could compare to Target just smaller; Rusta. Then my cousin called, and they didn't hang up until around 7pm, about two hours before closing. Now, we live about half hour away from the closest store, and we like to just stroll and look at everything when in a store like Rusta since they have so many different things. So we decided that we would wait until today.

Que today. About an (two now, I'm just proof-reading) hour ago, actually. Me being my empathetic, autistic self, I've cared for a house fly that got stuck in glue these last two days, and today, she was gone. I don't know if she's dead, but she liked to roam around and hide, and after looking where I left her yesterday, she wasn't there. So this made me a little upset because she had so much personality, and due to the glue, she couldn't fly anymore. Her wings got folded and I couldn't fix them, which is why I cared for her in the first place. Anyhow, when I went to the bathroom, I saw my first pet fly whom I thought to be dead for like two weeks now, so I felt a little better seeing her still alive. You see, she, too, has an injury where her right wing looks to be broken at the joint - it sticks out instead of along her body. This makes her easily recognizable, plus she is also very affectionate (I don't know, nor care if this is even possible, but she was stuck to my hand for an entire day, even when I moved and ate.)

Then my mom asked if I could try to get ready to go by 4pm; half an hour. 3:45 we were ready, so my mom called to my brother (who also isn't studying and currently unemployed) that we were leaving. This POS decided he wanted to tag along. He is the typical stereotype of a gamer; Headset hair, up all night playing online, yelling into the microphone, and rarely gets out of his room. As if this wasn't enough, the two of them went to the store two days ago, so I had absolutely no reason to expect him joining. This wouldn't necessarily be an issue if we didn't have an insanely small car for a 6"3 dude and two overweight people - Hyundai i20 2012. I also need music at least one way (to or from,) to which my brother detests with his whole being as he is overstimulated by music. Now, you might think to yourself "Why don't you just wear a headset or earplugs?" - Because they overstimulate me. The only way for all of us to be comfortable, is if me and my brother isn't in the car at the same time. So when he said he was also coming, I broke. Well, actually, first I panicked, frantically looked for earplugs to no avail, then I broke. I went back out to grab my things from the car and told them I couldn't handle the entire drive without music so I was staying home. My mom followed me back inside and asked if I couldn't just use her earplugs - ew - and I explained to her that I just can't bring myself to. It's so hard to try to explain sensory overload and the need for a plan, even if I can't control everything, to someone who doesn't work the same way. The problem, I told her, is that I was prepared for just the two of us; I wanted it to be just the two of us. We have a very sarcastic relationship, calling each other bitch and whatnot, so when I back out all of a sudden - especially when the whole reason any of us were going in the first place, was because I wanted to - while crying, and being honest, she knows it's serious. So she suggested that we leave tomorrow instead, just the two of us, because she is expecting a package that needs to be picked up. With that, they left, and I sat here crying non stop for an hour before I figured it might help to write it down. Now every time I look at the clock in the living room, I cry knowing I couldv'e been at Rusta, or singing with my mom in the car to Queen.

I want to blame this on my brother since he knows I need music and still decided to join; but I know he also has autism, even though he's not diagnosed (I am, and our primary doctor suggested he might benefit from seeing a specialist too, but bro is too worried people will then treat him the way he has treated other autistics, so he refuses) and therefore also has his sensory needs. I have no idea, still, why he acted to impulsively.

I've stopped crying and calmed down, but I'm still not okay. This completely ruined my day, and I suspect the shit from earlier this year is also catching up and attacked when I was at my weakest.

My aunt died in May from years of treatment and chemo for cancer, was given her terminal date and beat that by another month or so

My dad's cousin's husband (whom I truly look at as my uncle) also got diagnosed recently with cancer and doctors say he'll be lucky to make it to the end of the year. He was in horrible shape for three months before a doctor took him seriously (he also hid his pain extremely well) and then discovered a cancer in his lymph nodes that had severely progressed and could no longer be safely operated on.

My best friend's house was put to foreclosure as both her parents fucking suck at financials, and her dad is literally over 5 million in debt and proceeded to fucking burn the letter sent to his wife warning about this (since she also pays for the house,) causing both of them to get sued for not paying, so my best friend had to loan a million to buy her own house back and is now the sole owner. Her sketchy ass boyfriend also proposed and they're engaged.

My cousin's son was visiting in Spain and got attacked by some scam artists when he refused to bite into their scheme. He has been in and out of the hospital since he got back home in April. Police in Spain, as far as I understood from my mother's rambling, did nothing about the scammers.

My other cousin was wanted for months for multiple crimes including growing weed, car theft, running from police and a possible accomplice to murder, and then fucking decided to move to Spain (thus causing his nephew to get attacked), and posponed selling his house to the tenants living there, talking to at least one other potential buyer who got his contact from his friends; our mutual cousin, and FINALLY deciding to sell to the tenants who had gotten a huge, risky loan just for that. I think that actually started last year, and he, just a month ago, agreed.

On top of all this, my own mental health has been really up and down all year with all this Israel-Gaza shit, and I still grieve from two losses in 2022. I think this was a long time coming, I just needed something to push me over the edge.

Thanks for coming to my TedTalks. Questions are always welcome, and I will see you all in the next episode o7

[shuuenmei]

(inhales) Alright.

I’m currently on the third semester for my first Persona 5 Royal run and with much ideas for “tabula rasa”, I also got a crossover AU idea for black or white which I shall dub as “murder siblings au” where Goro is adopted into Yuu (Rei)’s family.

(Placed right under the cut for story spoilers for P5R and some future plans for black or white. Also this is going to be long.)

Pre- P5R timeline:

In this AU, Goro is adopted into Yuu (Rei)’s family all the way out at Hokkaido at age 10, 2 years after his mom passed away.

Yuu (Rei) is a 2004 baby which makes her 6 years younger than Goro.

Goro, who had already gone through a few foster homes already thought the Shiina couldn’t be any different from his previous ones.

It took a few months but Goro eventually warmed up to them because they had been so kind to him, even after he opened up to being an illegitimate kid. And he had changed his surname to Shiina out of respect for his adoptive family at this time.

He especially bonded with Yuu (Rei) the fastest because she actually helps Goro find some closer with his mother by pointing and talking to his biological mother’s ghost.

He didn’t learn about the fact that the Shiina family and its family tree are practically cursed to have supernatural abilities due to being descended from a Kamikakushi returnee (Yuu (Rei)’s grandmother)) until he is old enough to actually question why Yuu (Rei) and some of his adoptive family members are born with it.

At any rate, another family member that Goro is close to is his adoptive granny and he is especially fond of her because she is just so nice and loving.

Unfortunately, granny died when Goro is 14 and Yuu (Rei) is 8.

Goro grieves, but Yuu (Rei) took the worst because grandma’s death is the first reminder for Yuu (Rei) about human mortality.

This time, it’s Goro’s turn to help Yuu (Rei) out and slowly, he helped her find some closure regarding her grandmother’s death.

Things are peaceful and nice. Goro wished that things stay that way.

And then he had awakened to Loki and Robin Hood due to Yaldabaoth, and then Shido found him with all the intentions of manipulating him but Goro saw through it and refused since he already had a family that he gave a damn about now.

Then Shido brought in the big guns and threatened Goro by putting his adoptive family, especially Yuu (Rei), as leverage and hostage for Goro to work for him or the lives of his adoptive family are forfeit.

So Goro is literally forced to work for Shido and had no choice in the matter lest his adoptive family gets killed.

Goro moves back to Tokyo under the guise of a Tokyo highschool scholarship (Under Shido’s name) but Yuu (Rei) thought something is a miss right from the start but couldn’t do much yet to act on it.

So a year after Goro moved to Tokyo, she saw him gaining fame as “Detective Prince” and took his old surname of Akechi that Yuu (Rei) went “I knew something is fishy!”

Yuu (Rei) called for her older cousins living in Tokyo and ask if the offer to have her stay with them and study in Tokyo is still up (They made the offer to help Yuu (Rei) out from her situation at school because she is shunned for her ability to see the dead and her cousins really wanted to help her.)

Yuu (Rei) moved to Tokyo, chaperoned by her older cousins with a goal of wanting to find her older adoptive brother for answers.

P5R timeline proper:

Due to transfer problems, Yuu (Rei) was only able to get enrolled to a school in Tokyo around 2016 which I set to be the year P5R took place, so Yuu (Rei) had to wait and endure another school year back in Hokkaido.

However, Goro is so busy with his “Idol” persona crafted by Shido in this AU, on top of his hitman job and metaverse explorations, that Yuu (Rei) never actually found him.

He also never got to see or knew about Yuu (Rei) moving to Tokyo because he tried to keep his contact with his adoptive family as little as possible lest Shido and his goons get ideas to bring them into the fold and endanger their safety even more than usual.

Yuu (Rei) did, however, meet the Phantom Thieves in their real life guises in separate occasions and spoke of her goal of wanting to find her brother. However, neither party connected that Akechi Goro is the “brother” that Yuu (Rei) is looking for and the fact that Yuu (Rei) somehow always missed seeing Goro.

So yes, Yuu (Rei) befriended the ghost parents of the Phantom Thieves and ask them for help instead, which includes Isshiki Wakaba and Yusuke’s mom.

Kobayakawa, after his death, kinda got directed to her because Yuu (Rei) had formed a network of ghost informants via Wakaba and Yusuke’s mom over the months of her stay in Tokyo and Yuu (Rei) learned the truth indirectly of her adoptive brother being under Shido’s employ but they don’t know why yet, especially since Wakaba didn’t tell Yuu (Rei) about Persona’s and Metaverse stuff yet since she feared Yuu (Rei) going reckless in her confrontation with her brother in her need for answers.

Then December 3, Akechi entered the Metaverse in his rush to stop the Phantom Thieves from getting a hit on Shido since he still wanted to be the one to personally put an end to the man and Yuu (Rei), who finally saw her brother for the first time, followed after him and entered Shido’s palace because she was close by when he activated the Metanav.

By the time Yuu (Rei) caught up to Goro... he just got beaten by the thieves and Shido’s cognitive Akechi showed up.

It’s a really bad, bad timing for him to show up and then hold her captive, gloating smugly about why Goro actually works for Shido.

Goro is pissed and also torn because of the fact that his adoptive sister is actually here in Tokyo and is looking for him and it took a lot of restraint for him to stay put lest Shido’s cognitive Akechi actually shoots her.

But instead, the unexpected happened.

Yuu (Rei), fed up with being left out of the loop, feeling helpless and refusing to die here, awakens to a Persona in response.

Yuu (Rei) awakens to Ibaraki-Douji as her first Persona.

None of the thieves are happy at the development. Though she was able to manage to fight back, her young age and smaller physique means that she gets easily hurt and it prompted the thieves to step in and help, Goro included.

Since Yuu (Rei) is younger, she literally passed out and had to be tended in a safe room with Goro and Futaba getting answers to why she is in the Palace in the first place.

Goro actually got time to talk and clarify how he actually got entangled with Shido while waiting for her to wake up.

It was a fucked up situation and conflict with no right or wrong answer in hindsight.

On one hand, Futaba and Haru both still had a right to be mad at Goro for killing their respective parents.

On the other hand, knowing that Goro literally got his hands forced because Shido threatened the well being of the one adoptive family who actually gave a damn about him changed their impressions of the detective prince.

When Yuu (Rei) wakes up, both brother and sister had a long talk, shouting matches and all, mostly out of worry for the other.

But at the end of it all, they come to an understanding and promise to not keep anymore secrets with each other.

That said, Yuu (Rei) is still banned from joining the thieves because she is too young for the Phantom thieves to consider getting a help from and they rather prefer that she stay away from Metaverse business as much as possible.

And then the third semester happened and Yuu (Rei) forces her way in because she can’t stand being left out.

Post P5R and Pre-Twst:

Goro tried to turn himself in to atone for his crimes and to pay back a debt to Akira (Joker’s real name in this AU).

Goro’s initial sentence was 5 years of juvenile prison.

However, this was later changed because Shido’s change of heart completely altered and cause complications to how Goro and Sae are going to prosecute and condemn Shido for his massive crimes because Shido claimed that he killed Akechi Goro, and the one that is brought to the police station is a Akechi Goro’s look alike, a Hokkaido boy named Shiina Goro.

Goro is not pleased because he still had crimes that he wanted to atone, since he values accountability among other things that he valued such as freedom of choice, but if he didn’t agree to this testimony, then Shido won’t stay in jail.

So Goro, Sae and the thieves begrudgingly agree to this narrative so Shido will rot in jail forever.

Even Goro admits that it left a bitter taste in his mouth to not be able to get to be able to atone for his crimes but he at least manage to accomplish getting payback at Shido for his threat and his adoptive family left safe.

Despite things being over, Yuu (Rei) decided that she’d like to stay in Tokyo with her cousins instead of heading back to Hokkaido because things were already bad back home because the area she lived in is still prejudiced against her for being “abnormal” but she actually now had people she care about in Tokyo.

Goro decided to head back to Hokkaido because he needs some time away from Tokyo to heal and he needs to talk with his adoptive parents and baby brothers again.

Not sure about whether or not I want to include Strikers in but things are relatively peaceful for the most part as Goro and Yuu (Rei) adjust to regular lives and getting along better with the Phantom Thieves.

And then comes April 2020.

On the day Yuu (Rei) and Goro went back to Hokkaido to visit their grandma’s grave, the ebony carriage appeared and Goro watches Yuu (Rei) being brought away right in front of his eyes.

Twst timeline Proper:

I admit there hasn’t been a lot of thought for this but Yuu (Rei) is literally brought to Twisted Wonderland and start her journey as the new Wild Card of Twisted Wonderland.

Goro had to strong arm and get the Velvet Room attendants to let him see her once he was told about this information.

However, Goro is on the condition that he is not allowed to interfere in Yuu (Rei)’s wild card journey unless necessary and prompted.

Goro begrudgingly agreed to the condition just so long that he can see his adoptive sister.

They reunited... post Heartslabyul where Yuu (Rei) already awakened as a wild card, forming a team with Riddle as the first Persona user to join her, and then he proceeds to judge the rest of the cast because of the knowledge that Yuu (Rei) got thrown into a magical all-boys school.

Cue Goro menacingly smiling with the hidden message of “Touch my sister and you’re fucking dead.”

Yeah, that’s about it but I honestly started writing and thinking the idea out because I thought it’ll be fun to write Yuu (Rei) and Akechi as adoptive siblings with the dynamic of “Looks like pleasant and polite people but are secretly bloodthirsty and feral in different ways”.

Hence, murder siblings.

Anyway that’s all for now!

[mkizzle79]

Life update TW: Depression/Suicidal Thoughts text/call 988

My mom passed away on Tuesday, 3/15/22 due to complications with diabetes and kidney failure in Arkansas. I found out while streaming which I'm grateful to have. I had just taken my adopted son apartment-hunting in Austin, TX the day before. I couldn't call my mom on Monday but my son and I talked to her Saturday. Mom and I were making plans for when I moved back home in June to help take care of her. I had been living in Texas and since my adopted son was going to college, I was going to move back home.

I kept telling her to hold on. I couldn't waiting to move back home to be with her so I could finally spoil her the way she deserved. Unfortunately, she passed away before I could. I found out while I was streaming, I called my best friend since 8th grade who also happens to live in my current city, and thought of my mom as her mom. She came over and that's when my son found out that his adopted grandma had passed. His response still makes me laugh to this day, "Dead ass? Are you being dead ass right now?"

My brother, sister, and I spent the time cleaning mom's house that she rented from friends of ours. She had no insurance and we inherited nothing but items and pressure memories. I have some of her journals where she writes nothing but praise for God, prayers for others, and how grateful and blessed she was for pain and people in her lives, especially us her children. I still feel tremendous guilt that I wasn't there faster or that I didn't push harder about her health. She deserved so much and if I could trade places with her I would in a heartbeat. I hope that in my next life my mom is my mom.

I have always suffered from depression. I have had terrible things happen to me and abuse from others. I always hid my pain so that my parents wouldn't know what was happening to me at school. I always smile and put on an act. I still do even at my age. I literally feel like life is not worth living but I have learned that I the only reason to live is to live. Life is not something we can take away because it's not just ours. Even if you think no one will miss you, they will.

We didn't even have a funeral for my mom. We still can't. We just can't say goodbye. She is my mom and I don't want to share my pain in a room of people which is why we told people to do good in her name. I know I will see her again but I will wait my time until I do get to see her. My punishment for not being fast enough is to live life without her.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 299: No Chains Left

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “and then AFO broke out all of the inmates from six other prisons and took a nap. well anyways, here’s the hospital angst.” Kacchan woke up two days later and was all, “WAIT BUT HOW ARE DEKU AND TODOROKI AND ALL OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS EXCEPT IIDA DOING” and then we cut to Shouto’s room where the other U.A. kids were sitting around being Mutually Traumatized and giving each other moral support and such. Everyone was alll, “...”, and then the rest of the Todofam showed up, INCLUDING POSSIBLY REI?! which, omg. The chapter ended with Kacchan STOMPING THROUGH THE HALLS all “WHADDYA MEAN DEKU HASN’T WOKEN UP YET”, dragging along Satou and Mineta behind him, fueled by the power of ALL OF THE FUCKS HE NOW GIVES. He gives so many fucks now you guys. This boy cares so much he can probably deduct it on his taxes.

Today on BnHA: SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO GIVE A LOT OF FUCKS, the story cuts abruptly to Hawks, freshly recovering from his near-death experience, and pondering the threads that have weaved the tapestry of his life and led him to this moment. Basically he grew up in poverty with his Jerk Dad and Jerk Mom until his dad got arrested one day and his mom sent him off to go Find Money Or Something, and so he rescued a busload of people and found himself a new career. Back in the present day, Hawks and Jeanist ride around town in Jeanist’s Jamborghini having awkward encounters with civilians in a country on the brink of social collapse, and visiting Hawks’s mother’s home. Hawks is all “I know from an outsider’s perspective it must look like my life currently sucks, but now that the HPSC is gone, my public image is shot, and my parents are finally out of my life, I’m actually feeling SURPRISINGLY GOOD.” Anyway so he’s gonna go meet up with Endeavor now, and p.s. this chapter was fucking fantastic though, damn.

oh my god?? is this Hawks narration?? something about him growing up watching the heroes on TV and thinking of them as fictional characters

okay I scrolled down a little bit more to see the rest of that “Keigo” panel, and wow

this is basically a shed. poor boy definitely grew up rough. let me tell you guys, I came in here ready for some BakuDeku shenanigans; I was not prepared for Hawks Flashback Angst. I AM HERE FOR IT, but also wow I gotta brace myself now lol

HELLO MISTER HAWKS’S JERK DAD, SIR

BnHA sure does have an array of Jerk Dads, doesn’t it. makes me appreciate characters like Masaru and JirouDad all the more for bucking the trend

anyway. so Horikoshi, you really thought that one itty bitty chapter of hospital catharsis would be enough to calm us all before you went right back to showing us child abuse huh. my god man can we rest

BABY HAWKS

swear to god this kid can’t be more than five or six, and yet he has this completely blank look on his face even with his dad looming over him being all threatening and shit. like he’s shut down his emotions to protect himself. imagine what has to happen to a child for him to have learned this at such a young age. fuck

AND MEANWHILE THIS GUY

don’t mingle with humans?? not “other” humans, just humans?? what is this implying here?? and also holy shit Hawks definitely didn’t inherit his looks from his dad orz

then again he doesn’t really bear much of a resemblance to his strung-out mom here either

omg omg omg. and this child is basically trapped here in this environment with these two people. this explains a SHITLOAD about Hawks’s personality though you guys. his ability to completely separate his real thoughts from the face he presents to the outside world. his pragmatic approach to analyzing and solving problems. his layers of emotional walls. turns out almost none of that came from the HPSC training -- that was all learned hands-on in his own personal do-or-die survival nightmare childhood!! oh, boy

and small wonder then that he latched on to Endeavor so strongly if he really is the one who brought down his dad and inadvertently saved him from this. also, just putting this out there, I know people are always talking about him and Dabi being foils, and I think it’s very interesting how Touya grew up in a household where he saw firsthand the dark side of hero society, and so ended up becoming a villain in order to bring it down. whereas young Keigo had almost the exact opposite experience, growing up experiencing the dark side of villain society and becoming a hero in order to bring about a world where no one else has to experience that. just. both of them are so determined not to become their fathers. some interesting parallels there

so Hawks was sort of an accident after his parents had “thanks for helping me not get caught after I killed that guy” sex, and now this little boy is growing up in squalor and being beaten by his father for things like Sitting In The Wrong Out-Of-The-Way Corner Trying Not To Be A Bother To Anybody. holy fuck. this is so rough to read through you guys

wait so does Jerk Dad have a an eyeball manipulation quirk?? because he doesn’t have the wings like his son, but wth are these things??

this presumably also means that Keigo has never been to school or anything either. he basically doesn’t exist. he thinks heroes are fictional characters, he doesn’t realize that they’re real people. these are people who could help him if he could escape and find them, but he doesn’t know, and they don’t know about him

OH MY GOD HE’S JUST SITTING IN HIS CORNER HUGGLING HIS ENDEAVOR PLUSH OH MY GOD

how could this child possibly have an anti-fandom when he’s done NOTHING WRONG HIS ENTIRE LIFE. huh. just explain that to me. lol I mean I’m not looking to pick a fight with anyone, but also, MAYBE I AM, idk?? this kid has gotten me all riled up lmao

anyways, Protect Keigo 2021, and thank you Horikoshi for these three very terrible pages. I am pleased to inform you that you’ve effectively gotten your point across and you may now commence saving this kid already

YAY

oh no, Keigo’s dumbass jerk dad tried to steal a car and the popo nabbed his ass and now his mom can’t just sit around neglecting her VERY YOUNG SON all day long, oh horrors. sorry lady my tiny violin is on backorder. just imagine that I’m playing a very sarcastic song on it for you

anyway so what are you gonna do now, abandon him? I can hardly imagine he’d be worse off, if anything it might be a near-instant improvement

LMAO HE’S ALL “WAIT WHAT ENDEAVOR’S A REAL FUCKING DUDE?!”

AND THEY SAY THAT A HERO CAN SAVE US~~~~ I’M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND WAAAAAIT~~~~~ I’LL HOLD ONTO THE WINGS OF THE EAGLES, WATCH AS WE ALL FLY AWAAAAAAY~~~~

lol what a randomly pivotal moment in his young life. TIME TO GO MAKE THESE MEMES INTO DREAMS YOUNG ONE

anyway so his mom freaked out and grabbed him and they wound up at a train station with her TELLING HIM TO GO GET HER SOME MONEY, oh my god. SURE MOM LEMME JUST WALTZ RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE “JOBS FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS” STORE AND TELL THEM I NEED SOME CASH. ffff manifesting someone to come help him in 3... 2...

...

SIGH, JUST GO RESCUE THE PEOPLE FROM THE BUS, KEIGO. is this the outfit he was wearing when that happened?? it must be, right?? I can’t imagine them surviving more than a couple days out here unless this starts getting REALLY dark in a way I know that even Horikoshi won’t explore, so yeah. cut to the HPSC now please. never thought we’d be glad to see them. I mean sure, it may be an “out of the frying pan...” case, but good god

THANK YOU!!

and I guess it was his mom’s eyeball quirk then. anyway, whatever, see you again never, hopefully. lol oh man. thaaaat, was upsetting. need to center myself here for a sec. NAMASTE

OH YAY THE PRESENT

so we cut from Baby Hawks Angst straight to Present Day Hawks Angst, huh. not that this exhausted and traumatized lil lad isn’t still a baby to me too, I’ll have you know

BEST JEANIST, ALWAYS WITH THE JOKES

“WHEW, THOUGHT YOU DIED ON ME FOR A SEC THERE KID.” lmao. Caleb will no doubt ruin this by making his word choice all stiffly formal as usual, so I’m just going to treasure this “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, I’M FRESH OUT OF FUCKS” version of Jeanist while I can

look at him, driving his Jeanistmobile

again, is it any wonder Kacchan was bitching about Endeavor’s dinky little car when he was used to riding around town in style like this. anyone else staring at this panel trying to figure out how this car is somehow secretly made of jeans

NOOOOO

FUCK YOU DABI LMAO. PUTTING THESE VOICE ACTORS OUT OF A JOB ONE BY ONE

anyway so Jeanist is all “GOOD THING IT’S THE FUTURE AND WE’RE SO GOOD AT MEDICAL SCIENCE” to handwave how Hawks went from one step shy of being a very handsome corpse, to sitting around texting Jeanist in a car all of two days later

OH MY GOD, AND FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS

wait a minute. I’m so confused lmfao. soooo, was Hawks all “anyway, here’s Jeanist’s dead body, you can examine it but please don’t look at him too closely and also I’m gonna need that back unharmed.” how tf did you pull that off lmao

(ETA: also isn’t this technically confirmation of the ol’ Noumu Jeanist theory lol. I’m gonna go ahead and say it is.)

NO BUT PLEASE, CONTINUE. I unironically love reading Horikoshi’s overly convoluted “SEE IT’S NOT A PLOT HOLE” explanations

lkldslfk so wait, you’re telling me Hawks convinced Dabi and the League to put Jeanist’s body in storage, and basically just hoped they wouldn’t use him for any experiments until he could put his plan into action and have the HPSC’s people break in and find and revive him?? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG. A FOOLPROOF PLAN IF I’VE EVER HEARD ONE

fff this man really asked Jeanist to risk it all to prop up his little cover story, and Jeanist was all “sure why not” omfg. anyways, thanks for recapping all of this out loud for no particular reason in your car conversation you two

LMAO NOW WHAT

TROUBLE YOU SAY? GOOD THING THE NEW NUMBER ONE HERO IS ON THE JOB THEN

okay no it’s just some random thugs strolling around terrorizing the downtown. fuck ‘em. so Jeanist is making short work of them now

uh oh

won’t come? not can’t, but won’t?? what???

WOW

well I guess that makes the local heroes A BUNCH OF SHITHEADS now doesn’t it?? jesus

and okay, serious question, if the cops are spread too thin and the heroes have literally walked out on the job, what exactly is stopping everyone from deciding to use their quirks to defend themselves, legal or not? nothing, as far as I can tell. society just got a hell of a lot more chaotic

anyway so this is an interesting panel here

man, Dabi really did pull it off, didn’t he. well anyway so here’s that better world all of the villains were wanting, you guys! isn’t it so great?? everyone’s terrified and angry and losing hope and society is inches away from collapsing into total anarchy! but hey, at least we exposed the number one hero as a hypocrite

anyway so what are these guys up to

fucking hell, he’s visiting his mom. I really wasn’t prepared to commit this much emotional energy towards reading this chapter today. BUT VERY WELL, WE PRESS ON

?? wait she’s not there?

is this supposed to explain how Dabi knew who Hawks really was? except that there’s the little matter of how he even know where to find his mother in the first place. feels like we’re still missing something there, but oh well

OH MY GOD

RHA I TAKE BACK EVERY WORD I EVER SPOKE AGAINST YOU. YOU ARE A SCANLATION GROUP FILLED WITH ANGELS LMAO. I WILL TAKE THIS PANEL IN MY HANDS, AND TREASURE IT AND KEEP IT SAFE

ANYWAY, BECAUSE MY TIRED BIRD SON’S LIFE SUCKED SO MUCH ALREADY, IT TURNS OUT HE’S ACTUALLY PLEASED WITH THIS NEW TURN OF EVENTS LOL HOW ABOUT THAT

GOOD FOR YOU BBY. YOU GO OUT THERE AND BE YOUR OWN PERSON

and in all seriousness, I love that identity he chooses -- chooses, because it actually is him making a choice now, possibly for the very first time in his life -- is “guy who helps people”, though. it really is nothing short of miraculous that he held on to that kind of optimism and desire to do good even with everything he’s been through. there were so many times he could have chosen to turn his back on the world in retaliation for the way it treated him. but he didn’t!! and here he is now, finally free, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life now is simply to help others. anyway please excuse me for a moment, I need to go find some sort of basket or a big vase to put all of my fresh new Hawks Feels in, pardonne-moi

YEAH BOIIIIII

“FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS, MISTER JEANIST, WHERE DID YOU FIND YOUSELF THAT SWEETASS CAR.” hey, all I’m saying is if this boy’s wings really aren’t growing back, he’s gonna need to find himself a new means of transportation y’know?

oh my god you guys it’s a flashback to his mom buying him the Endeavor plushie when he was like two because, and I quote, ALL MIGHT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE

oh my god oh my god. my boy out here with a new lease on life finding hope in the darkest of times

wasn’t your throat supposed to be all fucked up lmao. Horikoshi was suddenly all “oh shit the VAs are gonna be pissed at me if I keep this up huh”

“that’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy” motherfucker IT IS A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN. FORECAST SAID NOTHING ABOUT THIS

:’)

yes ma’am. yes indeed. confirmed, I really will straight up fight some motherfuckers for this child. well not really, but YOU KEEP YOUR DISCOURSE OFF MY LAWN AND OUT OF MY BLOG YOU HEAR. THIS IS A HAWKS-FRIENDLY SPACE. WE RESPECT TAKAMI KEIGO IN THESE STREETS

and he’s saying (or is he thinking?? what a weirdly shaped speech bubble this is) that even if what Dabi said about the Todoroki household is true, “I’m not sure it’s the same now.” which happens to be ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. man this whole chapter really is all about saying “fuck the past” and moving forward and I am living for it

SON!!!!

“the first step is at my beginning” fklkjlk. what an iconic fucking line??

AND HIS WINGS!!!! THEY ACTUALLY ARE GROWING BACK AHHHHHHH. “PUT A RAINCHECK ON THAT CAR, JEANIST-SAN.” THE HAWKSMOBILE CAN WAIT, RIGHT NOW HE HAS TO GO INSERT HIMSELF BACK INTO THE TODODRAMA WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

you guys. I came here ready for some BAKUDEKU HOSPITAL ANGST, and I got DIDDLY SHIT of that, and none of my other kids were even in this chapter, but!!! ASK ME IF I CARE LMAO omg. because bird son is hanging with his new best friend, and he’s out here Finding Himself and picking up the pieces and putting them back together stronger than ever because RESILIENCE HAS A NAME, AND IT’S SPELLED H-A-W-K-S, and you guys. profound, my love for this child. holy shit. hey google, play Silence by Marshmello

[itsthestutterforme]

Becoming Mine (Vincenzo)

Summary: Y/N is working with Vincenzo and a loyal ally from Italy. Han seok captures her and tortures her for information. She holds out longer than he hoped and wants her loyalty for himself.//SMUT WARNING, MINORS DNI

--

Jang Hanseok sent Ms. Choi to get her hands dirty and oversee the torture of Y/N for information. Y/N and Vincenzo grew up in the Mafia together. They taught each other everything.

He has asked Y/N for help with taking down Babel and she said yes without any questions asked. And now she has to suffer the consequences of loyalty.

First they started with electrocution. They tied her to a metal chair and put spark plugs on the back side of the chair. They would send a jolt, each longer than the last. "Go to hell!" She yells at Ms. Choi after the jolt that lasted 20 seconds.

Then they moved on to cutting with the thinnest daggers. Death by a thousand cuts, she always thought it was a cliche thing to use. But hey, to each their own torture method.

Her hair sticks to her forehead and the sides of her neck as he digs his knife across her collar bone. "Fuck!"

Ms. Choi walks into Hanseok's office with a grimace. "What's wrong?" "She's not breaking. She's a lot stronger than I thought." Ms. Choi says, linking her hands behind her back. Hanseok stands from his chair and rounds the desk.

"What tactics have you used?" He asks. "Electrocution, cutting, waterboarding, fire and even bludgeoning and she still tells me to go to hell." Choi rambles.

"I could use someone of her loyalty," Hanseok states. "I want to meet her," he adds. "With all due respect, sir, she'll never agree to that. She's endure days of torture for Vincenzo, she isn't going to give him up or betray him. She's willing to risk her life for him." "Will you risk your life for me?" He asks, searching her face for a response.

"I'll kill anyone you tell me to, sir," "That didn't answer my question. I still want to see her." He says. Ms. Choi drives him to the warehouse where they keep Y/N. She was currently unconscious from the pain she has endured. Hanseok's face grimaced and he says, "You took get your hands dirty a little too literally."

Y/N gasped as she regain consciousness and she groaned softly. She looked up to see Jang Hanseok and he smiles. "Who the hell are you?" She asked before spitting out some blood in her mouth. "Hopefully, I'll be your new boss." He says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "In your dreams, tough guy." She snarks.

A man punches her across the face and she looked at him with pure annihilation and vexation. That look gave Hanseok butterflies in his stomach. The feeling was beyond the norm and he had no idea what the origin was. She opened her mouth to say something else but Hanseok intercepted.

"Touch her again, and I'll have you thrown off a building." He threatens. Hanseok watched as the man stepped away from her. "You, cut her loose," He adds, pointing to another man.

"Sir, are you sure about this?" Choi asked and he didn't answer. She was cut free and the first thing Y/N grabs is the man's throat before breaking it.

Another man came at her and she ducked under the punch before punching him twice in his armpit before punching his throat. She limps over to the table where her weapons were and grabbed her smaller knives.

She tossed them in the air and within seconds, three men dropped dead with the knives in their skulls. Which only left Ms. Choi and Jang Hanseok.

She grabs a gun from one of the corpses and aimed it at them. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you both," "Do that and my men sets that entire plaza on fire with everyone inside."

"I'm calling your bluff lady, you're just trying to save your ass because you know that I'll put bullet in your head without blinking," she says as she cocks the gun and applies steady pressure on trigger.

"Wa-" she pulls the trigger and sends a bullet straight through Ms. Choi's head. Hanseok chuckles wryly before saying, "Now I'm in need of a new lawyer and strategist," he says, his hands still stuffed in his pockets.

"Who are you?" "The CEO of Babel," he answers nonchalantly. "So you're the one who started all this,"

"Well I can't take all the credit. She had her fair share," he says, referencing to Ms. Choi. Red dots appear on Y/N chest and she notices. "I have this place surrounded. One move to shoot me and you'll get shot to pieces. Just take the easy way and work for me. It'll be a lot of fun." "Right, like killing innocent people is fun,"

"It seems like you enjoy killing people." "Only those who deserve it," she snaps. "Regardless of your intentions, my guys wills drop you before you can fire. Question is, do you want to live and be treated like a queen?"

She doesn't respond and he adds, "Or I can kill both you and your mother. She loves to visit a little shop in.. Siena, right? What's it's called again?"

Her grip tightens on the gun before tossing it across the room. "Kill her and I promise to kill you and every single one of your sponsors," "Looks like you and I have more in common than we thought. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He walks out of the warehouse and she hesitantly follows.

Y/N's POV

You sigh softly as you stepping into the cold, crisp in contrast of the warm, misty air in bathroom. You had pulled your hair into a loose ponytail before you put on Hanseok's shorts and t-shirt. You hate to say it, but his clothes were extremely comfortable. He promised to take me out shopping tomorrow for clothes.

"I didn't know what you liked so I bought everything," he says, referencing to the various plates of food on the kitchen counter. Your eyes settle on kimchi jiagae and you make your way over to the table.

You a grab a few bowls to try some of the kimchi jiagae, bulgogi, dakdoritgang, dakgangjeong and mixed rice. You set them on the tray sit on the pillow he prepared for you.

"You like spicy food, huh?" He says and you nod. "Yeah, my brother likes spicy food too." You wait until he comes back with his tray of food to dig in. You hum lowly as you eat your bulgogi and you feel a hand touch my chin. You pull away and look at him with confused.

"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm sorry, I just.. you look.. you're beautiful," "If you think that you can someone convince me into sleeping with you, you have another thing coming,"

"What? I can't appreciate your beauty without something in return?" He asks innocently. "Hell no," you sneer. He chuckles before saying, "I'm going to have some fun with you."

Over the next few weeks, he has bought you a whole new wardrobe, shoes and jewelry. He's even made sure my hair and nails are done with complementary spa days.

He's been pampering you ever since you were a part of his life. You've been enjoying it but you've developed a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It also raises questions. Why did he choose you? How long will this pampering thing last? Is your mom still held hostage? What is he planning on doing with Vincenzo?

"Hey, kitten." You roll your eyes at his new pet name for you. You have no idea where he got it from because you are nothing like a kitten. You were playful or adventurous, but you were high maintenance.

"How many times do I have to tell.." you trail off as you see him in a light blue three piece suit with white leather shoes. His hair was combed to the side with gel and you could smell his cologne from where you sat.

"Why are you dressed like that?" "Do you like it?" He say, nearing you slowly. "No," you lie and he smiles at you. "You sure about that?" He leans his hands on either side of you and ducked his head to be at your eye level. "I bought you a matching dress. Get dressed, we leave in an hour."

He nudges his nose against yours before leaving the room and leaving you hot and bothered. Ever since you walked in on him lifting weights without his shirt, your mind came up with various, filthy scenarios that made your panties soaked.

You stand up from the chair and walked into the bedroom to see a goregous silk, light blue dress with diamond seam around the midrange of the stomach.

You take a shower and apply your favorite lotion and perfume before you slide on the dress. You latch on the sparkly, light blue heels. You put on your robe and sit down to apply some foundation, highlight and mascara on to your face.

You were just about to clip your hair up and leave a few curls out but you hear Hanseok say, "Leave your hair down." You look at him through the mirror to see him leaning his arm on the door frame, pulling his dress shirt taught around his solid biceps. He eyes you with a soft smile on his face. "You look beautiful," he says as he nears you once again.

"I know." You stand up and meet him half way across the room. "Shall we?" He says , offering you his arm. "Let's just get this night over with,"

**

You two return at one in the morning and you were infuriated. He spent the whole night flirting with random women at the gala. "You make no sense to me, Jang Hanseok." You say, taking off your earring and tossing them on the dresser.

"What makes you say that?" He asks, sitting on the bed to take off his shoes. "You pamper me with all these gifts, clothes, jewelry to convince me to stay in your life and then you spend the entire night flirting with every one you could lay your eyes on." You snap.

He takes off his vest with a sigh and loosens his tie. "I wanted to see if you cared. Cared about me and my attention." "Well, do you?" He adds. "If I didn't care, do you think I would have said anything?" You snap.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you inches away from his face. He tightens his grip and says through gritted teeth, "I've had enough of your attitude, just answer the question."

"I just did." His fingers dig into you neck enough to cause discomfort but not enough to break skin. "Do you care about me?" He asks. "Unfortunately, yes." "Why unfortunately?" "It only makes it harder to-" "

"To betray me?" You push his hand away and say, "What the hell makes you think of something like that? I was going to say it makes it harder to say no but you always think everyone is out to get you. It should be me asking the qu-"

He stops your rant by slamming his lips on yours. One hand rests on the back of your head and the other smooths over the dip of your back.

Your fingers work on unbuttoning his shirt as you walk him onto the bed. He sits on the edge and pulls you into his lap. You pull his shirt off his shoulder and leave kisses up his chest in it's wake.

He moans softly and you could feel his hard on press against your inner thigh. You tug the rest of his shirt off and push his back on the bed. You buck your hips against him and a soft whine leaves his lips.

You quiet him by tenderly biting down on his bottom lip. His lips latched onto yours and presses your core harder against him.

He pulls your hair gently to evade your attention from his lips. He rolls you on you stomach and stands. "Han seok, what are you-" he rips the dress open from the back, making you yell out in surprise.

"Damn it, I liked that dress." "There's plenty more where that came from kitten," he smooths his hands up the back of your legs and squeezes your ass.

You pull off the rest of your mangled dress, leaving you in your white lace set. "And don't you dare rip-" he rips the lace underwear in two and pulls you so your knees are on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to kill you, Han seok."

"I've been wanting to get a taste of you since I set my eyes on you." You let out a squeak when you feel his hot breath agaisnt your core.

You've never been in the position before so you have no idea what the expect. He licks up the stripe with slow, deep licks, each lick lasting longer on your clit. "Oh God," you grip the sheets with a white knuckle grip when he curls his tongue along the upper wall and caresses a g-spot. Your legs started to shake and loud moans leave your lips when he slips in two fingers and curled them hard.

You tried crawling away from him, feeling overwhelmed of the pleasure but he holds you back by your thighs. With a few more licks, you release yourself on his tongue and he hums with satisfaction.

"You taste a lot better than I thought, baby." Your body already started to twitch and you could tell that this was going to be a long night.

You roll onto your back and chills roll down your spine when you see him licking your juices off of his fingers. Pushing yourself backwards, he pulls you closer to him by your ankles. "Han seok, please. It's too much."

"You're doing great, kitten. Just relax and let it wash over you." He says softly, pecking your lips before settling himself between your legs once again.

He spreads your legs wide before he sucks on your clit harder and faster than the first time, sending shock waves through your body. "Fuck! Oh my God!"

Looking down at him, he locks eyes with you and he completely devours your bundle of folds. He alternate between licking side to side and up and down with a curl of his tongue.

Your back arches and stars cloud your vision as you come down from your second high. He pulls away from you with his lower face covered in your juices. "Come here," he lifts your trembling body and dropping it into his lap. He smooths his hands over your ass before unbuckling his dress pants.

He pulls down his boxers and his erection stands up tall, making your whimper. He's going to destroy you. "I'll be gentle," he whispers, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

You nod your head in agreement and lines himself up at your entrance. Throwing your head back as your walls expand and contract around him. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck and he bounces you in his lap.

Time slows a few seconds when you meet his gaze. "Oh God," you chant as the knot intensified in your stomach. "I'm close, Han seok."

His lips locked with yours and your boys jolts forward when his thumb rubs hard circles on your clit. Your entire body spasms as he cums inside of you but he continued to rub circles until you came.

He stayed buried inside of you while you sat in his lap as you both catches your breaths. Resting his forehead against yours, he says, "I love you. You believe me what I say that, right?"

You nod and holds the sides of your face. "Say it," "I love you," "Good girl," he pulls out of you and slides you both under the covers.

You lay directly ontop of him with a thin sheet covering the both of you, sighing as he draws circles on your back.

[shaebertooth]

I want to go ahead and apologize now to anyone who is still waiting on a commission from me. I know of like two off the top of my head, but please keep in mind I do suffer from memory loss problems so I may need a reminder if you're unsure if I recall you or not.

My life this year had started off in a not-so-great way, and while it's no excuse, it has greatly affected my mental and physical health in ways I'm actually pretty afraid of, given my recent bout with a hospital stay and surgery.

My current home is owned by someone I thought was a friend of mine. He bought the house back in 2019 with the full intention of us moving in together: his sister, Cori, myself, and him of course. This was all great until his sister turned into an absolute nightmare of a roommate, moved out (and ran off to florida with some online friend) and left us high and dry.

So we found another roommate, and things were decent from there.. until towards the end of last year.

Main roommate in question took a trip to chicago to be with some friends, and ended up falling in love with the place, and planned to move there eventually - okay, not so bad, we were all okay with this, we knew it was happening.

Then my surgery happened. Along with being unable to work until January 1st when I was finally cleared, and now trying to scramble to find a job, and throwing out anywhere between 5-10 applications a day. In the meantime it's fallen on my poor girlfriend to pay my portion of the bills, which I am eternally grateful for, but also dreading and ashamed of. I owe her the fucking world.

All of a sudden, my roommate has put his foot down saying he's selling the house by the end of March. April is as long as he's giving us to figure out things out and find a place to go. girlfriend's mom's apartment is way too small, and doesn't allow for the 3 cats we have, and my mom sold her house shortly after we moved into the new house, and lives in a senior apartment complex. Neither places are places we can go to.

When we tried to plead our case, stating to him that my bank needs *60 days* of work history to help me with a house loan.. he simply shrugged his shoulders and walked out. In his exact words on discord, he stated "As the owner of the property this is my decision and it is non-negotiable." AKA he doesn't care what happens to us, he's dead-set on going to chicago, with those rose-tinted glasses glued to his face. This was what he sent to us yesterday. Saturday the 14th.

Needless to say.. my emotional state is a wreck. I'm worried I won't find a job in time, worried we'll have to move way far away from where we've settled, flip everything around to start somewhere else.. and before anyone tries to suggest apartment hunting: we can't. My girlfriend is self-employed making iron-on patches, which involves a LOT of noise running constantly. Embroidery machines and sewing machines all times of the night/day.

We would either need to specifically be placed in a corner lot where we can't disturb anyone, or luck out and have some deaf neighbors. It would also need to accept 3 cats, as these cats are *not* going anywhere else but with us.

I'm so fucking stressed to the point of headaches, and my body thinking it's time for my monthly flow.. all month long. It's scaring me that all of this is happening, and I'm dreading another hospital stay, especially because my surgery site still bleeds from time to time.

So, I apologize if I've been slow with activity or you're waiting on something from me. My life is being quite literally ripped out from under my feet, and there's not much I can really do about it except to pray for a job and grind myself into dust trying to make a living. In this fuckin american economy.

I wish I could get a fucking break.

[chaos-caffeinated]

Miracle of a Chance Ch. 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Taglist: @ultimatebottom69 @bitxhinthecomments @natiebug1

This is the longest chapter of yet, so there will be two parts. One posted today, the other tomorrow!

Enjoy!

There's a little extra in there, I didn't write alcina x reader for nothing.

Giggles erupted into the hallway in a teasing manner, and it came from none other of the three witches themselves: Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. It would stop for a couple minutes and resume once again. Inside a room, the library, was 7-year-old Ezekiel with his mother, Lady Dimitrescu.

Currently in his home studies, Ezekiel's cheeks were puffed as he pouts at his mother's direction, clearly showing his frustration.

"Once you finish with your assignment you can play with your sisters." She stated calmly, reading over his answers. She skimmed through the answers with her glasses on.

"But I did do my work." He raised his papers, "See?" The page was filled of his handwriting. For the past hour, he had been practicing his handwriting, his natural writing and his calligraphy; it needed work, and that is why he was practicing.

Alcina wanted all her children educated, but it was unnecessary for her girls to study what he was because of his human stance. She wanted him prepared for the world, for he would represent what men should be: courteous, respectful, self-worthy, yet still carrying the assertiveness and confidence without humiliating anybody.

She looked up to admit he did finished, "What about the rest?" She asked, opening her palm, only to receive the paper.

"Mom...you said if I had finished my assignment, and I did." Ezekiel confidently spoke, smiling small as he made a point. She was surprised that he listened so well, but she was also slightly upset that now she had to let him go, "Well, Mr. Dimitrescu, You are correct-"

Ezekiel beamed at her reaction, "So I can go?" He asked, almost bouncing in his chair, beginning to pack up.

"Wait a minute, your homework."

Ezekiel slumped in his chair, and Alcina raised an eyebrow which caused him to straighten up in his chair.

Then she placed her hand over the other, "You'll read 5 paragraphs of your favorite book and recite it to me in French, in addition, you'll also practice more of some cursive words to get better at it. That's it for today, you've done well." She praised which lit up his facial features with pride.

"Thank you, Mom!" He cleaned up his desk before running out to the hallway to meet with his sisters.

Alcina smirked softly as she continued grading his papers, distracting her for awhile before going to her bedroom today.

~

Each of the girls' plan was to scare Ezekiel as he searched for them, already deciding to play hide-and-seek. They were ruthless when hiding from Ezekiel, but he would always scream then laugh at their attempt, it was music to their ears when not dealing with actual men, or maidens.

As Cassandra listened to his footsteps, she noticed the pattern of walking and searching, and running with confident of their whereabouts.

When laughter erupted and bounced on the walls, the footsteps stopped only for there to be a scrape.

"Cassandra!" He shouted with confidence laced with his voice, giggling afterwards, "I know that's you."

"It only counts when you find me, little brother!~" She replied arrogantly.

Ezekiel placed his finger on his chin as he glanced around the main living room. He scanned the area before noticing a shadow cast on the ceiling, "There you are! On the ceiling!" He called out. The mass of flies buzzed off from the ceiling and reached to the floor, nearing him only transformed to her human form, giggling, "So you found me first?" She grins, ruffling his hair only for Ezekiel to giggle and fixing it. His hair was in a ponytail with a bow on the back.

"Now you must help me find Bela!" He pointed at nothing in particular as he took charge in the moment.

"Lead the way, brethren." She picked him up and settled him on over her shoulders. Together they searched and searched, and he even looked on the ceiling. That was until they entered a room. Like every room, it was elegantly designed with the golden details, white walls. There were two wardrobes on each side, and both Cassandra and Ezekiel checked twice because "checking twice removes...it's just better to check twice." he would come up with, and the anti-climatic quote would make Daniela burst out laughing only for him to laugh with her.

Once they check the wardrobes, Ezekiel hummed in dissapointment, "They're not here..." he commented, crossing his arms and resting his finger on his chin before he raised an eyebrow at a brick on the floor. He pulled his hand away from his face slightly before making his way to the brick only to notice a broken side of the wall, "Hey, Cassie....what is...this?" His voice faltered as he felt an ominous vibe from inside. It was horribly lit with the terrible rotting wood compared to the golden accents in the castle. The oil lamp was still lit, and he even stepped back.

"OOh~ Bela and Daniela could be down there, mother is going to be very mad." She inspected the broken wall, "Hm..." She turned around to look at Ezekiel with a grin, "Shall we go?"

"Uhm...I don't....I don't want to..." Ezekiel wrapped his own arms around his shoulders as he stared at the room with a uncertain look.

"Oh come on, baby brother, you're going to let them win? We spent an hour looking for them and they could be here." Cassandra pitched in, "Come on, it'll be quick. We'll hop in, and out in no time-"

"You promise?" He asked, his hands trembling softly against his arms as he made eye contact with her piercing yellow eyes.

"Yes, yes, I do promise. Now shall we? Do you want to be behind me?" She started walking inside, "There's a ladder." she revelled, "Bela and Daniela made so much effort for you to look for them."

Hesitantly, Ezekiel followed. He watched and observed everything around him as he became more sensitive, getting goosebumps at any point. He watched Cassandra just become her swarm as she went to the bottom of the ladders and he turned around to get down. He was cautious about his movements as he tried not to get his clothes dirtied from the dust.

When he reached to the bottom, he followed Cassandra as he passed a pile of loose papers by the table and just watched her become the swarm again and into the cracks of the wall. He was confused as to how she knew her way, but he was disappointed that the wall was not a signal of dead end, a signal for him to turn back.

In the process of Ezekiel and Cassandra making their way to the cellar, Alcina was enjoying her meal from her favorite maid, the nanny that was taking care of her son when not playing with his sisters, and someone she secretly considered someone closer than a personal maid.

Her red, semi-glossy lips were pressed against your flesh as she sucked on the blood, making you grunt as you bit your thumb.

"You make a wonderful noise, dear, I made no mistake in trusting you." She complimented as she pulled way, her lips removing from you sounded that of a separated kiss, a kiss you desired for so long.

"Thank you, my lady." You sighed softly as you lay on the bed, sheets covering your torso and below.

She smirked and caressed your cheek, confidence surging as you leaned closer to her, "Who would have thought that because of your persistence, you would be here?"

You turn your face slightly to face her, to see her smile lines, to see her this close to notice the brush strokes, the eye shadow, and the beautiful pair of eyes you laid upon, "I had no participation other than following you, my lady."

She pressed her smile, and even then she got closer ever so slowly, "Well, my dear, I made a good choice. And, draga, it's Alcina to you only." before pulling you in a soft kiss. That moment, you felt light-headed, you felt your heart rate go up by the second and hoping never to forget what happened before you felt her whip away. The rush of air hitting your body like whiplash as you heard it. A scream, and not just any scream you became accustomed. Your eyes widen in fear and concern as you sat up.

Alcina was already up and getting her robe on, helping you with the gown. She wasn't worried about you two anymore, but Ezekiel and it showed.

You felt her hands shiver as you looked up at her, "Go, I'll follow you."

And she didn't hesitate to go.

~~~~

Oh no a cliffhanger?! Oh but you knew already, welp, until tomorrow! Ta-ta!~

[x-childish-x]

Hey you! Can I please request a one shot with my Kyle-bear (Kyle Spencer) with prompts 37 and 40 of the non NSFW list (I couldn't find the NSFW one 😔)

Return of the Dead

Pairing: Kyle Spencer x female reader

Fandom: American Horror Story

Warnings: mention of death, female reader, angst!

Word Count: 1,172

A/N:  OKAY, IN THIS VERSION KYLE'S HANDS ARE HIS OWN BECAUSE I FULLY BELIEVE MADISON WOULDN'T HAVE WANTED HIM TO HAVE THE HANDS OF SOMEONE WHO VIOLATED HER. Okay now.. thank you so much for this request! I hope you enjoy this! It ended up being quite long, I'm sorry. As far as the NSFW prompt list, it's at the very very beginning of my blog. I'm still in the process of making a masterlist, which will include both prompts.

Summary: After bugging Madison and Zoe nonstop Kyle gets fed up and decides he, your dead boyfriend, needs to see you.

(gif not mine!)

For three months you were the only thing Kyle asked for, even before Fiona “restored” him, you're name was the one thing that always left his mouth. Each time Zoe or Madison would enter the room he would gaze at them, muttering your name as a question.

“Y-Y/n?”

They would sigh, looking at him with genuine remorse, “I'm sorry Kyle, but you can't go see her yet.”

And he'd shake his head, not liking their answer. He'd say your name again, more firmly this time, “Y/n.”

Zoe would hand him the photo of you that she took when she had tried to take Kyle back to his mom. Kyle would stare at it, mumbling your name over and over as he admires you. It was a picture he took of you during your first date. You had gotten ice cream together and accidentally gotten it on your nose. Classic and cheesy and absolutely adorable. Kyle wanted to see you more than anything else, but he didn't understand the state you had been in.

You'd been an absolute mess. You'd skipped that party on that fateful night, deciding that you needed to study for your mid-term more than party with Kyle. You regretted every moment of not going and spent the first month and a half sobbing your heart out each day, unaware of the fact that Zoe had tried to reach out to you multiple times only to hear your cries. When the third month passed it wasn't any easier, but you managed to compose yourself enough to not cry every day and to even begin going back to your lectures. 

By the third month, Fiona had “restored” Kyle, and his need to see you had not dwindled in the slightest bit. Each day he'd go to Zoe in the morning, sitting on her bed and waiting for her to wake up. After the fifth day, she didn't jump anymore but simply watched Kyle.

“Y/n?”

“Kyle,” Zoe would sigh, “I'm sorry but not yet, she's not ready for this. To understand this.”

Kyle would argue back until finally, Madison would snap at him, ordering him to get to work. It wasn't until another week passed that Kyle finally snapped.

“You just want to keep me here for yourself!” 

“Kyle?” Zoe gasped, “No, that's not it at all. Y/n isn't ready to understand this.”

This would only infuriate him even more, he had thrown a vase in his anger, fully yelling now, “No! No! She's my girlfriend, not yours! I know her, you don't! She would want me there now, she would have wanted me there months ago!”

It had been on a random day when Kyle finally snapped at Zoe, completely insignificant but luckily on your day off from school and work. You were sat at your desk, taking notes on the current chapter in one of your classes, mindlessly trying to distract yourself from the fact that Kyle wasn't there with you. His head wasn't on your shoulder, his voice wasn't begging you to stop doing work, his arms weren't wrapping around you and pulling you away from your desk. You paused, looking up at the small photo of Kyle and you that you had on your desk when the front door to your apartment burst open.

On instinct you screamed, leaping out of your chair and stumbling backward as you looked towards the man who stormed into your apartment. You stared in horror, your eyes impossibly wide as you looked at your dead boyfriend. A sob wrenched itself out of your throat unconsciously, causing a hand to fly up and cover your mouth as Kyle stepped forward and you stepped back.

“Y/n.. honey, don't you remember me?”

Another sob yanked out of your throat as you stumbled back until you hit your couch, tears falling as you cried out, “It’s all in my head. This isn’t actually happening, you’re not real!”

“Of course I'm real."

Your knees gave way as you crashed to the floor, your tears uncontrollable as you shook your head desperate to get rid of this sick hallucination. Only it wasn't a hallucination, and that became even more apparent as Kyle sat in front of you, criss-cross, and gently laid down his hands. Immediately you cried harder, just short of screaming as you noticed the clover on his arm and you knew this wasn't your Kyle. Your Kyle would never get a tattoo, your Kyle would never get a matching tattoo with one of your frat brothers.

“Honey… love, y/n, please. Calm down, you're going to attract people,” Kyle begged as he took in your shaking form, desperate to hold you and bring you comfort as he'd once been able to. You let out another loud wail and on instinct Kyle reached out, pulling you into his chest, “Please.. calm down.”

“No! No! No!” You cried out pushing against ‘Kyle’, “You're not Kyle, you're not real! Kyle would never get a tattoo!”

You could feel him stiffen at your words but he continued his attempt to calm you. He rests his head on your shoulder, his mouth near your ear, “It's me, honey, it's me. You know it's me because nobody but you and I know about what my mother did to me for all those years. All those years until you got me out and got me safe, here, with you.”

His name left your lips in a soft cry as you grasped onto him, your tears slowly beginning to stop, “You're dead.. you were in multiple… I saw your… oh god Kyle what's going on.”

“I can explain it all later."

“Kyle!?” A girl shouted as she ran into your apartment, eyes landing on the two of you.

“Who are you?” You immediately questioned as you felt Kyle huff against your shoulder, refusing to turn his head.

“I'm Zoe, I brought your boyfriend back.”

Your eyes widened as your tears seemed to finally stop, “Yea, because that's a normal thing to say.”

“It's true,” Kyle whispered, “She brought me back. She and her friend.”

“I... I don't understand,” You mumbled, pulling back to look at Kyle.

“I'll help you understand,” Kyle smiled softly, his hand gently pushing your hair back causing you to notice the thick scars around his wrists.

“Kyle,” You mumbled grabbing his wrist gently, “What happened… why are there scars?"

 “I'm okay y/n. I told you I can explain it all soon. Let's just enjoy now okay?”

“I... I guess I'll leave," Zoe mumbled, stepping back out of your apartment, “I uh.. you know where I am Kyle.”

He simply nodded, having not looked at the girl once since she came. Instead, he stared at you, admiring you like it was the first time he ever saw you. He never wanted to let you go, and now that he had you back he never planned to let you go. You were completely freaked out by the situation, that was a given, but deep down you were just happy to have Kyle back.

[me-4eva]

Harringrove Feedback Fest

This list is by no means exhaustive but OH MY GOD THERE ARE SO MANY GOOD FICS IN THIS FANDOM!! Anyone who knows my taste should know these are heavy on the angst by and large but there are also some sweet ones in there! (Also huge thank you to @gothyringwald for starting this!) It is currently very late so I will go through tomorrow and add some more details about each one but these are fics that live rent-free in my head... also I’ve tried to tag the authors as best I can

In no particular order:

What you had and what you lost by @its-tortle

Donna Richardson, formerly Hargrove, née Marcs, has not seen her son in nearly a decade. She had run from her husband in a panic with no time to turn back for Billy, and by the time she searched for him, he was gone without a trace.

It was her greatest regret.

OR

The one in which Billy's mom comes to look for him, just as he's begun to heal.

My broken house behind me (and all good things ahead) by @ageolwian

He relives in vivid, distorted detail that time he got into it with Jonathan behind The Hawk; and when he got beaten into oblivion at the Byers’ old house; and that interrogation under duress beneath Starcourt Mall; all of them blurring together into one violent mess inside his head. Carol Vaughn holds him off the floor by his throat in Joyce Byers’ kitchen, while her boyfriend yells at her from the sidelines that he’s had enough, Carol, that he can’t breathe; the lights around them flash neon pink and blue by turns, and at some point a gang of Russians drive a Cadillac convertible through the living room wall.

Carol says, ‘hey there little Stevie,’ and kisses him on the cheek.

Or: Mr Hargrove’s supposed to be in Chicago all weekend.

We will be citizens by sarapod (four_right_chords) (couldn’t find a tumblr so linked their AO3 account!)

"This disease will be the end of many of us, but not nearly all, and the dead will be commemorated and will struggle on with the living, and we are not going away. We won't die secret deaths anymore. The world only spins forward. We will be citizens. The time has come."

The Party lives through the plague.

Fuck my heart, hope to die by Yassoda

When Steve notices Billy missing school, he tries to think nothing of it.

He fails.

He ends up sticking his nose in something unexpected, somewhat sad, somewhat dangerous, but ultimately good.

Like Steve needs more danger in his life.

---

A lot of Billy's life being shitty, and Steve's life being shitty, and them dealing with that however they can.

Lego Therapy by @cherrydreamer

Billy struggles with his recovery after the Mindflayer.

Steve helps.

With some Lego.

Bruises on both my knees (for you) by @bentnotbroken1fanfiction

Billy hasn't been able to satisfy the itch beneath his skin since leaving California. Unfortunately, he doesn't think he has a chance in hell to find what he needs in small town USA.

But that all changes when he sees the fire in Steve Harrington's eyes the night they fight. He sees something in them that he sometimes sees in himself when he looks in the mirror.

Harrington has demons. Just like Billy

Billy Hargrove Hates Nancy Wheeler by deadwife

Billy Hargrove Hates Nancy Wheeler.

Or

Steve gets in a car accident, and nobody understands why Billy Hargrove is in the waiting room with them.

you're cold (and i burn) by @holdenduckfield

Move on. Let it heal.

Maybe that’s why Steve said yes when Max asked him to help move boxes out of Billy’s room after the dust settled. He could hear her voice. Too many. Too heavy.

Just like his wounds. His grief. Too many. Too heavy.

(Or, Steve steals the glass ashtray from Billy's bedside table and things start to go bump in the night.)

put your lights on by @desk-of-nekostar

better leave your lights on, 'cause there's a monster livin' under my bed, whisperin' in my ear

Tommy Hagan doesn't deserve Steve Harrington, but Billy Hargrove sure as fuck doesn't deserve him either.

Vaya Con Dios by GayerThings

Neil said Hawkins was a 'fresh start', away from the sins and vices of San Francisco. A good, proper place for the family. It's everything Billy loathes. But it's somewhere quiet, a shit-hole Billy can lay low in until he makes a break for it and escapes this nightmare. He has a plan. Finish high school, save up some money, and run. No friends, no secrets spilled, no caring about anyone or anything.

But everything changes after his fight with Steve at the Byers' house when he's brought home the next morning in a cop car. It's just like old times. Something goes wrong, and he pays the goddamn price for it. Sometimes it's just for existing. Sometimes he thinks his dad dragged them out here with the hope that Billy will mess up and someone else will do his dad's dirty work for him. So he tries to hide it. All of it. Climbs to the top of the popularity ladder with his fists and his charm. Finds the easy girls. But even then he still can't stop what his dad's been trying to beat out of him for as long as he can remember.

Not with King Steve in the picture. Not when the goddamn bastard keeps messing up his plan.

Second Thoughts by @callieb

That night, 1984

Steve sits at the kitchen table, a pack of frozen carrots wrapped in a tea towel against his swollen purple face. "I'm fine," he says. It’s over. They fought the monsters, and they won. Now he can rest.

Except in real life, the credits don't roll, and they don't get to skip ahead to Christmas.

Of Cats and Men by Thei

Billy hits a cat with his car, and finds himself responsible for three little kittens.

Fortunate Son by Ludovico_is_my_homeboy

Experiment Seven escapes the Lab.

Driven on by Brenner, an inter-dimensional gateway, and his own obsessive love, Experiment Six follows him.

getting better by banksoflochlomond

"Dude," Dustin says, "You can't just Schrodinger's Cat your way out of trauma."

[little-lemon-lattes]

The Scheme

🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—Word count: 1.9k

— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context

— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!

You were on Cloud-fucking-9.

The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.

She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.

That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.

With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.

“Surprise...?” you peeped.

Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “

“What’s all this, y/n?”

“I, uh... breakfast?”

Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”

You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.

“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”

All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.

“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”

Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.

“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”

And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.

Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.

The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.

“Look, the sun!”

You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.

“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.

You turned to her sharply.

“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”

It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.

You reached for the woman’s shoulder.

“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.

You had to giggle at that one.

“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”

Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.

“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”

All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.

“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”  

All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.

Hilda turned to Ambrose.

“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”

Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.

  “-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”

Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head.   “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”

He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”

Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.

“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”

As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.

“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”

With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.

Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.

At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.

The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.

“Y/n?”

“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”

A game was now afoot.

And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.

[saphirered]

OK! I promise (kinda) that this is the last one (maybe). Eldritch Knight nearly dies protecting essek form something (assassin, Rouge kryn soldier, etc) and essek's mom kinda pick up that like s/o has saved her son so much that she invites them over for dinner as a thank you, they accept the invite -cause why not- and chaos ensues, Verin is there and teasing his older brother/jokingly challenging s/o to a battle. Thank for everything you are by at my favorite writer on here, have a beautiful day!

Booooooy this is turning into a long one so I'll have to split it up in two parts for the sake of readability 😅. Here comes the first part. Enjoy 😘.

It’s a lovely day out. The moon’s shining bright, the stars sparkle like millions of crystals in the night sky and you and your favourite drow wizard had the opportunity to get away from your busy lives and spend some time together not on official business; an opportunity not often found in these days. You were grateful to spend your time on a walk outside in one of gardens reserved only for the higher classes of Rosohna and their guests. A nice day indeed.

Well, it would have been a nice day if it hadn’t been ruined by a rather rude interruption. Was it truly too much to ask for some peace and quiet and alone time to just relax? Apparently so. Neither of you seem to be able to get a break from the chaos.

You’re flung into the pillar of the gazebo-like structure at the centre of the gardens, feeling the cracking of your ribs as you hit it and drop to the ground with a loud thud. Hitting the stone with your fist you get up with a growl. That hurt. A lot. You hook your foot kicking up your sword catching it in your hand.

“I’ve had it up to here with these mages!” You duck behind the pillar to avoid a firebolt being thrown at your face. You see Essek struggling with the other Volstrucker. If you keep this battlefield divided much longer both of you might not make it out and since these gardens aren’t as public a space, guards don’t regularly patrol. You can only hope someone has noticed something because this is not liking good. At this rate you might need an accomplished cleric and a pretty good amount of diamonds on site sooner rather than later.

You look around the corner and send a bolt of blue crackling energy to your Volstrucker hitting them square in the chest. A firebolt is returned and strikes you in the shoulder singeing at the fabric of your clothes and your now exposed skin. You shrug off the pain in your chest, shoulder and the struggle breathing and release another witch bolt drawing closer to your opponent.

Taking some good hits and as difficult as it may be you’re close enough to the Volstrucker to strike. So is the Volstrucker. This was never going to be an easy fight and no matter how clever you are, so are they and one mistake is deadly. Keeping your injured arm close to you you move around quickly trying to exhaust their reserves enough to get a proper hit.

Your plan works. The movements get sloppier ever so slightly and just barely enough to get through the Volstrucker’s defences. A slash sends them stumbling holding the new wound and a hit with the pommel to the face takes the Volstrucker down bleeding. You turn your attention back to Essek and his attacker to see him cornered and on his last leg, a blow breaking through the shatters of a shield spell.

Kicking off and rushing over you use the momentum kicking off a stone bench to grab onto the neck of Essek’s opponent, wrapping your arms around and elbow down until they throw you off into the bench you jumped off. Feeling your already burning chest you’re forced to cough leaving an iron-like taste in your mouth. Not good. But this is life or death. You choose life.

Getting between Essek and the Volstrucker you cast a lightning bolt using your current space to your advantage. Not much places to dodge to from this side. The Volstrucker lands within a bed of flowers unmoving. A wave of relief comes over your as you see Essek back on his feet. While a little worse for wear, he’s alive.

“Next time you ask me to go out with you can we please go somewhere without your admirers trying to horribly murder you?” You joke between coughs, the taste of iron growing stronger.

“Perhaps it’s just the Luxon trying to intertwine our fates through making me admire you even more?” Essek places a hand on your back but quickly regrets it when you wince in pain.

“Perhaps we should find you a healer.” Essek suggests and you couldn’t agree more.

“Looks like we both can use a healer, or several.” You refer to the injuries the both of you sustained biting back the pain coming through the adrenaline from the fight.

Then it happened. You heard before you saw. Movement. Turning to see what it was you see the Volstrucker you knocked down first standing with a bow, string just released arrow flying, second one following in you and Essek’s direction. You quickly try to cast warding wind but you’re not quick enough. The first arrow strikes you in the gut. The second one is stopped, trajectory changed and sent into the bushes.

White hot searing pain. You’ve been shot before but never have been so rough already. The sensation is a new one entirely making you hyperaware of your body, your surroundings to the point you can hear every breath you take and the beat of your heart as you fall back from the impact. The warding wind drops as you do and you’re fighting to stay awake, a sudden fatigue and fog enters your brain.

Essek sees you fall, you can barely make out his expression; changing from worry to anger when focused on the Volstrucker. The next thing you see is darkness and for a brief second you think you’ve passed out and this is the Raven Queen beckoning you. Instead it’s a darkness summoned surrounding the Volstrucker until it disappears leaving nothing but a pile of dust.

There’s a constant ringing in your head but you’re still awake. Awake, bleeding and in pain. Essek, now the Volstrucker is dead and dealt with kneels down next to you, worry returning to his face as he’s unsure what to do. He reaches for the arrow shaft sticking out of your stomach but you stop him with what little force is left in your body.

“Don’t! Not unless you want me to bleed out. Just go get help. I’ll be fine.” You try to stabilise your breath as much as you can. To be honest, you don’t know for sure if you’ll be fine but that won’t change anything. You don’t hear his reply over the ringing in your ears but Essek strokes your cheek before he rushes off gods know where.

Next thing you know the face of a blue tiefling appears in your vision, behind her a green cloak. The arrow is pulled out and the burning pain is quickly replaced by a cool pressure until it disappears along with the majority of the pain in your chest. The sense of tunnel vision disappears and you see Essek looking worried waiting for anyone to say anything. You give him a weak smile.

“You owe me big time, dear.” You cough as Jester helps you sit up. Still a bit lightheaded you manage. Essek returns your smile but you can see the guilt in his eyes.

“And I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s nice and all. Can you guys please stop flirting?” Oh, Beauregard. Way to interrupt the moment. Doesn’t she know you could have gotten all the Mighty Nein’s favours owed to Essek erased in a snap of the fingers now? Jester and Beau help you to your feet and begin to support carry you back to the Xhorhaus.

The next few days you’re on bedrest as demanded by well, everyone around you, until you’re fully recovered and no longer feel like you dived off a cliff missing the water. Essek’s been a frequent visitor to the extend where he must be neglecting his responsibilities by how much time he’s spending with you.

Essek makes a surprisingly good nurse, making sure you’re always comfortable, getting you whatever you need or ask for and of course good company to fight the boredom from being confined to one space for days where night and day do not differ.

Then finally the day came along where your clerics had declared you fit enough to leave the confines of your room. Another few days and you were good to go back to your usual routines. While Essek was forced to return to his duties sooner rather than later he still tried to spend as much time with you as he could, sticking to your side like glue.

You had to reassure him many times but finally did get it through his thick skull this wasn’t his fault and he couldn’t have done anything about it. He may still blame himself partially but he’s not beating himself over it which is all you could ask for. Besides, you’re very persuasive when it comes to Essek so perhaps in time you could get him to see it the way you do.

[hookedonapirate]

Book Sneak Peek

A/N: For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been converting A Helping Hand to an original novel. After months of frustration from not knowing what to leave and what to take out because of the ridiculous length of this story, I’m finally close to being finished with it. It’s currently in the process of being edited and polished. This is a sneak peek of my new book. Unlike my first novel, this one is set in "The Big Apple” just like AHH. It features Harper and Audrey (Emma and Elsa in AHH) from Follow My Lead, and Derrick, Elisa and their daughter, Gracie, make an appearance at the end. 

I also wanted to let everyone know I will most likely be taking A Helping Hand down, even though I’ll be self-publishing. I know I said I wouldn’t, and actually I’m really sad about it, but after going through it, I realized it’s completely full of errors, misspellings and whatnot. Plus, I didn’t just change the names of characters and remove ouat elements; even though it’s the same story and the scenes pretty much follow the same sequence, apart from what I took out or added, I’ve made A LOT of changes to it, and I don't really want another version of my book out there. I encourage you to download A Helping Hand while you still can. But I will definitely let everyone know before that happens.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy another sneak peek!

I groan into the fluffy pillow my face is burrowed in. My head’s pounding, I feel like someone drilled a hole through my skull, my throat is dry and nausea lingers in my stomach. Slowly dragging my arm away from under my face, I open my eyes to a dim room, the curtains shielding any sunlight trying to burst through.

I take a minute to roll over, my eyes adjusting to the room as I lift my head slowly, taking in my surroundings. 

Nothing seems familiar. 

Granted, the guest room in my brother’s apartment is not very familiar either, but at least it reminds me of Brady. This room does not. It’s too pink and girly.

“Where the hell am I?” I grumble hoarsely.

I’m surrounded by pale pink walls and white furniture—a chair decorated with pink, frilly pillows, a bookcase lined with romance novels, a vanity and a nightstand with a pink, furry lamp. The curtains are made of white lace and there’s a large wall hanging that reads in large, cursive writing, Be your own kind of beautiful. 

My eyes scan the comforter, which is also pink, along with more frilly pillows.

This is definitely not my brother’s guestroom.

This is definitely a chick’s room.

My eyes widen in horror at the revelation.

This cannot be happening.

Gathering further evidence to solve the mystery as to how I ended up in some woman’s bed, I sharply lift the covers and peer underneath them, seeing that, yep, I’m bare-ass naked.

“Fuck.”

I let my head sink back into the pillow as I drag my hands over my face. I can’t believe my first night in New York, I hooked up with some random woman.

I went to the bar with those intentions in my dispirited condition, but I don’t recall picking up anyone. In fact, I have no recollection of last night beyond the bar. Which means I was way too smashed to hook up with anyone.

I need to leave. I’m not the type of guy to fuck someone and run off the next morning without at least buying her coffee or getting her phone number. To be honest, I’m not the type of guy who does one-night stands, but I’m in no shape to be involved in anything resembling a relationship. 

 Judging by the breakfast she’s making, this woman has other plans. The door is closed but I can hear dishes clanking around in the kitchen. And as I spot my clothes across the room, I doubt a woman expecting nothing more than a one-night stand would go to the trouble of picking up my clothes from the floor, folding them neatly and setting them in the chair. She certainly wouldn’t be making me breakfast.

I sit up slowly and place my feet on the floor, hoping this will stop the room from spinning around me. I drop my face in my hands and groan. I haven’t felt this hungover in years. I eventually stand up and grab the knitted blanket I’ve been sleeping on, securing it around my waist. I go to the window and pull back the curtain.

I’m on the third floor, judging by the number of windows beneath her unit. I remember little about the surroundings, but I do remember seeing the pancake house directly across the street and I remember thinking about how much I missed my mom’s chocolate chip pancakes. I also remember the bar I went to last night and seeing the barbershop next to it and thinking how badly I need a haircut. The names of the establishments are all the same. Which means only one thing. 

The woman I slept with last night lives in the same building and floor as my brother. 

Fuck.

I have a feeling this won’t end well. I let the curtain fall into place and turn around when I hear a gentle knock on the door.

Shit. 

I swallow thickly as the door opens. Panic flares inside me as I try to think up a way to get out of the pickle I’m in. I scramble toward the chair which holds my clothes.

“Owen, you awake?” 

I whirl around until I’m face to face with the most beautiful green eyes and golden hair I’ve ever seen in my life. I drag a hand through my disheveled hair, my eyes traveling down her body. She’s wearing a thin, pink bathrobe, exposing a pair of long, sexy legs that go on for days.

Legs I can definitely imagine wrapped around me.

Damn, I hit the jackpot last night. 

She’s beautiful, which is either a relief or extremely dangerous; I can’t decide which one.

She strides over to me, bearing a glass of water and a cheerful smile. I’m still stunned by how beautiful she is. “Morning, sunshine. Sleep well?” 

She’s teasing me and I like it.

How in the hell did I forget a night with a woman like her? I must’ve been out of it. “I have a splitting headache and the room is still spinning.” I press my fingertips against my temples, feeling them pounding underneath my touch, “Other than that, I’m perfect.”

“I can imagine,” she says with a giggle. 

Her giggle is the most delightful sound I’ve ever heard in my entire life, even with a splitting headache. 

“Here, I got you something that might help with that.” She offers me a glass of water and some aspirin.

“Thank you.” I graciously accept the aspirin and water, deciding this isn’t so bad. 

“What, no ‘thank you, beautiful’? Guess you’re really not feeling well,” she says playfully. 

Fuck. I even called her beautiful, which means I was laying on the charm pretty thick last night. I offer a frail smile, despite feeling terrible. Not only because of the alcohol. I feel terrible for getting her into bed while I was inebriated and miserable from my breakup. And she was probably drunk too, which makes me feel even worse. Although, she doesn’t appear to have a hangover. Maybe she’s one of those people who doesn’t get hangovers after they get drunk. If she is, she’s pretty lucky.

I swallow the pills, and as I wash them down with water, I know the right thing to do is tell her I’m not ready for a relationship or a woman in my life, but how can I? I don’t really want to see her smile dissipate, especially since she turned out to be so nice and sweet and beautiful.

I lower the glass and close my eyes briefly, the coolness of the liquid feeling quite soothing against my cracked lips and dry throat. Damn, if only I could remember exactly what I did to this woman with my mouth as my tongue slashes along my lips. If only I could remember what she did to me with that lush mouth of hers. A shiver skates down my spine. I try to shake the thoughts from my mind and try to speak but struggle to find the words. It’s difficult when this woman is staring at me with those intense green eyes. I desperately want to scoop her into my arms and kiss her senselessly, creating new memories of having her in bed, but I know that would only end very badly. Even more so than it’s already going to. The last thing I want to do is lead her on.

Somehow, I manage to refrain from kissing her. “Listen...I don’t remember much about last night and you’re…” My hand makes a grand, sweeping gesture down her form, “drop-dead gorgeous...and I’m sure last night was incredible...but my girlfriend just dumped me and my head’s a mess right now, so, I...” she eyeballs me in confusion as I will myself to continue, “I think we should just be friends.” At the same time, I reason with myself that we’ve already done God knows what, so there’s no harm in a quick kiss on the cheek, right? Besides, I may not be ready for a relationship, but I’m still a gentleman.

I step into her space and casually lean in to kiss her cheek. She smells like strawberries and cream and I can hear her breath hitch as my lips brush along her skin.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” She places her hands on my chest to push me away.

I quickly pull back to give her space, apologies leaving my lips. “Sorry, I just figured since we had sex—”

Her eyes practically pop out of her head. “Wait, you think we had sex?!” 

Well, duh. I shrug. Why else would I have slept naked in her bed and why else wouldn’t she be fazed by my nakedness underneath the blanket? “Didn’t we?”

She dissolves into laughter, to my complete and utter humiliation. “Oh no, no, no, no! We did not have sex.”

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@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @artistic-writer@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @sophiaaz @becausetheyrehappythisway @thislassishooked @hookedmom @resident-of-storybrooke @kateroselin @kday426 @sals86 @lawgeeks @yasbio2015 @xsajx @delightfully-difficult-pirate @snowbellewells @wanderingjpg @squidvisious @tenaciouskittynight @biefaless @animatedshorts @lassluna @melsbels @meat-pie-with-sauce @roseyflush @tiganasummertree @nowforruin @qualitycoffeethings @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove @theonewiththeory @lostinwonderland314 @darkcolinodonorgasm @carpedzem @maguilar1028 @mayquita @courtorderedcake @shady-swan-jones @timeless-love-story @laschatzi @officerrogers @spartanguard @andiirivera @ouatpost @jarienn972 @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree​

[f00pyf00p]

Between The Pages

Rating: General Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: Class Differences, Bullying, Long-Distance Relationship Word count: 11098  Summary: The day he was born, with the very first flicker of life, a notebook nearly fell on Logan’s head. It would have smacked him full in the face had their Doctor and neighbor not been waiting for it, one hand balancing the baby and the other situated right above the new human’s nose, waiting. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 4: AU @analogicalweek

Read on AO3

The day he was born, with the very first flicker of life, a notebook nearly fell on Logan’s head. It would have smacked him full in the face had their Doctor and neighbor not been waiting for it, one hand balancing the baby and the other situated right above the new human’s nose, waiting.

The notebook was spiral, as all notebooks were. It was white and the two cardboard covers held not a single page between them.

“His soulmate isn't born yet, then,” said their neighbor/doctor, Ryan Becker. She placed the lifeless notebook off to the side and shifted the baby so she was holding him with both hands. “Now, I’m just going to go and clean him up a little. Phil, can you help your wife while I’m gone?”

Logan’s father, Phillip Berry, nodded immediately. He grabbed some of the towels they had set up beforehand and the last thing Ryan saw before heading out of the room was the beginnings of a smile on the new mother’s face.

It took a long time for the family to get fully situated, but once they had, Ryan left their home with an exhausted wave and made her way back across the street where her soulmate waited. The kitchen and living room lights were off when she entered; he was probably upstairs with that old computer he had found, attempting to make the damned thing turn on when they both knew that the thing had been dead long before he picked it up.

Whatever. He could play with it all he wanted- right now, all Ryan could think of was a long hot shower.

On her way to the bathroom, she passed the one shelf in her home, where two spiral notebooks sat. They had not been touched in a very long time but Ryan wouldn’t have gotten rid of them even if she could.

Slowly, she reached out and pulled the yellow one off the shelf.

When she had been born, her notebook had also fallen white and empty. It had remained that way until (according to her parents) a year later on August 14th when it had suddenly filled with pages and the cover had turned a stunning bright yellow.

According to Marcus’s parents, his notebook had fallen a deep dark red, pages already filled. After all, she had already existed.

Ryan examined her notebook for a second longer before putting it back and heading towards her bathroom.

__

The new Casey boy came out of his mother into the doctor’s hand squirming and already screaming like his life depended on it. Doctor James Miller had to struggle to keep the baby situated as he held his hand above its little head, waiting.

A dark blue book full of pages landed right into his palm. Thomas Casey, the father of the boy, smiled at the sight of it.

“Just born and already has his soulmate! Look at that!”

Doctor Miller gave the man one of his practiced smiles and held the notebook out to him. Instantly, the dad began flipping through the pages, and James just managed to not roll his eyes before he turned away to properly clean the new baby.

There was no point in looking at the notebook. Even if there had been something in it, only two people could see what was in it: the baby he was holding and the baby’s soulmate.

Whatever. James was used to parents excitedly looking through their children’s notebooks. At this point, he shouldn’t have been surprised by it.

He came back with the baby nicely bundled in green blankets and gave another practiced smile as he passed the boy off to his mother. She smiled down at him and glanced back over at her husband.

“Have you chosen a name?” James asked kindly.

“Virgil,” Bella replied. She ran a hand over his little face. “Virgil Casey.”

James made a mental note for the birth certificate.

Miles and miles away, next to napping a month and half old baby boy, a dead white notebook with no pages in between began to fill. Plum purple bloomed across the cardboard cover and clean white pages shot into existence until it was full enough to use but not so heavy that a toddler couldn’t carry it. Logan Berry rolled over and one tiny hand landed flat on the now purple cover.

He carried on sleeping.

__

“HI! It iS me.”

Logan’s slightly shaking hand held his favorite pencil- a blue one covered in book titles. Logan had chosen it out of his love of books and even though couldn’t able to read very many yet, those he could get through he barely ever put down. Once he got good enough, Logan planned to read every book title on the pencil, even the ones his mom said were “really long.”

“HelO!” The reply came in red crayon and was nearly twice as large but much neater than Logan’s writing. Logan beamed at the very sight of it.

“WhaT is you dOing.” The red came again, slightly smaller this time. Logan traced the large “O” with his fingers before re-scooping up his pencil and pressing it to the page.

He paused.

“Re,” he sounded out, writing the letters as he did so. “Sss-” He scribbled an s after it. “Ess. Resess.” He smiled at himself for sounding out the words properly and waited for his notebook friend’s response.

“YOu hav resess in the morning?”

Logan blinked. “It iS not mor-” Logan paused and double-checked how his notebook partner had spelled it. “-ning. It iS going to be lanch tim.”

“NO. It is morning.”

Logan really wasn’t quite what to do. His partner was obviously wrong; at the moment, Logan sat outside in the grass outside next to a plastic play structure his schoolmates were screaming across. The sun beat down on them at a chilly 60°F, which he was currently combating with a sweatshirt and long pants. They had already gone over math (which Logan had enjoyed) and geography (which he had enjoyed less). After lunch, they would be able to do his favorite part of the day (reading!), they would do some writing, and then it would be time to go home.

“Mrs. Williams!” Logan pushed from the grass and took off for a run towards his kindergarten teacher. The notebook swung from his arms as he did so and Mrs. Williams turned to him with a sort of half-smile on her face.

“Yes, Logan?”

“Mrs. Williams, my notebook buddy is saying it's morning a lot, but it's not morning. Why is he saying that?”

Mrs. Williams licked her lips and glanced around the playground. “Follow me, sweetie, okay?”

Logan nodded eagerly. He opened his book to write, “1 min” and then trotted after Mrs. Williams. She had grabbed two random slightly deflated balls, one large rubber and supposedly bouncy, and the other a small green tennis ball.

“Okay, Logan. You like space, right?”

Logan nodded eagerly.

“The earth is round, okay.” At Logan’s nod, she held up the larger ball. “Can you pretend this is the earth for me?”

Logan stared at it for a second and then nodded again.

“Okay, that big ball is the earth. And this ball-” she held up the green one- “is the sun. When it's nighttime and you go to sleep, where is the sun?”

“It’s gone,” Logan informed her. “We don’t see it.”

“That's right! Good job! And when it's daytime where is the sun?”

Logan pointed at the sky. “There.”

Mrs. Williams nodded. “Can you hold the sun for me?” She passed him the green ball and positioned his hand up so it was next to the side of the earth. “Now I’m going to put my finger here.” She placed it on a random spot of the ball. “And you’re going to tell me if my finger is daytime or nighttime.”

Slowly, Mrs. Williams began to spin the ball. She stopped with her finger on the opposite side of the sun. “Day or night Logan?”

“I…”

“Can I see the sun?”

“No!” Logan grinned. “It’s nighttime!”

“Well done! You little genius! Now, if I keep spinning the earth…” Mrs. Williams spun it around so her finger faced the sun. “Daytime or nighttime?”

“Day!”

“Yes!” But what if I move my finger?” Mrs. Williams left the ball still and picked her finger up so it was on the back of the ball, away from the sun. “Am I nighttime or daytime?”

“Nighttime.”

“Good job, Logan. Now, what if…” Mrs. Williams shifted so that her thumb pressed into the area toward the sun and her other hand faced away. “What now?”

“Ummm… that one-” Logan reached out to touch her thumb- “is in the daytime and the other is in the nighttime.”

“Right. Now let’s give my fingers names. Let’s say my thumb’s name is Logan.”

“That’s my name.”

“You’re right it is. Let’s say my other finger’s name is notebook buddy.”

A lightbulb went off in Logan’s head. “He’s in a different sun area!”

Mrs. Williams looked very pleased. “That’s right Logan. So it's lunchtime for you, but morning for him.”

Logan grinned before taking off at a run back for his grassy spot to explain everything to his soulmate.

__

“I want to SAY my nam.”

Virgil glanced down at his blue notebook and shook his head at his soulmate. After a click glance to make sure his teacher wasn’t looking (he was supposed to be doing his math practice) he wrote back: “It WOnt wORK.”

“But I want it to.”

“It WOn’t.”

“I’m gonna try.”

Despite his adamant belief that it would fail, Virgil still bent over his paper excitedly. Maybe…

“--------”

Nope.

“See. Nams dON’T wORk.”

“Virgil!” Virgil jumped and shoved his notebook away. “How’s your math going, kiddo?”

Mr. Ravin stood in front of him. He glanced over at the open notebook and the blank math sheet and pursed his lips.

“You need to learn math right now, okay Virgil? You can write your soulmate during playtime.”

Virgil crossed his arms over his chest. “But I want to now! He’ll go away during playtime!”

“Why not?”

“He’s in a different sun area!”

Mr. Ravin blinked. He glanced over at the notebook, back at Virgil, and at the notebook again, trying to figure out exactly what Virgil was telling him.

Suddenly, his expression brightened.

“He’s in a different time zone?”

Virgil didn’t really know what a time zone was but he nodded anyway.

“Okay. I’ll give you five minutes with your soulmate.” Mr. Ravin held up his hand and Virgil mirrored the motion. “But then you have to do the math, okay?”

“Okay!”

Virgil grasped his note with two little hands and pulled it back to him. He re-grabbed the pencil he had been using and looked over what his soulmate had written while Mr. Ravin held his attention.

“I am --- yeers. I like bookS. I live in -------.”

“It is not showing,” Virgil wrote. “i like books two.”

His soulmate went quiet.

It was annoying, Virgil thought to himself. Sometimes, it got difficult to talk about his soulmate when he wasn’t able to give his soulmate a name. And his soulmate was his best friend! He needed to be able to talk to his best friend.

“We could do fak nams,” Virgil wrote. “That waay, we hav nams but not reel nams.”

“Like sooperheros!” The exclamation mark brought a smile onto Virgil’s face and he nearly clapped his hands excitedly but he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. “What is yor nam?”

Virgil paused before putting his pencil to the paper. His fake name had to be perfect. It was going to be what his best friend called him forever and forever meant a really really long time. It needed to be about him and it needed to make sense.

“Purple,” Virgil wrote. “I like purple. My nam is Purple.”

“OK.” His partners' smaller and nearly illegible handwriting appeared beneath his own. “My nam is Logic. A sooperhero I like in my book is Logic so I’m going to be Logic to.”

“Okay Lo-” Virgil doubled-check how it was spelled. “-gic. Want tO play tic-tac-tOE?”

Virgil had only just managed to write the sentences when Mr. Ravin walked back over and leaned over him. “Alright, Virgil,” he said kindly. “Time for math now.”

“Five more minutes?” Virgil glanced down at the paper, where his Logic had drawn a tic-tac-toe board and placed a circle in the middle of it. He held his notebook out for Mr. Ravin to see. “Look, we just want to finish the game!”

Mr. Ravin gently pushed the notebook back onto Virgil’s kindergartner-sized desk. “I can’t see what’s on the pages, kiddo,” he said gently. “Only you and your soulmate can.”

“Logic,” Virgil interrupted.

Mr. Ravin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“His name is Logic.”

__

“We’re learning about frogs in my school.” Virgil’s legs swung back and forth underneath him, moving the swing he sat on ever so slightly, as he read what Logic had just sent to him in handwriting that practically grew messier every day. “We’ve been put into a lot of groups and now we have to find facts about a kind of frog.”

“Cool.” Virgil paused before writing; “What’s your frog?”

“I got a really boring one. I already knew everything about it so I didn’t have to do any research at all.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and a smile splayed on his 8-year-old face. Only Logic would be upset by a lack of work in his class. And he added cheerfully to himself, only Logic would have already known enough about a frog to not have to do any homework.

“What was it?”

“It’s a glass frog. They’re green.”

“Aren’t all frogs green?” Stupid question.

“No, a lot of frogs are all different colors. Poison dart frogs, for example, are really colorful.”

The smile grew. Logic was the only person Virgil knew to not care how dumb or how often somebody asked a question. He was always there, always with an answer, always ready to help.

“What frog did you want to do?”

Logic handwriting was a lot faster than normal: still legible but it was loopier and the letters connected more.

“The Macaya Breast-spot Frog! They’re endangered, and orange and they’re so much cooler than the stupid glass frog.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know about them! Obviously!”

Virgil flipped off the swing, bored of the repeated motion, and sat criss-cross underneath it, letting his notebook fall onto his lap. His pencil hit it the moment he was situated.

“At my school,” he wrote in large gray letters, “we’re going over frogs too, but they’re giving everyone a tadpole to look after.”

“That’s so cool! What kind of frog!?”

Ummm…

“Black frog?”

“That’s not a kind of frog.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it is” Logic crossed out what he had written in one smooth motion. “No it is You know it's not a real frog.”

Virgil grinned. “Yeah.”

“You are the worst best friend I have.”

Virgil blinked. “But I’m your only best friend.” He didn’t add the “right?” that hastened his breath and made his hands tremble ever so slightly.

“Obviously.”

The trembling vanished, replaced with the smile for before. “You’re being meannnnnnn.”

“The extra “nnns” are dumb.”

“You’re dumb.”

“I am not!”

“Your mum.”

“You” Logic crossed out his word again. “You You’re the one being mean. Meanie.”

Virgil drew a smiley face underneath his sentence. His own grin grew when in response, Logic crossed it out and drew a sad face next to it.

He was about to say something- about what, Virgil wasn’t quite sure- when a loud female voice broke through the little spell he had with Logic.

“Recess is over,” he wrote glumly. “I’ll write you later.”

“Oh.” Even in writing, the word sounded sad. “I forgot you were still in school.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye Purple.”

“Bye L.”

__

Logan was supposed to be asleep. His parents had put him to bed at 8:00, and his alarm clock currently read 11:12, but it wasn’t his fault this book was so interesting! Stopping now would be a sin against… Logan paused. Were there any book gods? He’d have to look it up…

The yawn that came out of him practically shook his whole body and at the end of it, Logan sternly told himself that he had about 100 more pages to go, and he had to hold out that long. Last time, he had fallen asleep on the book.

That had been annoying.

A bang in the kitchen had Logan’s head flying up. Probably just his mom looking for water, or his dad getting a late-night snack. He went to turn back to his book when his eyes snagged on the open notebook on his bedroom floor.

And more importantly, at the letters appearing across it.

Suddenly very much awake, Logan carefully bookmarked his page, pushed from his covers, and scooped the book up to get a look at whatever Purple was sending him.

“My parents are making me go to sleep at 7:30 but I’m not tireddddd. I want to do something! So I decided to draw you a picture because you’re asleep so I can let you see in the morning when it’s good and not bad.”

What followed were several drawings, all of which had been scribbled out with such ferocity it was a wonder Logan’s page hadn’t been ripped as well. Either way, there was nothing left of what remained under the scribble.

There was a loss that came with that.

“They were all terrible, you wouldn’t have liked them,” Purple had written. “I’ve decided I’m not leaving a drawing for you. Goodnight.”

Then, underneath that.

“I can’t fall asleep.”

And under that-

“We’re never going to find each other.”

Logan’s breath hitched.

“We can’t tell each other anything! Look! My name is --------. I am ---- years old. I live in --------. I am he/him. Well, the last one worked but you know what I mean! We could pass each other and we’d never know it! I’ll never see you. I’ll never play games with you. I want to play Percy Jackson with you.”

A strong yearning entered Logan’s heart and he traced the letters on the page.

“I could be Percy. You can be like, a male version of Annabeth. And then we fight monsters!”

Logan’s fingers twitched.

“But no! Because you live super far away and I’ll never get to see you ever. I can’t even draw my face for you!”

What followed was a black square, different from the scribbles from earlier. It was too precise, too dark to have been done by Purple.

“How will I ever-” Logan had finally caught up to where Purple was now- “find you?”

He paused for a moment. There had to be a way, some kind of signal, or something they could wear-

Wait.

“What if-” In the middle of his writing a sentence, a much shorter one appeared underneath it.

“You’re here!?”

Logan paused in his sentence to write a tiny “yes” before jumping back up to finish his old one.

“What if you drew a sign for us to put on our clothes? That way we can see each other wearing it and know it's us?”

“What?”

“Just draw a pin for us to wear.”

There was a pause, probably as Purple thought it over, then, in big neat letters, “Why are you so much smarter than me?”

“You’re really smart,” Logan protested.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yes and.”

“You can’t “and” me.”

That sparked a quiet shining in Logan’s eyes. “Yes, and I think you should draw the symbols.”

“You’re not clever.” There was a short pause. “I can’t draw them while you watch. It makes me nervous.”

Logan understood that. He didn’t like people reading over his shoulder. It was probably the same thing.

“Okay.” He wrote. “I’ll go back to my book.”

“What time is it there?”

The minute changed as Logan looked. “11:31.”

“GO.” The word filled a third of what was left on the page. “TO. SLEEP.”

“It’s only like 100 pages.”

“SLEEP!”

“Fine!” Logan frowned at the page. “You need to sleep too then.”

“It’s only 8:31 here.”

His frown deepened.

“Good night, Logic.”

A heavy heavy sigh came out of Logan. He glanced towards his bookmarked book and silently promised that it would be finished before lunch tomorrow.

“Good night, Purple.” His pencil hovered over the page. “I’ll see our symbols in the morning.”

The notebook cover shut and Logan slid back into his bed. He had only closed his eyes for 30 seconds before the eight-year-old was fully asleep.

The next morning, Logan awoke and dashed to his notebook. He opened it, heart fluttering in his throat, and smiled at the symbols Purple had chosen for them.

A purple stormcloud and a little white brain with black glasses. The stormcloud was marked “PURPLE” in shiny and the brain was marked “LOGIC.”

Logan immediately went to find a piece of paper, a window, and a safety pin so he could copy Purple’s work line for line and display it on his chest.

__

Logan had been wearing a piece of paper pinned to his shirt for four years. The paper had switched out; the first one he had dutifully copied back when he was only in 3rd grade had taken less than a month to fall apart. However, the design of it remained the same. Every time a new piece of paper tore, got wet, streaked, whatever, Logan flipped back to the page Purple had first drawn his symbol, pressed it up against a window, and copied it line for line again.

Despite the symbol, they still hadn’t found each other.

“My mom’s being a bitch.” Purple’s handwriting was still larger than Logan’s own, but smooth and precise. He was the kind of person you would have write everything down during group projects so it looked pretty when you presented. “I’m trying to go to see a movie with Puppy but noooooo, I have a C in fucking math so she grounded me.”

Logan smiled at the letters, even as his heart ached. Purple had written to him about Puppy countless times before; he had been described as a bubbly older brother figure, thus, why he had been given that nickname. Someone who loved gardening and still slept with a nightlight. The two of them were close, though Purple promised Logan was still his best friend.

Logan wished more than anything to be able to go see movies with Purple. Touching him, even seeing him would be a blessing.

He didn’t know it was possible to miss someone you had never truly met as much as he missed Purple.

“I could help you with math,” he wrote back. His handwriting was legible- and that was about the best thing he could say about it. “I study it in my free time so I’m sure I know something about what you’re going over.”

“You’re such a nerd,” came the fond reply. There was a beat of silence, which Logan used to check the clock sitting upon his desk.

3:32 pm. That meant it was around 12:32 where Purple was. They still had plenty of time before he would be back in class.

“I could use your help with math though.” Purple’s letters came fluidly after his last sentence. “Not right now. This is school break time.” Logan smiled wryly at that. “Are you busy at 4:00? Oh um, 7:00 for you.”

Technically no. His school had gotten a donation of recorders and he was supposed to be practicing it every night and Logan had already put it off four nights in a row.

But he could do that later.

“I’m free,” Logan replied. “We can do it then.”

“Great. I don’t understand these word problems we’re supposed to be doing and Puppy is really excited about this Rom-Com.” There was a pause. “I am not, but I’m not going to disappoint Puppy by not being allowed to go.”

“I don’t think I quite get Rom-Coms,” Logan wrote. He paused to shake his hand and then instantly put the pencil back to paper. “They’re incredibly unrealistic, remarkably cringy, and oftentimes the main pairing doesn’t even make sense together.”

“Lol.”

Logan wondered for a brief moment what exactly Purple’s laugh sounded like. At the moment, he imagined it was deep, with a sort of snarky edge to it, but he had imagined it all sorts of different ways throughout the years. None of them had ever sounded quite right.

“I don’t like them much either. Straight propaganda.”

He couldn’t help but snort at that. Both he and Purple had learned they were gay a little while back when he had brought up how often the pair of them discuss hot male celebrities.

“I’m sure that’s normal,” Purple had written. “Right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

And then later.

“I asked my Dad. It’s not normal.”

“Oh.” Logan hadn’t been sure how to respond to that. His blood had just been thrumming with the very idea of trusting anyone about something like that. “So… does that mean we’re gay?”

“Do you like girls? Like, in that way”

“No.”

“Then yea, probably.”

Logan still hadn’t told anyone about his and Purple’s discovery. He couldn’t imagine anyone taking it well in his town. It still shocked him sometimes that in Purple’s neighborhood, you could be out without facing rather disastrous consequences.

“I’m sure Rom-Coms aren’t trying to turn you straight.”

“That’s what they want you to think. Don’t fall for it Logic. Their smiles are nothing but lies.”

Logan snorted quietly, a sound he only ever made when talking- well, writing technically- with his soulmate. “If they’re going to try and brainwash me like that, they might consider actually making a good movie.”

“Damn, L. Out here bringing the heat.”

His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t think you can feel warmth through the notebook.”

“No… Logic, it’s not literal. It’s a saying.”

“Oh.” Heat burned in his cheeks. “Of course.” He licked his lips. “And, let’s just say, hypothetically, if someone still didn’t understand what you were trying to say-”

Purple’s answer appeared beneath him before he had fully finished. “You’re doing a good job insulting boring Rom-Coms.”

“Yes. Of course. Naturally.” Logan brushed a hand through his hair. “They aren’t interesting.”

Purple made a little checkmark next to his statement.

“Oh!” Purple’s writing came hastily under Logan’s last sentence. “I almost forgot to tell you! I read that book you like.”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me how sad it was!?”

“Because you said you would kill me if I spoiled anything?”

“Not an excuse!”

Logan smiled at the declaration. Between Shades of Grey had been such a good historical fiction book that he had just had to share it with someone- and since all his at-home friends didn’t like historical fiction as much as he did, Purple had been an obvious choice.

“I didn’t know Stalin had camps!”

“Yeah.” Logan’s stomach twisted at the thought. “It’s horrible.”

“I wish humanity didn’t suck so much. Sometimes, I think a nuclear war would be good just to get rid of everyone here.”

Logan shook his head. “I wouldn’t want it to get rid of you.”

Purple didn’t reply for a good minute. When he finally did answer, the letters made Logan’s heart flutter rather pathetically.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want you to get hurt either.” __

Virgil couldn’t hide the smile off his face, the skipping in his heart, nor the glow coming off of him in unnatural and rare waves. All of his joy came from the Christmas present his parents had just given him; a necklace, a bracelet, a pin, and a ring, all bearing the exact same mark- namely a purple stormcloud that he had first drawn back in 3rd grade.

It was 9 am in California, which meant it would be noon wherever Logic was living, but Logic had told him that family obligations would keep him from being around his notebook for longer than a few minutes at a time today.

Right now though, that served in Virgil’s favor. He hated it when people watched him draw- even when it was someone he trusted as much as Logic.

“Hey, Logic.” Virgil started a new page, leaving about a third empty under the last one. For a moment, he wondered whether that was the right thing to do- but it's not like they would ever run out of pages. The notebook just kept growing, despite not increasing in weight. “I got big news!”

He glanced over at the last thing Logic had written- Make sure you sleep well too, Purple- and his reply- Yeah yeah yeah. Good night, Logic!”

He wondered how long it would be until he could say good night to his soulmate in person.

“I know you told me that you wouldn’t be able to get to the notebook today.” Virgil paused and bit his lip. “I hope I’m not bothering you by writing now but-” He crossed the word out in one elegant line, followed by repeated scribbling until not even the essence of the letter was visible. “Sorry if I am.”

Logic probably wouldn’t be upset. Probably.

Virgil pushed down the wave of panic that told him Logic would see that he had written and never open the notebook again. Maybe he shouldn’t-

No. Things would be fine. He was being stupid.

“My parents got me jewelry with my stormcloud on it!” Virgil's initial happiness came rushing back, though slightly dulled. “I’ve got a bracelet, a pin, a necklace, a ring- here, I’ll show you.”

Virgil brought his pencil to the page. He studied the bracelet given to him- the smooth shining silver metal and the small but noticeable purple cloud that hung from it, followed by a jagged white lightning bolt.

Beside it, he drew the necklace, the small rings that made up a delicate metal chain, and the large pendant that hung from the bottom, identical to the one on his bracelet.

Then the pin, and finally the ring, which for some reason took him a lot longer than the other ones. At the end of it all, Virgil smiled at his designs and went for the lines underneath them.

“Now it’ll be even easier to find me. We won’t have to worry about paper ripping and losing it for a day or whatever else.”

He wanted to write the words “We’ll find each other” but found no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite make his pencil hit the page. It was a wish and a promise Virgil repeated to himself, one he wanted more than anything in the world, one he would do almost anything for, but one he couldn’t quite convince himself was true.

They both lived in America. That much was true. But according to time zones, Logic lived on the other side of the whole country. Even if Virgil traveled over there, he wouldn’t know which state, let alone which city-

Breath came too fast. He placed the notebook off to the side and suddenly the gifts that had been a solidifier of their symbols and ability to find each other were nothing more than a taunt.

Logic was out of his reach. Forever.

Virgil snatched the notebook up- to do what he wasn’t sure- and found a tiny barely readable letter had appeared under his note. He blinked at it.

Wasn’t Logic supposed to be busy today?

“Those look great!” Logic’s words eased some of the darkness numbing Virgil’s mind. He reached out with a single shaking hand and traced the letters. “You’re an amazing artist, Purple.”

Virgil swallowed.

“Thanks.”

They had to flip the page to keep communicating.

“Those will make it much easier to find you,” Logic wrote. Each letter cleared more of his panic and Virgil managed a tiny smile. “I can’t do the same though.”

Virgil blinked and all of that cleared panic came back full force.

Before he could properly hold his pencil, Logic had continued.

“I would like to, but I don’t think we have enough money to spare on one of those. I’ll keep wearing the paper, of course.” Logic’s letters paused but before Virgil had managed to clear his head long enough to even manage a sentence, it continued. “Yours look beautiful.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-

“I didn’t mean for you to think you had to get any.” It was the messiest Virgil’s handwriting had been in a very long time. “I’ll spot you with the paper, I just thought-” What had he been thinking? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t really remember anything but the fact that he had somehow managed to make Logic upset-

“Purple.” Logic’s letters were crisper than normal: firm. “I think the idea of wearing jewelry is amazing. If it makes one of us easier to spot then we’re closer to being together. I can’t afford them, but that’s okay. Okay?”

Virgil took a breath.

“Okay.”

Logic was right. Like normal. Logic would have an easier time looking for a guy wearing a bunch of stormclouds rather than one white one drawn on his chest.

And he…

“I promise to be on the lookout for a piece of paper,” Virgil wrote. “You don’t need all the jewelry.”

It was to make things easier. But it wasn’t truly necessary.

Right?

Right.

“I’ve got to go. Our neighbor ------- is-” The writing paused. “I forgot other people’s names don’t work. Anyway, I have to go.”

“Okay.” Virgil took a long breath. “I’ll write to you soon.”

“Bye Purple. Oh, and don’t worry about writing to me when I say I won’t be able to come. I enjoy reading everything you say after.”

Virgil's heart missed a beat and that warm smile from before returned.

__

Logan had spent the entirety of Valentine’s day avoiding people handing out presents, chocolates, teddy bears, and whatever other atrocity they wanted to give their beloved. Not because he thought the holiday was stupid- although, he did actively think that- but because of the slight churning in his gut whenever he spotted a happy couple.

Along with that question. That stupid, horrible question that he had been asking himself for almost a year now.

His hand tightened around his notebook.

Would it hurt more to confess and be rejected, or confess and still be unable to see him?

Until he figured that out, Logan really didn’t think there was any point in confessing.

He turned down the hallway his class was in, ducked a ball of paper thrown at his head, and strode into the room. After double-checking that his desk and chair hadn’t been messed with, Logan took his seat, pulled out a binder held together with scotch tape and a lot of luck, and placed it on the creaky cracked desk in front of him.

Right. He had five minutes.

Logan did what he always did with extra time; he cracked open his purple notebook and glanced over the pages they had written in last.

His lips curved upwards.

Purple had added a few drawings since they last talked. Random sketches of tree leaves, a new ring he had been excited to buy, Noam and Dara from the heartbreaking series Feverwake Logan had made him read, and Gerald Way, one of Purple’s favorite artists.

Logan made little compliments underneath each of them- “Great job shading the leaf, it looks so real, the ring is gorgeous, etc- and was about to add something about scheduling a time to talk during the afternoon/night, when the book was snatched out of his hands.

Logan grimaced. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Jason that stood in front of him, a cocky grin on his face and Logan’s purple notebook open in his palms.

“Give it back.”

Jason’s stupid grin widened. Logan just rolled his eyes.

“We both know I could have it in a second. Just hand it over.”

“What were you writing?” Jason’s voice was sing-songy, taunting. He flipped through the pages- pages he could see nothing but lines on- before snapping the notebook closed and holding it above his head.

With a loud sigh, Logan snapped his fingers twice. It was a bit odd, the way he did so. Most people used their index finger or middle. He used his pinky.

By the time his fingers had hit his palm a second time, the notebook had completely dislodged itself from Jason’s hand and landed squarely into Logan’s outstretched left one.

Without saying anything to the idiot in front of him, Logan turned back to his notebook, opened it up to the right page, and scribbled down a time they could meet. It was during his shift at the grocery store, but late enough that not many people would be in so he could easily write with Purple.

“I need to talk to you,” Jason interrupted.

“No, I’m not doing your homework for you.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Okay, what about-”

“I’m not writing an essay for you either.”

There was a short silence, which Logan used to turn back to his notebook and add that Purple should feel no obligation to hang out especially if he…

Logan swallowed.

… had other Valentine’s Day plans.

“If you do it, I could hook you up with my friend Erica. She’s good-looking. Breasts are a bit small, but-”

It took all of his efforts not to groan aloud.

“Go away, Jason. And don’t talk about your friends like that.”

“Ah, she’s a girl. She doesn’t mind.”

“Have you asked her?”

Logan glanced up to see Jason rolling his eyes. He glanced towards the door.

Where the hell was Mr. Myers?

“Look man, I’m just struggling with this one essay. I just need you to-”

“I told you no, Jason.”

Jason’s face twisted into a scowl. “Stop being such a damn teacher’s pet. It’s one damn essay.”

“No.”

Logan wondered if it were too early for Purple to be up. It was 9:11 here, meaning it would only be 6:11 there…

Yeah. It was much too early. Purple woke up at 7:20 to get to school at 7:30. He had at least an hour before he would see this.

“But-”

“Jason.” Mr. Myers' voice boomed through the classroom and Logan snapped his soulmate’s notebook shut and pushed himself up straight. “Take your seat.”

Purple got back to him at lunchtime. Logan sat out in the deteriorating and slightly musty hallway, bread, and cheese sandwich sitting on a cardboard platter beside him and his notebook resting on his knees. It just so happened that his lunchtime (12:10-12:30) was at the beginning of Purple’s study hall (9:00-9:40), so it had become normal for the pair of them to talk until Logan had to head back to class.

They basically confirmed they would have that conversation later, which made Logan feel better for more reasons than one, before Purple asked Logan about his day, giving Logan a very easy outlet to bitch about the whole fiasco with Jason.

“Again!?” Purple handwriting was larger and darker than normal. “I’m going to kill him!”

“It’s really no trouble.” Honestly, Logan didn’t mind it occurring, especially since it gave him moments like this when Purple would get all angry on his behalf. There weren’t many people who did that. “Gollum-” the name they had given Jason so they could talk about him without stupid lines appearing- “won’t push it any farther.”

“The last time you said that about someone, they shoved you into a wall, broke your glasses, and stole your homework for themselves.”

Almost subconsciously, a hand came up to touch the black scotch-taped frames. The glass hadn’t been cracked in any way that impaired him, but he had been forced to pull an all-nighter to rewrite that essay differently so he wouldn’t get an F for cheating.

It had been remarkably stressful, especially since his head hadn’t stopped pounding for weeks after.

“Yeah. Gollum won’t do that though.”

“He better not. I’ll fucking kill him.”

Despite the threat of violence, Logan couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t even know his real name.”

“Doesn’t matter. I will track this prick down. Nobody hurts you.”

Logan pretended his heart had skipped a beat because of the piece of sandwich he had eaten and not due to the crisp and clear words that appeared across his page. He swallowed once, to clear his throat. And then again, to calm the butterflies in his heart. Plus a third time for luck, before putting his pencil to the page.

“I feel you’re being slightly dramatic. Gollum hasn’t even done anything yet.”

Purple drew two quick little bubble people underneath his sentence one of which was actively punching another. Underneath one, he drew a storm cloud, one that Logan had completely memorized. Under the other, he wrote the word “loser.”

Logan snorted and took another bite of his cheese sandwich. He glanced at his phone.

“I’ve got a minute.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “Well, I’ll see you at 4:30.” Another pause. “I have something I want to tell you. Puppy says that I should do it today.”

Logan blinked. “Okay. If you don’t mind me asking, why today?”

A third pause.

“It fits with the theme, I guess.”

The theme.

Logan could barely hold his pencil he was trembling so hard. “Okay. Yeah, I’m happy to hear what you have to tell me.”

Please…

“Cool,” Purple wrote. “I’ll write with you then.”

__

Virgil was going to throw up.

Patton had told him “It’s Valentine’s Day! It’s romantic to confess your feelings today!” but Patton had also told him that chicken was a vegetable so Virgil honestly didn’t know why he was taking his advice.

He glanced down at his phone.

4:25.

Which meant he would have five minutes until he would be telling Logic how he felt.

And that was fine.

Fine.

Absolutely fine.

The worst thing that could happen would be Logic laughing, shutting the notebook, ripping off his brain piece of paper, and never talking to him again.

But that wouldn’t happen.

Right?

Urgggggg.

4:27.

How had two minutes passed without him even noticing!?

Virgil got to his feet, holding his notebook closed in his left hand while his right clung to the black pen he had found in the school hallway. He paced up and down his bedroom floor.

4:28.

What was he going to say?

Virgil wasn’t sure. He had flirted and kissed before, but they had all meant nothing, all been distractions from the real yearning for a boy he couldn’t meet.

And they had all been in. Fucking. Person. Virgil was good at the in-person shit. He knew how to place friendly touches, how to grab someone by the hand.

He did not know words.

He glanced back down at his phone.

4:32.

Shit!

Virgil hastily ripped his notebook open, flipped to the last page they had written on, and found Logic’s adorably messy writing already sprawled across it.

Great. Just great. Now they were starting this off late and terribly and Virgil really was going to throw up.

“Hi.” Logic had written in that green pen he always used when he was at his job. “It’s a little busier tonight than normal, so I might randomly disappear a couple of times, but it’s still light enough to talk.”

Virgil had barely finished reading them before he scribbled out in probably the messiest he had ever written since middle school; “That’s cool. Sorry, I’m late. I was-” nervous. Virgil scribbled out the I was. “I was I lost track of time.”

“It’s not an issue.” Logic’s response came instantly. “How was your day?”

Terrible. Virgil had barely been able to eat with the thought of being rejected plaguing him and focusing on school after his study block had been a complete no-go. Even drawing hadn’t come easy and drawing was his go-to way of centering himself.

“I wasn’t able to concentrate very well,” Virgil wrote. “And I think Mrs. Sullivan hates me now. She asked me a question and I didn’t know the answer so we just sat in silence for like a minute before she picked someone else.”

“What was the question?”

“How to find the area of a cylinder.”

“Do you-” A thick green line struck through the words. “Do you That sounds awful.”

Virgil’s lips curved up. “Were you going to ask me if I wanted the answer?”

“Yeah.” Even through paper, the response sounded sheepish. “However, I assumed that wasn’t the point of the story.”

Virgil leaped up onto his desk and placed his notebook on his lap. “Don’t worry, nerd. We went over it far too many times in class. I have that sequence of pain down flat.”

“Well. Good, I think.” There was a pause. “You had art class today right? Is your painting going well?”

Virgil’s painting was of a dark faceless nobody staring up at the storming sky around him. His teacher told him it was some of the best work they had ever seen, and Virgil had to admit, he was very proud of the dark yet somehow calming aura the painting gave off.

“I’ve about finished it.” Virgil flipped from the desk and landed on the balls of his feet. “If there was a way to send it to you, I would but… you know. Phone numbers don’t work.”

Logic took a full six minutes to get back to him. Somebody must’ve come up to his register.

By the time Logic’s scrawl did appear, Virgil was back to pacing along the length of his carpet. He had done it enough recently that a path mirrored the bottoms of his feet and the muscles of his thighs ached ever so slightly.

“I’ll see it when I meet you.” Logic sounded far more sure in that fact that Virgil was even on a good day. There was a pause. “Did-” Another pause. “-you say you have something to tell me?”

Virgil swallowed.

“Yeah.”

He swallowed again.

Had he been in person, he would’ve started by reaching out and covered Logic’s hand with his own. That, or flowers. Something simple and blue.

But Virgil had none of these assets on his side, so he had to work through the dumb brain of his and figure out exactly how he was going to say “I’m in love with you.”

“We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

“Yes.”

Logic’s quick response normally made him feel better. Right now, he wanted his nerd to shove a sock in it.

“And you’re very important to me.”

This time, Logic didn’t respond and somehow that was worse than the “yes” from earlier.

“But I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

The moment he had written it, Virgil nearly stabbed himself with the pen. Why on earth had he phrased it like that?

And it certainly didn’t help that Logic was still. Fucking. Silent.

God, he really was going to throw up.

“I mean, I do want to be friends.” Virgil sat down on the floor right in the middle of pacing. “But I don’t want to be friends.”

He stood back up and paced in a different direction than the latest path he had created in his rug.

This wasn’t working. He just had to say it.

“I’m in love with you.”

Still no reply.

Virgil swallowed around the golf ball in his throat and stared down at the words he had written. Twice, he almost reached up to cross them off, and both times he just managed to put his pen down.

Why wasn’t he responding?

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Virgil muttered to himself. “I’m sure…”

He flung the stupid notebook across the room. It hit his bedroom wall with an echoing crinkle before thumping to the floor.

He took a breath.

Another one.

Then walked open and re-picked up the notebook.

Where a green response was filling the area underneath.

“I admit, I’ve been harboring romantic feelings for you myself.” Virgil stopped breathing. “I don’t know if I could have convinced myself to confess so, thank you for doing so.”

The world, which had seemed so dark and angry before, was suddenly so vibrant and so full of color that it was impossible not to smile in. That golf ball in his throat faded and replaced itself with a light that forced Virgil to spin in a circle, arms flapping excitedly by his sides.

He froze halfway through his dance.

He should probably give Logic an answer.

“Really?” The word came out hurried. Still neat compared to Logics but nothing when it came to his usual writing. For some reason though, the messiness of it just didn’t seem to bother him.

“I would never tell you a falsehood, Purple.”

Urgggg, he was so smooth. And charming. And smart. And just… He was just perfect.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Virgil smiled down at the paper.

“Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.”

__

Logan graduated on June 2nd. His parents had managed to get a black graduation gown and when he walked up onto the run-down stage to get his diploma, the only thing he could think about was how much he wished Purple was here to share this moment with him.

His father had cried, but his father had always been a crier. The surprise had been when his mother had started crying; Logan had always pictured her as more stoic and firm than emotional.

But perhaps that’s what change did. It made messes out of us all.

Logan had accepted whatever his parents wanted from him throughout the day without complaint and managed to get a couple of hours to himself while they thought he was off hanging with friends. Now, at 1:23 am, Logan stared blankly down at his notebook.

He was exhausted. Admittedly, he had woken up aware he would be ending this day at the end of his rope, but there was always such a difference between knowing and feeling.

Purple’s neat script appeared on a blank page of his notebook like a hand reaching out to lift him from his drowning state.

“I know you’re asleep, but I just wanted to congratulate you. Already out of school. I still have five more days in this hellhole.”

It was so Purple check-in, insult school, and give Logan an out with a casual joke that actual tears bit behind Logan’s eyes. He blinked rapidly before placing the end of his pencil to paper and writing:

“You’ll be free of High School soon. Then we’ll be off to college.”

“Don’t remind me.”

A laugh choked its way out of Logan. “Are you still nervous?”

“I can’t imagine being anywhere but here. And there are so many things that could go wrong. Fucking taxes.” The writing paused. “Still, at least I’ll have you, right?”

“Always.”

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s-” a second paused, probably as Purple calculated whatever time it was there. “1:31?! Dude, go to sleep! You must be exhausted!”

“I am.” Logan reached up to run his hands over the blue pen Purple’s appeared to be writing in. “Today was very taxing.”

“You knew it would be. I don’t envy all that social interaction.”

“You’ll have to experience it in 8 days.”

“Bitch.”

That brought a bit of sparkle back to Logan’s eyes, but he still wasn’t smiling.

“How’d it go?”

How’d it go?

Logan had managed to stay polite the whole time. The plastered content look on his face had only ever dropped to pull a smile when his parents hugged him or pictures were necessary. He had shaken every hand that came his way, accepted every “congratulations” and every “well done.” He’d even managed to keep from grimacing at words like “if that the genius?”

“Everyone couldn’t seem to resist the urge to compliment me on getting in ------ on a free ride.” Shit. He had forgotten the stupid thing wouldn’t let them name colleges. “The college I got into.”

“I figured.” Purple’s words came quickly after. “It is very impressive.”

Purple’s compliment did what no other compliment had done all day; it brought a true smile onto Logan’s face and even managed to pull a bit of a blush.

“It must’ve been exhausting,” Purple wrote. “I probably would’ve had a breakdown.”

Honestly, yeah. You probably would’ve.

“I got a few hours to myself but it wasn’t enough to properly-” he pursed his lips and tried to figure out how to phrase everything- “-recuperate.”

“Then you should be sleeping.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Logan could practically hear the humor dripping from each word Purple wrote. “Fucking sap.”

“Yeah,” he wrote tiredly. “I guess so.” He stared silently down at the notebook. “I wish you were here.”

Purple didn’t respond and Logan shoved the book away. He was just so… tired. Of only having these strings connecting him to someone he loved. To his best friend. To his boyfriend.

“I wish I was there too.” Purple words were smaller than normal, and slower written. “We’ll be moving for colleges. Me with my art school, you with your big brain scholarship.”

Logan cracked a smile.

“Maybe we’ll find each other then.”

His hand reached up to trace each letter, starting from then and working its way up to “we’ll.” It came to a stuttering stop before it could reach the word “Maybe.”

“I certainly hope so.”

__

Top Art Schools. In America. Logan’s mind whirled as he stared at the library computer screen and the stupid blinking line asking him what he wanted to write.

The time zones hadn’t changed. Logan had moved from Florida to M.I.T. in Massachusetts, so he hadn’t shifted over. And Purple had moved from… well, whatever state he lived in to… perhaps the same state, perhaps a different one. He had remained in Pacific Time either way.

Which meant his Art School had to be in California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, or the very tip of Idaho.

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

There were 454 art schools in California. Oregon didn’t give him a number for how many art schools, but there were over 100 colleges in all. 26 colleges in Nevada, 6 in Washington (although, more than 300 independent), and 15 in Idaho.

Which meant he had around 601 colleges to go through.

It was a lot. It was more than just a lot, but it gave him a place to start, it was doable, and Logan figured he could easily knock at least half of those out given Purple’s descriptions of them. Probably more, if things went well.

He scribbled all of this down in his notebook, along with his general plans on how to find him, before snapping it shut and making his way out of the library and towards his dorm room.

He checked his notebook on the way over.

“This seems like a lot of work,” Purple had written. “Do you really think we can do it?”

Logan paused in the middle of the walkway and pulled his pencil out from behind his ear.

“Yeah, we can do it,” he wrote firmly. “I’ve got resources and time. I’ll even build a program to sort through it all.”

“Lol. You fucking nerd.”

Logan smiled at the words.

“I’ll do it too. I won’t be as good as you because I’m not big brain-” Logan drew a large “X” over “I’m not big brain” while Purple wrote- “but I’ll be looking for you too.”

“That would be ideal.”

He left the notebook open, in case Purple decided to keep talking, but continued on his way up to his dorm room. Logan didn’t linger, though he did give his first in-person friend, Janus Drake, a wave before grabbing an energy drink and a bag of grapes and promptly turning right out the door.

Logan didn’t have enough money yet for a computer that would actually manage to support his work, though he was saving up for it. The library, however, was a familiar area and he was honestly much more comfortable there than he was in any of these ridiculously rich hangouts.

He situated himself at a very nice desk, opened his list of names, and looked through it. Everything had been organized by state and then by rank. Logan was planning on working through the top 10 of each state (or all six in Washington's case) and then continuing from there.

It couldn’t be that hard.

At 3 am, Logan got a text from Janus telling him that if he didn’t drag his ass back to the room and go to sleep, Janus would rip every single one of his books into pieces.

It was just as well. Logan had managed to search through the freshman class of all six Washington, ten Oregon, and had decided he might as well go through all of Idaho as well. He had been about to start Cali when the text had come through and frankly, Logan had done a lot for the day.

He scribbled all of his down in the notebook, told Janus he would be right up and shut down the computer.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would find Purple.

Soon turned out to be the very next day.

After his Genetics course, Logan made his way right back over to the library, sat back down on the computer, and opened the top art school in California: The University of California. Its Master of Fine Arts degree at UCLA was ranked No. 1 by U.S. News & World Report. Logan could easily see Purple making his way into that.

Slowly he flipped through the freshman class, looking for the symbol he and Purple promised they would always be wearing. The one still safety-pinned onto his chest and the one decorating practically all of the jewelry Logan knew Purple wore.

And…

There.

Logan’s heart leaped into his throat as he regarded the young man he saw on the computer screen.

He was easily the most beautiful person Logan had ever seen.

The man had black hair that ended in a tipped purple fringe. There was a single shaved line going through his right eyebrow that emphasized the glittering near-black eyes that gazed into the photograph. His skin was a warm dark brown. The man was not smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He wore a large black sweatshirt, covered in large purple patches. But what Logan’s eyes strayed to, and what had his eyes burning, was the patch sewn into the sweatshirt and the metal symbol hanging from around his neck.

Logan had every single line of that goddamn stormcloud memorized.

He looked down at the name and read it over several times, letting the words sound within his head and fully settle within him.

Virgil Casey.

“Vir-gil.” Logan sounded out. He ignored the glances from other students. “Virgil.”

He had a name. He had a location.

From that point on, it was ridiculously easy to find his phone number and the social media accounts Virgil had created. And see that every single one of them had a single picture on it.

The stormcloud.

An actual tear slid down Logan’s face. He wiped it away furiously and ripped open the notebook.

“You’re beautiful.” He wrote. Another stupid tear slid down his face, only to be sliced away by a quick hand. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Virgil got back to him faster than Logan expected. “You found me?”

He responded not on paper, but by a picture of the little brain with glasses Virgil had drawn for him years and years ago, sent over text.

__

The text noise startled Virgil, but he practically fell over himself in his desperation to reach it. He tried to open it, but the stupid face recognition wasn’t working and then he put in the wrong passcode three fucking times-

Please, please, please, please…

It was a picture of a piece of paper, cut into a neat circle and placed upon a light brown tabletop. A safety pin was open and still stuck through the top of it.

It was him.

It was Logic.

An actual sob ripped out of Virgil and his knees banged into the wooden floor of his dorm room. Roman, his roommate, glanced over at him in alarm but Virgil had eyes only for the screen, for his genius boyfriend who had somehow managed to find him through nothing but the words “Art School” and basic time zones in 2 days.

“Logic?” Virgil’s fingers could barely find the letters to type what he needed, barely even hold the phone up. Breath still in his lungs as those fucking dots appeared, letting him know Logic was typing, letting him know…

“My name is Logan Berry.”

Tears slid down Virgil’s face, ruining the makeup he had put on that day, but Virgil didn’t care, didn’t care about anything other than-

“Where are you?”

“MIT. I’m in MA.”

MIT.

Of course. Of course, his genius was able to get into a school like MIT. Virgil should’ve known to look at the school that had beaten fucking Harvard in the ranking, at least according to Newsweek.com.

“I can’t believe you found me.” Virgil swallowed noisily against the egg-sized ball in his throat. “I can’t believe I know your name. I didn’t think I would ever meet you.”

“I admit, I was beginning to lose hope as well.”

Another sob wrecked Virgil at the words. He wiped his eyes, ignoring the staring from Roman, and texted:

“Picture?”

“I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care.”

It took a second for the next image to download.

Logan was in a library because of course, he was. He appeared to have found a corner without many people, which Virgil was certain was a skill he had cultivated over the years.

Virgil couldn’t drink him in fast enough.

He was white, with ocean blue eyes that Virgil could’ve spent hours looking into, memorizing every single shine to it. They were red-rimmed at the moment, surrounded by glasses, and there were enough streaks down his pink face to let Virgil know that Logan was crying as well- though apparently not nearly as hard as Virgil.

That didn’t surprise him.

His hair was brown, short, and neat and fit the aesthetic of the blue tie he wore and black dress-shirt.

He was…

He was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Virgil pulled the phone to his chest and hugged the picture as if somehow that could transfer the warmth over and tell Logan, tell the boy he had been friends with since practically the moment he was born, that he was there. That he…

“I love you,” Virgil texted. “I love you so much.”

Logan’s response came immediately. “I love you too, Virgil.”

The mere thought of his name on Logan’s lips had Virgil crying all over again.

__

The airport was packed but Virgil did not mind shoving a few people out of his way as he headed towards the exit he and Logan had decided to meet at. One hand fell behind him, pulling the suitcase along as he headed over the other trembled at his side, mirroring the way he kept playing with his sweatshirt strings and pulling his hood up, only to shove it back down again.

The exit was in view. A few people stood around it: parents probably looking for their child to fly home, a random girl, and….

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.

He was shorter than Virgil had expected. For some reason, Virgil had always pictured Logan towering over him, but Logan looked to be only about an inch taller than Virgil. He shifted from foot to foot, and now and then a hand would come up to shove his black-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Logan?”

Logan turned to him. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. Virgil stepped forward unsure what to do with his body; arms hung like noodles at his sides and his legs remained stiff upon the floor.

“Virgil?”

Virgil swallowed. “Yeah.”

Logan took a step forward and suddenly, they were both moving. Virgil wasn’t quite sure exactly when he had dropped his suitcase, or how his body had known what he wanted but suddenly he was wrapping his arms around Logan’s back, and Logan’s arms were tight against his.

Virgil placed his head into the crick of Logan’s neck and let out a loud sob. He pulled Logan closer, trying to get every single part of them to touch, and knowing it would never be enough, never enough to satisfy those long long years of distance.

They swayed back and forth, neither one wanting to let go. When they did finally step back, Logan’s hand slid up to cup Virgil’s face- and Virgil’s own remained around Logan’s waist, holding him as close as he would without losing the ability to study him.

Virgil had thought he was hot from pictures.

It was absolutely nothing compared to the real thing.

Freckles patterned across his nose, light enough to not be noticeable through the lens. His eyes were even bluer than Virgil thought possible and there was a smile on his face that nearly brought Virgil to the floor.

Logan’s thumbs brushed away Virgil’s tears with one hand, but new ones simply surged to replace them. His own tears were sliding down his face, though much quieter and much less than Virgil’s.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.”

“That’s what I was going to say,” Virgil sobbed. “Asshole.” Logan’s smile was soft, delicate, and so utterly him that Virgil couldn’t help but reach up and trace over his lips with his right hand and enjoy the kiss Logan peppered to it.

“May I kiss you?” Logan asked.

Virgil answered by surging forward and pressing their lips together. Heat spread across his whole body, especially as Logan made a quiet noise and opened his mouth, arms settling into Virgil’s hair. His lips tingled and the feeling only spread as Virgil pressed as close as he could to his best friend, to his boyfriend, to his soulmate.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were smiling.